Reading Online Novel

The Laird's Captive Wife(37)



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It had been in Ashlynn’s mind to refuse when a manservant came to announce that the evening meal was served. However, a moment’s reflection was sufficient to let her see the lack of wisdom in this, for though she had only known him a short time it was long enough to be sure that Iain would fetch her himself if she denied him her presence. Accordingly she followed the servant obediently, expecting that he would lead her to the hall. Instead she found herself in the chamber next to her own. Her husband was waiting for her.

For the space of several heartbeats they faced each other. Ashlynn saw that he had changed his clothes and now wore dark hose and a tunic of crimson wool, belted at the waist and richly embroidered at neck and sleeves, the colour a perfect foil for his dark hair and eyes. Those eyes were now fixed on her, and she was forcibly reminded of the shortcomings of her current attire. However, he seemed to find nothing amiss for he smiled faintly and bowed low over her hand.

‘Come and sit down, Ashlynn.’

In fact, Iain had temporarily forgotten that his wife had no other garments besides the borrowed ones she had been wearing. He guessed that Morag had attempted to remedy the matter for the brown woollen gown was clearly a servant’s garb. It was also too big and tended to conceal her figure rather than emphasise it. He eyed it with quiet disfavour, realising it was a matter he was going to have to address in due course.

Unable to follow his thought, she felt herself redden, feeling unwontedly self-conscious. The recollection of her bruised cheek and cut lip only intensified the feeling. Rarely had she appeared to such disadvantage and certainly never before a man. Not just any man either. She was more than ever aware of that handsome charismatic presence and it made her feel awkward. He on the other hand seemed quite at ease and led her now to the table.

Although she still had little appetite she was glad of the business of dining for it kept him at a safe distance. She had no real idea of what she ate that evening but she took her time, dreading the moment when the meal would be over and the atmosphere of cosiness would become intimacy. Covertly she looked around at the appointments of the chamber. It was comfortable enough but practical too, a man’s room. She could see a doorway leading off it and guessed with a feeling of mounting dread that beyond it lay his bedchamber. It was then she realised where the locked door in her own room led to.

Iain settled himself back in his chair, his hand toying with his wine goblet. He had taken several of these with the meal but the wine appeared to have touched him not at all. He surveyed her keenly now, the dark eyes shrewd. Ashlynn bridled instantly.

‘Must you stare at me like that?’ she asked.

‘Does it displease you then that a man should look at you?’

To answer yes or no would have been equally ridiculous and she said nothing.

‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘I know it isn’t the first time. You told me yourself that you’d had admirers.’

Admirers yes, she thought, but none with the power to unsettle her so thoroughly. Besides, back then she had always been the one in control of the situation.

‘I would wager there were many. Yet you never met one who pleased you?’

‘No.’ She paused and threw him a speaking look. ‘I still haven’t.’

The dark eyes gleamed. ‘That’s better. I feared for a moment that you’d lost the fighting spirit.’

‘If you did you were much mistaken.’

The challenge was there and unequivocal too. In spite of himself his enjoyment grew. ‘I’m glad to hear it, truly. I once thought that a marriage of convenience was like to be dull. Now I am reassured that it will not be.’

Ashlynn listened in disbelief and then returned a faint ironic smile. ‘Dull? With you?’

‘You flatter me, lass.’

‘Not in the least.’

‘Of course not,’ he conceded. ‘I should have known better.’

‘Do you want flattery?’

‘No, but I doubt you’d deal in it anyway. Your tongue is too sharp for that, and backed up at need with tooth and claw.’

The allusion brought a deeper colour to her cheeks. ‘I regret that I can offer you no dowry in mitigation of these faults.’

‘I can live with that,’ he replied.

‘Perhaps you should have chosen a rich wife while you had the chance.’

‘I would not have married again, any more than you would have taken a husband.’

For a moment Ashlynn was very still, her eyes fixed on his face. ‘This marriage is not your first?’

Iain met and held her gaze. He didn’t know why he had said it. It had not been his intention but perhaps it was just as well. Better she should learn it from him than servants’ gossip.