Page 40 of Bride takes a Scot

Anse scoffed. “Even if ye put your life in danger by doing so? I say ye wait him out. Eventually, Robbie will come seeking answers.”

“He might be willing to wait, but I am not. I want vengeance now. Ye do not know what it was like being in the king’s dungeon, Anse. It was a living hell. A recompense needs to be made. Whoever sent me there will pay the price. I will not be appeased until I see it through.”

“I have never seen ye so blood-thirsty or ruthless. Being in that dungeon changed ye. Of course, I understand and will lend my sword to help ye achieve it. We will find the miscreant.”

“Aye, we will ferret him out and when we do, I vow my sword will meet with his heart.”

Anse grunted. “A polecat always leaves his hole and when he does, we will be waiting.”

Declan gave a firm nod and walked off toward the cottage. He was intent to see Isabella and find out exactly what happened that morning. Two of his soldiers tried to stop him, but he shook his head and kept walking. Though his leg pained him a little, he ignored it.

The sooner he spoke to Isabella, the better. As he entered his family’s cottage, he found Isabella washing utensils at the supper table. Her arms were elbow-deep in the water, and she didn’t look up when he cleared his throat to gain her attention.

“Isabella, I need to speak to ye.”

“Not now, Declan. Your stepmother wants me to wash these before supper is served.” She continued to ignore him.

“Now, Wife,” he demanded in a tone that meant she was not to question him, one he used with his men.

His stepmother entered the living area then and he motioned to her. “Ye will wash those, Helena. Isabella and I need to talk.” He paid no heed to the glare his stepmother gave him, grabbed Isabella’s arm, and forced her to go with him. They reached their bedchamber, and he opened the door, and gestured for her to enter. He followed, then closed the door with a bang.

“Whatever is wrong with you?” she asked, averting him again and dried her hands on the overdress fabric of her gown.

He gestured to the bed and though it appeared she was going to ignore him, after a moment she sat on the edge of the mattress. He sat next to her. Declan took her hand in his and waited for a moment, hoping she would broach the subject of the dead rat, but she remained silent. Finally, he prompted, “Have ye something to tell me?”

She pulled her hand from his and stood. “Haveyousomething to tellme?” Isabella approached the window and stood gazing through it with her back to him.

Declan sighed. Women were difficult to get through to when they had ire in their hearts. He stood and moved to wrap his arms around her body and pulled her against his chest. She stiffened but didn’t pull away. “Anse said something happened this morn… Will ye not tell me what happened?”

He felt her sigh. She kept her gaze at the window. “It was nothing.”

“It was more than nothing, wife.” Declan took hold of her face and turned it. As soon as her sweet lips came close to his, desire overtook him. He moved to stand in front of her, kissing her, fueled by the passion that sent fervor to his loins. His mouth turned over hers, thoroughly capturing hers with his kiss. Declan moaned when she tensed. He wasn’t sure but thought perhaps she wasn’t enjoying his affection.

His suspicions proved correct when Isabella pulled away. “Nay.” She shoved at his chest and forced him to step back from her.

“Nay?” He was confused by her rejection because her body told him how much she wanted him and yet her words refuted her desire.

“I cannot think when you kiss me so nay, do not. I am ireful with you, Declan, because I’m your wife and yet you keep your secrets close to you. Until you trust me, there will be no more kisses, or anything else for that matter.”

He wondered what secrets she thought he held from her. “I only want to protect ye. Ye should tell me—”

She grimaced. “I do not need your protection. What I need is for you to start acting like a husband and be honest with me.”

“Ye do need protection, and ye will explain yourself.” He glared at her, but she wasn’t forthcoming. Angst filled him especially when her beautiful eyes filled with tears.

“You misled me,” she whispered.

“About what?” Declan frowned and ran his fingers through his hair as agitation overtook him. He couldn’t fathom what she was talking about. His wife was one confusing woman.

“Think about it and it shall come to you.”

She was unwilling to tell him what troubled her beyond letting him know she knew he had a secret she’d wanted him to share with her.

There were few people Declan trusted. There was only one thing he hadn’t shared with her, and to be honest, he was unsure if he could put his trust in her, yet. His secrets were his to keep; he wondered who among his trusted few had let her know there was something he hadn’t shared. It was best that she didn’t know what was in his heart—vengeance, mourning, deep sorrow, anger, and the list went on. He wouldn’t own to his sentimentality, not now or ever. But now, with her rejection,there was nothing more to say. Declan turned and left the bedchamber.

Outside, Lorcan stood guard with his sword in his hand.

Declan nodded to him. “See that my wife does not leave the cottage without you. Where she goes, ye go. I want her protected.”