Page 7 of Stolen by the Rival Scot (Tartan Trails of Love #2)

CHAPTER SEVEN

W hile Edward had rested, he hadn’t been able to sleep. There were far too many things on his mind. The councilmen, for one, for it was clear he was going to have to keep a close eye on those who were not overly enamored at his arrival.

His new position also, had him a little concerned. Not only had he never expected to be a laird, he was now taking leadership over a different clan entirely. Had it been his own, he could have least garnered guidance from his father.

And then, there was Evelyn. Determined to make his task ten times harder than it needed to be, it was evident she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. Which, with his great size, wouldn’t be very far. If she could lift him at all.

As she had left, two maids had arrived with pails of hot water. Without any warning, Edward had found himself conversing with them, telling them to fill the bath, and then dismissing them.

He had not planned to bathe, but he didn’t want to waste such an opportunity, and thus undressing, he had slipped into the steaming water, releasing a satisfied sigh as the water surrounded his body. There had been a chance that Evelyn might return, but Edward had laughed at the idea.

“Then she’ll certainly return tae a surprise. Besides, she’s the one who sent them in here.”

After the bath, he had dressed again and rested on the bed. His new wife finding him naked in the bath was one thing. He could cover his nakedness to an extent. But lying in a state of undress on the bed was perhaps a step too far. Besides, he had heard the fear in her voice earlier.

It was only at that moment that he had really considered her position. She was innocent, he knew that, but it had never occurred to him how being alone with a man might make her feel. That thought had roused shame within him, for he ought to have considered it far sooner. And yet, there was little he could do about it.

Ye could treat her a little more gently.

Perhaps. But he had been trying to already, and his tactic wasn’t exactly working.

With his mind still whirling, he had given up trying to sleep and instead, had left the bedchamber to wander around the castle. Craig had found him, and the young councilman had suggested that Edward might want to take a look at what was now, his study.

It was a decent sized room with a stone floor, a large fireplace on the right-hand wall and bookshelves that ran from floor to ceiling along the wall adjacent to it. The desk was solid oak, situated between two high windows that looked out across the glens at the front of the castle.

After the initial and superficial acknowledgement of his surroundings, Edward had turned to Craig. “I suppose now is as good a time as any tae review the accounts o’ the estate.”

Craig nodded. “O’ course.”

He had then turned to one of the bookshelves that lined the wall, and selecting one ledger after another, he had piled them onto the table.

Smirking, Craig said, “There’s some reading.”

Edward smiled a reply. “Aye. I dinnae think I’ll be getting through it all this night but show me the most recent one.”

Craig had taken a black covered ledger and placed it directly in front of Edward,. The young councilman had offered to stay, but Edward had dismissed him, telling him that there would be plenty of time for discussions over the coming weeks.

It had only been later, when Craig had long left the study, that Edward had discovered the calamitous situation the clan was actually in.

Now, Evelyn stood before him, trying to deny the very thing he knew to be true. He understood she wanted to cherish the memory of her uncle. But facts were facts, and it could not be clearer that the clan was in dire straits.

He wanted to make it as plain as he could, and thus, looking at her intently, he said, “It’s this simple, Evelyn. There’s nay dowry.”

Her hands flew to her hips and leaning forward, her face danced with frustration. “What dae ye mean, there is nay dowry? O’ course there is a dowry. Clearly, ye have misread the accounts. ‘Tis surely because this isnae something ye are used tae, is it?”

Her reaction angered him, but he swallowed it. Arguing was going to solve nothing. He knew what he had seen with his own eyes, even if she didn’t want to believe it.

“I may nae have been in line tae be a laird, but nor am I a fool. I dae ken how tae read.”

“Me uncle was a good man. He wouldnae have made promises he couldnae keep,” she countered.

Defending a dead man was not going to help her case, and besides, her memory seemed to be short, given what damage her uncle had caused only a few weeks prior.

“Ye dae recall that this good man that ye speak o’ tried tae kill Freya. He also caused the unnecessary deaths o’ many others, as well as wounding me own braither.”

“He felt forced tae tak’ such action,” she argued. “And maybe ye’re right. Maybe he did make a wrong choice. But he would never dae anything tae hurt me or this clan. He certainly wouldnae drive us tae ruin.”

“That is where ye are wrong,” Edward snarled. “Alistair has been actively hurting ye fer years.” He shook the ledger at her to make his point. “This ledger has all the accounts in detail. I assure ye, it will be a miracle if we manage tae scrape enough coin tae fund the food we need this year. I dinnae ken what the devil yer uncle was playing at, but these numbers dinnae add up at all.”

For a second, Evelyn looked a little rocked at his words. Doubt flashed across her face. But then she acted as though what he said was so impossible, it simply couldn’t be true.

“Ye have tae be wrong,” she gasped. “Ye have tae be. He wouldnae dae that tae us. Maybe ye are tired and ye’ve made a mistake. Maybe ye need tae come back again tomorrow when ye’re rested.”

“I dinnae need rest, Evelyn. I need answers,” he barked in reply.

“And I’m telling ye Alistair wouldnae dae this tae us.”

This argument was pointless. They were going round and round in circles with no solution. Feeling himself growing more and more frustrated, Edward stood from his chair and glared at her.

Flinging a hand toward the door, he barked, “Go tae yer room, Evelyn, ‘afore I lose me temper.”

Her mouth fell open in astonishment. For a second, his words seemed to render her speechless. A sound left her lips, a sound of utter disbelief, but not a legible word. It took another second for her to find her voice.

“I beg yer pardon? Who the hell dae ye think ye are?”

Edward bristled at her language, and with all the strength he could muster, he clenched his teeth to contain his frustration at her impertinence.

“I am yer husband. That’s who I am. And I refuse tae argue with someone who hasnae seen what I have, nor is willing tae listen tae reason.”

“Naeone tells me what tae dae,” she spat back.

“It is me right as yer husband. Ye will?—”

“Ye are me husband in name only,” she blurted, spinning on her heels and heading for the door. Upon reaching it, she opened it and turned back to him, her face twisted in disgust. “And dinnae ye forget it.”

A second later, Evelyn had disappeared, slamming the door behind her.

“Fer the love o’ all the god’s,” Edward sighed, dropping himself back into his chair. Raking his fingers through his hair, he shook his head, still reeling from the pointless argument.

For the longest time, he sat there, bewildered at her reaction. It was understandable that she would want to protect Alistair’s memory. But once he had laid out the situation as clearly as possible, the rational thing to do would have been to listen and accept what he was saying. Even if she did not want to take his word for it, he would have shown her the accounts, had she bothered to ask.

She’s still grieving.

Which was understandable. Did it explain her irrational argument though? Edward didn’t have an answer to that question. His knowledge of women was limited. Of course, he had spent time with them, for he was certainly not innocent, but he could not say he knew their minds.

A little later, he felt bad about losing his temper. It wasn’t his usual character, and under the circumstances, it had been a foolish thing to do. Perhaps even bringing up the issues with the accounts could have waited.

The day of their arrival back, the day of an unwanted marriage, the day Evelyn’s life would be changed forever, was probably not the day she needed to hear that her uncle had driven the clan into poverty. Which was another thing that now played on his mind, for he had no idea how he was going to pull them out of that mess.

Dinner was a cold and wordless affair.

If Edward had imagined his first encounter with the members of his new clan might provide him an opportunity to offer them support, and endear them to him, he was wrong. Those hopes were completely dashed within half an hour.

He only had himself to blame.

He should have kept what he knew about Alistair to himself. Better than that, he should have locked the study door so no one could enter. But he hadn’t, and thus, he had to endure Evelyn, sitting beside him, ignoring every question he put to her. Something that did not go unnoticed by those observing them as they sat at the high table at the front of the hall.

Michael had given him a rousing introduction earlier, but as energetic as he had been in his welcome, his words were met with a less than enthusiastic reception. Edward followed with his own speech, and was met with the same lackluster response. The clear disdain that literally emanated from Evelyn as brightly as the moon on a clear night, only fed the discontent that filled the occupants of the room.

Edward tolerated it for as long as he was able, until, after an hour, he abruptly excused himself and left the great hall alone, much to the hushed whispers of all those he passed. At first, he was unsure where he wanted to go. He certainly did not relish the idea of returning to the study. He had seen enough despair for one day. Nor did he want to go to Evelyn’s bedchamber.

Yer bedchamber.

Fine.

But the idea of her retiring to the room, finding him there, and them getting into yet another argument was about as appealing as a cold bath with his clothes on.

No. He needed somewhere he would find peace. Solace. Solitude. He was striding down the corridor, wondering where that place might be, when it suddenly hit him. Turning on his heels, he headed in the direction of the stables, already feeling a little better that he had made the decision.

When he reached them, the young stable hand jumped up from his stool. The boy had been tending to a mare. By the size of her, she looked close to giving birth.

“Me laird,” the boy gasped, looking both surprised and wary at the same time.

“Relax, lad. I’m only here tae see me horse. It looks like ye have yer hands full, at any rate. When’s she due?”

The lad looked back at the mare. “Any day now, me laird. ‘Tis only a waiting game.”

Edward smiled down at him and ruffled his blond hair. “Ye’ve just described life in general, lad. Something ye’ve a few years yet tae discover. Well, I’ll leave ye be.”

He then continued down the stalls until he found his stallion. Even just seeing his huge beast brought relief and joy to his heart.

“Hello, Archer,” he murmured, pressing a hand to the horse’s strong neck. “Have ye rested well today? Ye deserved it after all that travelling.”

Edward stepped into the stall, and, taking a brush from a sackcloth bag hanging on the stall wall, he began long, gentle strokes against the horse’s body. Even the movement was soothing, something Edward enjoyed as much as Archer in that moment. This is what brought him peace and relaxation. It always had.

He had been there less than half an hour, when he heard his name being called.

“Edward?”

Edward turned toward the voice, and was about to step out of the stall, when Craig showed up.

“There ye are,” Craig smiled. “I was beginning tae worry.”

Edward smirked. “Did ye think I might have run away after that disaster in the great hall this evening?”

Craig shrugged, neither acknowledging nor denying Edward’s suggestion.

“Things will get better. Ye just have tae give them time.”

“Aye. I dinnae ken that we have that.”

Craig frowned then. “What dae ye mean by that? Something has ye worried.”

While he was tempted to tell the young councilman about his discovery in the ledgers, he decided to leave it until tomorrow. It was late, and everyone was tired. Himself included.

“It is just difficult tae be working against everyone in the castle. Including me new wife, who is proving tae be me number one enemy at the moment.”

Craig had now entered the stall, and as Edward resumed brushing Archer’s gleaming coat, he pressed his hand against the horse’s neck.

“Evelyn hasnae had the easiest life, ye ken,” Craig offered. “She’s always been alone. When her parents died, she was a young lass. She hardly remembers them. If it hadnae have been for Alistair, who took her in and raised her like she was his own daughter, she would have been destitute.”

At hearing that, Edward stopped brushing Archer’s coat, and gave Craig his full attention.

“She’s had a lot o’ loss in her life. Now, she’s lost her uncle. Her only remaining relative. She’s nae used tae having people close tae her. In fact, I think she’s been scared o’ getting close tae anyone since her parents died. Maybe she doesnae want tae feel that depth o’ pain again.”

“I see,” Edward replied.

He knew so little about her. He had tried, over the last few days, to get to know her, but she had shut him down at every opportunity. Perhaps this was the reason why. Maybe all his efforts had been futile from the very start.

“It’ll tak’ her some time,” Craig continued, “but I dae believe that she will find gratitude in having a husband and a new family.”

Edward nodded. “Let’s hope so. And thank ye for telling me about her past. It will help me deal with our newfound marriage a little better.”

“Ye’re welcome.”

A yawn suddenly took Edward unawares, and Craig smiled as he looked apologetic.

“Ye’ve had a hell o’ a day. Perhaps it’s time both ye and yer horse got some sleep.”

“Perhaps ye’re right.”

The men walked back into the castle together, and, at the wide staircase, they bid each other good night and parted ways. Wearily, he climbed the stairs and made his way to the bedchamber he would eventually find himself calling theirs. As quietly as he could, Edward opened the door.

Evelyn’s breathing was light and even as she slept peacefully in the bed. Taking steady steps, he rounded the bed and gazed down at her. She certainly hadn’t had the best start in life, and even now, her life and the choices she had been forced into were not of her own making.

Kneeling on the bed, he scooped several strands of hair that had fallen over her face, moving it onto the pillow.

“I’m sorry, Evelyn,” he whispered. “I’m sorry that I lost me temper with ye earlier, too. Dinnae worry. I’ll find a way tae fix everything.”

Climbing onto the bed, he then lay down beside her, remaining on top of the covers while still fully dressed. As gentle as he tried to be, however, his large muscular frame made the mattress lurch, and a small moan escaped from Evelyn’s lips.

Several seconds later, her eyes flickered open.