Page 22 of The Laird’s Unwanted Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #5)

G erald knew he should have fixed that latch sooner rather than later. Once more, strangers had barged their way into his study. And once more, he found himself face-to-face with Aileen, her expression akin to a child whose hand was caught in the sweets drawer.

She opened her mouth to speak, to try to weave a plausible explanation as to why she inserted herself into his inner sanctum, only for little Mollie to completely take control of the conversation.

“Gerald, look!” She immediately approached, holding up an armful of what looked to be wildflowers and weeds from outside. “We got ye flowers for yer study!”

Any attempt at remaining stoic faded from Gerald’s mind. He knelt to Mollie’s level, accepting the fistful of flowers with a gracious nod. “Aye…thank ye for the thought, lamb. But, ye shouldnae have entered me study without permission.”

Mollie’s expression faltered slightly. “But, yer door was wide open. And …” She glanced around, suddenly noticing the mess with a gasp. “Oh! This wasnae Bannock’s doing this time! Promise!”

“I ken, love,” Gerald assured. “It’s me own doing.” He stood, finding a nearby empty whisky bottle before slipping the flowers in. “But did ye hear what I said earlier? It’s important to me that ye respect me privacy.”

Mollie’s shoe scuffed against the floor, her arms folding behind her back as she sheepishly replied, “Aye, Gerald. I’m sorry.”

“Good. Now, make sure ye show me yer sorry by nae doing it again.” His eyes found Aileen’s, who looked as equally bashful as her little sister did. “Do I make meself clear?”

He barely perceived a nod from Aileen, though Mollie was furious and frantic.

“I do appreciate the flowers, though,” Gerald added. “Thank ye for them, Mollie, dear.”

“Ye’re welcome!” Mollie said, immediately back to her bright, chipper attitude. “I ken ye have to fight mean old Carswell soon, so Aileen thought flowers would help keep, uh …” She turned to her sister, struggling to find the right word.

“Morale, love.” Aileen’s face paled, avoiding Gerald’s look completely. And rightly so. Irritation was quickly working its way throughout the Laird’s body, and it took everything he had not to blow up there and then. After all, it wasn’t Mollie he was angry at.

“Mollie, could ye take yer sister’s flowers and go find Ms. Blair?” Gerald fought to keep his tone even, giving Mollie a reassuring pat on the back and a somewhat forceful push toward her sister. “I … need to speak to Leelee about somethin’ a bit boring.”

“Oh. All right!” Mollie quickly skipped to Aileen’s side, accepting her flowers and immediately scurrying out the door. Bannock followed after, though she lingered around the door with a nervous look in her eyes. It was the first time Gerald saw the dog concerned for anyone other than Mollie.

“Go, Bannock,” Gerald commanded.

With a whine, Bannock obeyed, vanishing behind the door’s archway as she followed after her mistress. Gerald waited a beat or two before closing the door after, shifting a chair across to prop before the knob to ensure no one interrupted them.

He was clearly upset. Aileen certainly didn’t need that explained to her, and as Mollie and Bannock cleared the room—as her husband beckoned her toward him—Aileen found herself alone with the beast once more. “Ye’re cross with me.”

Gerald scoffed loudly, throwing his hands into the air. “Aye? What gave ye that idea, lass? Was it the clear anger written across me face, or how it’s taking near all I have nae to raise me voice any further?”

A rather ridiculous statement on her part. Aileen was quickly regretting her words.

“Ye told Mollie about Carswell,” Gerald snarled. “Ye told her what danger was to come, after I explicitly told ye to nae breathe a word about it!”

As anxious as she was, Aileen could feel a flash of her own red-hot irritation slip across her.

“I willnae lie to her, Gerald. I have never done so all her life, and she has managed. And as far as I’m concerned,” she added with a bite to her tone, “Ye have very little say in how she’s raised.

Perhaps me husband would have more influence, but if I recall, ye didnae want anything to do with that business. ”

She wasn’t certain why she kept provoking Gerald like this.

On the one hand, Aileen was very aware of the thin line she walked between shelter and homelessness.

A line controlled by the very man she was currently aggravating.

On the other hand, the last few days had been maddening, and his constant emotional ups and downs had, perhaps, finally slashed through her own, personal line in the sand.

Aileen watched as Gerald exhaled loudly through his nose, pinching his bridge while visibly wrestling with his anger. “I ken what ye’re tryin’ to do, lass, and it’s childishly beneath ye.”

“Childishly?” Aileen was surprised to hear her own voice jump an octave. “Says the one who has treated this whole affair like … like it were a mere nuisance!”

“Ye’re actin’ like a nuisance!” Gerald snapped. “That fit ye threw in the cellar, those petty attempts to get a rise out of me durin’ breakfast this mornin’ … I was willin’ to give ye the benefit of the doubt?—”

“What benefit of the doubt could ye give a woman who hadnae other choice in life but to do as she was told?” Aileen blinked, suddenly aware of how close her husband had suddenly come.

She tried to take a step back, but she bumped into his desk as his hands slammed on top of it, trapping her between his arms.

She tried to find her words, tried to remember where exactly she was taking their argument. Her mind had emptied completely, a blank landscape lost amidst the forest fire blazing behind Gerald’s eyes.

“Ye’re nae but a bairn lookin’ for attention.”

Aileen swallowed loudly, forced to arch her back as her husband leered toward her.

“Well …” Gerald’s gaze narrowed, sending a shiver up Aileen’s spine. “Now ye have it. Undivided. Exactly what ye’ve been askin’ for.”

Even now, with a mix of anxious terror churning in her stomach, Aileen’s own anger fought through and into her voice.

“I … ye ken, for someone who wants to keep people away, ye spend very little effort on fixin’ the latch on one of the most private rooms within this blasted castle!

Ye talk about me being childish, but ye’re just as bad, what with yer …

” She inhaled sharply, quickly shaking her head as she exhaled loudly.

“Nay, nay, this isnae why I came in here! I didnae seek ye out so we could fight, Gerald.”

“Are ye sure of that, lass?”

It was the first time Aileen felt confident while nodding. She even went as far as to press her hand against Gerald’s chest, attempting weakly to put space back between them.

To ease the aggression she helped to build—and, gracious, was there ever tension. His chest visibly tensed at her touch, so Aileen simply held it there, doing her best to ignore how firm it felt beneath the flimsy layer of linen.

“Me whole life’s been surrounded by fights.

I’m tired of fighting, of running and hiding me face so it daenae betray me thoughts and get me in trouble.

” Aileen looked up at her husband, forcing herself to maintain eye contact while she plucked away at her own anger to the exhaustion that lay beneath.

“I want a conversation. A real one, about our marriage, or arrangement, or contract, whatever ye wish to call it. I want to ken where we stand, what I am to ye. More than anything …”

More than anything, she wanted to bring Mollie into a world where honesty was rewarded. And to do that, Aileen had to take the first step. She had to make herself vulnerable.

Gerald had been disarmed in a fight before, but never quite like this. It didn’t present as a tangible pain he could explain—a sore wrist from having a sword twisted out of his grasp, a throbbing arm after a warrior nearly broke it wrenching his axe free—but it hurt all the same.

Slowly, he pushed himself away from Aileen, allowing her hand to gently create a comfortable distance between them.

There was no trace of her previously prickly disposition.

She was softer, her tone gentle but firm.

She would be heard, and she was ready to take whatever his words inflicted back upon her.

“Ye …” Gerald paused, finding it suddenly difficult to maintain eye contact with his wife. “Ye ken where I stand in this arrangement, lass.”

Aileen shook her head, stray curls of hair bouncing against her shoulders. “I … I really daenae, Gerald.” She opened her mouth to continue, but visibly hesitated, her fingers picking at a loose thread amidst her gown.

“Fine.” Gerald took another step back, his hands crossing against his chest as he gave her room to breathe. “Ye wish to discuss our arrangement? Gain clarity?” he paused, clearing his throat in an attempt to regain a gruffness to his tone. A note of finality.

“This is yer only chance, then. After ye leave this room, I willane allow this level of disrespect from ye again. Ye will treat me as the laird I am, both in private and public. Ye willane let loose yer anger or venomous ire upon me after this. There willnae be a reason to do so.”

Aileen visibly grimaced.

“Action shows resolve for ye,” Gerald added.

“But words hold weight to me. Speak, and make sure yer words mean somethin’ to ye.

” He watched her breathe in once more, pull the loose string entirely free from her gown, then straighten it out with a long, careful exhale.

Her posture straightened, hands folding against her lap as Aileen faced him with the sort of confidence he expected from the Lady of MacLiddel.

“I …” She cleared her throat, her brow furrowing as she spoke the clearest that Gerald had heard to date.

“When ye first offered this proposal, I daenae mind keeping an arm’s length from ye.

It was enough for Mollie to have a safe place to live.

I had spent me life settling for the best I could get, and yer offer was just that. ”

She shifted her posture, still clearly—visibly—nervous, but pressing on.

“But, the longer I’ve spent behind MacLiddel’s walls, the more little things I notice from ye that draw me in.

The way ye treat Mollie nae as simply a child, but an intelligent individual who will, some day, see the world for entirely what it is.

Ye hold her to yer standards, but they arenae cruel or impossible. She is as much yers as she is mine.”

Gerald held his tongue as his heart skipped a beat. She was right, of course. A man who wanted distance certainly wouldn’t invest as much as he had in Mollie, nor would he hold her to the same standards as those under his banner.

“And when we speak, there are times I see ye let yer guard down, Gerald. Where ye’re nae just Laird MacLiddel, but a man I could see meself happy to call a husband.” A small smile crossed Aileen’s lips, her attention drifting toward the carved face of the bookshelf.

Her expression flickered with knowing, and Gerald suddenly found himself drawn to her entirely. That smile seemed to light up the room, spreading a warmth that the castle hearths could never seem to produce.

“But then ye step away.” Aileen’s smile wobbled, and a chill ran down Gerald’s spine.

Such a simple act, yet it had such a dramatic effect on him.

“And ye take of a piece of me with ye.” She shook her head, her hands now gripping the edge of the desk for support.

“I daenae ken how to go back to how things were, when that happens.”

She was trembling.

“But I want to respect ye and yer boundaries—I’m nae the only one with a troubling past, and it’s nay right to force ye to destroy a boundary for me own sake.”

Her fingers gripped the desk so tightly—Gerald wanted his hands to be squeezed instead.

“But even as I say that, I want to be with ye, in a way we agree on. And it tears more pieces from me, and it’s hard to stitch it all back up with holes and jagged edges, and …”

Aileen’s voice broke down completely, her bravado nearing its end. And yet, her reason for interruption wasn’t due to her own internal fear, her anxious stammering. It was because in that moment, Gerald closed the distance between them and caught her in a kiss.