Page 27 of The Laird’s Unwanted Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #5)

N ight had fallen upon MacLiddel’s keep as folks settled in for sleep.

Another layer of snow had begun to fall just after dinner, offering another ounce of reassurance for Aileen.

Perhaps the weather would scare Carswell away, and the clash between him and her husband’s men would never come to pass.

Though ambitious, it could still happen.

Perhaps if she hoped hard enough for it.

Regardless of what was to come, Aileen found herself focused on another goal: tracking down Gerald to tend to whatever superficial wounds he’d taken that day. His impromptu duel with Laird MacDonnell had resulted in a tie, though neither laird seemed intent on having it end as such.

Their skirmish had easily caught the attention of little Mollie, and it wasn’t long before a small crowd had gathered to watch two powerful lairds fight it out.

Lady MacDonnell looked thrilled to be watching her husband perform; Aileen couldn’t rightly say the same for herself, wondering if, perhaps, their energy shouldn’t be wasted on each other.

Not that the fight wasn’t a sight to behold, of course. While Arthur took his time and tried to map out Gerald’s attack patterns, the Laird of MacLiddel was determined to keep his opponent on the back heel, changing his stance and swing pattern every few strikes.

Aileen certainly wasn’t an expert when it came to swordplay, but even she could tell that Gerald had shifted between numerous styles of combat during their fight.

It was part of the reason she wanted to find him; Mollie had been terribly curious, though her bedtime prevented her from asking Gerald herself.

The other part, of course, was to see if she could aid in his recovery process.

Holding a bucket in one hand and a basket of medical supplies in the other, Aileen navigated the halls with ease, proud of how quickly she’d mapped the castle’s interior in such a short time.

Eventually, she found herself in front of Gerald’s study, reminding herself to knock before simply barreling inside.

Even then, the door still managed to creak slightly open.

“Oh, gracious.” Aileen turned to leave, only to freeze in place as footsteps sounded behind the door. It swung inward gently, Gerald standing beneath the archway with what began as a somewhat perturbed frown, only to lift into a bemused grin at the sight of his wife.

Aileen, meanwhile, was quite surprised to find him entirely shirtless, a few bandages already wrapped around his hands and forearm, and a bruise beginning to form along the underside of his ribcage.

She’d seen his bare arms, of course, but it was an entirely different matter to bear witness to his chest. The tightness of his abs, the sculpted definition of his pectorals—it was as if the Gods had carved him themselves.

“Evening,” Gerald said, his carving knife in hand.

“E … Evening, Gerald.” Both parties stared quietly at each other for a beat, and Aileen suddenly forgot why she sought him out in the first place. She shifted her arms awkwardly, the weight of her water bucket quickly reminding her of her purpose. “Did ye … I mean … how are ye feeling?”

A slight brow rose from Gerald, his bemused expression remaining. “In general, or …?”

Aileen shook her head, exhaling sharply as she tried to gather herself. She found herself staring at the door’s knob, suddenly sputtering out, “Ye still havenae fixed yer latch, then?”

Gerald shrugged lightly. “Suppose I’m inviting further mishaps between us.”

Her face flushed profusely, and she turned to leave, only for him to gently grab her wrist. She looked over her shoulder, surprised to see such a sincere look from her husband. Gerald urged her back to him, and Aileen complied, still blushing intensely.

“Were ye worried about the damage I took after the skirmish?” he asked.

Aileen nodded. “I didnae think ye were too terribly hurt. Ye’re ye , after all, but I …

” she shifted the bucket once more, unable to find the words.

And she had such eloquent reasoning before arriving; something about her husband just made her into a complete and utter fool.

Even so, Gerald found a chair to sit on, offering his body fully toward his wife.

The thought sent a tremor through her legs, and it took everything Aileen had not to throw herself into a kiss.

As far as she knew, their previous meeting in the study had been a solitary moment.

She set her materials down and began to clean what she could find, though whoever had dressed Gerald previously had done quite the thorough job. Aileen found herself pursing her lips, her brow furrowing as she simply checked his dressings and offered a poultice for his bruised ribs.

“Ye seem disappointed, sweet wife.”

Gods, her face was so hot. “Nay! I … why would I be disappointed that me husband is well taken care of?”

Gerald offered a chuckle in reply, his knowing smile causing a rise of irritation in Aileen’s chest. She did her best to ignore it as she finished her work, disposing of the extra bits into her basket before going to grasp her water bucket.

“Was this really yer only reason for visiting me?” Gerald asked.

Aileen glanced his way, somewhat gritting her teeth. “And if it were?”

Gerald took a moment to take in her words. He almost looked disappointed, Aileen swore. But he’d been the one to first put such a distance between them, and after their moment in the study …

“It’s hard to have other motives,” Aileen admitted.

“When ye havenae offered any further clarification of our relationship.” There.

She had finally struck, and though she wasn’t certain if it was quite the right opportunity, she had inadvertently made it to be so.

There was no going back now. Aileen could only offer her proposal and hope her husband would agree.

And—though she could have been imagining it—Gerald seemed to recognize that as well. “The last time we spoke?—”

“Aye, and that level of intimacy was unexpectedly …” Aileen patted her face, flushed and feeling suddenly quite dizzy.

Gerald moved to offer his chair, but she shook her head, doing all she could to keep her eyes on his face instead of his chest. “But, it wasnae an answer. I still feel conflicted. Nae about being sent away,” she clarified.

“But if I truly am to stay here … what am I meant to be? To the kin of MacLiddel, to ye?”

Gerald remained silent, allowing her to continue.

Now, Aileen was certain; he must have wanted to have a similar conversation with her.

She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she wouldn’t question such a blessing.

For once, it felt as if she were on equal footing with him.

That their thoughts were one and the same.

“I would ask that, perhaps,” Aileen hesitated, suddenly feeling too anxious to continue. “I mean, we daenae have to do it this moment, what with Carswell coming in mere days?—”

“Carswell doesnae concern me,” Gerald reminded her.

“And even with the Highlands working toward peace, there willnae be a time where I daenae need to prepare for a fight, or fortify me keep for the safety of me clan.” He stood, Aileen’s eyes darting away as he leaned over her, his chest so much closer than before.

She could smell the wood shavings intermingled with his sweat—he must have been deep in his work before she came in to interrupt it.

“There will never be a proper time to discuss this, Aileen. I will never stop being the Laird of MacLiddel.”

“And unless ye say otherwise, I willane stop being its lady.” Aileen sighed, turning away from Gerald as her face boiled over.

Hot, it was so very, very hot. “But, unlike ye, I daenae ken what that means. If I am to be yer lovin’ spouse, yer partner in politics, or simply a doll ye store away until I am needed back on display? ”

He grasped her arm so suddenly that she lost hold of her water bucket.

It crashed to the floor and splashed water across its stonework foundation, and Aileen found herself practically touching noses with her husband.

Gerald looked … angry wasn’t quite the right word.

Frustrated, perhaps? Irritated, but not with her specifically.

“Ye are nae a doll, Aileen,” Gerald stated plainly. “And I willnae have ye think otherwise. Ye are the lady of this clan, and I …” His tone softened, his grip loosening against her arm. “I admit to confusing ye on what exactly that means.”

His eyes looked so soft. Nothing at all like his beastly moniker.

“This isnae me area of expertise,” he chuckled humorously. “So, I suppose we must decide ourselves what yer title means. What tasks I should entrust to ye, what boundaries we shouldnae cross. To avoid any …”

“To avoid any mishaps?” Aileen offered.

Gerald’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Took the words right out of me mouth.” He released his hold completely, allowing Aileen the choice to leave or remain at such an intimate proximity.

While she did take a step away, she didn’t move to leave the study altogether.

This wasn’t exactly the full answer she wanted—maybe there was a different answer she wanted to hear, deep down inside.

But, at the very least, she would no longer wander the castle halls without purpose.

“I think we can both agree that Mollie’s care is yer priority,” Gerald began. “And, if ye’re nae against me influence?—”

“Nay, of course nae,” Aileen insisted. “Ye’ve been such a help with her. And the military side of things—I have nay experience in any of that, so I will stay out of yer way involving the keep’s defense.”

Gerald nodded in agreement. “But when it comes to daily maintenance—handling the servants’ tasks, keeping in communication with Ms. Blair, sending and receiving missives from the other lairds and scheduling meetings and events—especially now, with me so focused on the keep’s defense, I havenae had the chance to pay attention to the little details of management. ”

A burning excitement lit in Aileen’s chest. “I would gladly oversee the keep’s day-to-day! If ye trust me to run it as ye like?—”

“I trust ye to run it properly. And if it isnae to me standards, well,” a small smirk crossed his face, and Aileen felt her heart skip a beat. “I have nay place to complain, given I didnae take the time to teach ye meself.”

It wasn’t quite what she wanted, Aileen realized. Part of her hoped that Gerald would profess her love to her, admit that he had similarly growing feelings for her, and that their previous intimacy within the study hadn’t been simply a product of high emotion.

But this was certainly better than walking on eggshells around him. She had a goal, a focus outside of simply caring for Mollie, and she was willing to put her whole heart into it. “Then, we have a deal, dear husband?” Aileen held out her hand, though Gerald only looked at it curiously.

“Last I was told,” he began with a slightly teasing tone to his voice. “I wasnae permitted to touch ye anymore.”

Aileen let out an irritated scoff. “If ye’re nae going to take this seriously, I’ll just assume this conversation was another attempt to make fun of—” A startled squeal escaped her throat as Gerald reached out to grasp her hand back.

Not to shake it, but to place a delicate kiss between her knuckles.

“We have an understanding, sweet wife,” he replied coolly. Even so, Aileen’s face continued to burn well after she excused herself from his study, still feeling faint as she carried her supplies back to the kitchen.