Page 36 of The Laird’s Unwanted Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #5)

D inner was quiet that evening, just like it had been every evening before within MacGunn’s keep. Aileen managed somewhat of an appetite each night, having done a great deal of work the two weeks she’d been helping rebuild the territory.

Mollie, meanwhile, continued to barely eat what she was served, not even attempting to hide the fact that she often removed her plate and set it on the floor for Bannock. The deerhound seemed equally unenthused, lifelessly lapping up the food before curling back underneath her mistress’ chair.

Aileen hadn’t said anything against it the first few times.

She was certain the sudden change in scenery was difficult for her poor sister, so whatever made Mollie feel better was fine by her.

But at this point, it had become almost habitual; a meal would be served, Mollie would take a few bites, then set the plate on the ground. “Ye ken Bannock is fed, aye?”

Mollie shrugged, her elbows propped against the table as her hair hung like a partially drawn curtain over her face.

Aileen frowned, setting her silverware aside as she cleared her throat. “If ye daenae like what the kitchen serves, ye can tell Sarah. She would rather ye eat than starve yerself.”

“I’m nae starvin’ meself,” Mollie mumbled weakly.

A somewhat irritated sigh slipped out from Aileen, and she finally decided enough was enough. “Mollie, what is wrong? Ye havenae been yerself since our arrival.”

“Nor have ye,” Mollie grumbled louder. “But nay one seems to notice.”

“Mollie,” Aileen said sternly. “I daenae appreciate yer tone right now.”

Mollie sat up suddenly, her hands spread across the table as she balled them into fists. “I daenae appreciate being forced out of me home, either! But I didnae get a say, so ye daenae get a say in how I feel!”

“Mollie!” Aileen barely managed to stand as her sister suddenly darted out of the dining hall, Bannock in hot pursuit behind her.

She followed after, excusing herself to passing servants and kinsfolk, before a loud slamming of a door caught her attention.

“Mollie Anne Hughes, ye willnae slam doors like that!” Aileen quickened her pace, finally arriving in the hall where her sister’s room lay.

She approached her door, not surprised at all to find it locked.

“The one time I daenae need a latch to be working! Mollie! Open this door!”

A furious barking came as a response, followed by a threatening snarl from Bannock. Aileen’s blood turned cold at the sound; she’d never heard the deerhound make such a terrible noise before. At least, not one directed so obviously at her.

“Go away!” Mollie yelled. “I daenae want to talk!”

Fury quickly faded into panicked worry as Aileen pressed herself against the door. “Mollie, please. I daenae mean to be snappish with ye.”

More angry barking filled the space between them.

“I just … there’s been so much to do here at the keep, and …

” Aileen forced herself to stop, to breathe.

Her mind was racing too fast, her emotions becoming far too unraveled.

She took a step away from the door, exhaling slowly as the foul mood left her body.

“I’m sorry. There isnae any excuse for being cross with ye.

It doesnae matter what’s going on with me, Mollie. I just want to help ye feel better.”

Bannock’s barking settled, replaced with a concerned whining. That, too, eventually fell to an uneasy silence, and Aileen wondered if she had truly overstepped. She moved to leave, to give her sister the space she deserved, when Mollie’s quiet voice flittered through the door.

“Ye broke yer promise, Leelee.”

Aileen paused, mind racing to try to figure out what exactly Mollie meant. “I’m … I daenae understand. Explain it to me, love. I promise I’m listening, now.”

Another beat passed between them. Then, the door gently clicked, swinging open just enough for Mollie’s tear-stained face to poke through the cracks.

“Oh, Mollie,” Aileen immediately fell to her knees, gathering her sister into her arms as she came scrambling forward. She gave her sister a moment to cry, gently stroking her hair and holding her tightly. Bannock came slinking out next, gently licking Mollie’s arm before curling up behind Aileen.

Finally, Mollie’s breathing began to steady. She pulled her face out from Aileen’s chest, furiously wiping her face with the back of her hand. “Ye said we wouldnae move anymore. No more moving castles! Ye said that, Leelee.”

The promise rang with faint familiarity. Guilt crept into Aileen’s throat, and she swallowed past the growing, sour lump.

“I miss Gerald,” Mollie sniffed. “I wanted to see the snowdrops with him and learn how to throw sticks like he does. I want to write letters with him, play in the snow, and have dinner at his table. With him on one side, and ye on the other.”

Gods, but Aileen’s heart was breaking. How was she supposed to explain what happened to Mollie?

How could she tell her that the man she idolized so much—the first man she referred to as her father—wanted nothing to do with his wife?

Aileen had promised to do better for herself, but how could she possibly do such a thing if it was at Mollie’s expense?

She would have to learn. Learn to stand at a distance, learn to simply view her marriage as her duty to the Highlands.

See Gerald as nothing more than a protector, as financial stability; he was nothing more than Mollie’s pathway to a better life.

Aileen knew she could do it. After all, what was one more sacrifice in her life?

“Sounds like we should pack to leave first thing in the mornin’, then.”

Aileen gasped, stumbling to her feet as she found Gerald standing directly behind her. He looked exhausted, as if he’d been riding across the Highlands nonstop. Mollie let out a similar gasp, one tinged with excitement as she threw herself into her husband’s arms.

“Ye’re here!” She cried, happy tears streaming down her face. “Ye came to see us!”

“I came back to ride with ye back home.” Gerald held Mollie so tightly in his arms that Aileen could have sworn she saw the faintest glimmer behind his eyes. “Ye never have to come back to this place if ye daenae wish it, lamb.”

Mollie squealed, excitedly rushing past Aileen and back into her room. “I’ll pack right now! I daenae take all me things out—we could leave tonight!”

“We’re nae leaving tonight,” Gerald chuckled lightly. “It’s too dark outside.”

“And anyway,” Aileen interjected. “I cannae just abandon the people here. At the very least, the council should be informed and have some time to prepare for me departure.”

Mollie hardly seemed as if a single word had registered.

“I’ll go tell Sarah right now! We’re going home, we’re going home!

” She bolted past Aileen, Bannock in hot pursuit as the pair vanished down the hall.

All Aileen could do was stare after, somewhat stunned at the sudden turn of events.

She looked back to Gerald, his soft expression hiding a note of … shame, she realized.

“Ye shouldnae have told her that,” Aileen said curtly.

“It’s the truth, though,” Gerald replied coolly. “We are to ride back to MacLiddel as soon as possible.”

Aileen’s fists curled at her side; any previous thoughts of submission were tossed aside, replaced with a burning desire to rip the control out of her husband’s hand. “I wrote to ye. Told ye I still had work to do.”

“Yer work is me work,” Gerald countered.

“So ye just decided I was done?” Aileen snapped.

“I decided I was finished actin’ the part of a coward, Aileen.”

That caught Aileen by surprise. She never thought she’d hear the Laird of MacLiddel openly call himself a coward. She crossed her arms against her chest, weeks of repressed anger flooding her veins.

Where apathy had once existed, there was now only a white-hot rage. Yet she bit her tongue, giving Gerald one more chance she was certain he did not deserve.

And she gave it to him—because, deep down, she wanted him to have it.

Gerald seemed to sense as much, and his mannerisms changed. He was no longer the unbreakable, unshakable Laird of MacLiddel, but simply Gerald Buchanan. Simply a man making himself entirely vulnerable to the woman he called his wife.

“I was a coward,” Gerald repeated firmly. “I used guilt—used me own brither’s death—as an excuse to keep meself closed off to others. I have always been terrified of being hurt as badly as I was the day he died. I was terrified to find happiness in a world that Ewan didnae live in.”

He exhaled sharply, visibly fighting to keep himself together. “I took that out on ye, and … and I shouldnae have. What was once a self-inflicted punishment lashed out at ye, and I’m sorry.”

Aileen stared at him, her anger wavering.

“These last two weeks have been unbearable. I couldnae think of anything else but the pair of ye. Of Mollie throwing sticks for Bannock, of ye breakin’ into a study I refused to fix the latch of, in hopes ye’d stumble in.”

Aileen’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden confession.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the sudden tremble running down the length of her arms. “The woman’s face in yer study, the one ye carved into yer bookshelf.

” She steeled herself for the answer, staring Gerald directly in the eye. “Whose face is it?”

Gerald’s smile expelled whatever anger she had tried to hold on to. “It’s always been yers, lass. Always.”

Her face flushed with a brilliant heat, and she found herself unable to stop stammering. “Ye’ve never told me ye loved me.”

“Easy. I love ye.”

It couldn’t be this easy.

“I love ye.”

“Ye didnae wish to have a family of yer own, though!”

“Ye’re me family, Aileen. Ye and Mollie, and whoever joins us later in our lives.”

Her face somehow grew hotter, and she tried to cover her cheeks with her hands.

Dizzy—why was she suddenly so dizzy? “Ye said ye didnae want children! And anyway, we’d have to …

ye’d have to claim me, first! And ye made it very clear that ye would do nae do such—!

” A startled squeal escaped her as Aileen was swept off her feet, carried firmly in Gerald’s arms.

“Tell me where yer room is,” Gerald whispered hoarsely. “And I’ll do it. Here and now, at the very keep where I first fell in love with ye.”

Hot—so hot—how could anything feel so hot? Aileen found it suddenly difficult to breathe, found her legs squirming in his grasp. A familiar sensation overtook her body, as if something once started was finally going to be finished.

She managed to point to the room across from Mollie’s, gasping as Gerald practically kicked the door down and crossed the room with great expediency. “Gerald! We couldnae possibly…”

He set her across the bed, his shirt already undone and pulled over his head. Aileen watched as her husband completely stripped down to the bare essentials, unable to stop herself from marveling at his physique. Gods above, but he was beautiful.

Perfectly carved by forces far beyond her understanding. She found herself sitting upright, her hands set against her chest with a nervous exhale. This was happening—this was actually happening.

“Say the word,” Gerald crooned. “Say the word, and I’ll make ye me lady at last.”

Yes. Gods, it’s all she ever wanted to hear. “Close the door first,” she squeaked out. “Its latch does work, so …”

A mischievous grin crossed Gerald’s lips as he obeyed. The door clicked loudly, sending a pleasant shiver up Aileen’s spine. She quickly worked to free herself of her bodice, the lacework of strings loosening enough for Gerald to suddenly appear once more and pull it over her head.

Next came her gown, and then—this was the first time she was fully exposed to him, Aileen realized. A slight chill lingered in the air, perking her nipples immediately.

A pleased growl escaped Gerald’s throat as he immediately set upon her, his lips kissing between the crevice as his hands held his body just above hers. It was like being trapped beneath a passionate beast, a wolf that had finally caught the fleeing deer.

Excitement coursed through Aileen as she ran her hands through his hair, digging into the back of his scalp as he kissed along her neck, beneath her chin, and finally, her lips.

His cock was so hard, tempting her inner thigh as they continued to kiss, to touch each other; her core was building so much quicker than last time, whatever cold she once felt was completely absent.

“I ken I have to earn yer trust back,” Gerald groaned, one hand cradling Aileen’s face as the other held the full brunt of his weight off her lithe body. “And I’ll start doing so here and now, and continue doing so for the rest of our time together.”

She panted heavily, legs curling beneath him as his member continued twitching against her.

“Say the word,” he rumbled, kissing her lightly once more. “Say the word, and I’ll make ye mine.”

Aileen finally caught her breath, her back arching as she caught him in a surprise kiss. As they pulled away, the startled delight in his eyes was infectious, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Aye, Gerald. It’s all I ever wanted to hear ye say.

” She wasn’t ready for the sudden pressure between her legs as he inserted himself, and wasn’t prepared for how much more filling his cock would be in comparison to his finger.

But it was just as invigorating, especially as he began to rock against her body in a slow, rhythmic pulse.

It was strange—not so long ago, she found herself terrified of this moment. Of failing in her duties, of leaving her husband dissatisfied. She should have known Gerald could never think such things, could never see her as anything but the woman he loved.

And the love she felt for him only intensified as he continued to lead, continued to thrust and grunt and kiss and adore a body she once found unwomanly.

The pressure in her built dramatically—far faster than when he’d used his hand alone— and his pace began to quicken, filling her faster than she ever thought possible.

And then, finally, at the highest moment, where Aileen thought herself unable to hold everything together, she erupted in a clamorous yowl, her nails digging into her husband’s back as he enveloped her completely.

This is what it meant to be complete; this is what it meant to truly be husband and wife.

And Aileen would experience such euphoria for the rest of her life, so long as she lived.