Page 34 of The Laird's Wicked Game
Kylie stilled at this revelation. “And did yemarryyoung too?” she asked softly.
The laird’s features tensed. “No … I was one and twenty when I took Donalda as my wife.” He then pushed away his trencher, and the remains of his meal, and leaned back in his chair, eyeing her over the rim of his cup. “As ye might have guessed … we weren’t overly happy together.”
Kylie wasn’t sure how to respond. Indeed, she’d speculated on the laird’s marriage, yet hadn’t been bold enough to ask him directly about it. All the same, he’d heard her unvoiced question.
Silence swelled between them before he lifted his cup to his lips then and took a deep draft. “Donalda was a good woman, and it was a fine match, for she was the daughter of a MacDonell chieftain. She was an excellent mother and chatelaine too, but things between us were …” He trailed off there, cutting his gaze away. “Distant.”
Kylie picked up her cup and took a large gulp. Curse her, she now heartily wished that she hadn’t led them onto this subject. It was clearly one that put him in ill humor. Earlier, she’d been enjoying the laird’s company. They’d had an exhilarating day out, and their conversation when they’d stopped atop Dùn da Ghaoithe had made her relax in his company.
“It didn’t help that Donalda’s womb took a long time to quicken. Seven years, in fact … and only after she went to see a herbwife for help,” he spoke up once more, taking Kylie by surprise. “She didn’t welcome my touch … but forced herself to do so to give me sons.” A deep groove furrowed between his eyebrows at the memory. “It made me feel like a beast … as if each time I lay with my wife, she barely suffered it.”
“Didn’t ye try to make coupling … pleasurable … for her?” The moment the question slipped from her tongue, Kylie slammed her mouth shut. Hades, what was wrong with her this evening? Mortified, she took another gulp of wine.
Maclean’s attention cut back to her, his mouth quirking, even as his gaze remained shadowed. “I did my best … but Donalda was my first … myonly… lover.”
Kylie’s pulse quickened. She had only herself to blame for the turn this conversation had taken. She wasn’t sure how she’d expected Maclean to respond, but she hadn’t seen this admission coming.
“Apologies,” he said, flashing her an embarrassed smile. “This isn’t a conversation fit for a lady.”
She snorted before reaching for the wine jug, refilling both their cups. “Really? I was the one who instigated it.”
“Coupling doesn’t disgust ye then?”
She flashed him a veiled look. “No … I was wed once, remember?”
His jaw tightened, and she swore she saw something akin to jealousy flash in his eyes. “Yer husband pleasedyethen?”
She let out a long, slow exhale before shaking her head. It was her turn to divulge details now, and only right too since he’d been candid with her. “At first … until Errol grew frustrated that I never got with bairn.” She broke off then, her chest constricting at painful memories. “He was desperate for sons, ye see … and fathered three of them on local women.” A familiar ache rose in her chest at this admission. “Things were never the same between us after he strayed from my bed … I stopped enjoying our coupling after that, for I could never trust him enough to relax in his arms again.”
Maclean didn’t answer immediately. She didn’t blame him either. She’d said more than enough. Too much, in fact. What was it about this man that made her blurt out her unfiltered thoughts? This gruff, enigmatic chieftain had a strange power over her.
“Ye didn’t deserve such treatment, lass,” he said finally, his voice roughening. “No woman does.”
“Aye, well … no man wants a barren wife,” she answered ducking her head so he wouldn’t see the bitterness in her eyes.
He made a noise in the back of his throat. “For a while, Donalda and I both worried that we wouldn’t have bairns … but never did I consider straying from her bed because of it.”
The ache under her breastbone deepened. “That’s because ye are a decent man, Rae. If only there were more men like ye.” She swallowed then, cursing herself for addressing him by his first name. He should remain ‘Maclean’ to her. It was proper.
She was still railing at herself, when he answered, “I’m not that decent.” His voice was low, but something in it made her chin kick up. “If I were, I wouldn’t ache for ye,Kylie.” The expression on his face made her pulse flutter in the hollow of her neck. Her breathing now came in short, shallow gasps. The man was looking at her as if he wished to devourher.
Tension crackled in the air between them. She didn’t speak, for she didn’t want to break this delicious, forbidden enchantment that had spun between them. However, what she wished to admit was that this infatuation wasn’t one-sided. She ached to tell him she hadn’t forgotten their kiss or that the sight of him naked on the shore that day had made her imagine a host of inappropriate things.
The silence swelled, and then Maclean pushed himself up from the table.
Her belly clenched in disappointment. He thought he’d taken things too far and was about to end their conversation. “I should be honest with ye as well,” she said huskily. “It seems only fair.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Aye?”
“Aye.” She broke off there, swallowing as her throat tightened. “The truth is … I … I want ye too.”
His lips parted, and for a moment, he merely stared at her. And then, to her surprise, he turned and moved to the bookshelf behind him. Taking down a slim wine-red leather-bound volume, he handed it to her. He then lowered himself back down onto his seat.
Pulse still skittering, Kylie viewed the leather cover. “The Art of Coupling,” she murmured before glancing up at him, confused. “What’s this?”
“Ye are right … I was unsure of myself when I first wed … but then I found this on my father’s bookshelf” —Hades, the man was blushing now— “that spoke of how to bed a woman.” He gave a soft snort then. “I read it from cover to cover, but when I attempted to do some of the things I’d read with Donalda, she screeched like a banshee.”
Kylie swallowed. “Ye read a book about …coupling?”