“If ye say so,” Bettia replied, but her tone made it clear she didn’t believe him.
Rhys brushed past Deirdre and went to Reikart’s side. “You’ll find people are not much different now than they are, you know…later. They believe the worst. So…”
Deirdre frowned. What was Rhys trying to tell his brother? Reikart turned to Rhys and nodded as if he understood. “I want to marry Deirdre Irvine,” Reikart shouted, turning in a full circle. She felt her mouth fall open at his announcement. His gaze locked on hers, and he held out his hand. “I want to marry you. Will you have me?”
Chapter Seventeen
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
“Winter is dead.”
~ A.A. Milne, “Daffodowndilly”
“Tell me what a scarlet letter is,” she said, turning to face Reikart. His back was to her because he was closing the door to the solar, where Rhys had led them right after Reikart had asked her to marry him. She knew Rhys, Maggie, Shona, and Grace were hovering on the other side of the door waiting for her answer, but she couldn’t give it until she had a moment alone with Reikart. Dermot had stayed behind to ensure all the clanspeople who’d been gathered in the courtyard had dispersed.
Reikart turned toward her, his eyes meeting hers. She read wariness and secrets there. What was she embroiling herself in by agreeing to this? Then again, what future prospects would she possibly have now? His jaw was visibly tense, and when he swiped a hand over it, she noticed his knuckles were cut and bleeding.
“Ye’re injured,” she said, going to him with no thought but to care for him. She took his hand in hers, his guarded gaze following her movements. “Let me wash yer cuts,” she said, tugging on his hand to move him toward a washbasin that was in one corner of the room. But trying to move this man was like trying to move a boulder. He was solid.
“It’s nothing,” he said, pulling his hand out of her grasp and rubbing the back of it against his braies to smear a trail of blood.
He didn’t want her to help him. Maybe he’d never want anything from her. Could she live with that? The question was similar to one she’d already asked. The real question was what could she live with? If she was in control, if she was defining her destiny now, what did she want from this man? What could she ask of him? Not love. Certainly not. She didn’t love him. She didn’t know him well enough yet. But if she did one day, then what? Was she to never hope for it in return?
She bit her lip, the turmoil in her mind feeling almost suffocating.
“The scarlet letter?” she prodded, unsure what else to say.
He let out a long breath, and the way he looked at her seemed to change from guarded to regretful. “It’s a story about a woman who is known to be an adulteress, so she’s labeled a whore. To punish her, the townspeople—um, her clan—make her wear a red letter on her dress, anAfor adulteress, when she’s around them, to shame her.”
“Ye do nae wish me to be shamed,” she said, completely understanding now.
He nodded. “I studied your time period. I know it well enough to understand that no matter what we say, they’ll think you sinful, ruined. No man will want to marry you. Then where will you be?”
Everything he said was true, which made her despise it that much more. Still… “Ye would bind yerself to me for life to protect me from being shamed?” He would give up his freedom.
The look he gave her—a mixture of agony and desire—made her shiver. “Yes,” he said into the thickening silence. “Iwillbind myself to you to protect you.”
She licked her lips, her mouth feeling suddenly dry, and her pulse beat and swelled at the base of her throat, as though her heart was no longer where it was supposed to be, as if his words, what was to come, was moving her heart up a bit, allowing it to float with possibility, with hope. He was the most honorable man she had ever met, and she’d be a fool not to take his offer.
“So?” He quirked one of his dark eyebrows. “What’s it going to be? Will you marry me?”
“I will,” she replied, her voice coming out barely above a whisper, “but I’d like to have a few things straight between us.”
He nodded, and a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t have a list of things you wanted to discuss first.”
She smiled at that, took a deep breath, and was about to tell him what was on her mind when a knock came at the door.
“’Tis Maggie. Is my sister all right?”
Reikart grinned, looking suddenly so carefree, so unlike his usual dark and brooding self. When he winked at her, her pulse leaped. “No. She’s weeping buckets of tears at the thought of having to marry me.”
Deirdre felt her eyes go wide as Maggie demanded to be let in, and arguing commenced on the other side of the door between Reikart’s family and her sister. Deirdre listened for a minute and then bellowed, “I’m fine! Please give us a moment.”
Silence fell immediately, and her gaze crashed into Reikart’s amused one. “You certainly know your own mind, Deirdre.”
