He shrugged, not wanting to dwell on their dad and how shitty he felt for having doubted him.
“Too bad I left my phone on Dad’s desk.”
Grey’s had made it through time intact. He’d used it to take a picture of Marian, which had gone a long way toward convincing her of the truth, but the battery was obviously long dead. And unfortunately, as much as he and Reik had thought their plan through, the only items he’d brought from the future were some scraps of paper with names and a map. Plus a pack of matches, just in case they landed in the middle of nowhere and needed to start a fire. They’d avoided bringing more in order to avoid accusations of witchcraft, but it had left him with no way to prove his wild story. Still, he’d show her what little he’d brought. Call on the others to back him up. It was certainly no slam dunk like a cell phone. He had to try, though. What choice did he have other than to make her believe him?
“She’ll expect a wedding night,” he said, rubbing his cheekbone.
“So? Give her one.”
His eyes widened. “Get her pregnant and then leave? Great plan, Grey.”
“I never said to get her pregnant. Or have sex with her. But you can still give her a wedding night. She’ll be nervous. Tell her you can take it slow.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Not doing it.”
When Grey opened his mouth to protest, Ian stopped him.
“Have some faith in me, for once. If you want me to wait a few days before talking to her, see what I can do with the father, fine. But I’m not touching my wife. All of this happened because of a kiss. I’m not going to make things worse.”
“Hmm.”
Ian was about to walk away, but he could tell Grey wasn’t finished.
“What?” If his tone was clipped, he wasn’t sorry.
“I’ll never understand you, Ian. You’re a total jerk in some ways, and honorable to a fault in others. I can’t stand you sometimes, but I love you, brother.”
He hadn’t expected that. If the torch behind his head hadn’t gone out, maybe Ian would have known for sure, but he could swear he saw a watery gleam in Grey’s eyes. Damned if he’d let that happen to him.
“Same,” he said, walking off but smiling to himself.
It was good to have at least one of his missing family members back. Even if he did want to strangle him sometimes.
The thought of strangling someone summoned the image of Lord Lovesick’s face, but Ian pushed it back out. He had no beef with the guy. If Màiri wanted to marry him when he left, more power to her.
Ian didn’t care. She was his wife in name only.
Now he had to keep it that way.
“You’veno need to look so frightened, lass,” Alana said. “With a man such as he, ’tis bound to be a pleasurable experience.”
Màiri looked back and forth between her maid and Lady Marian. When Greyson’s wife had knocked on the door, she’d thought for a wild moment that it was him. That Ian had already come for her. Relieved to see it was not, she’d welcomed her new sister-in-law into the beautifully appointed bedchamber. They sat in front of the hearth, one in each of the lovely chairs, and Alana sat on the large canopied bed behind them.
Before this eve, Màiri had only seen Lady Marian once before, standing beside Greyson at the marriage ceremony. They hadn’t spoken at the meal, as they’d been seated on opposite ends of the trestle table. Which was why Màiri was a bit surprised by her sudden visit. It felt strange to discuss such intimate matters around a stranger, but perhaps it wasn’t so odd given she’d just married one.
“Your maid is correct,” Lady Marian said. “’Tis the reason I came. We’ve little time to talk as this all happened so fast.”
Màiri practically snorted and then covered her mouth with her hand.
Marian’s soft chuckle, not judging but understanding, helped ease the situation. She did seem rather kind, and Màiri was grateful she’d have the companionship of another young person here at the castle.
“I’ve not known Ian for long,” Marian admitted. “But as his brother’s wife, I can tell you a bit about their family, if you’d like. And I will gladly answer any questions you may have.”
Màiri glanced at Alana, who stood from the bed.
“I will pardon myself.” Before she left, she walked toward the hearth and leaned down to hug Màiri, who squeezed her tightly.
“You will not leave Hightower just yet?”
