Ian smiled at his own joke.
“You smile a lot.”
Not the worst accusation he’d ever heard.
“There’s usually a lot to smile about.”
Until there wasn’t. Mom’s disappearance. Dad’s sickness. Time travel. His wedding. But Ian would take joy where he could find it. Always had.
He was currently standing in front of a warm fire with a goblet of wine in his hand and a beautiful woman next to him. If not for the circumstances, there would be a hell of a lot to smile about right now.
Stunning. That was the best way to describe Màiri. And seductive too, without having a damn clue about her allure. Her robe, or whatever it was called, wasn’t one of the big, fluffy ones you’d find in a hotel. It was thin, highlighting every luscious curve as if to taunt him.
“Shall we sit?”
Seeing the tension ease from her shoulders, he sat down next to her. The padded wooden chair was comfortable, though it was no recliner. He lifted his wine for a toast.
“To an eventful day.”
They drank. Ian had a pretty high tolerance, but this stuff was a bit more potent than he was used to, and it was definitely affecting him. He was more relaxed than he’d expected to be on the day he’d been forced to take a wife.
“Smiling again,” she said softly.
“This isn’t the worst way to spend an evening. Sitting by the fire with a beautiful woman.”
He hadn’t meant the words to sound facetious, but Ian could see that’s how she took them.
“Màiri, I don’t plan on consummating our marriage tonight.”
Or ever.
That got her attention.
“We hardly know each other. And I’m sorry for how everything—” He nearly saidwent down, but suspected it would earn him a blank look. “How everything progressed. I should not have kissed you. And I probably shouldn’t have told your father about it.”
“Probably?”
Ian stretched his legs out in front of him.
“I underestimated the force of his response. But I didn’t want him to learn of it without me fessing up first.”
Màiri, still on the defensive, looked at him over the rim of her goblet as she sipped her wine. If she was thrown by his use offessing, she didn’t say so.
“Why?” she finally asked.
Damn Grey.This is the part where he should tell her everything. Show her the documents, not that they were proof of anything, but paper hadn’t yet been invented here. And Grey, and Marian, and even Ross could help convince her of the truth.
Then he could just tell her why it had been so important for them to marry.I didn’t want to risk pissing your father off to the point of no return. Your brother is a key part of a battle to come, and your dad needs to realign with Bruce.
He could still do it. Just because his brother had told him not to . . .
“It felt like the right thing to do,” he said, because it was true. “If I thought he’d demand that we marry . . .”
Màiri sighed. “You could not have known. He’s said many times a stronger alliance with MacKinnish would be desirable, other than the issue of the Bruce. And it also meant that I could not marry Ambrose . . . ”
“Your father really hates him that much?”
When Màiri stood to place her presumably empty wine goblet on the table, he bolted up and refilled it instead. She was still a bundle of nerves, and another drink wasn’t the worst idea.
