Alasdair narrowed his eyes at her. It was hard to imagine the woman standing before him now was the meek and gentle lass he had handfasted a decade ago. “Ye have really changed, have ye nae?”
She crossed her arms again, the coldness in her eyes completely unrelenting as the gentle wind tugged at her hair. “Aye, a woman has to when she alone must care for her family, let alone a whole village. But ye have changed, too, apparently. So tell me, why are they calling ye a laird?”
“Ye will speak to our Laird with respect!” the younger guard snapped, his voice firm.
“That is the lady of yer clan,” Alasdair stated, shooting him a glare. “If ye disrespect her again, I’ll deal with ye personally, lad.” Then, he took a step closer to her. “Because I was always the spare. Son of the MacRay line. I just took a break, and that happened to be on yer faither’s ship.”
“Well, good for ye,” she said, turning on her heel. “But ye’re still nae me husband. I daenae want one anyway.”
However, before she could take another step away from him, he reached for her wrist.
She froze.
“I daenae think ye understand me, wife.” His voice was low and steady, a sharp contrast to the playful tone from earlier. “This isnae about what ye want or daenae want. This is about the safety of me people. And ye are coming with me, whether ye like it or nae.”
Her eyes met his, and her throat worked around a swallow.
He didn’t smile this time. He didn’t need to.
And he was sure she could tell.
CHAPTER 2
Alasdair had expected some pushback,if he was being honest with himself, but he did not think it would be this harsh. It never fully occurred to him just how much his absence had affected her. Now that she stood before him, her arm clasped in his hand, he was beginning to see.
“Let go of me,” she snapped, trying to yank back her arm.
He didn’t. If anything, his hand tightened around her.
“Nay,” he said quietly. “I cannae do that.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I said, let me go!”
Still, his hand didn’t budge. She was warm beneath his grip. Her skin was just as soft and comforting as he remembered. He hadn’t realized until now just how much he missed how she felt.
“I need me wife.”
She scoffed loud enough for the birds above the trees to fly off the branches. “How else do ye want me to get it through that head of yers? I am nay longer yer wife, and ye were never me husband.”
“Aye, I am.”
She pulled back harder. “Nae in any way that matters. Ye gave up that title the instant ye decided to run off like a coward.”
“I didnae run off?—”
“Ye left me with nothing but a stupid letter. What else would ye call that?”
Silence fell between them, and Alasdair could feel her slowly relax in his grasp, even if just a little. Her tongue, however, did not take the same break her arm did.
“Ye ken, I’d even forgotten yer face,” she added.
That stung more than he had expected. But he kept his face calm.
“Did ye now?” he asked.
“Aye,” she bit out. “I thought ye looked better.”
He laughed, though his hand didn’t release her arm. He didn’t want to let go. Not yet. “Ye daenae think I look better than when I was seventeen?”
