“I understand you are innocent of wrongdoing and that you are a victim in this. I will treat you kindly and with the respect due your position as a chieftain’s daughter and now a chieftain’s wife. I’ll not ever punish the daughter for the sins of the father.”
She pushed up from the chair, and to his utter shock, she balled her fist and punched him right in the nose.
He reeled back, his hand going automatically to the place she’d struck. Not that she’d hit him hard enough to do any damage or cause any real pain. He was more flabbergasted by her reaction than anything.
She stomped past him, her feet making light sounds despite the exaggerated fashion in which she was trying to display her anger.
She threw open his door and he was on his feet immediately, knowing that if she succeeded in slamming it—which she seemed very intent on doing—that it would wake the others in adjacent chambers and then everyone would be in the hall to see her stomping out of his room.
And then? All hell would break loose.
He caught it just as she released it and swept into the hall. Then he stood there a long moment, breathing heavy breaths as he watched her disappear down the dimly lit corridor.
Daft or off she may be, but she clearly didn’t like for her family to be disparaged in any manner. He smiled ruefully. He admired loyalty. He demanded it. He could hardly respect the lass if she’d sat there stoically and accepted anything ill he said of her clan.
He quietly closed the door and then turned to start undressing for bed. Then he laughed.
The lass had been a complete and utter surprise and he still had no idea what on earth to make of her.
The only thing he could be assured of was that quite possibly he’d never be sure of her or what each day would bring from this day forward.
CHAPTER 9
Graeme’s first glimpse of his bride was confusing for him. It was as if the woman he’d spent a brief period of time with the night before was someone completely different than this woman standing in the hall where they were to be married.
He paused at the doorway, watching the goings-on, but his concentration was focused on Eveline.
She was adorned in a gown finer than anything he’d seen even at court. Rich blue, intricately embroidered, and the material fell in precise layers from her waist. The top, while modest, drew attention to the lushness of her feminine curves—curves that he still felt guilt for even noticing.
Her blond hair, a beautiful splash of sunshine on a spring day in the highlands, was partially upswept, gathered in a mass atop her head, but the rest fell down to her waist in silken waves. She was beautiful, but there was something missing.
Her spark. The one he’d witnessed the night before.
She looked … like she was anywhere but where she was. She had a distant, vacant expression on her face, and nothing that went on around her seemed to register.
She looked tired and defeated and … scared.
That part he hated. It angered him and he didn’t even know why. The very last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid. It riled protective instincts that he damn sure shouldn’t have for anyone named Armstrong. But there it was. He was ready to stomp over and lay siege to whatever was causing her current mood.
He stood a little longer, watching as the activity increased in preparation for the wedding. Eveline stood quietly next to her mother, her hands gripped in front of her. As he studied her further, he realized that it wasn’t fear that had seized her. She was just … unaware.
That brought a frown to his face. Was she bespelled by good and bad days? Did she gain and lose lucidity in random pattern? Was she afflicted by an illness of the mind that caused drastic changes in behavior?
It could certainly explain the oddness of her behavior with him yesterday.
Unease settled over him as once more it was brought home that this match was in essence a death sentence. Instead of being a husband, he’d be assigned the role of a caretaker. He would protect her and make sure she was taken care of, but she would never be a wife to him.
No one would ever fault him for finding ease with another woman when he was married to someone such as Eveline. No one would even think twice, given that Eveline was certainly not capable of fulfilling her duties in that regard.
But it didn’t set well with him. It was dishonorable and it was no fault of Eveline’s that she was the way she was. He couldn’t bring himself to betray her that way. Or to dishonor them both in such a fashion.
He would be faithful to a woman he would never be intimate with, and it was one hell of a grim future to look forward to.
His gaze swept over the hall once more, and then it came back to Eveline, who still stood in the same place she’d been. So still and serene as if she were someplace else entirely.
But then her gaze shifted, met his, and her entire demeanor changed. She smiled. Light entered her eyes. Her face became alive with color and vibrancy. In just that second, she was here. In the hall. Staring back at him, her look of vacancy completely gone.
Thinking to ward off another encounter where she’d rush forward and start squashing his lips together in an effort to make him talk, he strode forward.
Eveline’s mother looked up, her eyes flaring in alarm. Her arm went immediately around Eveline, but Eveline shook her off and took a step forward, beaming at Graeme all the while.
Graeme gave a courtly bow to Lady Armstrong and then turned to Eveline just as she reached out to touch him. On the arm this time.
Just a simple touch, but in that small gesture there was so much more. She left her fingers there on his bare arm, a signal of … trust. She tilted her chin so she could look up at him, and she smiled even more, her blue eyes sparkling with what looked to be clear happiness.