Chapter 14

14

Mary picked her way along the path, stepping in the piles of dead leaves just to hear the satisfying crunch they let out. She needed something to keep her focus after her mind had been left in such a state the evening before, when Kieran had left her in her bed, alone.

She had waited for him to come back to her for hours, listening for his footsteps along the corridor, for something, anything that would promise he had not just turned his back on her and walked away. But there was nothing. By the time she fell asleep, the morning light had begun to filter through the windows, and she was still so exhausted now she could scarcely bring herself to get out of bed at all.

But she knew that lying in that bed all day would have done nothing to improve her mood, and so, finally, she had forced herself to get to her feet and go to the gardens that Archie had shown her. Something about the cool air on her skin, the quiet around her, the slight rustling of leaves when a wind rolled in, it salved something in her aching soul.

As she perched down on the bench by the pond that Archie had taken her to, she found her mind twisting back in the direction of the man she had given herself to the night before. She had thought that, when they came together in that way, it would lower whatever walls he had left up between them, giving her the space, at last, to draw him close to her. Though she had entered into this marriage as a way to escape from her father’s plans for her, if she could find real connection in it, she would welcome it with open arms. How could she not?

And how could he, with such ease, walk away from her after they had shared that sacred moment? Had she done something wrong? She’d never experienced such a thing in her life before, and she couldn’t help but wonder if, perhaps, she had made some kind of mistake, shown her inexperience in some way he couldn’t stand. But as she went back over the encounter in her mind, she could see no instant that it had fallen apart. They had been together, moving with each other, so close that it felt as though nothing could have pulled them apart, and then…

Then, he was gone. She sighed as she stared down into the pool of gray-blue water before her, and kicked a small rock beside her into it, watching the ripples spread out from where it broke the surface. That, she pondered, was how she felt about what Kiernan had done to her. She had started out smooth and safe and peaceful, and then, he had burst into her life and cast ripples across every inch of it. Unlike the water, she knew she would never go back to a perfect stillness again.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her, and she glanced over, praying that it was Kiernan coming to explain himself. Instead, she found Archibald making his way towards her, a slight furrow in his brow, as though he could not parse what she would be doing out here.

“Good morning, my lady,” he greeted her, and she gestured for him to join her on the bench. Perhaps it would do her good to have some kind of company, though she knew that Archie would likely report back everything she had to say to his master.

“Good morning,” she sighed as he joined her. He paused for a moment, silent, and glanced around.

“Forgive me for prying, lady Mary,” he remarked. “But I don’t see yer husband anywhere.”

“Good,” she muttered before she could stop herself. Silently, she cursed herself for her brazenness, wishing she could take it back at once, though she knew there was no way she could.

Archie let out a slight snort, clearly surprised by how open she was being.

“Did something happen between you and the Laird?” he asked her quietly. She hesitated for a moment. Could she really trust someone who served him with the deep well of emotion that she held inside of her at that moment? But then, she remembered Archie’s kindness before, how he had shown her this place, and told her a little of the way things had been before. Nobody else had offered her such kindness, and she supposed that she’d find nobody better to answer her questions.

“I…”

She trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Could she tell him that she and the Laird had been together the night before? That they had shared an intimacy she had never imagined possible? She glanced over at him, to find him studying her with a genuine curiosity, and it struck her that he might already know something was wrong.

“Some of the lady’s maids saw him emerging from your quarters late last night,” he murmured, lowering his voice and leaning a little closer to her. “Perhaps… perhaps the two of you…?”

She felt a lump rise in her throat and swallowed down on it hard. She hated how easy it seemed to be to read what had happened between them. She had hoped that moment would stay between the two of them, but, by the sound of it, it was already the talk of the whole Keep. She nodded, just once, drawing her gaze away from him.

“It was… it was the first time since we were married,” she confessed to him. He grimaced slightly and nodded.

“Aye, that was what I was worried about.”

She turned to him, surprised.

“You were worried that Kiernan and I…?”

He sighed, and ran a hand through his thinning hair, clearly wondering if he should even say what was on his mind. She stared at him, willing him to come clean, no matter how difficult it might have been. She was utterly lost, and anything she could cling on to that would help make the slightest bit of sense out of what happened, she would cling to it with all her might.

“I… I supposed that he might have waited some time before the two of you took your marital rites,” he explained, speaking carefully, as though fearful that he might say more than he meant to.

“But why?” she asked him, her voice cracking slightly. She cursed herself for being so emotional. She wished she could contain the sting of what he had done, but it rose to the surface with every breath.

“Now, I’m no’ the man to ask about this,” he warned her. “Kiernan’s the only one who can tell ye the truth of his intentions. But I wondered, when I heard news that he had married part of the Aitken clan, if there was… more to it than pure love, let’s say.”

Her heart dropped. She supposed she had no right to cast aspersions on what his reasons might have been for choosing to marry her, given that her own had been to escape a wedding to a man of her father’s choosing. But had they not moved past that in the time she had been here? Had she not proved herself a worthy wife? Had she not been enough for him?

She rose to her feet, and Archie’s face creased with concern.

“Where are ye going in such a hurry, lass?”

“To talk to Kiernan,” she replied, her voice dripping with venom. “You’re right. If I want to find out what he thinks, I need to ask him myself.”

She stalked back towards the Keep, her head rushing and her heart pounding. She knew little of what she was planning to say to him, just that she knew she needed to say it. She had to hear it from him. If what Archie had told her was true, if he was just using her, then she deserved to know it. She could hardly back out of the marriage now, but at least she could save herself further humiliation in the form of pining after him the way she had been.

Passing by his quarters, Mary made her way to his study, sure that was where he would be hiding out. Sure enough, when she pushed open the door, she found him behind his desk. He frowned when he saw her striding in, but rolled his shoulders back and rose to his feet, as though prepared for whatever conflict she intended to throw at him.

“What do ye want, lass?”

“I want you to explain to me why you did what you did last night.”

“What part of it?”

“Leaving me!” she exploded, the anger rendering her unable to lower her voice.

“Lower yer voice,” he ordered her, irritation crossing his face. She clenched her hands at her sides, the fury only growing inside of her. She knew it was not all fury that was aimed at him, but at her father, too, at everyone who had ever tried to use her as some means to an end. She had given herself to him, she had believed wholeheartedly that he truly desired her, only for him to turn around and treat her like a child? She wanted to scream, to tear his books from the shelves and hurl them at him.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

He glared at her.

“You sound like a child,” he snapped, and he stepped towards her, catching her by the shoulder. “What do ye want?”

“I want you to explain to me why you married me.”

His face started with surprise at the sound of those words coming out of her mouth. His mouth twisted up into a questioning expression.

“Because I wanted you to be my wife.”

He was dodging the question, she could sense it. She shook her head.

“But why did you want me to be your wife?” she pleaded with him. She needed an answer, she needed a reason.

“Perhaps you should be asking yerself why you were so keen to become my wife,” he shot back at her. She started. For a moment, she had forgotten that she had told him about her father’s intentions to marry her off, and for him to throw this back in her face like that, it almost made her want to cry.

“At least I was honest with you!” she cried out in protest. “The least you can do is tell me why you wanted to marry me, Kiernan. I’m your wife. I deserve to know.”

She trailed off as he stared down at her for a long moment, a darkness crossing her face that seemed almost familiar to her. Then, she remembered the dreams she’d been having before she had left to be his wife, the darkness that had crossed his expression in her nightmares. Perhaps they had been trying to warn her of something. Perhaps she should have heeded it.

“You truly want tae know?”

She nodded, trembling slightly. She knew well that the moment he told her his answer, she would not be able to forget it. She had hoped, she had prayed, that there was something real between them, but as he looked at her now, she could barely see the man who had been with her the night before, and that scared her.

Perhaps the man who stood before her now was the truer version of the man she had married.

He leaned in closer to her, his voice dropping, his eyes blazing with anger.

“Because my father couldnae find a way to take the Aitken Keep,” he growled. “And I told myself, when he died, that I’d be damned if I couldn’t find a way tae make it happen myself. You were that way, Mary. You were my way into the clan.”

She felt as though her knees were going to give in underneath her as she stared back at him. That he could say it so bluntly, and with such little regard for how she felt… he truly was the man that Arran had warned her he had been all this time, but she had been too desirous to realize it.

“You… you married me for that?”

“Aye, and you’ve no place to be telling me I’m wrong for it,” he snapped at her, narrowing his eyes. “You only wanted to marry me to get out of that marriage yer father had planned for you. We both needed something, and we both got it. I dinnae see a problem with that.”

She felt tears prick her eyes, and she blinked them back at once, praying that he hadn’t seen them. She couldn’t stand the thought of him seeing how badly he had hurt her with his words. She drew herself up to her full height, though she knew she was far from formidable in the face of this place.

“Well, I’ll not bother you with my presence any longer,” she spat at him, and she turned on her heel and stormed towards the door. Some part of her hoped that he could call out to her, tell her that he was sorry and ask her to come back, but the silence rang in her ears, impossible to ignore, impossible to deny.

In that moment, she swore that she would not allow him to hurt her again. She knew that detaching herself from him after what they had shared would be near-impossible, that there was a good chance no man would want her again, after what she had done. But living as an eternal spinster was better than staying with a man who would treat her in such a fashion.

She would leave. She would get out of this place and never look back, return to her sister, to the Aitken Keep. She’d have to pray that her marriage to Kiernan would serve as protection against whatever her father had planned for her, though she knew she’d have to cross that bridge when she reached it.

She reached her quarters again, and finished scribbling the letter she had started writing to Amelia. She would send it later today, and let her know that she intended on returning. Soon, she would be back where she belonged, with her real family, though she would have some wounds to tend to when she returned. She supposed she would have to admit to her eldest sister that she had been right, and that she should not have gone with someone like Kiernan, but that would be a small price to pay for the prize of returning home, returning to a place she knew she was safe.

For now, all that mattered was claiming her freedom again, and starting on the long road to forget the man whom she had given herself to, body and soul.