But dammit, he knew she intended to keep his real identity a secret for as long as she could, out of some misplaced notion she needed to protect him. Now, though, she just looked like she wanted to kill him.
“They know we’re married?” she said through gritted teeth, balling her hands into fists, probably to keep from slapping him.
Keeping a guarded eye on Greylen and Robbie standing across the room in front of the hearth, Matt simply nodded.
“Matt called us yesterday afternoon,” a wide-eyed Grace said from beside Greylen. Matt didn’t think Grace was as horrified by his appearance as her daughter, but only disconcerted. “And he told us not to worry about you,” she continued. “That you were with him in Utah, and that you had gotten married in Las Vegas that morning.”
“But why?” Winter asked, looking from her mother to Matt. “Why would you have called and told them we were married?”
“To give them a chance to get used to the idea,” Matt said, finally giving Winter his full attention.
“I don’t know your parents or MacBain well enough to even guess what their reaction would be when you walked in here today and sprang this on them.”
“You were trying to protect me?” she whispered, looking at the sword in his hand, then back up at him. “From my own family?”
Matt finally slid his weapon into the sheath on his belt and nodded. “Finish introducing me,” he softly commanded.
Winter ran her gaze over his plaid, momentarily stopping on his half-naked chest before continuing up to meet his determined eyes. She stepped closer. “I think they’ve figured that out already,”
she whispered tightly. “But what I can’t figure out is why tell them this way?” she asked, waving at his plaid.
Matt reached up and ran his knuckles over her angry red cheek. “Keeping secrets from your family will only make you sick with worry,” he told her. “They need to know, lass, so they can decide how they should react.”
“How theyshould react?” she hissed, grabbing his plaid and balling it in her fist. But whatever she intended to say next was lost when Greylen MacKeage spoke.
“Come here, Winter,” the aging but still-imposing laird softly growled.
Other than letting go of his plaid so she could turn to face her father, Winter didn’t move. “I can
’t, Papa,” she said, holding a beseeching hand out to Greylen even as she lifted her chin. “He’s my husband, and I must stand beside him now.”
Matt felt some of the tension ease between his shoulders.
“He tricked ye,” Greylen ground out. “Ye thought ye were marrying Matt Gregor. We’ll have the marriage annulled. Now come here.”
Winter dropped her hand. “D-don’t make me choose between you,” she softly petitioned, looking at her mother, then back at Greylen. “I don’t want an annulment. I knew exactly who I was marrying yesterday.”
“But ye don’t understand what you’ve done,” Grey whispered, his anger turning to desperation.
“You’ve thrown away yer calling without fully knowing the consequences.”
“No,” she said. “I’ve embraced my calling.”
“Ye can’t have it both ways, Winter,” MacBain interjected, frowning at her. “If ye have a bairn, your calling is lost. And even marrying another drùidhwon’t change that.”
The knot of tension in Matt’s shoulders returned, this time with alarm, when his wife folded her arms under her breasts and smiled at her cousin. “Are you positive about that?” she asked. “Surely two powerful drùidhscan give good old stuffy Providence a much-needed shake-up.”
MacBain paled, Greylen swore rather crudely, and Matt could only gape at his wife.
“Winter!” Grey snapped. “Three days ago ye didn’t even know ye had a calling, and now you’
re daring to challenge Providence? That’s damn near blasphemous.”
“This is serious, Winter,” MacBain said, stepping away from the hearth toward her. “The continuum is dying.”
“Dying?” Winter echoed. “Or merely shifting?” She also stepped closer. “What if I told you there’s a way to bring the energy back into balance and save mankind without any of us risking our souls?”
“That’s not possible,” MacBain argued, shaking his head. He waved toward Matt. “Your husbandhere has messed with the energy so badly it may never recover. Ye need to renounce your marriage and get on with the business of saving the pine.”
Unable to dispute nor defend his naively optimistic wife, since her boast was news to him as well, Matt could only watch in silence as Winter looked at her mother. “Tell them, Mama,” she said softly. “As a scientist, explain to these stubborn men that nothing in nature is ever completely predictable.
Tell them how everything must continue to evolve in order to survive, including the very energy of life.”
Grace MacKeage frowned at her daughter, then finally nodded. “Actually, she’s right,” she said as she looked at her husband. “Just because something has worked for centuries, or even for millennia, doesn’t mean it will continue to work indefinitely. Sometimes it’s subtle and sometimes it’s catastrophic, but change is constantly occurring.” She looked at Winter, her face relaxing in a smile. “Ultimately, even the energy must change right along with us.”
“Yes,” Winter agreed as she turned to Matt. “As my husband, you have to trust me.” She turned to her papa and cousin. “And I expect no less from either of you. I’ve accepted my calling, and now you must trust me to get us out of this mess.” She pointed a threatening finger at the two men.
“Without holding Matt to blame,” she added in warning. She turned just enough to include him. “While I’
m learning how to control the magic, I want the three of you to figure out who cut the top off my pine tree. There’s an unknown player in this maddening game, and that’s where the danger truly lies.”
Matt folded his arms over his chest as he stared at Winter, finding his first smile since she’d demanded he make Wanda Farley his new quality control manager. It seemed his bride was a bossy little thing, if not downright fond of giving orders.
He’d have to do something about that, he decided…say in another ten or twenty years, just as soon as he figured out how to make himself immune to her magic.
The front door suddenly opened and closed with a window-rattling bang. “Did I get here in time!” Megan called out, rushing into the living room. She came to a halt by running into Matt’s half-naked chest, jumping back with a gasp. “Who the hell are you?” she said, only to gasp again.
“Matt?” Her expression turned from surprise to horror as she realized what he was wearing, her wide eyes stopping on the sword hanging from his belt. “Cùram,” she whispered, taking another step back.
“It’s okay, Meg,” Winter said, rushing to her sister at the same time Grace did, both women reaching out to support the pale young woman. “He’s not a monster like everyone thinks. He’s just my husband.” Winter shot Matt a look. “Say something,” she demanded.
Matt bowed and gave Megan a warm smile. “Hello, sister.”
Apparently not quite ready to have Cùram de Gairn call her sister, Megan tried to take another step back but seemed to go weak in the knees. Winter gave Matt one last scolding glare before she all but carried her stunned sister toward the stairs with her mother. “Come on, Meg,” she said. “You can help me pack a few of my things.”
“Y-you married Cùram?” Megan whispered as they mounted the stairs. “But why?”
Matt didn’t hear Winter’s answer as the three women rose out of sight, but he certainly heard the silence left in their wake, its center emanating from directly behind him. Matt turned to face Greylen and Robbie, holding his hands behind his back as he waited for the storm to arrive, which it certainly did, and with predictable impact.
“Ye have more balls than brains, ye bastard,” Grey snapped, taking a step toward him. “I’m going to kill ye for what ye’ve done to my daughter.”