It's too soon! But Michael was leaving his position by the wall to stand by the laird's bed. In a daze, Catherine joined him. In a last effort to stop this madness, she said feebly, "We don't have a ring."
The duke promptly pulled a ring off his little finger and gave it to Michael. "That's easily remedied."
The laird grasped Catherine's icy left hand and Michael's right and began the ceremony. At the end, he joined their hands together. "I now pronounce you man and wife, and may you bear strong sons together."
Amy said under her breath, "That's a silly ceremony. What about daughters?"
Ignoring her, the laird said, "You can kiss the bride now, Kenyon. I don't imagine it's for the first time."
There was a pause that seemed to stretch forever. Then Michael's lips touched Catherine's, cool and passionless. Releasing her hand, he said, "Now that the pressing business is out of the way, I'd like to be excused so I can sleep twelve or fourteen hours."
"Me, too," Catherine said in an unsteady voice.
The laird sighed and leaned back against the pillows. "I need rest also. It's been quite a day. Davin, see that rooms are made up for Amy and Ashburton."
After shaking his brother's hand and offering hearty congratulations, Ashburton embraced Catherine. "Welcome to the family." There was far more warmth in his voice than there had been in Michael's. Turning to Amy, he said, "It looks like we may be the only ones awake soon. Since I'm now an uncle of sorts, shall we further our acquaintance? Perhaps the constable can find someone to give us a tour of Skoal."
"I'd like that," Amy said. "Can we also get my things from Lord Haldoran's house?"
Davin said, "The head groom will be glad to oblige. I'd do it myself, but… but I must tell Glynis what has happened." He swallowed hard. "Thank you, Catherine. I'm still stunned that anyone could be so generous."
"Not generous. Just." She stood on her toes and brushed a light kiss on his cheek. "I hope you'll let us visit. I've grown very fond of the island."
He smiled with a warmth that touched his aqua island eyes. "You will always be welcome on Skoal, and in my home."
Everyone left the laird's chamber in a group. After hugging Amy, Catherine turned and accompanied a silent Michael upstairs to the chamber they had shared. He seemed farther away than when she had been on Skoal and he was on the mainland.
As soon as they entered the room, they separated, Michael going to the window to look out at the soft gray rain and Catherine glancing in the mirror. Lord, she was a wreck, with circles under her eyes and hair rioting from her single braid. No one would think her beautiful now.
Nervously she untied her braid and combed her fingers through the tangled locks. Needing to break the killing silence, she said, "That's all you have to wear, isn't it? You and your brother are about the same size. Do you think he would lend you some clothing?"
"Probably." He opened the window to let in the cool rain-scented air. "I'll have to send a message to Lucien to tell him that everything is all right. Otherwise he'll be down here taking Skoal apart in a few days."
As conversation it wasn't much, but at least he was talking. She looked at her oversized wedding ring. It was a gold signet bearing what must be the Kenyon arms. The duke's seal of approval on the marriage. But what about Michael's? Voice low, she said, "So much has happened in the last few days. It's hard to believe we're actually husband and wife."
Michael's breathing changed to a harsh wheeze that made her blood freeze. She whirled around and found him bent over, one hand clinging to the bedpost and the other pressed to his chest. "Dear God, Michael," she exclaimed. "What's wrong?"
"Mild… asthma attack," he panted. "Just need. Fresh air." He managed the two steps to a window and threw open the casements so he could draw the cool sea air into his lungs.
Catherine poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the washstand and took it to him. "Would you like a drink?"
He emptied the glass in two swallows. After handing it back, he turned and slid to the floor, supported against the wall. His face was gray with strain and the pulse at the base of his throat was beating like a trip-hammer. "I'm fine. Really. But, Christ, the second asthma attack in a week. I'm falling apart."
Catherine knelt beside him, watching his face like a nurse as well as a wife. "The second?"
"I had a much worse one when Stephen found me in Great Ashburton." The skin tightened over his cheekbones. "That one was as bad as when my mother died."
Painfully aware that this attack must have been triggered by her remark about them being husband and wife, Catherine said carefully, "Is this one a result of general exhaustion and stress, or is it because you don't wish to be married to me?"
He gazed at her with bleak honesty, too tired to conceal anything. "I've never wanted anything more in my life than for you to be my wife."
Her heart began to beat in triple time. "You've wanted to marry me? You weren't acting from duty?"
"In this case, duty and inclination went together."
Wanting desperately to understand, she asked, "Then why do you look as if you've just been sentenced to be hanged?"
His lips curved in a travesty of a smile. "I'm rather good at mayhem, but I don't know much about being happy."
She realized that he was telling her the exact truth. Though Michael had a great capacity to love and be loved, he had never had the chance to truly express it If she could reach him now, begin to heal his wounded spirit, he would be hers forever.
Praying for the right words, she said slowly, "When I was full of fear, a wise man told me that my fears weren't created in an hour, and they wouldn't be healed in an hour. The same is true for damaged hearts."
She leaned forward and kissed him with aching tenderness. "Because you were wise and kind, you cured me of my fear. Let me do the same for you, Michael. Your heart was not damaged in a day, and it won't be healed in a day. But let me love you, and I promise that in time you will come to like it."
Michael made a raw sound in his throat and pulled her into his arms, holding her with rib-bruising force. "All my life, no matter how hard I tried, I was never good enough," he whispered. "It's easy to believe that will always be true. I sacrificed honor and decency for a false love. After that kind of criminal folly, does one get a second chance?"
Catherine raised her head so she could look into his eyes. "You said that the friend who betrayed you gave you a second chance at friendship," she said softly. "Your brother has given you a second chance at family. Why can't you have a second chance at love? If anyone has ever deserved it, it's you. I've never known another man with such strength and character and kindness. I fell in love with you in Brussels, even though it would have been wrong to say the words aloud."
He drew her into his arms again, feeling an intensity of emotion so great that he did not know if it was pleasure or pain. "When I first met you in Brussels, I felt as if a mountain had fallen on me," he said haltingly. "You filled my thoughts and mind from the beginning, even though I hated myself for becoming obsessed by a married woman. I took secret comfort in knowing that your blood flowed in my veins-when I yearned for you the most, I could tell myself that you were with me."
"I was," she said quietly. "In spirit, if not in body."
Closing his eyes, he simply held her for a long time. Catherine was warm and giving and offering her love. The only thing that stood between them was his inability to accept it. He opened his eyes and released her from his embrace. "Let's go to bed, Catherine. After I've slept, I might be more sane."