"Why were you weeping?"
"I was thinking about my family."
"I'm your family now."
The gruffness in his voice actually comforted her, and she knew she had to be exhausted to have such a strange reaction. She hadn't wanted to tell him her worry, but heaven help her, the way he stared at her made her want to blurt out every little concern she had.
"I disappointed you," she whispered.
"No."
"No?"
"You didn't disappoint me."
She waited for him to explain. He didn't say another word, which really shouldn't have surprised her, as she already had noticed he wasn't one to embellish any of his remarks. The flaw obviously extended to compliments as well. She was feeling inordinately pleased with herself now, and all because she hadn't disappointed him.
Oh, yes, she was weary tonight. It had been a long, difficult day, after all, and that was why she was being so emotional.
He carried her back to his blankets and set her on her feet again. When she tried to turn away from him, he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her long and hard.
Her knees went weak, and when he let go of her she gracefully collapsed to the bed.
She regained her strength a minute later. After he'd stretched out on the blankets, she tried to kneel over him. He was having none of that. He pulled her down beside him, forced her back up against his chest, and wrapped his arms around her.
He wasn't about to let go of her. He knew she hadn't forgotten his promise to tell her exactly why he'd married her, and he wasn't at all certain how she would react to hearing a few of his reasons. He didn't want to have to get up and chase after her again. Women, he had learned, could be peculiar about matters that really shouldn't concern them. They tended to get their feelings injured quite easily; at least Alex's wife, Jamie, did. Brenna seemed to be even more emotional. Not only did she appear to get her feelings injured, she also insisted on telling Connor about it. The fact that she'd told him she believed she'd disappointed him was proof enough.
He was astounded she'd needed his reassurance. She hadn't tried to hide her vulnerability at all.
Yes, she astounded him all right, and pleased him more than he could ever have thought possible.
"Connor, you were going to tell me…"
"I wanted sons."
"And daughters," she reminded him.
"And daughters," he agreed. "I told you my reason earlier."
She tried to turn so she could look at him, but he tightened his hold on her, making movement impossible.
She gave up trying. She rested the side of her face on his upper arm, smiling because it felt so hard and warm against her cheek, then yawned loudly.
"But why did you marry me? You could have married any woman from the Highlands."
"You asked me."
"Please don't use that excuse. We both know you would never have held a child to her word."
"No, I wouldn't."
"Do you remember any of it? Surely you…"
He remembered every detail of the meeting with her father, of course. "Are you going to keep me awake all night?" he asked, irritably.
"No, of course not. I didn't mean to stray from the topic. I'm concerned your reason for marrying me has something to do with my father. Is that true?"
"No," he answered. "My feud is with MacNare. He went after Quinlan's family. He burned their home, destroyed their crops, and killed their stock. He wanted their land to add to his own. I had only just heard about this atrocity when another one of my followers came to me with a similar outrage to report."
"And because your men are loyal to you, you went to war on their behalf."
"Yes."
"There had to be another reason as well, for surely others have come to you in the past with stories of mistreatment, If you married each time, you'd have ten wives by now."
"I have another reason, but I don't wish to discuss it now."
"Someday will you explain?"
"Yes."
"All right then. Will you explain what our marriage has to do with your war?"
"It's simple, Brenna. MacNare wanted you."
"And so you took me away from him. Why didn't you just kill me?"
"I don't kill women."
"I didn't mean to insult you. You tell me you don't kill women, but you have no concerns about using them, do you?"
"When it's necessary."
"Why didn't you simply continue to war against him? Were your losses too substantial?"
"If a Highlander has vengeance in his heart, no loss is substantial. I was fortunate though. There were injuries, but none of my own died. My brother ordered me to end the feud. Alec has become what some would call a mediator in our land, and he has the power behind him to force others to do what he considers just. Marrying you was my last…"
"Insult?"
"It is, only if you choose to think it is."
"What would you consider an insult then?"
"Destroying a man's crops, killing good horses. Those are insults. Killing a soldier is a much more grievous matter. I think perhaps you place too much value on marriage. You think like a woman."
"I would never have gone to such lengths."
"I'm my father's son. I am also a practical man."
He had told her the truth, God help her for asking him to, and she suddenly felt like weeping again.
She tried to be practical about it all and told herself it could have been worse. She couldn't imagine how, of course. She didn't like being used. No woman did. She didn't think he would understand how she felt, though.
"In future, I win learn now to become practical," she whispered. Her voice shook, and she didn't say another word for a long while because she knew she would start crying. She thought she'd rather die than let him know the damage he'd done to her hopes and dreams. She wasn't going to let him hurt her again, and if being practical meant she must give up her feelings and her heart, then she would be more practical than he was.
It didn't take her long to realize how foolish she was being. She didn't want to live without love, and that meant she was going to have to make Connor change his attitude, and how would she ever be able to do that?
The task was disheartening and seemed to be as impossible as making it rain on a sunny day. She squeezed her eyes shut as soon as she realized how teary she was becoming and tried to concentrate on her night prayers in hopes the ritual would occupy her thoughts.
Connor sought to close his mind against the hurt he'd just caused her so that ridiculous thoughts of guilt wouldn't bother him. It wasn't until he'd told her a fragment of the full truth that he realized how cold it made him sound to a woman as emotional as Brenna. She couldn't possibly understand, and he wasn't about to explain further.
His hatred for MacNare was burning him hollow inside, and though he still hadn't found any evidence to make him culpable in Donald MacAlister's death, Connor still wanted to believe what his father had suspected, that MacNare and MacNare's father, along with their relatives, had been involved in the planning of the attack on his home. He was determined to find the proof before he killed all those he suspected of participating in the slaughter, even if it took him long years to find the truth. Until then, he would have to be content with insignificant attacks meant solely to keep them enraged.
Alec was making his duty more difficult, of course. His brother knew what Donald MacAlister had said before he died, and Alec had also tried to find proof of MacNare's treachery. When he could find nothing, he decided that the suspicion was groundless. Now he wanted the strikes against the MacNare clan to stop. Connor knew he would have to accommodate his brother, but only for a while, until Alec became reasonable again. Gaining revenge wouldn't be forgotten, and Connor's hatred wouldn't lessen, but intensify. He was, after all, his father's son.