He told himself it was not love that had caused his heart to thump wildly at seeing her so close to potential death. “You’re my wife. I take care of what belongs to me.”
Makenna tried twice more to discover the root of his anger, but Colin refused to speak again. Instead, he rode directly into the inner ward, slid off his black, and then proceeded to carry her up and into her personal room within Forfar Tower. Once there, he let her go and without any explanation for his mood or action, he moved to leave.
She felt empty, angry, and cold.
Her first day of relaxation in months was turning into the worst day of her marriage.
Makenna ran to block the doorway. “Oh, no, you don’t. Do not think for one moment that you can deposit me in my old chambers as if I were a child and then leave. I have done nothing that warrants this treatment.”
“Nothing? You call nearly killing yourself riding arms wide open at a full gallop nothing?”
Makenna listened in bewilderment. “This was all because of how I was riding? You will have to do better than that, Colin McTiernay.”
Colin caught Makenna by the shoulders, forcing her to look up and face him. “Do you want me to do better? Then how about this? You are never to ride in any fashion I would deem unsafe, and that includes dashing about the countryside as fast you can ride. It is dangerous, and I won’t allow it. I’m considering switching your mount with one that is older and unable to move at such speeds just to ensure that my orders are followed. And another matter, I don’t want you sparring with the men again, and that includes Gorten. I’m not sure I even want you carrying around your sword.”
Makenna crossed her arms. The man was indeed crazed if he truly thought she would agree to any of his nonsense. She didn’t care what reasons spawned this dramatic change in attitude, but Colin was just going to have to get over them. “No.”
Her simple, but emphatic reply startled him. He let go of her shoulders and stalked across the room. “You cannot say no. I am the laird of this clan and its people and that includes you,” Colin stated, using his most authoritative voice.
Makenna was unmoved. “Aye, you are laird, but I will bow to no man’s unjust request, laird or not, husband or not.”
Colin had been in countless rows with Makenna, but never had he heard icy brittleness in her voice before. “Unjust? I have every right to protect what is mine from harm. Had it ever occurred to you that you might fall? Or what would happen if you were not quick enough when sparring and was speared by my man’s sword?”
Makenna boldly met his gaze. “Do you think I have never been injured? Colin, surely you jest! I have both fallen and have been cut a great many times. You have seen my body. It is riddled with scars as reminders to each mistake. I have no doubt that I will fall and be hurt again, but that is no reason for me to give up the things I love. What you ask is impossible. Even for you, I will not stop being who I am.”
Colin grabbed the stone-carved mantel above the unlit hearth and took a firm grip on his resolve. He had to stay calm and rational if he was going to win this war. “If not for me, then do it for the sake of our child.”
Makenna frowned. “Our child? Colin, again you make no sense.”
“Makenna,” he began, “you understand how babies are made.”
She tossed her hair behind her shoulders and went to sit down. “Don’t be silly. I know as well as you. And I also know that we have not been married long enough for me to be with child. Why, we married only three months ago.”
“Aye, three months in which practically every night you sleep in my arms.”
Makenna’s hand went to her stomach. She had felt no differently in the mornings, but not all women reacted badly in their first months of the babe’s growth. Could she be? Her monthlies were inconsistent, and she never paid much heed to when they came.
She calmed her racing thoughts. She was not pregnant. It would be impossible. “So? You were married to my sister for over a year, and she never conceived.”
Colin snorted. “Makenna, couples usually have to make love more than a handful of times to conceive. You and I are together more in one night than Deirdre allowed in six months.”
“But you…and she…I thought…” The halting words stumbled and disappeared without completion.
Colin sighed and raked his hair. He turned and moved by the window and looked down to the inner ward. “Deirdre didn’t…enjoy the physical part of our marriage. She tried a few times. Maybe she was too frail. I loved her and wanted to protect her, not hurt her.”
It explained so much of her sister, and her strange decisions, the reasons behind which she never divulged. “Is that why she kept her old room?” Makenna asked, her voice full of hesitation.
“Aye. Deirdre stepped in my bedroom only once when we were married. Maybe out of guilt, maybe out of fear. After our last coupling, I decided to wait and let her come to me when she was ready. She never came.”
Makenna blinked and then stared down at her hands in her lap. So, just as Deirdre had not been the model lady of the castle, she had not been the ideal wife. Still, Colin had loved her. He even freely admitted it just now. Words he had never spoken to Makenna. Until now, the pain of their absence had been manageable.
If Deirdre had not been the ideal wife or the ideal lady, why had Colin loved her so? The only answer that made any sense was her grace, how she made those around her feel, but most of all her delicate beauty unmarred by masculine hobbies. All qualities Makenna would never possess.
Makenna could feel her fingers being pulled into his strong hands. She glanced up and saw Colin squatting in front of her, his blue eyes large and compelling. “Now do you understand? Do you believe that you could be carrying our child? Do you understand that I cannot have another life taken from me? I will do anything and everything to protect you and our child from harm, including taking away those things that you love.”
Colin stood and sank into a chair next to hers. He stared at the cold ashes. “It is not pleasant to speak of such things. I will do so only this once. I loved Deirdre…I loved her very much,” he began softly. “But our marriage was different from the one you and I share. Maybe it would have grown better, if she had not been taken from me. I will never know.” Colin paused.
Makenna could feel her heart pounding. She wanted to scream and tell him it was too painful hearing about his love for her sister. It was cruel for him to speak with such reverence about his late wife. Instead, she sat in pained silence, listening.
Colin squeezed his eyes shut. Remembering. “I used to wish that I had died with her that night.”
“You don’t anymore?” Makenna asked, her voice barely capable of being heard.
“No.”
Makenna waited for him to continue, to give her some verbal balm for her heart. That he was glad to be alive, because of her, of what they shared…something. Instead, he briefly gave her an artificial smile and then looked away again.
“I know giving up some of the things you love will be hard, but just to be fair, I want to give you something as well. I have not been pleased with the amount of work you’ve been doing while managing the keep. Your load is too much. I want you to have Gannon assign your duties to someone else. Now, won’t this make you happy?”
Makenna nodded stiffly. She would curb her sparring and riding, but she would not inflict more work on the few people she had supporting Lochlen. But, rather than argue, she whispered, “I understand, Colin.” Much more than I want to, she added only to herself.
Colin pulled her into a tender embrace. Makenna complied but felt oddly separated from herself. The piece of her heart that enabled her to feel completely free and safe with Colin, the piece that gave her hope that someday he would feel for her some of what she felt for him, had died. She felt like running away and crying.