“Unless it involved you or the children,” Aileen said, finishing Laurel’s thought. It was common knowledge how the laird felt about his wife. When he almost lost her the previous year to a jealous and deceitful man, he became a man possessed. Even with the threat gone, Laird McTiernay was very conscious of keeping his wife safe.
“I have no doubt that Conor’s reasons have something to do with me. My husband has not left my side for more than two weeks at a time since last year. He’s afraid I will disappear while he is gone or do something worse such as visit a friend and leave the protection of this place,” Laurel grumbled, twirling her hand around before laying it back down on the armchair.
Aileen watched Laurel unconsciously drum her fingers on the wood. A clear sign Laurel was strategizing and preparing for a confrontation. “And just what is your devious mind planning now?”
Laurel smiled as an idea came to her. “Goodness, Aileen, I, devious? I would never use underhanded tricks to get my way. Not my style.”
Aileen shrugged her right shoulder as she leaned over to place her empty cup beside Laurel’s. “I stand corrected. You are more like a…aye, that’s it, like an immovable boulder when you are in the frame of mind.”
Laurel arched her eyebrows briefly in protestation. “Not flattering, but quite an apt description. But with Conor as a husband, I must be or I would find myself doing only his bidding. First, I’ll confirm my suspicions.”
“And if they are right?”
“Then I may be over here more often during the next few weeks in need of your company. Conor will have to trust that I will be fine without him here to oversee my every move, for tomorrow he will head south toward Lochlen.”
Conor made his way up the multiple stories of the Star Tower to his solar. He had seen Laurel return from Aileen’s earlier and knew she was there waiting for him. With each step, the memory of their afternoon kiss filled his mind, and he felt himself harden in anticipation. Despite the afternoon’s events, he hadn’t forgotten the promise he made earlier that day.
His insatiable need for his wife used to scare him. Now he took peace knowing she loved him as much as he loved her.
Conor walked along the stone corridor that shielded the cold winter wind from the inner chamber. The door was ajar. Laurel was sitting cross-legged in front of the firelight brushing her hair. No one in the world was lovelier. She was his heart and soul. He would never allow the possibility of anyone or anything to hurt her.
“I’m sorry, Colin, I just cannot do what you ask. Not even for you,” he whispered to himself.
Laurel gave one last vigorous stroke and then stood to put the brush on the carved bench. She saw Conor just before she turned back toward the hearth. He was leaning casually at the room’s opening, his stance calm, his arms relaxed and crossed. But he didn’t fool her.
Desire swam in his gray eyes…along with fear. If he could, Conor would keep her locked within the McTiernay Castle walls forever.
Laurel leveled her eyes at him. They were dark like a North Sea storm. When she reached for her wrap and put it on, Conor knew his plans for the night had just been placed on hold.
They were both strong-willed, and arguments were inevitable. And while their quarrels were numerous, rarely were they truly heated as long as two simple rules were followed. Laurel hid her displeasure until they were alone, and Conor promised to hear her side before exploding. A clear signal for him to prepare and control his temper was the wrapper.
Conor walked in and unhooked his belt to hang it over the never-used arch chair against the wall. He did so patiently, not saying a word. It had been a hard lesson to learn to keep quiet when Laurel was angry. And any attempt to soften her mood with sweet words made things worse, not better. And questions like “What’s wrong?” or “What did I do?” only excited her anger by many levels.
Laurel watched him unwrap his plaid, fold it, and lay the cloth beside her brush on the bench. “Dunlop seemed to be fairly prickly this evening at dinner.”
Uh-oh, Conor thought, remembering his momentary loss of control at the table. He knew then that Laurel would call him on it later, and later was now.
“Aye,” Conor replied, continuing to undress.
Laurel took in a deep breath and committed herself. “I think you should help Colin,” she stated, waiting for the explosion.
Conor scowled but did not reply.
Laurel knew instantly her assumptions had been right. The man had multiple types of scowls, ranging from irritation to frustration. Tonight, his face resembled a stone surface, utterly unbending. Conor wore it every time their argument was about her safety.
“You don’t know what he is asking, Laurel,” Conor eventually countered.
“You are correct, I don’t know. But I do know that your brother has been through much this past year after the death of his wife. I expect his marriage to Makenna Dunstan was not exactly what he wanted, but what was needed. Colin is a prideful man. He would only come to you if it was important.”
Laurel could tell her arguments had not swayed her husband in the slightest. She rallied her resolve and continued. “Colin is family, Conor, and I know how protective you are of what’s yours. I also know the reason why you are so stubbornly refusing your brother and infuriating Dunlop is because of me. And I won’t have it. I lost my family. I will not let you lose yours. Not because of your incurable need to protect me from nothing.”
Conor made a low, growling sound deep in his throat, venting his frustration. “Your brother was a fool to disown you, and you have a family now. I am your family. My brothers and the twins are your family. And my ‘incurable need’ to keep you safe, as you put it, is something you will just have to live with. For not a day goes by that I forget how close I came to losing you. And I will not ever come that close to hell again.”
Laurel gave him a challenging smile. “You are changing the topic, Conor. You will not win this battle under the guise of ‘I will not lose you.’ How is it that you can rationalize helping our neighbor, Laird Schellden, but you will not leave to aid your brother?”
Conor came to a sudden halt and rounded on her, his expression grave and serious. “If it were just me Colin sent for, there wouldn’t be a problem.”
Laurel stared, not comprehending. “What do you mean, if it were just you? Why else would Dunlop be here if it were not for you?”
Conor remained silent and looked intently into her eyes, watching them widen in surprise and trepidation. He knew the instant she understood what he had meant.
“Colin wants m…me? But why me? How can I help him?” Laurel stammered as understanding dawned on her. Conor was not afraid to leave her alone, but to take her with him.
Conor let go of her shoulders and moved to sit on the bed, burying his face in his hands. “He thinks you can help his new wife. Colin is certain you and Makenna are much alike and enjoy the same things.”
“If I remember right, he was quite vocal against some of my habits,” Laurel interjected.
“You remember right. It seems he has had to adjust his position some since his last visit.”
“I must admit I am surprised. Lady Makenna must be a remarkable woman to bring about such a change.”
“Dunlop believes Colin is in love with her.”
“But what can I do?” Laurel asked, sitting down beside him on the soft mattress.
“You were right in that Colin was not eager to marry again. Makenna was also disinclined, but agreed for the sake of her clan. Unfortunately, her people have strong feelings about a Highlander as their laird. Some are openly hostile. Colin has a plan to unite them under his rule as well as solidify alliances with neighboring lairds.”
“But that does not explain why he wants me.”
“It seems as though Colin’s new wife has had very little support and is new to managing staff. From what Dunlop tells me, Lady Makenna is more accustomed to training with men than running a keep.”