The Conalls were too confident, too powerful, and too trusting for their own good. Those reasons alone would have been enough to make her hate them, but their defeat of her father had chained her to him. Until she was released from his hold, she would never be able to find the happiness she knew she would find with Tormod.
Arran had already retired for the evening in her father’s old room. While he’d given her permission to spend the night elsewhere, Edana knew it was best not to put off the inevitable. The marriage had to be consummated, considered invalid otherwise. She knew the servants of this castle well enough to know that they would speak if she did not visit her husband’s room.
She couldn’t allow questions to arise about the marriage. She needed to do as Tormod had bid her, to spend time with Arran and find a weakness which they could exploit to his demise.
Edana paced back and forth, pausing in front of Arran’s door with each passing. She was certain what must follow would be the worst moments of her life. Thinking of it brought back flashes of horror she did her best to push away. This would be different than the times before. She was older. No longer a child. And she was now choosing this of her own free will.
Tormod had yet to touch her beyond a swift kiss during their stolen moments together. Still, she knew the scars of her past would have caused her to be just as frightened as she was now if it were he she must bed rather than a man she didn’t love.
She could only hope Arran wouldn’t notice the lack of blood. It could mean the end of their marriage if he did. For many men it would, but she suspected Arran would be different. Just another reason he could be easily defeated. He was caring and kind, and that made him weak.
Gathering her courage, she glanced at her reflection in a piece of armory hanging on the wall. Pushing her hair out of her face, she pinched her cheeks to bring up a blush. Before she could change her mind, Edana knocked on her husband’s door.
*
The dark castle lacked access to sunlight, unlike his old home that was filled with such great light. Not only the structure itself made his new home dark, but the scarred remnants of Ramsay’s legacy was etched deep into every piece of furniture and tapestry. Arran wouldn’t allow it to stay that way for long.
He planned to turn the castle into a place of joy, a place their children would enjoy for many, many years. A place where his new clansmen could rest assured that they were now represented by a fair and just leader rather than the abomination who’d ruled over them before.
He’d been away in the bedchamber for hours composing a letter to send to his brother, hoping to provide him with more explanation on his surprising choices as of late. He had just finished and was preparing to retire when he heard a soft knock on the door.
Glancing down at himself, a new habit he’d formed thanks to Mary, and finding himself decently clothed, he went to open the door.
Edana stood before him, draped in her nightgown, hair down and pushed back behind her ears. She held a candle which shook lightly in her hands, a sure sign of her nerves, and Arran knew instantly why she’d come to him.
He invited her in, but his insides twisted. He was sure his former self, the Arran before Blaire, would think him mad, but he still found himself rather uneager to bed his new wife.
Despite his misgivings, it would be impossible for him to deny her. He knew what courage it took for her to come to him, and it was an act that must be performed. It was the only way to secure his place as laird, to legitimize their marriage, and he knew that Edana was offering him a kindness by recognizing that fact and offering herself to him without his bidding.
But there was no need to hurry into the act right away. He suspected that she would be much like a frightened animal. If he wished her not to bolt, he would need to take his time and move gently.
He moved to a table near his doorway and poured her some wine, extending it in her direction as he moved to stand away from her, leaning his back against the wall.
“How are ye this evening, Edana? I am surprised to find ye here so late. Is there something the matter?” He needed to be certain he was right about her reasons for coming to his room.
She downed the wine quickly, and Arran couldn’t keep his eyes from widening in surprise.
“All is fine with me room. ’Tis the same as it has always been.”
She extended the cup back to him, and he quickly refilled it before resuming his place against the wall. “Ye know that ye are welcome in here, Edana, but might I ask? Is there a particular reason for yer visit?”
She sat her wine down and moved toward him. He tensed all over, unsure of how to proceed. She leaned into him, gently kissing him on the cheek and whispered softly as she lingered near his mouth. “I think ye know, Arran. I’m no longer afraid of ye.”