Even through the little time I’d spent with him, I knew he wouldn’t make an idle threat. I reached out and snatched the blanket, wrapping it around myself as I stepped out of the large basin.
Silently I walked closer to the fire, sitting as close to the flames as I could on the stone floor. Keeping my hands, arms, and legs inside the blanket, I hugged myself, enjoying the feeling of hiding every part except my head underneath the blanket. It helped conceal the fact that my legs were shaking. I was so nervous for whatever he was going to say, I felt like I could vomit. Thankfully, he didn’t force me to wait too long before he spoke.
“Blaire. I canna pretend that I’m no any less angry at ye than I was before. I know that Arran puts the blame on himself, but from what I saw, ye are guilty as well. I know I must allow ye to live in the castle and act as me wife on certain occasions, but as far as I’m concerned, our marriage is invalid. I’ll no be unkind to ye, but I’ll no treat ye as I would a loving companion either.”
He paused, obviously waiting for a response, which I didn’t have. After waiting a few moments, he gave up and continued.
“No one outside of the castle will know the truth about our marriage, but we will live for the most part separately, only joining when it is time to produce an heir. Regardless, ye are never to be alone with Arran again. And we will be spending quite a lot of time together for the sake of appearances, aye? It is my hope that we can both learn to live in peace with one another.”
He stared intently, his dark eyes blacker than usual, as he awaited my response. I was so filled with relief at learning that I would be staying in a separate room and living separately that I was unsure of what to say. As far as producing an heir, I had no intention of hanging around long enough for that to be an issue.
I could tell he was still furious and it was all he could do to speak to me politely. If I showed him just how glad I was to hear every word he’d just said, I knew it might crack his calm fa?ade. Remorse was the best way to soothe a man’s wounded ego.
“I am sorry for what happened, Eoin. I have no good explanation. I understand the reasons for yer requests and, aye, I accept them. Ye have my word that I will no make the same mistake again. Thank ye for not leaving me in that prison.” I tried to look as apologetic as I could. I truly was sorry for upsetting him, but I knew the situation was really caused by someone other than myself.
Eoin’s eyes softened at my words and he walked toward me, gently placing a hand on the top of my head. “Aye. I know ye are, lass. I’m sorry that it must be this way, too. I’ll leave ye to rest now. We all gather for breakfast in the grand dining hall every morning. Ye will be expected at my side.”
I glanced up at him, and he jerked his hand away, his eyes hardening as he turned and left, leaving me alone in the room once more.
Chapter 15
“Doona worry so much, dearie. Ye’ve done fine so far, and it’s unlikely that Eoin would press ye with such a question, but it’s important that ye know it if ye are here long enough to have to meet Blaire’s father. Now, which ear is it that he canna hear from?”
“It’s his left ear. He was born that way and can’t hear anything unless you speak loudly or into his right ear.”
“Yes, dear. So doona be alarmed if he screams at ye. It’s only that he canna know how loud he can sometimes be.”
I watched as Mary laughed, her entire belly moving with each chuckle, causing me to smile in return.
It had been two weeks since I’d been released from the dungeon and, while the first few days after my imprisonment found me under Eoin’s constant watch, Mary quickly picked up on the problem and suggested that I ask Eoin if I could spend my afternoons with her so that she could teach me how to cook. While it was highly unusual for the laird’s wife to spend her time in the kitchen, I knew he was tired of babysitting me, and he consented easily. Since then, I’d spent a large portion of every day either training with Mary so that I could learn family history and cultural customs, or digging through the mountains of books in Morna’s spell room.
While I was enjoying my lessons with Mary immensely, the search to find a spell that would get me home was an entirely different story. The small room was crowded with books, journals, records, most of which had absolutely nothing to do with spells. Morna’s records and diaries I could read, but the majority of her spell books were in Gaelic, which I did not know. I was slowly having to search through everything written in English first, all while sorting through the things in Gaelic that looked relevant and setting them aside to deal with later.
I was busy thinking of my game plan for the next few hours, which I would spend sifting through the rooms’ contents, when Mary stopped chuckling and spoke once more.