“I understand you are innocent of wrongdoing and that you are a victim in this. I will treat you kindly and with the respect due your position as a chieftain’s daughter and now a chieftain’s wife. I’ll not ever punish the daughter for the sins of the father.”
She pushed up from the chair, and to his utter shock, she balled her fist and punched him right in the nose.
He reeled back, his hand going automatically to the place she’d struck. Not that she’d hit him hard enough to do any damage or cause any real pain. He was more flabbergasted by her reaction than anything.
She stomped past him, her feet making light sounds despite the exaggerated fashion in which she was trying to display her anger.
She threw open his door and he was on his feet immediately, knowing that if she succeeded in slamming it—which she seemed very intent on doing—that it would wake the others in adjacent chambers and then everyone would be in the hall to see her stomping out of his room.
And then? All hell would break loose.
He caught it just as she released it and swept into the hall. Then he stood there a long moment, breathing heavy breaths as he watched her disappear down the dimly lit corridor.
Daft or off she may be, but she clearly didn’t like for her family to be disparaged in any manner. He smiled ruefully. He admired loyalty. He demanded it. He could hardly respect the lass if she’d sat there stoically and accepted anything ill he said of her clan.
He quietly closed the door and then turned to start undressing for bed. Then he laughed.
The lass had been a complete and utter surprise and he still had no idea what on earth to make of her.
The only thing he could be assured of was that quite possibly he’d never be sure of her or what each day would bring from this day forward.
CHAPTER 9
Graeme’s first glimpse of his bride was confusing for him. It was as if the woman he’d spent a brief period of time with the night before was someone completely different than this woman standing in the hall where they were to be married.
He paused at the doorway, watching the goings-on, but his concentration was focused on Eveline.
She was adorned in a gown finer than anything he’d seen even at court. Rich blue, intricately embroidered, and the material fell in precise layers from her waist. The top, while modest, drew attention to the lushness of her feminine curves—curves that he still felt guilt for even noticing.
Her blond hair, a beautiful splash of sunshine on a spring day in the highlands, was partially upswept, gathered in a mass atop her head, but the rest fell down to her waist in silken waves. She was beautiful, but there was something missing.
Her spark. The one he’d witnessed the night before.
She looked … like she was anywhere but where she was. She had a distant, vacant expression on her face, and nothing that went on around her seemed to register.
She looked tired and defeated and … scared.
That part he hated. It angered him and he didn’t even know why. The very last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid. It riled protective instincts that he damn sure shouldn’t have for anyone named Armstrong. But there it was. He was ready to stomp over and lay siege to whatever was causing her current mood.
He stood a little longer, watching as the activity increased in preparation for the wedding. Eveline stood quietly next to her mother, her hands gripped in front of her. As he studied her further, he realized that it wasn’t fear that had seized her. She was just … unaware.
That brought a frown to his face. Was she bespelled by good and bad days? Did she gain and lose lucidity in random pattern? Was she afflicted by an illness of the mind that caused drastic changes in behavior?
It could certainly explain the oddness of her behavior with him yesterday.
Unease settled over him as once more it was brought home that this match was in essence a death sentence. Instead of being a husband, he’d be assigned the role of a caretaker. He would protect her and make sure she was taken care of, but she would never be a wife to him.
No one would ever fault him for finding ease with another woman when he was married to someone such as Eveline. No one would even think twice, given that Eveline was certainly not capable of fulfilling her duties in that regard.
But it didn’t set well with him. It was dishonorable and it was no fault of Eveline’s that she was the way she was. He couldn’t bring himself to betray her that way. Or to dishonor them both in such a fashion.
He would be faithful to a woman he would never be intimate with, and it was one hell of a grim future to look forward to.
His gaze swept over the hall once more, and then it came back to Eveline, who still stood in the same place she’d been. So still and serene as if she were someplace else entirely.
But then her gaze shifted, met his, and her entire demeanor changed. She smiled. Light entered her eyes. Her face became alive with color and vibrancy. In just that second, she was here. In the hall. Staring back at him, her look of vacancy completely gone.
Thinking to ward off another encounter where she’d rush forward and start squashing his lips together in an effort to make him talk, he strode forward.
Eveline’s mother looked up, her eyes flaring in alarm. Her arm went immediately around Eveline, but Eveline shook her off and took a step forward, beaming at Graeme all the while.
Graeme gave a courtly bow to Lady Armstrong and then turned to Eveline just as she reached out to touch him. On the arm this time.
Just a simple touch, but in that small gesture there was so much more. She left her fingers there on his bare arm, a signal of … trust. She tilted her chin so she could look up at him, and she smiled even more, her blue eyes sparkling with what looked to be clear happiness.
Wanting to please her, he spoke, for no other reason than he didn’t want her to have to implore him to talk to her.
“You look lovely, Eveline. Surely there’s never been a more beautiful bride.”
She beamed. Positively beamed back at him.
Her mother looked stunned. Not at the compliment that Graeme had given Eveline. She was staring at her daughter, her lips parted in clear shock. Then she glanced to Graeme, confusion reflected in her gaze.
“What is between you and my daughter, Laird?” she asked in a quiet voice.
Graeme frowned and when he did, Eveline immediately turned to her mother, a frown now replacing her smile.
“My lady, I assure you that what is between your daughter and myself is marriage. Isn’t that what we’re all gathered in your great hall for? It surely isn’t to exchange pleasantries or for the Montgomerys to enjoy a visit to a neighboring clan.”
“She reacted to you,” Robina said, her lips trembling. She completely ignored the tinge of anger in Graeme’s words and the reproach as well.
Graeme’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t follow, my lady.”
Robina shook her head and brought her hand up to her temple to rub it. It was then that Graeme really saw the exhaustion in her face and eyes. As if she hadn’t slept in many days. He found himself pitying her when it was the very last thing he wanted to feel. Sympathy for the enemy. It went against his very soul.
Robina’s other hand went up and fluttered as if she were at a loss as to how to explain. “Eveline isn’t aware most times. She’s happy enough. She’s sweet. She’s good. But she rarely pays any attention to what goes on around her. I’m not even sure she has any understanding most of the time. But she responded to your compliment. Just as any normal woman would.”
“And this isn’t normal behavior for her?” Graeme asked.
He knew damn well that Eveline understood what he said when he conversed with her. There was no mistaking that, and it was why he wanted to be careful now. Her mother didn’t seem to worry overmuch about discussing her daughter’s condition freely in front of Eveline. Graeme didn’t want her hurt by the conversation. Was this the way her entire family treated her? Like a mindless idiot?
“Come away with me for a moment, my lady,” Graeme said, offering his arm to Robina in a courtly gesture.
Eveline frowned even harder and glanced up at Graeme, hurt in her eyes.
“I’ll return in a moment, Eveline,” Graeme said. “I would like a moment with your mother to assure her that you are in good hands. It will ease her mind on your wedding day.”
Eveline’s expression softened and she glanced at her mother, clear love in her eyes.
“Come,” Graeme said again, before Robina could speak again in her daughter’s presence.
Robina went away almost blindly, her mouth still drawn in shock. When they were at a distance where Graeme thought they could talk without hurting Eveline, he stopped and stared down at Robina.
“I admit to some confusion, my lady. Eveline has responded to me. I would even go as far as to say we’ve had discourse, though of course she doesn’t speak to me. But that certainly hasn’t prevented her from letting me know in no uncertain terms what it is she wants and moreover what kind of information she wants.”
Robina openly gaped at him, her reaction too raw to possibly be feigned.
“You act as though this isn’t normal,” Graeme said with a frown.
“Not normal? Laird, what is normal for Eveline is to be the sweet, gentle soul she is. She does respond, yes, but to family. Never to strangers. I know not if there are simply times when she does not understand or if she’s just more oblivious on some occasions than at others. Most of the time she does what she likes and we’ve been quite content to allow it because we want her to be happy.”
The fierceness in Robina’s voice registered with Graeme. How much this woman loved her daughter and how much it hurt her that Eveline wasn’t a normal girl looking forward to a normal future.
Again he found himself softening. Toward an Armstrong. If he didn’t leave the cursed Armstrong holding soon, he’d be sympathizing with the lot of them.
“All I can tell you,” he said carefully, “is that while we haven’t conversed in a normal fashion, we have most certainly communicated. Moreover, she is absolutely aware of what’s taking place today and she’s unafraid.”
“How do you know this?” Robina demanded. “She doesn’t speak. How could you possibly know what she is thinking?”
Graeme shrugged. “We communicated. You’re asking me to explain something I do not understand myself, my lady. But I feel that the more time I spend with Eveline, the more I will come to understand her vision of the world around her and just how much and what she comprehends.”
Robina glanced to her daughter and then back to Graeme, clear uncertainty in her eyes. “Be kind to her. She seems taken with you, Laird.”
Then without a by-your-leave or even a hasty pardon, she left Graeme’s side and hurried over to her daughter.
Robina spoke in earnest and a moment later, Eveline’s gaze shifted over her mother’s shoulder and found Graeme. And she smiled. It was all she did, but what an extraordinary smile that lit up the entire room. It took his breath away and made his chest tighten to the point of discomfort.
Then her mother drew her into a tight hug and Eveline disappeared from view. Just as well, because at that moment, a hand slapped down on his shoulder and he turned to see Bowen and Teague standing just behind him.
“How much longer do we have to stand this?” Teague demanded. “The men are getting restless. We won’t be able to keep the peace much longer. It’s like asking a starving wolf to sit and watch you skin a stag without attacking and devouring it whole.”
“As soon as her father and the earl make their appearance, the ceremony will take place, and then we’ll take our leave,” Graeme said.
Bowen frowned. “What make you of this whole thing with the earl, Graeme? I do not like how much time Armstrong has spent with Dunbar. It makes me uneasy. Dunbar has the ear of the king. He’s Alexander’s favored earl. And let’s face it, the Montgomerys are getting the worst of it in this so-called truce.”
Graeme frowned. “Nay, ’tis not so. We’re giving nothing up while the Armstrongs are giving their daughter to their sworn enemy. It could be said that we have more favor with the king.”
Teague’s jaw dropped open. “Not giving up anything? Graeme, you won’t have heirs. You won’t have … anything. The lass is useless.”
Graeme turned, his expression fierce as he faced down his brother. “She’s not useless. Do not say such again in my presence. Or anywhere else.”
Teague’s eyebrows shot upward, but he fell into silence.
“He could have ordered the marriage of Rorie to one of them,” Graeme pointed out in a softer voice. “It would have been logical. Daughter for daughter. Armstrong has two sons of marriageable age and neither are spoken for.”
“Over my dead body,” Bowen snarled. “Rorie is but a child.”
Graeme fixed him with his stare. “And Eveline is less of a child? In a lot of ways, Rorie would be a more competent wife than Eveline herself. Rorie’s young, but she’s hale and hearty and she’ll bear a man children. She’s of marriageable age. You and I know she’s not ready for a husband. But the king doesn’t. He could have very well taken her from us and there would have been naught to do unless we wanted to wage war against the crown.”
Teague swallowed, his jaw drawn into a hard line. He was infuriated by the mere idea.
“Now imagine how they are feeling,” Graeme said in a low voice. “Imagine how we would feel if we were even now preparing to watch Rorie wed an Armstrong.”
“You’re becoming soft,” Teague hissed. “You cannot sympathize with these bastards. They are not deserving of our regard or sympathy.”