Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,107

nor stronger woman ever graced the earth. What she would not give to have just a few moments with her again to seek her counsel and good advice.

Carefully, she made her way to the window seat. The fur was pulled away allowing sunshine to spill into the room. Curling her legs under, she let the cool afternoon breeze wash over her as she thought back to the argument she’d had with Richard. She fought hard to find answers as well as solutions.

She heard the sound of the door opening and a moment later, Marisse’s voice. “May I come in?”

Guilt filled Aeschene’s heart. Quickly, she slid down from the seat and held her arms open as her tears returned. “Marisse, I am so very sorry for yellin’ at ye.”

Marisse, never one to hold a grudge for long, quickly accepted the apology and warm embrace. “Do not fash over it,” she said and she hugged her tightly. “If I were married to Richard MacCullough, I would want to yell all the time.”

Marisse’s attempt at levity did make Aeschene feel better, but only slightly.

“Now,” Marisse said as she helped Aeschene to sit in front of the fire. “What are we goin’ to do about that husband of yers?”

Hurt and humiliated ’twas difficult for Aeschene to talk about. But if anyone could help her find a solution, ’twas Marisse.

Marisse listened patiently, offering soothing words of comfort wherever possible. While she still believed Richard cared for Aeschene, she also believed he was too stubborn to admit it. Her opinions, she kept to herself for she understood her friend simply needed to cry it all out. Besides, she was too upset just yet to reason with.

“He does not trust me,” Aeschene said with a sniffle. “I simply do not ken what more I can do to prove to him he can.”

Marisse had no kind reply. Richard had been behaving like an idiot for the past week or so, especially where it pertained to his wife. His wife who was now laying on a bed crying her eyes out.

“All good marriages start out with a few rough bumps,” Marisse told her. “This is yer’s.”

“But how can we press forward if he does not trust me? How can we move beyond all of this?”

Again, she had no answers. “I do not ken. But I am certain Richard will eventually come around.”

“When?” Aeschene cried. “He is so stubborn, I could have given him ten children before he realizes I am his ally and not his enemy.”

There was probably more truth to that statement than either of them wanted to admit. Still, Marisse was positive that they could do something to nudge Richard to the conclusion Aeschene so desperately wanted him to arrive at.

“Move out of his chamber and back into mine,” Marisse told her. ’Twas mayhap not the most ethical of choices a woman could make, but these were desperate times. She couldn’t stand watching her friend cry.

Aeschene sat up, wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “Move out?”

Marisse patted her hand and smiled. “Mayhap after a few nights of not bein’ able to do the only thing he seems to enjoy doin’ with ye, he might come to his senses.”

“Refuse to do my wifely duty?” she asked incredulously.

“Och! Did ye ever stop to think he has a few duties of his own?”

Aeschene thought on it for a long while. Joining with Richard wasn’t a duty, ’twas a downright pleasure. ’Twas the only time of the day where she felt he was truly hers, that he truly cared. But there had to be more to their marriage than just the physical pleasures they found in their marital bed.

She worried it was an underhanded thing to do, but she was desperate. “Verra well,” she said as she wiped away more tears. “I only hope ye are right.”

Richard had spent most of his day digging in the quarry. He had hoped some hard physical labor would make him feel better. Instead, it simply intensified his hangover. It was also next to impossible to focus on breaking stones needed for the wall, for his mind was on his wife.

There had been no doubt in his mind he had hurt her. As the day wore on he came to the realization that it wasn’t Aeschene he didn’t trust, but himself. He cared for her more than he wanted to. But every time he thought about going to her and wrapping her in his arms and begging her forgiveness, the image of