Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,118

such as a Stuart or a McKenzie, would ye trust me then?”

It would have been much easier if ye had been.

“’Tis what I thought,” she said when her question was met with silence.

Holding out her hand for Marisse to take, she said, “I have never given ye any reason nae to trust me, Richard. Nae reason at all. This is somethin’ ye will have to sort out for yerself. I cannae do it for ye.”

Richard watched in humiliated silence as his wife disappeared up the stairs.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Richard knew they were at a crossroads and he had but two choices. Cower in his study, drink himself to the point of stupidity, and break his wife’s heart. Or, swallow his pride, muster courage, and go after her.

A strong breeze battered against the keep, stirring up a draft that raked across his skin. It picked up in intensity, sending bits of dust swirling like a whirlpool across the stone floor. ’Twas ominous and forbidding, chilling him to his marrow. He could have sworn he heard his mother’s laughter ricocheting off the walls. Demeaning and condemning in death as she had been in life. His skin turned to gooseflesh as painful memories assaulted his heart.

Just why he thought of her or why it affected him thusly, he didn’t know. But he felt something dark pressing down against his soul making it difficult to breathe. A moment later, it felt as though his heart was being squeezed by an unseen force.

He felt her then, his mother; felt her presence surrounding him as surely as if she had just walked up and hugged him. Only she would never have done such a thing as to embrace him.

He rarely thought of her, but here she was, her spirit real or imagined. Taunting, belittling … ye will never be the man yer father is. Ye will never be the man Cullom is.

Chills traced down his spine so much so he felt as though he’d just fallen naked into a snow drift. It shook him far more than it should have.

He had to remind himself he didn’t believe in spirits any more than he believed in witches or banshees.

Still, the sound propelled him forward, and he soon found himself taking the stairs two at a time. Moments later, he was racing down the hallway after his very angry wife.

Richard caught her before she could pull the door closed. Taking her by her arm, ignoring her protests, he pulled her into their bedchamber.

“What on earth are ye doing?” she demanded as she yanked her arm from his tight grip.

“We are nae done talking.” He closed the door and barred it.

She lifted her chin defiantly and quirked a pretty brow. Aye, she was angry, but he also saw a flash of hurt behind those beautiful blue eyes. Hurt caused by his own stubbornness. “I am sorry.” Those were words he should have given her days - nay weeks ago.

Anger turned to disbelief, knitting her brow. “What?” she whispered softly.

He raked a hand through his hair. Apologizing wasn’t something he did with any sort of regularity. ’Twas as rare as a blood moon. “I am sorry, lass.”

Tilting her head she asked, as yet unwilling to forgive and forget. “What, pray tell, are ye sorry for?”

‘Twasn’t a challenge but an honest request.

“I have been ten kinds an arse and fifty kinds a fool,” he said. Filled with regret for his blatant mistreatment of her, he fought to find the right words. ‘Twasn’t easy admitting he was wrong about her; about everything.

Her features softened ever so slightly, the anger fading slowly.

They were quiet for a long while before she spoke. “Richard, I-” she paused, took a deep breath, and started over. “I want - nay need —us to be completely honest with each other. I do nae want to live my life worrying that something I might say or do will bring ye upset or induce yer ire. I do nae wish to live my married life as my mother did. Afraid to say or do the wrong thing for fear of my father’s reprisal.”

Was she truly comparing him to her father? “I am nothing like him, Aeschene.” He was grinding his teeth so hard it made his jaw ache.

“I ken that, Richard. Yet, I am still fearful, but for different reasons.”

Furrowing his brow, he asked for clarification.

She let out a heavy breath. “I ken ye are a good, decent man, Richard. But ye are also distant and closed off. Ye will nae allow