The Highlander's Destiny (Highland Rogues #2) - Mary Wine Page 0,67

tilted their heads to one side as they listened.

Faolan gritted his teeth. Frustration bit into him.

No, it was disappointment.

Yet, there was something else, too. A need to be protective. If Cora was sleeping, then he’d not be waking her. It wasn’t his blood that had been spilled, after all.

Yestin reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Faolan nodded, but he ventured into the archway that opened into the back room where the women were.

Una gasped when she saw him. “Evening, Laird.”

The other two women dropped him a quick courtesy before they all but ran from the room.

“I’m sorry if we disturbed yer dinner.”

“I’m more interested in yer conversation.”

Una’s hand flew up to cover her mouth. “We didn’t mean any harm. It’s just women talking about female things.”

Faolan stepped further into the workroom. He looked about to ensure they were alone. “Me mother is long dead, and I have no close female relatives. So…what I’m wondering is…how long…should I leave me wife be?”

Una drew in a deep breath.

“Forgive me, but I do nae know who else to ask, and I’d not see me wife suffering.”

He felt like a babbling fool, but the need to shelter Cora from pain was greater than his embarrassment.

“I see.” Una appeared to be trying to gather her composure.

“I’d be grateful for yer opinion on the matter….” Faolan made a motion with his hand. “Ye are?”

“Una, Laird.”

“Una,” Faolan said. “Ye are old enough to know me own mother was put out when I was fifteen. She never discussed marriage with me.”

“Yes, I remember,” she said. “As to the matter of yer wife, I suggest ye allow her to rest a bit.”

“How long is a bit?” Faolan insisted on details.

“A few weeks.”

Faolan clamped his jaw down to contain the words which wanted to roll off his tongue. Curses were not appropriate for the kitchens.

“Thank ye, Una.”

“Um…ye may bring any other questions ye have on matters…to me.”

Faolan had started to turn around. He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Ye have me appreciation.”

Even if he had no liking for what Una had said.

Well laddie, ye have heard things ye did no’ like before…

Such was true, and he was man enough to demand he not sulk over the matter like a child. It was just a delay. Cora wouldn’t tell him herself. No, she was too proud of her strength. So, he’d have to protect her.

That’s what a husband does…

Aye, it was. Faolan took solace in that knowledge. Yestin and Gainor were still in the kitchen when he returned. The scent of cheese and meat drew a rumble from Faolan’s belly.

At least that was a hunger he might feed. In the distance, thunder began to rumble.

“At least the storm did no’ break until we made it back,” Yestin remarked.

“Aye,” Gainor agreed. “It will be a chilly night to be sure.”

Very chilly.

But Faolan didn’t trust himself to share a bed with Cora and leave her untouched. He would have hoped he had the restraint, but the truth was, he doubted himself.

Another round of thunder filled the air.

Faolan grinned as he sat down on a stool to enjoy the meal. The air was growing colder, and he could hear the wind whipping the tree limbs.

A storm he understood.

It was a place he’d tested his mettle and built his strength.

In many ways, it was his truest home.

Tonight, he’d enjoy letting his inner beast free. It wasn’t what he’d planned on, but there was a satisfaction in knowing he had the strength to leave Cora sleeping. What he didn’t look too closely at was the memory of all the times he’d heard the whispers about himself.

He knew what was said about him.

Bastard born.

Tainted by his mother’s lack of self-control.

A man with the blood of the laird flowing through his veins, and yet, there was part of him that was considered less than worthy.

He was laird because the alternative was blood being spilled. It was sobering knowledge—the sort which might so very easily turn into doubts.

Well, it’s not the first time ye’ve had to rely on yerself, laddie…

No, it wasn’t.

Faolan climbed up to the top of the tower where his chamber was. It wasn’t the grandest chamber in the stronghold, but he had no taste for laying his head where Malcolm had slept.

Instead, he had a clear view of the gate and the road leading up to it.

And he could see where Cora slept.

There would be fresh linens on the bed, but he didn’t stop at the landing outside the doors of his chamber. For