A Scot to Wed (Scottish Hearts 2) - Page 54

Satisfied that she’d done as she was told, he nodded and poured himself a glass of ale. “Today being Thursday, I’m planning on leaving Saturday. So be sure to get everything finished so there’s no delay.”

Before Katie could respond, Alasdair sat alongside him and began to speak. The serving girls arrived in the Great Hall with platters of vegetables, roasted game, haggis, baked apples, and oatcakes. Evan piled his plate, ravenous from the day’s work. He rarely ate anything between breaking his fast and supper, so it was always a big meal for him.

The Stirlings and MacDuffs who ate in the Great Hall with the family had begun to mingle quite well together. Evan was satisfied that all would be well when they departed. Ian MacDuff would take care of things, Evan would receive his monthly reports, and he could concentrate on his own clan.

“Ye better make some inquiries to find another healer. Poor old Mrs. MacCabe was counting on ye to help her out.” Evan poured another glass of ale from the pitcher and studied Katie.

She stared for a few moments, her eyes snapping. “I have taken care of that already, my laird.” She turned to Meggie, giving him her back.

Her tone and expression gave him pause. Had Alasdair been correct and there was something troubling her? He smiled, thinking that since this appetite had eased, ’twas time to turn his attention to another appetite. Whatever the problem troubling his wife, a hardy tup would calm her. He tapped Katie on the shoulder. “Once yer finished here, lass, I would have ye meet me up in my bedchamber.”

She gave him a curt nod and returned to her conversation with Meggie. Gavin wandered over and squeezed between Evan and Katie. “Can we go riding after supper?”

Evan ruffled the lad’s hair. “Nay. Yer sister and I have business we need to take care of upstairs. But I will take ye for another ride in the morn.” Seeing his annoyed little face, Evan added, “A mon dinnae fuss if he cannot have his way. Ye would be better served with making sure whatever you want to take to Argyll is packed and ready to go.”

“Aye,” the lad said, dragging the word out.

About twenty minutes passed before Katie joined Evan in his bedchamber. She arrived looking flustered and annoyed.

“What’s the problem, lass?”

“The paper I brought with me. I can’t find it.”

“Paper?” He walked toward her and drew her into the circle of his arms. “Let’s forget about papers and packing and enjoy a bit of time in the bed.” He nuzzled her neck, kissing the soft skin under her ear. “Whatever is missing ye can find tomorrow.”

She drew back. “Nay. I’ve already looked everywhere and can’t find the paper I brought with me from Stirling.”

Evan’s heart thumped, a sense of disaster on the horizon filling him. “What paper is that, lass?”

“The one that proves my family owns this land.”

He stepped back and scrubbed his face. “Ye dinnae need to keep looking for it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I burned it.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

All the blood left Katie’s face, and she gripped her stomach. “Ye burned it?” She barely got the words past her stiff lips.

“Aye.” Evan ran his fingers through his hair. “Ye dinnae need it any longer. Ye are married to me now and dinnae need to claim this land.” When she continued to stare at him, he added, “’Twas verra little chance of that paper proving yer ownership, anyway.”

“Ye burned it?”

“I had a pile of papers I no longer needed and burned the lot of them. Yer paper was one of them.”

Katie sat on the bed and stared into space. “You burned it.” She shook her head. “That paper was passed down for generations. That was the verra reason I came to Fife.” She jumped up and began to pace. After a few strides back and forth, she stopped and stared at her husband, whom she was about to throttle. “Ye had no right to burn that.”

Evan drew himself up. “I am yer laird.”

“No! Ye are an arse,” she shouted at him. “Ye are overbearing, arrogant, high-handed, and pigheaded.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “Ye are correct. Ye are my laird. But ye are also my husband, who should have some respect for me. Even if ye dinnae love me, ye could at least consider my feelings.”

Apparently, given his reaction to her words, love was not something he had expected to ever happen. He sucked in a deep breath and stepped back as if someone had thrown a fist to his gut. “I care for yer feelings.”

“Nay! Ye care for nothing but duty and responsibility. Ye toss out orders like I am yer servant. Ye give me no credit for having a mind of my own.” She walked toward him and waved her finger in his face. Despite the difference in their size, he edged back. “Ye forget that I took care of my own clan for years. Raised my brother, tended to the sick, delivered babies, moved my entire clan across the country for a better life.” She stopped, swiping at the tears sliding down her cheeks. She collapsed on the bed. “Ye’ve taken everything from me. Even my brother.”

The silence that followed her outburst was broken only by Katie’s heavy breathing and muffled sobs. Evan remained where he stood, and she did not look in his direction. She was tired, so verra, verra tired. Instead of the joy in having someone to share her burdens, it appeared her marriage was to be no more than her bowing to all of Evan’s wishes and having no say in anything.

Tags: Callie Hutton Scottish Hearts Historical
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