Pushing those thoughts aside, he went back to the reason they were here to begin with as he dabbed his forehead again with the wet cloth. Pulling the cloth away to examine it, he knew she was right, he would likely need stitches. What was one more scar among those he already possessed? “Tell me why ye believe I lied to ye?”
Lifting her chin and pulling her shoulders back, she looked him as full on as she was able. “Back at me father’s keep, ye promised me ye would never lock me away.”
He was mightily confused. “And?”
She let out a quick, annoyed breath. “And ye have done just that. ye have locked me away and I dunnae ken why.”
His head was beginning to throb more boisterously and not just from where he’d hit it on the wide beam. If he thought learning she wasn’t completely blind had been bewildering it took second place to what she just said. “Lass, I have done no such thing.”
“Ye may not have locked the door from the outside, Richard, but ye locked it all the same,” Aeschene told him. The despair in her voice was undeniable.
“I dunnae ken what ye’re talkin’ about,” he replied sternly.
Oh, what she would not give to be able to look into his eyes to search for deceit or truth. “Richard, I have sent for ye on five separate occasions. Each time, the message was the same: ye were either not within the keep or ye were too busy. Marisse and I were told we were not to leave the chamber until ye came to get us.”
“I never gave such an order,” he replied, his anger building. Not at Aeschene, but at whomever had told her such a thing. He knew before they married that her life here would not be easy. However, he hadn’t anticipated this. “And I was never told that ye wished to see me.” In truth, he had made two attempts at seeing her. Both times he was told by one of his servants that the mistress was resting and asked not to be disturbed. ’Twas true that he’d been so angry at learning she did not wish to be disturbed that he made a point of not asking after her again. He’d even gone so far as to convince himself she would have to crawl to him on her knees before he’d give her the time of day.
They had both been lied to.
He watched as clarity dawned in her blue eyes. Another tug at his heart. She was hurt and he did not like it. He’d punish whomever was responsible for lying to them.
But there was still the matter of her climbing out on a ledge just to see him. “While I cannae blame ye for bein’ angry with me, I am still furious that ye took such a chance out on the ledge this day.”
Though in truth, he had to admire her spirit and tenacity. He couldn’t think of another woman he knew who would have taken such a risk. Still, she needed to be made fully aware that such dangerous actions would not be tolerated.
Her cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red. “Ye should ken that there be times when my anger gets the better of me,” she said. “I shall do my best not to repeat this day’s mistake.”
Black Richard appreciated her honesty. “In the future, if ye think I have done somethin’ to offend, I would appreciate it if ye would come to me to discuss it. Better yet, send Marisse for me, aye?”
Because it was a most logical request, she agreed. “I ken ye need stitches. But could we please make time to talk about other things? After ye have seen the healer?”
What other litany of sins did she believe he had committed? His head hurt too much to stay and find out.
Donald MacCullough listened intently to his laird’s tale as he tried to focus on stitching up the man’s forehead. “God’s teeth,” he said with a whistle of astonishment. “I fear I would have dropped dead from a heart seizure were it me wife in such a predicament!”
“I nearly did,” Black Richard admitted. The image of his wife standing precariously on the plank, then falling away, brought back his anger. “And the bloody beam I hit my head on did not help matters any!” he growled.
Donald chuckled slightly. “Women, they can be exasperatin,’ aye?”
“Would ye hurry up?” Black Richard told him.
“‘Twould go faster if ye sat still,” Donald replied.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Black Richard sat as still as he could. He had an intense urge to get to the training fields where he could take his anger and frustration out on his men. The image, of Aeschene falling surged back to life. Undoubtedly, he was going to be spending a lot of time on the training fields.
“And ye say she be not blind?” Donald asked as he pushed the bone needle through Black Richard’s skin.
Another bone of contention; the fact that she was not completely blind. While he would not wish a life of darkness on anyone, save mayhap for his worst enemies, Aeschene’s semi-blindness still bothered him. What if, by some chance, she were to catch a glimpse of him? What then? He need not ask how she would respond. ‘Twould undoubtedly the same way as every other woman had these past few years: With abject mortification.
As Donald continued to ramble on about women, Black Richard made a decision. He would never give his wife a chance to see his face. He’d remain in the shadows. He wouldn’t light candles in her presence. He’d also avoid being out of doors with her, in bright sunlight. He would never remove his cowl and would only spend time with her after sunset. The risk of her actually seeing him made his heart thunder against his chest with a blend of anger and despondency.
“Did ye hear me?” Donald asked as he stood back to look at his handy work.
Black Richard glowered at him. “I rarely listen to ye,” he told him pointedly. “Ye usually ramble on like an auld woman.”
Nonplussed by his laird’s response, Donald tossed the bone needle into a bowl. “And ye be as stubborn as a mule. I was tellin’ ye about a friend I have in Italy.”
“And why would I care about a friend of yers in Italy?” Black Richard asked as he got to his feet.
Frustrated, Donald repeated what he’d told him only moments ago. “Because that friend makes spectacles.”
Confused, Black Richard raised a brow. “Of himself or others?” he asked sarcastically.
“Nae a spectacle, ye eejit,” Donald said. “Spectacles. Little round bits of glass that help a person with poor vision to see. Akin to a magnifying glass, but there be two and they sit on the bridge of yer nose.”
Black Richard immediately stopped, his hand resting on the latch of the door. Confusion and curiosity blended together.
“Aye,” Donald smiled knowingly. “A magnificent invention if ye ask me.”
The devil’s work if ye ask me, Black Richard thought. A wife with good vision? The thought unnerved him.
“I can write to him and ask him to visit,” Donald said. “We could get that bonny wife of yers to see!”
Richard thundered toward him. “Are ye mad?” he asked cynically. “The last thing I need is a wife who can see me.”
Donald took a step back. “I have not met her yet,” he admitted. “Be she the kind of woman who would be distressed by yer scar?”
In truth, Black Richard didn’t know. He had spent so little time with her since they were married. Even less since coming home a few days ago. “It matters nae,” Black Richard replied angrily. “Fer we will never find out.”