The combination was enough to move Conran to say, “O’ course she’ll no’ marry Rory. She can no’. No’ when she could be carrying me child.”
The way Evina glanced down sharply to her stomach and covered it protectively with one bemused hand just underlined her innocence for him. He hadn’t got the chance to spill his seed, but she didn’t appear to know that and truly believed she might be carrying his child.
“Oh, well, if she’s carrying his child, then I suppose I’d best no’ marry her,” Rory said with a shrug, and then said to the Maclean, “Ye’ll have to make the offer to Conran instead. ’Tis his bairn.”
“Damned right,” Conran said, nodding grimly. If anyone was marrying her, he was. He wasn’t letting someone else raise his son . . . that she couldn’t possibly be carrying, he realized with a frown as confusion welled up within him.
“Over me dead body,” Evina snarled.
“Gentlemen,” Fearghas said into the silence that followed. “Tildy here will show ye to yer rooms. I think perhaps I need to have a word alone with me daughter.”
When Aulay nodded and speared Conran with a look, he sighed and fell into line with his brothers as they all followed Tildy out of the room. He told himself it was for the best. He didn’t think he wanted to marry Evina, but every time she said she didn’t want to marry him, he wanted to change her mind. And the thought of someone else marrying her just made him want to break something. It was better for him to get away from her and think this through alone, where he could make a decision that wasn’t based on hurt pride, or whatever she was stirring in him.
“I’m afraid two o’ ye will have to share a room,” Tildy said quietly as she led them along the hall. “We’ve only two o’ the three guest rooms left. These last two rooms here,” she added as they passed Conran’s room and continued on toward the two doors beyond it.
Conran considered just going to his room, but knew Aulay wanted to speak to him and would just hunt him down, so followed his brothers, and murmured, “Thank ye, Tildy. We’ll sort out who gets which room,” when she opened the first of the two doors for them and turned back in question.
The old woman stared hard at him for a moment, but then stepped away from the door. “Very well,” she said grimly, and then turned her gaze to Aulay, her expression softening. “Would ye like me to have refreshments brought up? And perhaps some food?”
“Aye, thank ye,” Aulay answered. “’Twas a long journey and we rode through the night to get here. Some food, drink and then a rest would be welcome.”
Nodding, the maid turned and hurried away to the stairs.
They were silent as they watched her go, and then Aulay said, “Rory, ye and Alick can have this room. I’ll take the next.”
Nodding, both men wandered into the room to check it out.
“Come,” Aulay said, putting a hand on Conran’s shoulder to urge him to continue forward. Stopping at the last door, he opened it, but then paused to glance back up the hall and pursed his lips briefly. As he finally entered the room, he commented, “Yer inheritance will come in handy when ye marry the lass, brother. It’ll allow ye to build on more guest rooms up here. Three just will no’ do with the size o’ our family when we come to visit. And if ye have bairns ye’ll no’ even have the three.”
“If we marry,” Conran muttered, following him into the room.
“If?” Aulay asked as he stopped at the foot of the bed and glanced around.
“Well, the Maclean offered her to Rory, no’ me,” he pointed out, and then muttered, “Besides, a lifetime seems a hefty price for a couple minutes in the clearing.”
“A couple minutes is all it takes,” Aulay said dryly, and then turned to eye him. “And ye ken the Maclean will make the offer to ye now he kens what is what and Rory has stepped back from the offer.” When Conran didn’t comment, he added, “It sounded to me like ye were intent on marrying her when ye pointed out she could be bearing yer bairn right now. Was I wrong?”
Conran shifted uncomfortably, knowing that was true.
“Although,” Aulay continued, “I will confess I thought at first that ye were no’ pleased with the idea.” He raised his eyebrows in question. “So, which is it? Do ye plan to marry her, or do ye no’? I’ll support ye either way,” he added solemnly.
“Ye will?” Conran asked with surprise. He’d felt sure his brother would force him to marry Evina. He had ruined her after all.
“Aye, o’ course I will. We’re family,” he said solemnly. “So? Yay or nay?”
Conran turned away and considered the question, but he didn’t really see a choice. While he hadn’t spilled his seed, he had ruined Evina. He’d carried away the proof of her innocence on his cock, and it was now gone. He couldn’t just walk away and pretend it hadn’t happened. On the other hand, she didn’t want to marry him . . . Which had the obtuse effect of making him want to marry her and prove that the bedding could be a pleasure, and that he could make her happy as a husband. Conran was quite sure he could make her happy. He also suspected he could be happy with her.
It wasn’t just her uninhibited passion that made him think that. Conran had been watching Evina since arriving here. Not just in passing either. He’d often watched from the window in her father’s room as she’d moved around the bailey, handling castle affairs and practicing in the bailey with the men. Evina walked with a confident stride he’d only ever seen with his sister, Saidh. She handled her sword like she’d been born with it in hand. She handled the men with the same natural skill, and he could tell they respected her. They obeyed her orders at once and without complaint.
But there was more. Their outing to collect medicinals had been rather revealing. He’d deliberately put the gathering of the plants before the meal to see how she was when she was hungry and tired and Evina hadn’t complained once. She also hadn’t got snappy or cranky either. She’d merely got a bit quieter, her humor getting drier. Conran had enjoyed her wry sense of humor and honesty that day. Evina had flat-out admitted she was supposed to be nice to him, and that she was bad at that kind of thing. She’d admitted her faults with a complete lack of self-consciousness. As if it was just the way it was, and he could take it or leave it as he wished. Conran found he wished to take it.
“I guess I’d best marry her,” he said finally.
“Good, good.” Aulay slapped him on the back and then urged him toward the door. “I really did no’ want to have to beat the shite out o’ ye.”
Conran stopped in the hall and turned sharply on him. “I thought ye said ye’d support me either way?”
“Aye,” he agreed. “And I would have. As yer brother I’ll support ye in anything ye do. And that would have included beating the shite out o’ ye until ye saw yer duty in this situation,” Aulay assured him.
“Ye could try,” Conran said grimly, and turned to head for his own room.
“Brother?”
“What?” He turned back with a scowl.
“The first time is always tricky,” Aulay commented, “but it sounds like ’twas particularly difficult for Evina.”