“Yes, madam.”
As soon as he was gone she opened the letter and found a page full of Cameron’s large script. He seemed to have no regard for the size of the paper. It reminded her of how he took up the majority of their bed. She smiled until her lip pinched.
Dearest wife,
I canna tell ye how truly sorry I am for causing you this pain. I ken you’re quick to forgive me, and I’ll not play the coward and confess my sins in a letter. Just know that I’ll stand before ye soon and state my wrongdoings. I can only hope you’ll forgive me.
I must also apologize for not acknowledging your letter yesterday. I’m not one for correspondence, and I was impatient to move forward. But I now see the allure of the written word. And how easy it is to pour your soul onto a page.
Please know you are not alone in wanting physical pleasure between us. I think of ye in that way most of my waking hours, and many of my sleeping hours as well.
I fear I’ve ruined any chance for further kissing in the near future, but know I will take advantage of the opportunity if you feel me worthy of such affections.
Your repentant husband,
Cam
Another smile split her lip open again, but she didn’t mind. She was too overcome with joy. He’d written to her. He said he wanted to kiss her and thought about it often. He also thought she wouldn’t want him to. She went to Kenna’s solar to retrieve a paper and quill.
She’d just have to tell him how wrong he was.
Chapter Fifteen
“I’m going to bloody kill you.” Cam grabbed Bryce up by his shirt, lifting the man off the ground.
“What did I do?”
“You suggested I should be messy and toss my things about.” Cam waved a hand in the air as he dropped Bryce back to his feet. “Did you see my wife? She’s hurt, and it’s all because I listened to your stupid talk. God bless Maggie for dealing with the likes of you for the too-few years she was here with us.”
“Do not speak of Maggie.” Bryce’s dark eyes flashed in warning.
Cam had overstepped, but he wanted someone else to blame for Mari’s pain, and Bryce was somewhat responsible. Even if he hadn’t been the one to throw his boot in the path of Cam’s poor wife. Bloody hell.
“I’m sorry.” He ran his hands through his hair. “How do people stand this? She’s so little and delicate. I don’t want to hurt her.”
Leaving his boots out where she might trip was bad enough, but if she consented to lie with him, what then? How would he make love to her without injury?
“Even the dainty ones are stronger than you think. They birth babes, Cam. They’re not weak. You or I wouldn’t stand it.”
“Christ. What if I get a babe on her? I should keep my bloody hands to myself. I’m going to go stay in the woods until we’re old and gray. Then I’ll be too feeble to cause her harm.”
“You’re talking nonsense. You wouldn’t make it two days knowing food and a warm woman await you here.”
Cam wanted to argue, but Bryce was right. And it wasn’t the food that was the biggest lure.
“I need to talk to her.”
He’d kept his distance the entire day. Using her method of communicating by letter was a bit easier than speaking to her directly. He hadn’t been strong enough to face her most of the day. Seeing her limping, with her beautiful face bruised, made his chest hurt as if he’d been stabbed through.
But it was time to confess. Time to face it straight on like the warrior he was. If she hated him, it would make things easier for both of them. He’d find a place to sleep in the hall, and they’d not need to speak again.
He should want that. It would give him a perfect excuse if Lach complained of the arrangement.
But he hoped for something else.
He stood at their chamber door and rested his head against the wood. He was out of ideas and ways to make his wife comfortable with him. Rather than come up with another bungled plan, he decided to be honest and hope for the best.
He entered to find her already in bed with the covers pulled up like a shield, as on the other nights she’d been in bed when he arrived. He closed and barred the door and went to sit next to her by the bed. As usual, she flinched when he moved too quickly.
He let out a breath. “You remember the talk we had down by the river? When I told you to tell me if you dinna like something I did or didna do?”
“Yes. I remember.”
“But you’ve not said anything. Not when I flirted with the serving girl right in front of you the other evening. Not about my clothes scattered about the room. Not even about my boots in the middle of the floor causing you to trip and injure yourself. Nothing. Not so much as a peep to show your displeasure.”
She hesitated, then said, “It almost sounds as if you did those things on purpose to earn my ire.”
“That would be bloody foolish.” His gaze glanced away from hers. “But it’s also true.” He winced. Christ almighty. “I’m sorry.”
“You wanted me to be angry with you?” She looked confused, and rightfully so, but still not angry.
“Yes—no. I wanted you to feel comfortable enough to argue with me. I thought if we had a disagreement and you and I scrapped a bit, when it was over you would see I hadn’t hurt ye, and you would no longer be afraid of me.”
Damn Liam for suggesting such a plan. And damn Bryce and Lach for agreeing with such a farce. But mostly, damn himself for thinking this was the way to go about making someone feel safe. What an arse he was.
She shifted slightly. “I appreciate your efforts—I guess—but I’m not afraid of you, Cameron.”
“Nay?” He reached for her, his heart filled with hope, but she instantly pulled away, her eyes wide with the same fear he saw each time he moved too quickly.
He let out a breath. “Aye, I can see that. Never mind. I’ll bed down in the hall. You can sleep here in peace.” He stood to leave again.
“No. Wait.” She slid from the bed and hobbled over to him.
He grimaced, hating that she was obviously still in pain.
“As I said in my letter…it’s not you that I fear. I know violence is not your way. But my body remembers the past and reacts without my consent. Just by instinct. I can’t help it.”
He shook his head. “It’s not just your body. You’re a timid little mouse around me, and I can’t take it. If I do something wrong, you should feel free to let me have it. I know he hurt you, but I’m not the duke. Never would I hurt you.”