“You didn’t find her to be…compatible?”
He heard what she was really asking and hid his smile. She wanted to know if he was interested in someone else. He thought of toying with her to see if she’d break out in jealousy but feared he might end up disappointed.
“I’ve never met her. In truth, none of us even knew the McCurdy had a daughter, so no one knows much about her.” He shrugged. “It doesna matter now. I’m married to you.” When she remained silent, he went on. “Besides, I have been telling Lach we don’t need to marry into an alliance with the bloody McCurdys, whose word isn’t worth a piss in the wind.” He cleared his throat. “Pardon my language.” The lass had been married to a bloody duke, and here he was speaking coarse in front of her.
She laughed and shook her head. “It’s fine. It’s been a while since I’ve heard such talk, but I assure you, I shall not swoon.”
He smiled and went on.
“I’m training my men so we’ll be ready to take over the McCurdy clan whenever an opportunity presents itself.”
“A war?” she said with wide eyes.
“Aye. I think it’s the only way to assure our access to the sea. I think the McCurdy will marry off his daughter to get what he wants from us—coin—and then he’ll find some way to turn his back on the agreement. It’s always been his way to cheat.”
“But you said Lachlan doesn’t agree?”
“Nay. He wants a peaceful agreement.”
It was clear Marian agreed with the laird. Most women he’d met preferred peace to war. Even Kenna, who was generally bloodthirsty, didn’t want to go that route.
“I’m not daft,” Cam said. “I know we would lose men. But I think, if we’re clever, we could bring down the McCurdy laird and his sons. Once they no longer hold power, I believe the rest of the clan will easily swear allegiance to Clan MacKinlay. It’s a simple matter of which laird can keep their bellies full. McCurdy is notoriously miserly with his people.”
“Still. It seems an extreme measure just to avoid a marriage you didn’t want. Especially since you ended up shackled anyway.” She frowned, and he reached out to squeeze her hand.
“Aye. We’re in a marriage neither of us wanted, but that doesn’t mean we canna use it to our advantage. You will keep me from having to marry someone who might expect more of me. And you have the protection of my clan.”
“You’re suggesting this is a good thing?”
“I’m suggesting it can be a good thing, so long as we both understand what can and canna be between us.”
She pinched her bottom lip in an enticing way as she took a few moments to think it through. He was proud of her for deliberating her future so thoroughly.
“I think you’re right,” she finally said. “So long as we agree it will never be a real marriage, I don’t see the harm in being legally bound to you.”
“Good,” he said, though something didn’t sit quite right.
Wasn’t this what he’d wanted? A way to stay clear of marriage to a woman who might make demands of love? Mari didn’t want that any more than he did.
And that was a good thing.
A very good thing.
Chapter Nine
Marian spent the night tossing and turning. At the first hint of light, she was out of bed and off to find something to keep her mind busy.
The night before, she and Cameron had come to an agreement. A marriage in name only. Except, they were sharing a room, a bed, and a life.
While she agreed they couldn’t expect love from their accidental marriage, she had to admit—to herself at least—that she was interested in what might eventually happen between them…physically.
And that shocked her to no end. After the physical nightmare she’d endured with the duke, how could she possibly be open to willingly share her body with a man? It made no sense, even to her.
And yet, she could not deny it—she’d felt something warm and pleasant flare within her when Cameron MacKinlay lay next her in the dark.
The idea of lying with him as a wife intrigued Marian in some deep, long-hidden part of her. But the risk remained too great. Her husband, as large and imposing as he was, could break her far more easily than Blackley ever had. Maybe violence didn’t simmer on the surface with Cameron, but at some point she would displease him, and his patience would snap.
What then?
Slipping into the kitchen, she found the women busy with preparations for the morning meal. Kenna wasn’t there. She must have given in to Lachlan’s pleading that she rest until after the babe was born.
The other women—older than Marian and Kenna—offered her a smile as she hovered near the door, unsure of how to help. As a duchess, she’d never stepped foot in the kitchen, much less helped the staff.
Even as a girl she’d never been allowed to linger in the kitchens as Kenna had. Marian had been confined to her training and lessons, forgoing fun in order to secure a future with a nobleman.
She could only imagine what her father would say to find out she’d been handfasted to a Scot. And not even a laird. The thought gave her a flicker of happiness.
She was free to be who she wanted to be. No longer forced into the rules of being the laird’s daughter or contorted into her role as duchess. She could simply be Marian.
Or Mari.
Cameron’s simpler name for her made more sense in her new life. She had been reinvented, living a simpler, easier life.
From now on, she would be Mari.
“Would you be able to help crimp the tarts?” Espath—if she remembered correctly—asked as if knowing Marian—Mari—needed prompting.
“Of course.” She offered them a smile and took her spot, eager to be of help.
This was her home now, and she longed to fit in. Her life as Duchess of Endsmere
