Rowan was endeavoring to read a book when the knock came at her door. Tossing the book aside—her lack of attention meant she had been on the same page for a quarter of an hour now—she ran to the door and swung it open, hoping dearly it was Blair, back from the kitchen with shortbread.
She had barely been able to eat anything at dinner the night before, so addled she was by Lachlan’s presence at her side. Her father had requested the “two lovebirds” be seated next to each other, and it had resulted in the most awkward meal in recent memory.
The cook had made all her favorites—leg of lamb, roasted potatoes, gravy so thick you could stand a spoon in it, and more beer bread than she had thought the ovens could handle. And because of Lachlan, she had eaten barely a bite of it.
Now, she was starving and had begged Blair to sneak into the kitchen and beg some shortbread off of Cook, who she knew would cede Rowan’s every command today because it was her “special day.”
It was indeed Blair at the door, and Rowan relaxed against the doorframe and smiled. “Thank God yer back. I have nae been able to concentrate, I’m so hungry,” she said, smiling—
Until she looked behind Blair and saw the imposing figure of Lachlan.
“What is he doing here?” she asked Blair, but her friend ignored her and walked into the room, with Lachlan following behind.
“Did I say that ye could come into me private chambers?” Rowan asked, keeping her voice low.
Though they were to be wed that day, they were not allowed to be in a room together alone until after the ceremony. Were they caught, rumors would spread throughout the castle, and Rowan could not take any more prying eyes on her today than would already be in attendance.
“Hush, Rowan. I invited him in,” Blair said, turning around and looking at Rowan like she was a child rather than a woman and her best friend.
“And why did ye—” she began.
Blair halted her with a stay of her raised hand.
“Ye both need to talk. I will stand down the hall to ensure Ainslee does not come in and I will be back in one hour. I expect that by then, the two of ye will be the picture of marital happiness,” Blair said, not waiting for their response before she walked through the door and shut it behind her, leaving Rowan alone in her room, with a man, for the first time in her life.
She glared at Lachlan, frustrated not only that he had appeared before her but that the shortbread had not.
Holding up his hands, he explained, “In my defense, Blair can be very persuasive when she wants to be.”
“Aye, I ken,” Rowan said, rolling her eyes and sitting on a small settee near the fire. She rested her elbows on her knees and allowed her chin to fall into her hands, not caring if she looked hunchbacked and ogre-like to Lachlan.
She was, however, suddenly rather glad she had gotten dressed and plaited her hair.
“But I am glad she persuaded me to come, because we have much to discuss before today’s events,” Lachlan said, remaining standing but walking closer toward her until he was within reaching distance.
Nae that I want to reach for him, she reminded herself, even as the thought of taking his hand in hers suddenly overwhelmed every other rational impulse in her body.
“Rowan?”
She realized that while she had imagined the warmth of his palm pressed to hers, the intimacy of their fingers entwined together, Lachlan had been speaking.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I have nae been sleeping well, and it has affected my attention.” It was not technically a lie; since that day at the armory, she had barely found any uninterrupted rest. All her dreams were of Lachlan, and she awakened from them confused, angry, but most of all, missing him.
Yet she was not about to show that to him, so after apologizing, she continued in her carefully casual posture, a slight glare in her eyes covering the fact that she continued to rake her eyes over his hands, which seemed to beg her to touch them, caress them, learn their every crease and callous.
“I said that I am sorry for not coming to talk to ye sooner. I ought to have, but I—”
“But ye were worried that I would bite yer head off like a fire-breathing dragon and make ye rue the day ye ever bared yer soul to me?” she asked, letting some of her embarrassment show.
For she had been ashamed, wholly disgusted in fact, by her actions. Lachlan had told her he loved her, had wanted to be her friend, and rather than giving him the respect that he and his admission deserved, she had fled, and in doing so, disrespected them both. If they were ever to have an equitable marriage, she knew she had to treat him as she would want to be treated, and there were few things she hated more than someone walking away from her in the middle of a discussion.
“Aye,” he said with a laugh. “I was hurt and allowed cowardice to overtake my better instincts. I’m sorry, lass.”
“Donnae apologize. I—”
Lachlan held up a hand. “Let me finish, Ro,” he said, his tone beseeching.
Rowan blushed at the use of her nickname. It was one her mother had first called her, which had later been adopted by her father and Blair, and to hear it come from Lachlan’s lips made her feel that much closer to him.
Nodding, she gestured for him to speak, a fluttering in her belly making her wish her stomach were filled with more than air and a craving for biscuits.
“I should have come to ye because though this was our first argument as a united pair, it will nae be the last. And we must learn to talk through strife rather than ignoring it, for in refusing to meet the problem, we make life far harder for ourselves.”
Rowan nodded, knowing the truth of his words and realizing for the first time just how wise Lachlan was.
What other qualities of his have I been so blind to? she wondered.
“I apologize for scaring ye with me feelings. It was nae the right time to tell ye I love ye, but I was overcome,” he explained, casting his eyes down as if temporarily reliving the moment.
Rowan felt the now-familiar heat spread through her at those three perfect words. She adored them and hated them in equal measure for how they made her feel, warm and weak all at once.
“But I will nae put pressure on ye to love me in return, now or ever. This is not a marriage as most would have it. We came together because I won a test—”
“How did ye ken about that?” Rowan asked, looking up at Lachlan, who frowned sheepishly.
“Blair. She said I passed some test ye had for me, and that is why ye chose me.”
Rowan laughed. “It was not the contest. The archery contest. I told meself that a man who could win the contest and not only stand for my besting him, but also treat me like any other opponent at the end, would be me husband. And ye did,” she said, smiling. “Ye treated me like I was another man.”
Lachlan smiled as well, though his was tinged with disbelief. “Ye chose the person to spend the rest of yer days with from a silly contest? What if I dinnae win, and ye were stuck with some bampot?”
“I dinnae ken ye would win. I was so fixed on finding a husband that I dinnae even remember that ye were the reigning champion of the contest and have been so for as long as I can remember.”
At this, Lachlan deflated somewhat. “Aye. So ye dinnae have me in mind. It could have been anyone.”
Rowan reached out then and took Lachlan’s hand, finding that it was even more delicious to feel his skin against hers than she could have possibly imagined.
Pulling him toward her, she looked up at him and said, “I dinnae have ye in mind, but I am dearly glad ye won. Because it is clear to me now, Lachlan Stewart, that I have done naught but underestimate ye these past years. Ye are the kindest, most clever, fiercest man I have ever met, and I am honored that today ye will become me husband.”