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Chapter Six

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BY THE BLOODY rood, what had Chloe gotten herself into? He was the love of her life? Married to him? He thought not.

While it was on the tip of his tongue to deny her declarations, he knew by the suspicion on Robert’s reddened face and the way he clutched her arm that things had gone wrong in very little time. So he introduced himself, pleased to discover that Robert knew of him. More so, that he had been seeking him out.

“I was told I might find ye here,” Robert said. “The wee king has requested ye join him in Perth.” His relieved yet curious gaze returned to Chloe. “I was also told ye would likely have a lass with ye.” He shook his head. “Though I wasnae told she was yer wife.”

Though Robert had been at the Battle of Bannockburn, when Aidan's parents, along with his aunts and uncles, had come together, he knew nothing of why the MacLomains and their kin had been present. How they had aided his father, King Robert, and William Wallace during the First War. So he knew nothing about women traveling back in time.

That said, though the last thing he wanted to do was call Chloe his wife, it was for the best right now. Or so he kept telling himself. While it made good sense and kept her safe, he feared his real reasoning stemmed from unexpected jealousy. He hadn’t liked the way Robert flirted with her, nor the overly admiring looks she received from far too many men.

“Aye, Chloe is my wife,” he stated, shooting her a frustrated look before he nodded graciously at Robert. “Forgive me, my Laird, ‘twas my fondest hope she would stay in our chambers.” He eyed her attire, wondering if she had manifested it with magic. “Especially in her new dress.”

“’Tis a fine garment,” Robert agreed, his gaze no longer suspicious as it lingered on her. “For a lovely lass.”

He had heard many admirable things about Robert. How bravely he fought in battle. Yet there was clearly more to the man. Namely, an avid appreciation for beauty. Chloe, in turn, didn’t seem overly opposed. Which explained why Robert, despite knowing she was married, didn't seem inclined to stop admiring her. Mayhap even pursue her despite her having a husband. Such things happened all the time, especially with royalty and even royal bastards.

“I will see her changed into something more appropriate.” Aidan wrapped his elbow with hers, eager to get her out of the courtyard and away from lustful eyes. “Then, we will meet to discuss travel plans, aye?”

“There is little to discuss,” Robert informed, back to business in record time. “We will leave within the hour.” His gaze lingered on Chloe a moment longer then went to Aidan. “Ye will ride alongside me.”

With that, he spun on his heel and strode off.

“Ye’re bloody lucky that went as well as it did, lass,” he muttered under his breath the moment Robert was out of earshot.

Though he tried not to look at her, it was impossible. Her hair fell in a heavy mass of shimmering waves and curls down the center of her back, and her delicate features were truly stunning. If her lively eyes didn’t capture a man’s attention, then her plush, heart-shaped, kissable lips surely did.

His frustration grew as he led her back into the castle. “Yer curiosity will be the death of ye in these parts if ye dinnae listen to me.”

“And I fully intended to,” she argued softly so anyone passing by could not hear. “Until I heard you lock the door.”

“A lot of good that did.” He sighed, trying to rein in his emotions. The danger she had put herself in troubled him. “Did your ring unlock it then? Your magic?”

“No, though I wish it had,” she replied. “Robert unlocked it.”

“Robert?” He frowned as they made their way upstairs. “What was Robert doing unlocking random doors? Were you calling out?”

“No, he heard me fiddling with the handle.” She scowled at him. “You could’ve trusted me, you know.”

“Clearly not.” He gestured at her attire. “Where did your dress come from?”

“I have no idea.” They started down the hallway. “Not really.”

“What do you mean, not really?”

When she looked at him hesitantly, he sighed again. “You need to tell me everything lass so that we might get through this.”

“This being what?” She slid him a look. “You locking me in rooms while you figure everything out? While you try to save Scotland without me?”

“In part,” he acknowledged. “Your curiosity needs containment and our destined true love connection...,” wasn’t going to happen, “will take time.”

He was determined to find a way around it. Or mayhap even trick it somehow. Love her without truly loving her. Or worst case, love her but never as much as he did Maeve. While history had seemingly proven there was no avoiding the MacLomain-Broun connection, he had to try. He felt too strongly about this.

“My curiosity needs containment?” Her eyes rounded, and her mouth flattened in disgust. “I understand you want to keep me safe if that’s what this is really about, but containing someone’s nature is impossible, Aidan.” She shook her head. “You can’t box someone in like that.”

“We shall see,” he muttered, knowing he had used a poor choice of words. He suspected nothing could contain her. Nevertheless. “I wouldnae need to worry about it if you practiced more caution and tempered your curiosity.” He shook his head, his frustration not waning. Without his magic working properly, he had no way of getting her safely out of here if she were accused of spying. It would mean certain death. “’Tis but a matter of showing self-restraint.”

Excuse me?” Baffled, she stopped, planted her fists on her hips, and eyed him for several moments. He expected a scathing response, but instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, her anger gone as swiftly as it had arrived. Her expression softened as she considered him. “That’s what you do, isn’t it?” She shook her head, figuring things out far too quickly. Hell, figuring out things even he hadn’t realized until this moment. “That’s what you’ve been doing since she left you.”

“I dinnae ken—” he began.

“Yes, you do. Or at least I do.” Compassion lit her eyes. “You’re terrified of losing someone you love again. So since Maeve died, you’ve allowed your world to get smaller and smaller, more tightly restrained.” Her eyes narrowed in understanding. “The truth is you don’t want to be here without her.” She shook her head. “You’re just going through the motions, not really living.”

While it could be said she was craftily redirecting the subject from her to him, he sensed more than evasiveness at work. A level of understanding she shouldn’t have. A connection between them that wasn’t there hours before. Make that minutes.

He scowled and shook his head, uncomfortable with her assessment, trying to convince himself she was wrong. He lived. He fought for his country and defended his clan. He smiled and laughed, though granted, not as much as he used to.

“We are not talking about Maeve, nor will we be again,” he said flatly. “She is not part of this.”

“Sadly, I think she is,” Chloe said softly, her gaze steady on his face. “I think she’s with you no matter where you go, tightening a noose around your neck that she no longer has anything to do with.”

What noose? What the bloody hell was she talking about?

“You know what I’m talking about,” she murmured, surprising them both based on her expression. Because she had clearly heard his thoughts. “You’re caught somewhere between loving her and being angry with her, not just because she left you but...,” her pupils flared in sudden magical understanding, “because she loved another.”

About the last thing he wanted to talk about was this.

Especially with her.

Yet Chloe’s curiosity was at the helm again.

“What makes it worse is he’s family.” She searched his eyes. “And he betrayed you...they both did.” She cocked her head. Her eyebrows pinched together. “Or was it the other way around?”

“’Twas as you said the first time,” he grunted, refusing to stick around for this. He continued down the hall, grinding out, “She was with me first. Cray should have never gone near her.”

While he had since forgiven his cousin, or so he showed the world, hearing Chloe speak of it opened old wounds.

She caught up with him. “Did he, though?”

“Did he what?”

“Did Cray go after her?”

“Och, aye, of course, he did!” He strode into his chamber and gathered his belongings, all the while muttering things he shouldn’t to a lass he had only just met. “He’d had his eye on her and finally acted on it. Bloody MacLeod!”

“Well, that’s awful,” she agreed.

“Aye, ‘twas.”

“But is it true, I wonder?”

He stopped what he was doing and frowned at her, not liking the speculation on her face. As if she sensed something she should not.

“Aye, ‘tis true, lass,” he assured. “My cousin betrayed me.”

“They both betrayed you,” she reminded. “But that’s not what we’re talking about.”

“’Tis precisely what we are talking about.”

“No, we’re talking about who approached who,” she said. “And when exactly that happened.”

“Aye, and ‘tis a good question, lass,” came the last voice he wanted to hear. “After all, ‘twas me Maeve loved first, not the Hamilton.”