Instead of allowing her mind to run amok, Emilie focused on the annulment. How on earth could she get Laird McGregor to request one?
Her mind toiled with this as she walked to the armoire that he indicated. When she pulled it open, there were a few sparse, simple shifts within it.
She grabbed one without giving it much consideration and busied herself with getting ready for bed. She left the door tothe armoire open while she changed, using the door to block her body from the view of the bed.
All the while, her mind was still toiling, turning the possibility of an annulment over and over while she searched for a solution. But as Emilie walked toward the bed and pulled back the covers, she was no closer to finding one.
The bed was big. Much bigger than anything she had experienced at the abbey. And there was enough space that Archer was nowhere near her where she slept.
But they were still sharing the same blanket. And it was warm beneath it from all the heat his massive body let off.
Emilie had thought for certain that she would not be able to sleep. Had thought that she would be tossing and turning all night, despairing over how she would receive the annulment she so desperately desired.
But the warmth and the comfort of the bed—it all worked together to muddle her mind. And when she finally drifted off, dreams of the abbey and the friends she left behind rose up to greet her.
Emilie was confused when she woke up. The bed. The room. Everything around her was entirely unfamiliar. And it took several blinks of her eye to remember where she was.
Castle McGregor—where she was now the Lady. And, she shared the room that she was now in with her new husband.
Emilie rolled over, expecting to see said husband lying next to her. But the bed was empty.
The blankets had been thrown back, an indent in the downy mattress showing exactly where his body had been. But when Emilie reached out a hand, the spot was cool to the touch.
He must have left a while ago if I can nay longer feel his warmth.
She wasn’t sure why, but the thought sent a pang of something like regret shooting through her.
Archer had said last night that he didn’t want to bed her. And there was some part of Emilie that had been certain that it had been a lie to lull her into a false sense of security.
What type of man is content marrying a woman he has no intent of bedding?
But he’d been true to his word.
And I’m all the gladder for it.
Even as she thought the words, Emilie knew they weren’t quite true. And there was a bubble of shame that came with that realization.
She was resolute in keeping her vows. But it was proving more and more difficult not to imagine all the sins that she could be committing with her husband.
They wouldnae be sins though. Nae when ye’re married.
Emilie quickly banished that thought, knowing that this line of thinking was a dangerous road to walk down.
Throwing back her covers, Emilie stood. Her joints were stiff from staying in the same position all night. She began stretching them, sighing with relief as a bit of the tension started to leave her body.
“Me Lady.”
A high, feminine voice rang outside her chamber door at the same time someone knocked.
Emilie looked down at herself. She was still in the simple nightdress that she’d worn to sleep in. It wasn’t something she would entirely consider decent. But it wasn’t like she had anything else to change into.
“Come in,” she called out, and a split second later the door popped open.
A maid walked in, her arms extended in front of her as she stepped carefully into her room. Swaths of fabric were draped over them, and it took Emilie a moment of staring at them to realize that they were gowns.
“The Laird sent an order to have them made for ye before the weddin’,” the maid explained, giving Emilie a soft smile. “There’ll be more that are delivered later. They’ll be a bit more extravagant than these. But these will suit ye well for a little while at least.”
Emilie walked forward, multiple emotions warring within her. She didn’t know what to say.