When he arrivedoutside of her chambers, the door was open, and afternoon light was flowing into the corridor. He stepped forward, looking into the room and spotting her by the window. She’d placed her easel there and had a canvas propped against it as if she were using the view as inspiration.
In her hand,she held a palette with several colors. She dipped her paintbrush in blue and then into green. Ryan watched as shemixed them in an empty area. Then, with the bristles loaded, she brought it to the canvas with a remarkably steady hand.
“So this iswhere ye’ve been,” Ryan said, his voice causing Margaret to jump in an exaggerated manner.
A lineof sea-green paint marred the white surface on her easel. She spun toward him, her eyes wide. The brush was clutched in her fist as though it were a weapon. Ryan couldn’t help but think that it was cute how she attempted to make herself intimidating.
The instinctson her are good, aye, but there is nay way she’s scarin’ anyone lookin’ like that.
“You frightened me,”she said breathlessly, taking half a step away from him, her fingers tightening slightly on the handle of her brush.
“I wasnae sneakin’up on ye,” Ryan said, crossing his arms and frowning as she put more distance between the two of them. “And ye cannae expect nae to be disturbed if ye’re keepin’ yer door open.”
“I wanted a breeze,”Margaret said as her body relaxed incrementally. She still held her tool out, though it drooped now. “And I suppose I was quite absorbed in my painting… though I can’t say I’m satisfied with what I’ve done thus far.”
“Do ye nae have anythin’to show for the past few days?” Ryan asked as he stepped into the center of the room. Somehow, shewas still hiding away from him even though he was right in front of her. “I assume ye’ve been workin’ on yer art since I havenae seen ye.”
“Well, I keep restarting,”she murmured, focusing on the canvas as if to avoid his gaze. “I can’t seem to get anything onto the canvas that I’m satisfied with. And then, there are situations like this where I make a wild stroke over something that I was starting to like…”
Ryan felt his patience waver.Perhaps it was foolish to assume that the wall she’d erected between them had crumbled, but her avoidance of him was grating. If anything, she wanted to be around him even less now. It didn’t make any sense to him.
“Ye’ve been avoidin’me,” he said, an edge of annoyance bleeding into his voice. “Ever since our night at the loch, ye’ve been keepin’ away from me.”
“No,”she replied though she was still refusing to look at him, her eyes now focused on a point somewhere over his shoulder. “I’ve simply been preoccupied with my painting.”
“I’d be moreinclined to believe ye if ye had anythin’ to show me,” he said, taking another step forward. “Ye daenae even have an old canvas to show. Are ye sure ye havenae just been sittin’ in here to stay out of me sight?”
He was onlya few paces away from her. Finally, she angled her chin up to meet his eyes. There was something there, underthe surface, fear and an emotion more complicated. Part of him longed to be able to read the intricacies of her expressions.
“Well,”she explained, with a slight tremor in her voice, “I’ve restarted several times. So?—”
“That’s enough, Margaret,”he said, getting even closer. He could reach out and touch her if he wanted. “I ken ye’re avoidin’ me. Tell me what happened. Is it the maids and their gossipin’? Was it what happened at the loch?”
At that,she froze, looking away again. It seemed as though he’d guessed correctly. His fingers twitched, aching to reach out to touch her, but he thought better of it. There was no use in it yet, not if she was still upset about his actions a few nights ago.
“Tell me what’s botherin’ye,” he sighed, softening his voice a bit to encourage her to share. “Did I do somethin’ wrong a few nights ago?”
Aye, she is makin’me softer. There’s nay denyin’ that.
“No,you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said with a sigh. “I just…”
Ryan stayed quiet,waiting as she parsed through her thoughts. Her mouth opened and closed twice. Then, she swallowed and looked to the side.
The Laird’spresence was exhilarating, even though he was dangerous. She’d been able to ignore it in the whirlwind of the wedding festivities, but now, she shared a bed with him each night. Now, she’d been intimate with him.
I just can’t reconcilethe two different sides of him that I’ve seen. He’s so gentle with me. Yet… I know that he can be vicious. I’ve seen it. I’m almost disgusted that I allowed someone capable of cruelty touch me. I thought I was more principled than this.
“Ye ken,I cannae fix whatever it is if ye daenae tell me what I did wrong,” he said when she didn’t offer a further explanation. His voice took on a gentle quality that only made her thoughts twist more. “Avoidin’ me isnae going to solve anythin’.”
“I’m just torn,”she said, the words spilling out of her lips. With that tone and the way he was looking at her, she couldn’t hide from him any longer. “I can’t believe that I let someone so cruel touch me.”
“Cruel?”Ryan asked, his brow furrowing. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think that she’d hurt the Laird with her words. “I have nae been cruel to ye. I’ve treated ye with nothin’ but respect.”
Margaret sucked in a breath,squeezing the paintbrush in her fist. It wasn’t a real weapon, but still she wielded it as one. Anxiety bubbled up in her gut. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, biting the inside of her cheek. He was right.
“Wouldye at least tell me why ye think me cruel?” he pushed.
I’m goingto have to tell him what I saw before the wedding. Hopefully, he continues to be respectful toward me even after learning that I was spying.