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Freya stared at him.
Not long enough. As if last night had been nothing. As if she hadn’t lain in his arms and told him what she’d never told another living soul. As if she hadn’t put his ring on her finger this very evening and walked down those stairs in front of every soul in the castle wearing his colors.
Not long enough.
It had been a mistake to open up her heart. It had been a mistake to agree to any of this.
No. The babies needed her. She wouldn’t leave them alone. She had grown to care for them in that short amount of time.
“Right,” she uttered. “Ye’re right. We’ve nae been together long enough for yer choices to affect me. How could I be so foolish as to forget that simple fact?”
She rose, smoothed her skirts with hands that would not quite stop shaking, and turned toward the door.
She made it three steps before his hand closed around her wrist. Not hard. He had never once held her hard, but it stopped her all the same. When she turned, he was right there, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, close enough to see the muscle jumping in his jaw.
“Freya.”
“Let go of me.”
“Nae until ye listen,” he murmured. “Ye’re going to rush off angry, and there are things I need to tell ye.”
“I’ve listened, and frankly, I’ve heard everything ye have to say.” Her breath caught. “I heard every word, me Laird.”
He flinched at the title.
Neither of them moved. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and hers, traitorous, dropped to his. She turned her head, refusing to kiss him.
His breath tickled her cheek. It would only take shifting a few inches, and her lips would be on his. Even furious, she felt the heat of him an inch away and hated how her body leaned toward it.
“Ye got what ye wanted, me Laird. We’ll nae annul the marriage. I’ll stay for the bairns.” She pulled her wrist out of his grip. “But ye willnae touch me again. Last night was the last time. That is a promise.”
She moved past him, only for him to grab her wrist again.
“Freya, please.”
It was the first time she’d ever heard him say the word in such a way. She didn’t let it move her, but it did. She hated that some part of her still wanted to believe him.
“Ye once told me that ye never play fair.” She turned to him, hating the tears welling up in her eyes. “Why should I?”
“I never lied to ye, lass.”
“Nay, ye didnae. That’s the worst of it.” Her voice cracked, and she steadied it. “Ye were honest from the very start. I was the fool who forgot.”
“Ye’re nae a fool.”
“Then what am I, Evander? A nursemaid for yer braither’s bairns? A pretty face to stand beside ye at a feast?”
“Ye ken that isnae—”
“I ken nothing! That’s what I learned tonight.”
“Whoever told ye had no right.”
“Whoever told me that told me the truth.” She pulled her wrist free again. “Last night, ye showed me something that wasnae real.”
She tugged at the ring. It caught on her knuckle, stubborn as the man who’d given it to her, and for one awful moment, she thought it wouldn’t come off. Then, at last, it slid free.
She pressed it into his palm and closed his fingers over it. “Keep it. I’ll stay for the bairns, but I’ll nae wear a lie on me finger.”
