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"d.a.m.n right," he agreed. He stood up and pulled her into his arms. "Without flowers," he whispered. "I'm sorry about that. Your safety came first. I didn't have time to make it proper for you."
Dear G.o.d, how she wanted to believe him. "You didn't have to marry me just to keep me safe."
"Yes, I did," he answered. "It was only a matter of time before one of the elders spotted the d.a.m.n ring. They would have recognized it."
"I was going to throw it away," she boasted.
He let out a sigh. "You wouldn't have," he said. "You're too tenderhearted to destroy the only link you had to the man who fathered you."
She decided not to argue that possibility with him. "You don't like him, do you?"
"Your father?"
"Yes."
"h.e.l.l, no, I don't like him," he replied. "He's a real b.a.s.t.a.r.d," he added. "But he's also your father, and since I already knew I was going to keep you, I sent Ramsey to him to talk about an alliance. It would have been more practical to unite with the Dunbars. Their land borders ours, after all, but the Maclean laird is your father and you had a right to eventually claim him... if you wanted to, Judith."
"But you don't trust the Macleans, do you?"
"No," he answered. "As to that, I don't trust the Dunbars much, either."
"Do you like Douglas?"
"Not particularly."
She found his honesty refres.h.i.+ng. "You don't like anyone, do you?"
His smile was filled with tenderness. "I like you."
He always made her breathless when he looked at her like that. Judith had to force herself to concentrate on what they were talking about. She turned her gaze to his chest. "Why was it necessary to form an alliance with either clan? You've always isolated yourselves in the past."
"The Dunbar laird is old, tired, yet he didn't want to pa.s.s his duties on to a younger warrior. When I heard he was negotiating with Maclean, I tried to interfere before the union could be formed. The Dunbars added to the Macleans would make them invincible against us. It was a h.e.l.l of a worry."
"Why didn't you explain this to me?"
"I just did."
He was hedging and they both knew it. "Why didn't you explain before?" she prodded.
"It was difficult for me," he finally admitted. "I've never discussed my concerns with anyone but Patrick before."
"Not even Graham?"
"No."
She pulled away from him and looked up into his eyes. "What made you change your mind?"
"You," he answered. "And Frances Catherine."
"I don't understand."
He took hold of her hand, sat her down on the stone ledge and sat beside her. "In the beginning, I didn't understand this bond between the two of you. You seemed to trust each other completely."
"We do trust each other completely," she told him.
He nodded. "She never told anyone who your father was, and you never worried she would."
Iain seemed to be working something out in his mind. His voice was slow, hesitant. "You in effect gave her a weapon to use against you. A man would never do such a thing."
"Some would."
"I wouldn't," he admitted. "And until I met you, I didn't believe such trust existed."
Abruptly, he stood up. He clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face her. "You've shown me you can give your friend your complete trust. I want the same, Judith. You've told me you trust me. Yet if you trusted me with all your heart, completely, you would accept without question that when I tell you I love you, I mean it. Only then will your uncertainty, your fear, your hurt go away."
Her head was bowed low. She realized he was speaking the truth. "I didn't trust you enough to tell you who my father was," she admitted in a whisper. "But I would have gotten around to it... someday. I was afraid you wouldn't want me any longer if you knew."
"If you'd trusted me enough..."
She nodded. "I did try, right before the wedding ceremony... Why didn't you let me tell you then?"
"I was desperate to protect you, and the only way I knew how was to make you my wife. The council wouldn't have given the matter a second thought. If they'd learned Maclean was your father, they would have used you to try to destroy him."
"If I'd only left the ring back in England, none of this-"
He didn't let her finish. "Secrets have a way of being found out," he told her. "Too many people knew the truth. Your relatives in England might have gone to the Macleans to get their support in order to get you back." He shrugged. "They still might." He didn't seem overly worried about that possibility.
"Iain, I don't think I can stay here. The way Graham looked at me when he found out who my father was... He'll never accept me as a Maitland now. I'll be an outsider again. No, I can't stay here."
"All right."
His immediate agreement confused her. She thought he would at least ask her to try, and she would then be very n.o.ble and give her agreement. How could he confess his love for her and agree to let her leave?
Judith wasn't given time to make him explain. Patrick opened the door and shouted her name.
She went back inside and found Frances Catherine beaming with pleasure. Judith a.s.sumed her friend's husband had been properly contrite.
Frances Catherine didn't feel the ache in her lower back quite as much when she was walking, and so she slowly paced back and forth in front of the hearth while Judith saw to the necessary preparations.
Her friend had a hundred questions to ask about the Macleans. Judith couldn't answer any of them. When she was finally allowed to speak a full sentence without being interrupted, she told her friend about Douglas.
"I have a brother. He's exactly five years older," Judith said. "My mother left him and never said a word to anyone."
Frances Catherine almost toppled over. She became irate on Judith's behalf. "That b.l.o.o.d.y b.i.t.c.h," she shouted.
She was about to bellow another dark opinion of Judith's mother when she heard her husband apologizing for her outside the window. She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep her laughter contained.
"Your mother's a monster," she whispered. "If there's any justice in this world, she'll get what's coming to her."