A Beautiful Lie (The Camaraes) (27 page)

“
What
’
s wrong?
”
Muira asked, biting her lip when she caught his worried stare.

“
Nothing,
”
Lachlan said quickly, having known too many women to fall into the trap of answering honestly.  He popped a kiss onto her cheek. 
“
How are you feeling?
”

“
Fine, I suppose,
”
she mumbled, looking at him suspiciously and then tried to work her fingers through her tangled hair.  Lachlan frowned deeply when he noticed the scratches crisscrossing her skin.

“
Muira,
”
he sighed, catching one in his own hand and examining it closely.

“
It
’
s nothing,
”
she murmured, tugging her hand away again, and causing her husband
’
s frown to deepen.  He didn
’
t think she
’
d ever pulled away from him before
…
he wasn
’
t prepared for how much it hurt.

“
I am sorry, Muira,
”
Lachlan blurted before he could stop the words from tumbling out.

“
It
’
s not your fault that we were stuck here all night,
”
she shrugged, but she didn
’
t sound hugely convincing. 
“
I just wish I looked more presentable,
”
she groaned, picking at a hole in her once fine skirt.

“
Muria you look-
“

“
Like some sort of tramp!
”
she interrupted shrilly, rousing the old coach driver who woke with a splutter. 
“
What are they going to
think
, Lachlan?
”
she cried. 
“
Your mother?  The Laird?  What are they going to think of me?
”
she repeated tearfully.

“
I would trust that they both know better than to judge you solely on your appearance,
”
Lachlan said, a little tersely. 

He had a great deal of respect for both Laird MacRae and his mother, and usually considered their opinions on all things to be sound.  (Graem
’
s endeavours to forge a sustainable peace with the Camerons the one exception.)

“
But I wanted to make a good impression, Lachlan!
”
Muira wailed. 

Lachlan had to bite his tongue to keep from letting slip the view that no matter how she might look, she was going to be hard pressed to make a good first impression for the simple fact that she was a Cameron...

“
The impression you make will not be based on the neatness of your hair or the cleanness of your dress, Muria,
”
he sighed at length.

“
Which means they will all hate me regardless!
”
Muira cried, burying her head in her hands.

Lachlan shot a severe glance in the direction of the driver and footman, both of who were awake now, and listening to the discussion between husband and wife with obvious interest.  Looking shamefaced at having been caught, they went about readying the horses and carriage, while Lachlan knelt down in front of his wife, gently pulling her hands away from her face.

“
They won
’
t
hate
you,
”
he said, softening his voice considerably. 
“
It might take them awhile to accept you,
”
he admitted honestly. 
“
But you
’
ll have me and-
”

“
I don
’
t deserve to be accepted,
”
Muira sniffed. 
“
I deserve to be hated for what I did.
”

“
Don
’
t
start that again,
”
Lachlan said, sharply and swiftly. 
“
You do
not
deserve to be hated!
”
he growled firmly.  He frowned. 
“
If anyone gives you any trouble at Eilean Donan you
’
re to come straight to me, you understand?
”
he instructed decisively.  He didn
’
t know exactly how he
’
d deal with them, but he
’
d do
something
.

“
I
’
ll be running to you every five minutes if I do that,
”
Muira laughed bitterly.

“
Muira,
”
Lachlan sighed heavily. 
“
It wouldn
’
t hurt for you to try and be a little positive.  You will have to make an effort you know,
”
he said slowly, and instantly knew that he should have kept his mouth closed.

“
You think I
’
m not going to make an effort?
”
she shrieked. 
“
You think I
’
m some spoilt little princess who-
”

“
I think you sometimes act before you think,
”
Lachlan growled angrily, standing up and towering over his wife. 

He could sympathise with Muira
’
s position, and he had done so, he
’
d thought, quite admirably too in his opinion, especially considering what
he
had also been through.  But he would
not
be screamed at! 

Muira stared up at him, her pretty little mouth hanging open, and her wide, teary eyes riveted on his face.

“
Well I think you- you-
”
she flailed, looking for some insult to hurl back at him,
“
-
you
always have to be right!
”

“
I am always right!
”

“
See!
”
Muira cried, getting to her feet too, and prodding his chest furiously. 
“
Was it
right
to stop here overnight and-
”

“
Hell woman! I
knew
you blamed me for the damn tree falling over!
”

“
You said the roads would be clear!
”

“
You didn
’
t
want
the roads to be clear!
”
Lachlan bellowed. 
“
You never wanted to leave Castle Cameron!
”

“
Well of course I didn
’
t!
”

“
Well maybe you should have thought of that before now?
”
Lachlan snarled.  He couldn
’
t explain why he was so hurt by Muira
’
s positive loathing of just the thought of his home, if their positions had been reversed, if he was facing a lifetime
’
s residence at Castle Cameron then he knew that he wouldn
’
t be jumping over the moon about it
…

“
That
’
s not fair, Lachlan!
”
Muira argued, her voice cracking somewhat on his name.  She turned away from him, and walked a few paces outside the little clearing where they
’
d spent the night, into a denser patch of woodlands. 

Lachlan felt a twinge of guilt; it
hadn
’
t
been an easy twenty-four hours on his wife.  Quite apart from their imminent arrival at Eilean Donan Castle to worry about, Muira had been forced to cope with sleeping rough, and eating hare, and a total lack of all the basic amenities that she was used to; just because he was also tired and hungry didn
’
t mean that he should forget that Muira had been suffering.  His thoughts wandered back a few hours to that night- and she had been terrified.