A Chance Meeting in Glasgow

Chapter 65

Every silent second that went by ripped another shred of Katherine’s self worth away.

Finally Andrew spoke.  “I’d take the morality of a California gold camp over this place any day.”

That’s it, then.  It’s over.  She understood.  At any moment he would order her out of his bed, his room and his life.  It was what any man would do.

And the silence made it worse.

“Did your brother know?”

Why does he torture me this way?  Grinding the confessions out of me?  “No.  He was out of the country.  It was my decision alone, Andrew.” 

Andrew’s voice was soft and quiet.  “Have you told him since?”

“No.”

“Wise choice.  When I met the people who did what they did to Ceana, it was hard to resist killing them.”

There was no longer any question that Andrew understood exactly what she’d done.  Why didn’t he get angry, shout, curse?  Being asked to leave in a calm, measured voice was going to be a hundred times worse.  Why wait?  “Andrew, I’ll leave now.  Please get my clothes.”

“No.”

The room got quiet again.

“Andrew, I need my clothes.”

“I’m not going to get your clothes for you.  I have something else far more suitable for the person you are.”

He slipped from under the covers and padded into the bathroom.  She could hear him fumbling around in the dark.  She imagined him ripping a hole in the center of a bed sheet and pulling it down over her head before turning her out. 

He returned to the side of the bed.  “Andrew?”

“I’ve heard enough from you, Katherine.”  He reached out suddenly under the covers, found her wrist and grabbed her.  Gentle Andrew had never touched her like that, and it was terrifying.  His grip was like iron and he pulled her arm across the bed toward where he was standing.  Katherine was too lost, hopeless and frightened to offer any resistance. 

He took her hand in his, counted her digits, and thrust a small hoop down on her ring finger.

“Oh!  What?”

“We’ll talk more in the morning.”  He raised the covers and crawled into the bed.

She felt of the ring.  It was a small band with a big stone.  “But…”

“Shh.  Quiet.  Now snuggle up against me the way you did in the blackhouse and let’s get some sleep.  Oh, and Katherine?”

“Yes…?”

“Try not to squirm too much.  I’m only wearing my silk piajama.”

Her mind was spinning.  What had just happened couldn’t be real.  She was desperate to pretend it was, though, for as long as the fantasy lasted.  With the last store of emotion she possessed, she said,  “Yes, darling,” and settled into his arms

The silence descended once again.

“Andrew?” she whispered.

“Yes?”

“Do you think it’s after midnight?”

“Most likely.”

“Happy birthday, darling.”