The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(88)

The obvious delight in her voice chaffed against his gnawing guilt. Guilt he had no reason to feel. He was doing his duty. Seeing to his responsibilities. He couldn’t be at her beck and call all the time. But in truth, he’d missed her. Every moment he was away. She was making him soft … weak, and that was something he could not afford.

He scanned the table in front of her, noticing the ink and hastily dropped quill, the open ledgers, the stacks of papers, the dark smudges on her hands, and even one on her cheek. “What are you doing in here?”

He knew what it looked like she was doing, but it didn’t make sense. He pinned her with his gaze, seeing the flush creep up her cheeks.

She bit her lip, tucking her dark hair behind the delicate pink shell of her ear. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Apparently, it was exactly how it appeared. He looked at her again. Closer this time. Surprised by what he saw—or had failed to notice. “You know how to read and write.”

She nodded and took a few steps toward him, her delicate face lit with excitement. “I’m not finished yet; I wanted it to be perfect. I know how busy you’ve been and I wanted to find a way to help, so I’ve been putting the accounts in order. They were a mess.” She waved her hands, her mouth pulled into a broad smile. “Surprise!”

He didn’t know what to say. To say he was taken aback was an understatement. Such learning was rare in the Highlands for a man, let alone a woman. Keeping track of the accounts was no simple task. Was this the reason for the errors Rhuairi had found? He frowned. “Why have you kept this a secret from me?”

Her face fell; obviously, his reaction was not what she’d hoped for. But what did she expect, when he’d walked in not only to discover she’d been keeping a rather big secret from him, but also to find her knee deep in his private business matters? Lord only knew what a mess she could make of things.

“I wanted to surprise you. To show you that I can help.”

Knowing how sensitive she was, he pressed his lips together, trying to control his temper. “This is not a game, Christina,” he said patiently. “You are interfering with important clan matters. Matters that I told you to leave be.”

“I was only trying to help. I saw an error in the ledgers, and with MacDougall’s recent visit, I knew that I had to do something.”

“I have clerks to keep the books. It’s not your place.” He tried to speak gently. “You are my wife. If you found something wrong, you should have brought it to my attention.” He flipped around one of the ledger books, his gaze traveling down the neatly aligned columns.

She straightened her back, her gaze challenging. “You won’t find any mistakes.”

He turned back to look at her. “Sure of yourself?”

“Very.”

He met her gaze. All of a sudden something else occurred to him. Nay, she wouldn’t have … would she? “What else have you been reading?” He took hold of her arm. “Have you been reading my correspondence? My private correspondence?”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze, but the dark stain on her cheeks deepened.

He swore, the effort to control his temper forgotten. He quickly thought back over the past few weeks. He’d received only two secret missives from MacDonald, which he’d kept in his sporran briefly before burning. He thought he’d been careful, but he hadn’t anticipated that his wife could read.

Fear ate at him. When he thought of the danger she could be in if she unsuspectingly saw something she shouldn’t …

How was he supposed to keep her safe if she kept nosing into matters that did not concern her? She’d crossed the line. “Damn it, Christina, I told you to stay out of it.”

Crushed, Christina felt the hot prickle of tears burn in her eyes. This wasn’t at all as she’d planned. He was supposed to be grateful—maybe even impressed and proud—not furious with her.

Just like her father.

He wasn’t like her father. He was fair. He would welcome help no matter the source. Wouldn’t he?

I don’t need you, he might as well have said.

His perfectly chiseled face was as hard and unyielding as granite. “I don’t understand why you are so angry,” she said. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

White lines appeared around his mouth. “Pleased to have you reading my personal correspondence?”

She cursed her fair coloring and inability to control the heat from rising to her cheeks. There was no excuse. But couldn’t he see that she just wanted to be part of his life? “I only wanted to learn more about you. I wanted to know what you do all day. Why you are always so busy. Why you are always gone.” She gazed up at him, seeing the hard set of his jaw. It was the wrong thing to say—a reminder of what she’d seen at the broch. But she wasn’t the only one to blame. “If you would ever tell me anything, I might not be forced to use other means to find out.”

“God’s wounds, Christina! This is not some kind of childish game—it’s dangerous. I’m doing this to protect you.”

Her eyes flared with anger and humiliation. “Then stop treating me like a child and tell me what is going on.” She grabbed his arm, looking up at him pleadingly. They were standing close. Close enough for her to reach up and touch him. To hold his rough cheek in her hand and feel the hard tic of his jaw under her thumb. “Tell me what you are trying to protect me from.”