Page 139 of The Laird's Masked Passion

Margaret smiled. “Ye care fer him.”

The words entered the room gently and created great disorder.

“I care whether he survives,” Elspeth replied. “Thatis a sensible concern in a husband.”

“And whether he sleeps?” Margaret teased.

“He daesnae.”

“Whether he eats?”

“Rarely enough.”

“Whether his shoulder pains him?”

“He lies about it.”

Margaret’s smile deepened. Elspeth realized, much too late, that she had not improved her defense.

“I am only saying,” she continued with dignity, “that the man possesses nay instinct fer preserving himself.”

“Men such as Colin rarely dae.”

Something in Margaret’s voice changed. The amusement remained but softened around an older understanding.

“They ken how tae protect,” she said. “They ken how tae command, threaten, and place themselves between danger and everyone they consider theirs. But loving softly…” She glancedtoward the closed door through which their husbands had disappeared into Council. “That is more difficult.”

Elspeth looked down at her hands. “Difficulty isnae an excuse fer cruelty.”

“Nay.” Margaret’s answer came without hesitation.

Elspeth looked at her again.

“A cruel man hurts others because their pain gives him power,” Margaret continued. “A frightened man may become cold because feeling gives others power over him. The harm can resemble itself from a distance, and neither should be accepted without question. But they arenae the same.”

Elspeth thought of her father. He never withdrew because he feared wounding those near him. He withdrew kindness deliberately, as punishment or instruction. He used silence to make a room smaller and affection to purchase obedience.

Colin’s silence was different. It did not demand that others suffer. It seemed built to contain his own suffering before it escaped.

“He pushes me away,” Elspeth whispered.

Margaret’s gaze gentled. “Aye.”

“Then becomes furious when I go.”

“That also sounds like Colin,” Margaret nodded.

“It is unreasonable.”

“Entirely.”

Elspeth waited for more. Margaret took up her needle again.

“Love rarely improves a man’s reason. It merely gives his foolishness a particular direction.”

Skye laughed. Elspeth did not.

She was thinking of Colin searching the castle because she was not in their chamber, of his face when he found her in the stables, of his hand closing around hers beneath the dinner table where no one could see.