I lifted my chin, my own jaw clenched as tightly as his."No," I said. "No. I don't run away from things. And I'm not afraid of you."
His gaze fastened on my throat, where my pulse was going at a frantic rate.
"Aye, I see," he said. He stared down at me, and his face gradually relaxed into a look of grudging acquiescence. He sat down gingerly on the bed, keeping a good distance between us, and I sat back warily. He breathed deeply several times before speaking, his face fading a bit toward its natural ruddy bronze.
"I don't run either, Sassenach," he said gruffly. "Now, then. What does 'fucking' mean?"
My surprise must have shown plainly, for he said irritably, "If ye must call me names, that's one thing. But I dinna care to be called things I can't answer. I know it's a damn filthy word, from the way ye said it, but what does it mean?"
Taken off guard, I laughed, a little shakily. "It… it means… what you were about to do to me."
One brow lifted, and he looked sourly amused. "Oh, swiving? Then I was right; it is a damn filthy word. And what's a sadist? Ye called me that the other day."
I suppressed the urge to laugh. "It's, er, it's a person who… who, er, gets sexual pleasure from hurting someone." My face was crimsoning, but I couldn't stop the corners of my mouth from turning up slightly.
Jamie snorted briefly. "Well, ye dinna flatter me overmuch," he said, "but I canna fault your observations." He took a deep breath and leaned back, unclenching his hands. He stretched his fingers deliberately, then laid his hands flat on his knees and looked directly at me.
"What is it, then? Why are ye doing this? The girl? I've told ye the plain truth there. But it's not a matter for proof. It's a question of whether ye believe me or no. Do ye believe me?"
"Yes, I believe you," I admitted grudgingly. "But that's not it. Or not all of it," I added, in an attempt at honesty. "It's… I think it's finding that you married me for the money you'd get." I looked down, tracing the pattern of the quilt with my finger. "I know I've no right to complain—I married you for selfish reasons, too, but"—I bit my lip and swallowed to steady my voice—"but I have a small bit of pride, too, you know."
I stole a glance at him, and found him staring at me with an expression of complete dumbfoundedness. "Money?" he said blankly.
"Yes, money!" I blazed, angered at his pretense of ignorance. "When we came back, you couldn't wait to tell Colum you were married and collect your share of the MacKenzie rents!"
He stared at me for a moment longer, mouth opening gradually as though to say something. Instead, he began to shake his head slowly back and forth, and then began to laugh. He threw his head back and roared, in fact, then sank his head between his hands, still laughing hysterically. I flung myself back on the pillows in indignation. Funny, was it?
Still shaking his head and wheezing intermittently, he stood up and set hands to the buckle of his belt. I flinched involuntarily as he did so, and he saw it.
Face still flushed with a mixture of anger and laughter, he looked down at me in total exasperation. "No," he said dryly, "I dinna mean to beat you. I gave ye my word I'd not do so again—though I didna think I'd regret it quite so soon." He laid the belt aside, groping in the sporran attached to it.
"My share of the MacKenzie rents comes to about twenty pounds a quarter, Sassenach," he said, digging through the oddments inside the badgerskin. "And that's Scots, not sterling. About the price of half a cow."
"That's… that's all?" I said stupidly. "But—"
"That's all," he confirmed. "And all I ever will have from the MacKenzies. Ye'll have noticed Dougal's a thrifty man, and Colum's twice as tight-fisted wi' his coin. But even the princely sum of twenty pound a quarter is hardly worth marrying to get, I should think," he added sarcastically, eyeing me.
"I wouldna have asked for it straightaway, at that," he added, bringing out a small paper-wrapped parcel, "but there was something I wanted to buy with it. That's where my errand took me; meeting Laoghaire was an accident."
"And what did you want to buy so much?" I asked suspiciously.
He sighed and hesitated for a moment, then tossed the small package lightly into my lap.
"A wedding ring, Sassenach," he said. "I got it from Ewen the armorer; he makes such things in his own time."
"Oh," I said in a small voice.