‘I still believe it was deceitful of you to get me to agree to this,’ Mairead argued. Again.
She was making a mistake. But this time Mairead knew the enormity of her mistake and still she made it.
She couldn’t seem to stop herself.
However, for this last mistake she made, the Colquhoun was partly to blame. He just needed to agree with her.
Yet, Caird remained silent. As was his lifetime habit of control.
They’d travelled for days now, so she’d asked him about his need for silence and she understood now. Accepted it because she knew he couldn’t remain silent.
And she liked that she was responsible.
What she didn’t like was agreeing to take the jewel to Caird’s brother, Bram, the Laird of Clan Colquhoun, only to be told he wasn’t on Colquhoun land. That he was, in fact, on Fergusson land. Which was miles south. It would take a sennight or more to reach it.
As a result, she was only getting further away from her family. Her distress seemed to pain him, which she accepted as a partial apology. But he wouldn’t be swayed in letting her go.
In truth, she was beginning to believe if Caird was burdened with the jewel, she would be, too. That wasn’t all his fault. She also wanted the jewel’s mystery solved.
So they travelled south. At least now they had ample supplies, and were well rested. But as long as they travelled, they remained vulnerable. Caird never said, but he continued to sharpen swords and his eyes constantly scanned the terrain.
Yet, for every moment he watched, there were other moments where he touched. One horse carried the supplies, while they rode the other. Caird took every opportunity to caress, to kiss. Her body and skin were so sensitive, that only his look would send her blushing and wanting again.
Since that day in the village, she’d only encouraged their frequent stops.
‘I’m beginning to think you’ve been deceitful in other ways as well,’ she continued, trying to keep her thoughts together, something which wouldn’t happen if she thought about Caird’s caresses.
She felt him tense at her observation. He might not talk much, but he was a good listener.
‘In what ways?’ he asked.
‘You have too many secrets.’
‘Secrets?’
‘Aye, like the one where you said the wedding celebrations were for your sister, Gaira, but you wouldn’t tell me her husband’s name or why the celebrations were weeks after the wedding or why the celebrations weren’t on Colquhoun land.’
She straightened, warming up to her point in this conversation. ‘You also won’t tell me why Bram is on Fergusson land, or why he wasn’t attending the celebrations with you.’
They were getting close to Fergusson keep. She was running out of time for answers.
She wanted answers and she was reflecting again. Which meant she’d spent too much time with this Colquhoun.
She exhaled, knowing she had to say the last bit again. Had to make him understand. ‘And it’s a secret you keep from me about why your family hates Buchanans so much. Why Malcolm hates me in particular.’
That secret hatred was the reason she knew her travelling with Caird was a mistake. She would always be Buchanan and Caird’s family could never accept her. Although she and Caird shared something wondrous, she couldn’t see them sharing a life together.
Caird stopped the horse and she felt his fingers skim down her jaw and lift her eyes to him. She liked it when he did that. She didn’t like the doubt in his eyes.
‘We’re different, Mairead. This is different,’ he said. ‘I thought there was trust and...care between us.’
‘There is,’ she agreed. It was wondrous and overwhelming at the same time.
‘Then trust in this. They are not my stories to tell. They are Gaira’s and Malcolm’s, and I cannot tell you without them agreeing.’
Mairead heard the pain in his voice. She knew Caird hadn’t kept all his secrets. Since they’d left the village, he had told her how his sister, Irvette, had died during the English massacre at Doonhill. He hadn’t been there and none of his family could prevent it. She still had many questions but he couldn’t talk of it more.
Now, he asked her to go in to the unknown and trust him. But her trusting him didn’t stop her reflecting and worrying. And her not doubting him didn’t mean she didn’t still doubt herself.
‘I doona know the way of this,’ she said. ‘Can you tell me something? So that—’
He sighed. ‘It pains me not to tell you. But there were promises. I can answer some of your questions, but not all. Gaira’s wedding occurred in April before Dunbar. There wasn’t time to celebrate. Since Bram had...concerns on Fergusson land and because of their loss, the Graham clan requested to hold the celebrations there.’
This was more than he’d given her before, but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t know what Bram’s concerns were and she didn’t know who Gaira had married or why it was a secret. But if Caird was answering some of her questions, she had to ask the most important.
‘What of Malcolm?’
Caird stayed quiet and she felt him weigh her words. When his left thumb flexed she knew he’d decided.
‘Know that what happened to Malcolm and my family happened many years ago,’ he said. ‘It was permanent.’
He looked over her shoulder, but she saw the regret and grief before he hid it from her. ‘Malcolm may— It will take a long time for Malcolm to accept you. But my clan and family will accept you, on that you can trust.’
‘How do you know?’ she insisted.
Caird’s lips curved before he looked down at her. ‘They’ll accept you because of Gaira’s story.’
‘Ach! Gaira’s secret you mean.’ Mairead looked forward again and clamped down on the hornets beginning to swarm inside her. He told her much, but she didn’t know Gaira’s story, or Malcolm’s and Bram’s. She was tempted to use her elbows on the arrogant, overbearing Colquhoun. Very tempted. But then she realised something.
‘For one clan, you have many secrets,’ she said.
Caird didn’t say anything, but he started the horse again.
‘To keep these secrets, you must have to avoid telling the truth,’ she pointed out.
Caird made some sound in his throat, but she didn’t know if it was confirmation or denial.
She didn’t care. She knew the truth and she understood it very well. She was Buchanan after all.
‘Secrets, lies, deception,’ she continued. ‘I think you Colquhouns must be masters at them. Maybe you could even teach me your tricks.’
Caird gave a choked huff and she knew she surprised him. And when Caird laughed? He overwhelmed her.
Mairead settled against him with at least one reflective worry gone. Clan Colquhoun wasn’t going to be as overbearing and oppressive as she thought. ‘We need to stop for the night,’ he said, slowing the horse.
She didn’t protest. It was early yet, but they had run out of food and would need to trap more.
‘There are few trees here. Are you going to show me something new?’
‘Aye, and I think we’ll be walking far tonight.’ She heard the teasing smile in his voice.
‘I hope you’ll keep up this time,’ she retorted.
They had done this for days now. Taking walks with him showing her new ways to find trails and trap food. At first, he had taken care not to tire her, but she loved to walk Buchanan land. She wasn’t surprised to find he liked to walk as well. For her, it was a chance to keep occupied, for him, a chance for reflection. They had entered into a companionship she didn’t expect and she didn’t trust herself with.
She was being impulsive and she’d keep making mistakes. Like travelling south with this man and blindly trusting it would be fine. Caird seemed sure, but she wasn’t.
Because as much as Caird said he trusted her and cared for her, he never said he loved her. He never said what would happen once Bram decided what to do with the jewel.
Then there was Malcolm. Caird had all but admitted Malcolm might never accept her and they were close brothers.
Also, she didn’t know if by some future act she wouldn’t hurt him. She hurt everyone she loved. She didn’t, couldn’t, trust herself.
Still, she impulsively rode with him. Soon, she’d discover if it was another mistake.
* * *
The sounds of the village reached them before they crested the hill. The homes were scattered before becoming tightly packed. The single road was riddled with people and livestock. But it wasn’t the noises, the homes or the people that caught her eye. It was the contrast.
Stacked neatly around dilapidated homes and poorly clothed people were great sheets of thick thatch, bright rushes, freshly carved wooden beams and giant bolts of new wool.
The entire village looked as if a wealthy benefactor had come through and discarded much-needed supplies. Instead of using them, the villagers seemed to be going out of their way to ignore them.
Scampering children used them for their games, shepherds navigated animals around heavily laden carts and some villagers leaned against stacks of thatch as if they were boulders. One large-boned robust woman walked over a bolt of green wool as if it wasn’t even there. Mairead longed for a fitted gown with no holes. If it rained again, the wool could be ruined.
The keep rose in the distance, low buildings around it, many people, maybe a hundred, in front. As they approached, she saw various tents, and soldiers, who were either idling or training.
Soon it became apparent why there were people and soldiers outside. The gates were closed.
Caird had told her that Bram had concerns on Fergusson land. But if he was barred from the keep, it seemed Bram had more than a mere concern on his hands.
With no room to manoeuvre, Caird slowed the horses and helped her dismount. They had pushed the last of their journey and her legs were unsteady and sore.
Someone took their horses as Caird took her hand and led her towards the gates. She wondered at the futility of it.
‘They’re closed.’ She pulled up her gown, which only made it gape more. The villager’s gown hadn’t fit.
‘Hmm.’ Caird pointed. ‘And my brother trains before them.’
Even if Caird hadn’t pointed, there would be no missing his brother. If Caird’s hair showed slight red only in the brightest sunlight, Bram’s would show red even at night. Its intense bright colour waved down to his shoulders. For ornamentation, a small plaited strip fell far over to the middle of his chest.
He was one of the few training, but as they approached, he lowered his sword and gave them a smile. Despite his commanding presence and build, he looked tired. His fine clothing was unkempt and filthy. Bram handed his sword to a soldier, who left the crooked circle they’d made.
‘I had not expected you here so soon,’ Bram said as they reached him, ‘but I welcome the company.’
Caird returned his brother’s hug.
‘Have you heard from the north?’ Caird asked. He had left the elders in charge when he travelled to Graham land.
‘I’d received a message two days past. All’s well.’
Caird gestured at the men outside the closed gate. ‘What happens here?’
‘I’ve been waiting,’ Bram said.
‘All this time?’ Caird asked, incredulously.
‘Aye, our brother has turned as weak as a Buchanan.’
They all turned at the voice.
Malcolm approached, his eyes not hiding his contempt for Mairead.
Bram scowled. ‘It is not weakness, but tactics.’
Malcolm shrugged. ‘Starving a woman, and her annoying siblings, is hardly a battle worthy of the Colquhoun Clan.’
‘You lay siege here?’ Caird looked aghast at his brother. ‘Against children?’
Caird didn’t know what to expect as he approached the Ferguson keep. Gates closed and soldiers idle certainly wasn’t one of them. He even spotted Colquhoun’s best craftsmen here playing dice. Now this? Bram was the better natured of the siblings, quicker to laugh than his sister. He was here to make amends to the Fergusson Clan, not torture them.
‘Tactics, not a siege.’ Bram’s eyes darted to the keep before returning to Caird’s. ‘And not only children. There is a woman.’
Caird looked pointedly at the partially wooden keep. As he stared, a lean figure emerged at the top of the gates.
The distance wasn’t far. With shorn hair and wearing a tunic and leggings, the person should have been a young man. But the wind left no doubt a woman stood there.
‘That lass bars you?’ Caird asked.
Bram quickly swung around and became almost deathly still. The camp stilled, too. ‘We will come to an understanding soon,’ Bram whispered, his eyes never leaving the woman’s.
Caird watched Bram’s assessment change, his demeanour switch from congenial to predatory. He had seen his brother like this when he hunted bigger game. Only then did Bram become silent...and deadly.
But it was clear the woman was no prey. Her shoulders were back and her eyes bore down on them. They both held themselves like two hunters waiting to strike.
‘I allow this respite, for now.’ Bram’s eyes never left the woman’s, as if they silently communicated. ‘I’ll not have more reason for her...them...to hate me.’
The figure descended as quietly as she had come and the camp exhaled a collective breath.
‘Perhaps, but vexing all the same.’ Malcolm turned to address Caird. ‘You have arrived, but it has been longer than a fortnight.’
‘How went the celebrations?’ Caird asked.
‘You were not there, and I was amply occupied,’ Malcolm said, shrugging. ‘John and...’ Malcolm’s eyes darted to Mairead ‘...the groom won most everything. How did you fair?’
‘We still have it,’ Caird said.
Malcolm’s eyes changed. ‘It wasn’t returned to her brother? How surprising.’
‘What is this you speak of?’ Bram asked.
Caird was surprised. ‘You have not told him?’
‘I did not know which tale to tell,’ Malcolm said calmly.
Caird ignored Malcolm and turned to Bram. ‘I have private news only for my brothers’ ears.’
‘There is nowhere for my men to go. I’m afraid this is it for privacy,’ Bram answered.
Caird knew this was not nearly private enough, but his brother was entrenched. He could delay no longer. ‘I have the—’
‘Wait,’ Malcolm interrupted. ‘You tell this in front of her?’ He nodded in Mairead’s direction.
‘Aye,’ Caird replied.
Malcolm’s demeanour blackened as he addressed Bram. ‘I want it noted, my laird, I protest this tale told in front of her.’
Caird didn’t know how Bram was reacting to this conversation, but he didn’t have time to mend Malcolm’s feelings. ‘She has my trust,’ Caird announced.
‘So be it.’ Bram’s eyes travelled from Malcolm to Caird. ‘I want this tale told.’
‘It is neither tale nor legend,’ Caird replied, and then he spoke of the jewel. Malcolm remained silent, as did Bram. Surprisingly, so did Mairead.
As he listened, Bram’s expression changed, and when Caird finished, Bram only replied, ‘So close.’ But he said it softly, almost to himself.
The siege and unrest were now apparent on Bram’s face, the jewel’s responsibility seemingly ageing him between breaths.
Giving his brother time to assess, Caird looked around them. Everything appeared the same, but he knew everything had changed for Bram and his clan.
When Caird made the gesture to open the pouch at his waist, Bram stilled his hand. ‘Nae, not here. In fact, I doona want to see it.’
Mairead had been silent as Caird told his version of their journey. He left out many details, but never, she was beginning to understand, the important ones.
Yet now, Bram didn’t even want to see the jewel?
‘Why?’ Mairead asked before she could check her response. They had risked their lives. The least he could do was look at it. ‘You have to see it!’
Bram looked to Caird. ‘Impulsive female.’
Caird nodded.
‘But yours,’ Bram said.
‘Aye,’ Caird answered.
‘What?’ Mairead blurted out.
‘Never!’ Malcolm said, his casual stance gone. Incredulity and anger tightened his body. ‘She’s a Buchanan!’
Bram stilled and turned to her.
Reeling from Caird’s declaration, Mairead braced herself. Bram was laird. He could make decisions regarding her life. ‘I am Mairead, of Clan Buchanan,’ she said, hoping her voice could be heard above the roaring in her ears.
Had Caird just declared to his brother they were betrothed? They had only talked of caring and trust. Was he now proposing marriage? His family hadn’t accepted her!
His expression inscrutable, his gaze swinging from Caird to Malcolm, Bram replied, ‘I see.’
Mairead glanced at Caird, who watched his brother. Mairead didn’t need to turn to see Malcolm. She could feel the sharp look he placed between her shoulders.
‘And you’re here now, with these matters,’ Bram said.
The laird made decisions, but he didn’t know everything. ‘Aye, but reluctantly,’ she answered.
‘Nae doubt,’ Bram agreed as he glanced at Caird. ‘But on everything?’
Blushing, Mairead glanced to the gates. The woman had returned. Mairead felt as if she was intently listening to this conversation. She hoped she couldn’t hear her humiliation.
‘Nae,’ she answered. ‘Not reluctant on everything.’
‘I didn’t think so.’ Bram turned to Malcolm. ‘She is Buchanan, but she risked much with Caird. Some debts can be forgiven.’
‘Do you expect me to accept?’ Malcolm asked.
She didn’t understand any of this, but she knew by being here she brought discord to this family. She was making a mistake, just as she feared. She couldn’t do it.
‘There’s nothing to accept,’ Mairead said. ‘We brought this jewel here for the laird to decide. I can return to my home. Any debt to me for my troubles was already made in payment to my clan.’
There, she had said it and she did it without her voice breaking.
Caird made a gruff sound next to her and she glanced at him. Was amusement in his eyes?
‘There, now!’ she gestured towards the arrogant man. ‘Caird doesn’t deny the deal we made. I’ll be gone soon, just as I tried to be weeks ago!’
Bram made a sound, too, and it sounded like a swallowed chuckle. ‘Nae,’ he said finally.
‘Nae?’ she questioned, irritated. ‘You cannot deny payment. I earned it. Since it’s already in Buchanan hands, I’d like to see you try to get it back!’
‘Nae, Buchanan, you keep your payment. Your story tells of much valour, honour and bravery.’ Bram’s eyes softened. ‘Such a journey also tells of my brother’s desire to marry you.’
‘Nae!’ Malcolm cried.
‘What?’ Mairead gasped at the same time. ‘We do what?’
Caird turned to her. ‘We marry.’
‘I agree,’ Bram said, patting Caird’s shoulder. ‘Soon. Today.’
‘How could you?’ Malcolm moved in front of Mairead and closer to Bram. ‘You cannot wish this!’
‘About this marriage?’ Bram said. ‘Or our sister’s? It has taught our clan much.’ He glanced to the closed gates and to the woman watching. His frown increased. ‘And keeps on teaching us,’ he said slowly.
‘You compare Gaira’s marriage to this?’ Malcolm paled, his scar standing in stark relief. ‘Knowing I still haven’t accepted hers?’
‘As laird, I order it.’ Bram’s face became forbidding. ‘You must remember this.’
Malcolm’s eyes went cold. ‘I remember...everything!’
Bram reached for Malcolm’s shoulder, but he shrugged off the comforting hand.
‘Wait!’ Mairead cried out. ‘I doona understand this.’
‘You won’t until you are married,’ Bram said.
‘I trust her,’ Caird said, his voice rough; he didn’t like this edict.
‘But it is not our tale to tell,’ Bram said. ‘I’ll have them sisters first.’
Bram stepped towards Malcolm. ‘You need time, Brother. So it is you who will be taking the jewel to where it belongs.’
Caird shifted and Bram’s eyes went to him. ‘Do you have objections?’
Caird’s eyes lingered on Mairead. She couldn’t comprehend everything he was silently asking her, but she did understand most. He worried for his brother, and worried for her. But would he let the jewel go after all they did to secure it?
Caird released her eyes and looked to Bram. ‘Malcolm should have it. He should find where it belongs.’
Her jaw dropped, just as Malcolm’s defeat quickly turned to derision.
‘There is nowhere it goes then,’ Malcolm answered. ‘It is homeless, just as I am.’
Bram made a sound deep in his chest. ‘You are not without a home.’
‘Nae?’ Rigidity returned to Malcolm’s shoulders. ‘You say this as you send me on a fool’s errand to remove me from this clan.’
‘It’s not like that,’ Bram said. ‘Later, we will talk of the jewel.’
‘It’s exactly like that.’ Malcolm stepped back. ‘Despite this talk, I will choose what to do with the jewel.’ Not waiting for approval, Malcolm turned to leave.
‘Malcolm!’ Mairead called, not knowing what she wanted to say.
He stopped and looked over his shoulder.
Mairead felt helpless again. She could sense Malcolm’s pain and it hurt. But she couldn’t apologise because she didn’t know what to apologise for. But she wanted to say...do...something.
Malcolm glared at Caird. ‘You didn’t tell her?’
Caird gave a quick shake of his head.
‘Your adherence to rules, and promises, and vows,’ Malcolm sneered. ‘Well, know I’m about to break every one of them. Tell her!’ He gestured to Mairead, but didn’t look at her. ‘Tell her every blood-ridden drop of it.’
When Malcolm turned to leave again, they let their brother go.
* * *
Seeming to get his emotions under control, Bram addressed them. ‘I will go after him,’ Bram said. ‘But I have more to say.’
Mairead waited for the truth to finally come out, for some sense of reality.
Bram clasped his hands behind his back. ‘My stay here may be extended.’
Caird shifted. ‘You already appointed me in your absence.’
‘Aye. But negotiations have taken longer than expected.’ Bram shrugged. ‘The hunting is good here though.’
Bram’s favourite pastime was hunting, as was all varied and leisure activities. Here, there were only responsibilities. The skills his brother did have, his renowned diplomacy and profit-making abilities, were clearly scorned by the keep’s mistress and villagers. Bram belonged on Colquhoun land.
‘You are my older brother and Laird of Clan Colquhoun,’ Caird insisted. ‘It’s not like you to remain idle for this long.’
‘Not idle. You’d be pleased to know, I’ve been gathering answers. This clan has been much abused. I could not force myself on them again.’
‘Your diplomacy has not worked here though; they bar you.’
‘Aye, but not for long. Negotiations are about to change.’ Bram looked to the keep.
Caird recognised his brother’s resolved tone. He’d argue no longer.
‘I will leave you to talk now.’ Bram lips curved. ‘Just stay far away from the keep’s walls.’
When Bram left, Mairead knew the world was different. She just didn’t understand to what extent.
‘What is the meaning of all this?’ she said. ‘I doona ken. I cannot marry you. Your clan will never accept me.’
‘My clan just did,’ he said. ‘They will accept Bram’s word and they will accept mine. It’s those secrets, Mairead. You will know them now.’
‘What of the jewel? Why did you let it go?’ she asked, too flustered to disagree with the other part.
His brows drawn, his eyes questioning. As if he wanted to say something and then thought better of it.
‘I only ever wanted the jewel for Malcolm. To never have a repeat of Dunbar. He is owed the right to have it. Bram and he will talk and they will find its true path.’
‘It didn’t look like they would talk.’
His lip curled. ‘They will talk. Whether Malcolm will listen, or whether Bram will finally reveal why he denied his brothers’ fighting in Dunbar, I doona know.’
‘You won’t have your answers.’
‘Not for now,’ he said. ‘But as always, my brothers will have my loyalty.’
Rules, adherence. For loyalty to his clan, he would let the jewel go. But that still didn’t explain why he looked to her when he did it.
‘You look doubtful,’ he added. ‘The jewel has been dangerous for us. It has repeatedly threatened your life. Can you think of nae other reason why I’d willingly let it go?’
Had he thought she’d protest? She had only ever wanted the dagger.
‘You sent the dagger to my clan,’ she said. ‘But I doona know if it is enough, or if the laird will allow them to stay.’
He tilted his head. ‘I sent a letter with the dagger giving them sanctuary on Colquhoun land. I also sent a letter to Colquhoun elders to send a chest of silver to your laird. One or the other will be there before the English.’
She’d forgotten how rich the Colquhouns were. But still it was a debt she couldn’t repay, and her clan... ‘You’d allow the Buchanan laird to claim both?’
‘I requested the chest to be used first, and that we would expect the dagger when we return.’
‘Return?’
‘Aye, in the letter I explained much, Mairead. They know you are safe, that they are safe as well.’
She blinked, breathed in deeply and took some steps, but she couldn’t pace. They were alone, but not far away were men and soldiers. She had to stay and face Caird.
‘What of Malcolm?’ She locked her knees and tried to still the tiny trembles in her body.
‘Why are you questioning?’ he asked.
Her throat suddenly dry, she licked her lips. He was taking away all her arguments against him, until she was only left with accepting him. Could she?
‘Mairead, you are throwing questions, like obstacles, at me. Why now?’
She feared she felt something more than trust and care with Caird. She couldn’t have something more. Especially now, when she knew she couldn’t stay with him. After everything he had risked for his brother, she wouldn’t come between them.
‘I won’t come between brothers,’ Mairead said.
Caird looked over her shoulder. ‘We all have our own paths, our own purpose in this. Malcolm must have his own.’ His all-too-knowing eyes returned to hers. ‘This cannot be why you question me.’
‘I’m Buchanan,’ she said. She did, indeed, feel like she was throwing obstacles against him.
‘It couldn’t be more wondrous,’ he said. ‘Lying, taunting, beckoning and deceiving me since that night at the inn. But all of it, all you have done was with purpose.’ He took a step towards her. ‘Now, I want that purpose to be with me.’
‘Did Gaira marry a Buchanan? Is that why nae one will say his name, and why you are so certain in this?’
He gave a curt shake of his head. ‘You won’t get that secret so easily. But know that Gaira’s marriage is...complicated.’ He gave her a knowing look. ‘And I believe I’m finding out that marrying a Buchanan will produce its own demands.’
She swallowed. ‘Do I have nae say in this?’
‘You always did.’
Oh, those beautiful grey eyes storming with green. They were beautiful, but there were dark shadows beneath them and his cheeks were hollowed from the lack of food. They’d had little rest since he’d tended her. Yet, he was giving her a choice. How much it probably pained the arrogant Colquhoun to concede anything.
And how much she loved that he conceded to her. Loved. Now she realised why she threw obstacles at him. Because she’d made another mistake.
She loved him.
She must. But loving him, staying with him, would mean another mistake. She’d only hurt him. Anguish, shame and guilt lashed at her. She hadn’t the strength for anger.
So the words that needed to be said couldn’t be simply thrown at him. They had to be wrenched from her, like that knife she’d buried inside her.
‘How can I do it?’ she whispered.
Caird held still, but she knew he felt her words.
‘Mairead?’ he asked, not saying anything more, but not needing to.
She blinked away the threatening tears. She wanted—needed—to see him clearly. He had to know; he had to realise.
‘I make mistakes. I make them constantly. Impulsively. With Ailbert, with everything. I doona trust myself; I never have! So how could I with you?’
Caird’s eyes closed and his left thumb flexed. And again.
She said something he didn’t like, but she didn’t know what and she wasn’t done with what needed to be said. ‘You’re asking for me to trust you, I do, but how can I be with you, marry you, knowing I’ll just hurt you?’
When he opened his eyes, he looked pained. ‘Are you saying that what has kept us apart is not your trusting me?’
Trusting him had never been an issue. How could she not trust an arrogant, all-knowing Colquhoun? ‘Mostly.’
Caird’s eyes turned from hurt to incredulous. ‘Then this fighting me has been because you doona trust yourself...with me?’
She nodded her head. ‘I may hurt you. I have feelings. I doona understand them, or if they’re real or just me being impulsive again. That’s when I make mistakes. We went through so much and it could be you or—’
He held her to him. ‘Does this feel like a mistake?’
She was engulfed in Caird’s warmth, comfort, scent, which had always felt right. ‘None of this feels like a mistake,’ she answered truthfully. ‘But that may be my mistake.’
‘You think I doona make any?’ he answered.
It was her turn to be quiet.
‘I’ve risked your life many times since we met. I regret all those mistakes. I know there is still a murderer out there, who, even if we nae longer have the jewel, may come for our lives. I was careless with the defeat of the soldiers. One archer was left free. Those days of caring for you, I never knew if an arrow would come for us.’
It would always unsettle him that the archer and the Englishman were free. He didn’t have the answers he sought and they would always be in some danger.
‘They were circumstances you couldn’t control.’
‘I could have controlled my blindness with you. Seen who you were long before we ever reached the river, the cave, the village.’
‘The jewel was important. You were worried about your brother.’
‘You make excuses for me, but none for yourself.’ His eyes were insistent. ‘We’ll make mistakes, both of us, but we’ll learn. Mairead, you have to forgive yourself. Your brother’s death wasn’t your fault.’
Grief, quick and fierce, pierced and freed itself from her heart. She buried her face in Caird’s tunic. She wouldn’t be able to hold her tears in. Not now.
Warm arms folded around her. ‘Not your fault,’ he whispered as her tears coursed silent and unstoppable. But Caird was there giving comfort and strength, and when she could, she raised her face to him.
‘I can’t think—’
‘Not now.’ His hands cradled her face; his thumbs brushed tears she couldn’t seem to stop. ‘Not now, but give it time. Let’s learn this together.’
Trying to make her tone light, she asked, ‘Are you saying you’ve forgiven yourself for how you treated me?’
He huffed and rested his hands on her shoulders before they slid around her again. ‘Nae, but I’ll learn to cherish you and protect you. And that means your family as well.’
‘My family?’
‘Aye, your mother and giggling sisters. We’ll see them, Mairead, as soon as we can travel.’
She felt those words and she realised the truth of it. This man was dependable like a mountain. If he said they’d see her family, they would. She had fought it long enough, and, wrapped as she was within his arms, she didn’t want to fight it any longer.
But something inside her still resisted him so she shook her head. ‘I may hurt you.’
‘Stubborn,’ he said, his voice gruff with emotion. His arms tightened and drew her to him. ‘There’s only one way to hurt me now, Mairead. And that’s if you keep us apart.’
She felt those words and they wrapped warmth deeper than Caird’s arms. They wrapped warmth around her very heart.
He pulled slightly away and lifted her chin with his finger until their eyes met. ‘But I need answers,’ he said.
Greedy Colquhoun. She gave a quick nod.
‘Is it possible,’ he said, ‘I didn’t need to show you...to the extent I did...the trust you have for me?’
She blushed, as she always did remembering that morning at the village. When Caird had shown her, in the most giving way possible, how she’d trusted him all along. Keeping her smile hidden, she gave a quick shake of her head.
He swallowed, hard, as if afraid of the next answer. ‘Then we merely had to talk about your doubting and trusting yourself with me?’
‘Maybe,’ she answered.
He groaned. She smiled; she couldn’t help it. Caird’s face looked both pained and relieved.
‘Mairead, you almost killed me that day. My body still hasn’t been set right. It’s the reason we’ve been—’ He stopped, and she could have sworn he blushed.
Caird hadn’t had enough of her that day and she hadn’t had enough of him. She welcomed his touches and kisses and honeyed words.
‘Do you mean you would have left me alone on the journey here?’ she asked.
‘Aye! That day at the village, I would have shown you our trust, Mairead, but not to the extent... You were a maid; it was too much. After, you needed rest. Instead, my body wouldn’t let me stop touching you. I may never stop touching you.’
Mairead couldn’t believe his confession. The day at the village had been wondrous as had every day after that. Because she had been with him.
Something eased within her; the final defence against him had always been herself. Now, with his confession, that barrier was gone. Because she just had proof she could trust herself with Caird. With that trust, she could love.
‘Ach, then that’s two mistakes I didn’t make,’ she said.
‘Two?’
‘Aye. The first is going to your room at the inn,’ she confessed and revelled in the warmth of his gaze.
‘And the second?’
‘When I wasn’t exactly truthful—’ she made sure to lower her voice as she trailed her fingers up his chest ‘—about my trusting you.’
‘Deceitful Buchanans. All of you.’ He gave her a squeeze. ‘If I didn’t love you—’
She started. ‘Love?’
He looked down at her. ‘Aye, love. Clever Buchanan, how could you not guess? It’s always been love. Our caring, our trust. Those feelings you have and doona trust yourself with? I have them, too. It’s love. And I trust it most of all.’
Her tightly wrapped and warmed heart soared even as she emphatically shook her head ensuring he saw her denial at his words. Oh, she did love this man. But he had to know he was marrying a Buchanan.
‘You doubt it’s love?’ His brows drew together then rose in realisation as his eyes gleamed with determination. ‘You’re not going to make me show you, are you?’
She smiled. She couldn’t help it. Even though she was supposed to be the better liar.
And because it was him, she answered the only way she could. ‘Ach, I believe I have some doubts.’
* * ***
Read on for an extract from THE COUNTESS AND THE COWBOY by Elizabeth Lane.