style="font-size:15px;"> Ciara did not remember this at all. Too young to realise the true intimacy between a man and his wife. ‘What happened?’
‘I swore to keep her safe. I swore she would not die, I would not let her die.’ He shook his head again, but did not meet her gaze then. ‘Connor asked me to see to a task for him that would take me from the village for a day, maybe two, and I accepted the assignment. I could have assigned someone else, knowing how frightened Saraid was—I should have. But, sweet Christ, I needed to be away from her for a short time. I could not breathe, I could not …’
He walked over and splashed more ale in a cup for himself and drank it down. She could feel the pain pouring out of him with each passing moment. He was reliving this dark time in the telling of it.
‘We argued. We argued badly and I left her behind. Told her I would be back whenever I got back,’ he admitted in a tortured voice. ‘I did not know … I had no idea …’ He ran his hand through his hair and stared at her with bleak eyes. ‘I goaded her into something she should not have done.’
Ciara went to him, kneeling before him and taking his hand in hers. He needed to tell this and release the pain he carried deep, deep inside.
‘I carried out my duty. It was a day’s ride away. I was returning when I found her.’
‘You found her? Where was she?’
‘Her pains began after our argument. Instead of calling for the midwife or one of the women, she got on a horse and followed me. She caught up with me a few hours from here and I was still angry. I ordered her off, demanded she return here without hearing her out and then I rode off full of my own bluster and rage.
‘By the time I returned and found her there on the ground the next day, she’d bled so much there was nothing I could do for her.’
‘Tavis, it was not your fault,’ she said firmly. ‘You did not cause her death.’
‘But I did, Ciara. If I’d been more attentive. If I’d listened. If I had stayed. If I’d ridden back with her and saw to her safety, she might be alive today.’
‘That is something that only the Almighty decides, Tavis. Not us. She could have died in childbirth, too. Would that have been your fault?’
‘I gave her my word! Do you not understand? I swore an oath to keep her safe and I rode away.’ His hands shook as much as his voice did. ‘She would have had a chance if not for me and my anger. If not for me …’
He had played a part in Saraid’s death, if he’d acted as he’d just described, but Ciara thought the ending might have been the same no matter what help he offered or what he did. Tavis was too controlled by his guilt and pain to accept any truth that might include his own vindication, but mayhap he would when he thought on it.
Later.
Later, when he considered the error in his decision not to put the past behind him and ignore a future he, they, could share. Or later when he learned how to forgive himself for his failings.
She stood and put her shawl up to cover her head for the walk back to Elizabeth’s cottage. Well, not really to her cottage, for Elizabeth did not know of her plans this night. No one did. She would sleep in the small barn next to Elizabeth’s and then return to her parents’ house in the morning—none the wiser of what she’d done or where she’d been.
‘I know it is too late for us, but I beg you to speak to the midwife, Gunna. She saw Saraid frequently and has a different view of things. It might help you forgive yourself.’
He was too steeped in the pain of dragged-up memories to hear anything else. ’Twas only then that she noticed the small piece of wood on the hearth’s shelf. Picking it up, she recognised the shape—a heart. Instead of a horse, he’d carved something of himself for her to keep with her always. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she shook her head and walked to the doorway.
‘Farewell, Tavis,’ she whispered as she closed her fingers around the precious keepsake. Ciara opened the door and pulled it closed behind her and ran off down the path.
She found the barn and sneaked inside to hide for the rest of the night. Pressing herself against one wall, she wrapped the shawl around her and waited for the tears to flow.
But they did not. Instead memories of the wondrous passion they’d shared flooded back and she knew she’d done the right thing. Now, at least she could have those memories and this treasured reminder from him while she lived the life of the contented wife of James Murray.
Chapter Nineteen
The next day dawned cloudy and grey and Tavis thought it appropriate, for it matched his mood. She’d left and he sat in the chair the rest of the night, thinking about Saraid.
Not what he wanted to be thinking about.
He wanted to relive the memories of bringing Ciara to life under his mouth and with the touch of his hands. He wanted to remember the sighs and the moans and the breathless way she said his name as she found repletion. He wanted to think about the way she learned what pleased him so quickly and how she managed to bring him to climax with little more than a touch of her mouth or her hands.
Instead, every single mistake he’d made with Saraid, every mean word and thought, repeated in his head all night long. Her fears that swallowed up the woman he’d fallen in love with. Her incessant demands that drove him mad. Her desperation that increased day by day and that he could not seem to resolve. No amount of reassurance had helped. And no matter what Ciara thought, he was the cause of it.
His selfishness in needing to get away from her.
His negligence in taking her fears seriously.
His inability to care for her and to protect her from the one thing she feared most: dying.
He’d failed as a husband and as a man and Saraid had died as a result of it. Would it happen again if he allowed himself to love another? Was it a terrible flaw in his character or had he simply failed once?
He moved through the day barely aware of the goings-on around him. He finished the tasks he needed to see to and decided it was as good a time as any to speak to Connor about leaving Lairig Dubh. Connor agreed to meet him after the midday meal and invited him to join them. There would be no elaborate evening meal this night since preparations were going on for the marriage feast on the morrow.
Connor grimaced after saying it, but Tavis simply nodded and agreed to come back later. He filled the time with training even though the skies opened and it rained for several hours. He did not really feel it and did not feel much of anything this day. The only thing in his favour was that he did not see her at all this day.
He climbed the stairs to Connor’s chamber and found him in the middle of an argument with his wife. He could not make out the words and was waiting for things to calm inside before making his presence known, but Rurik walked up behind him and knocked.
‘That could go on for some time, lad. We do not want to wait here forever,’ Rurik advised.
Since he reported to Rurik and
