most families when invited to have their sons marry a woman like me. So, my uncle provided part and Duncan the other, in the hopes of marrying me off as quickly as possible.’
‘Ciara, you are hurt. Your words are from that anger.’ He knew it since he’d done the same thing since realising there was more between them than he’d thought or admitted before. He convinced himself that she would calm down, but her next words showed him otherwise.
‘They care not if I come to this marriage innocent or used.’
Tavis met her gaze and found it desolate. God help him, he wanted to wipe away the pain and hurt there. He was on his feet before he thought to move and sat next to her, gathering her in his arms to comfort her with nothing more than simple compassion as his intent.
He brushed the hair from her face as she cried against his chest. Though usually the most clear-thinking of lasses, this went deeper than simple insult. This would feed the need inside her now to believe she was worthless. Why had Duncan and Marian not prepared her for this? Regardless of orders to the contrary, Tavis knew what must be done.
‘I travelled with your father to negotiate a treaty with your uncle. It was my first time and I was so full of myself,’ he said, laughing a bit at the memory. ‘I was the youngest, yet even I had heard about the stories. Duncan warned us not to speak of such things since it was about the new laird’s sister.’
She stopped crying as hard then and Tavis knew she was listening.
‘Aye, the stories were bad, but even we knew they were not all true. Good stories seem to go their way, but bad ones grow as they’re passed and there was no doubt these had been.’
‘What had you heard?’ she whispered, tilting her back a bit so she could look at him.
‘Just what Lord Murray said—she was a whore, was in bed with a number of men, her father banished her for dishonouring her clan and that you were born.’
‘And Duncan married her?’
‘I was not privy to the more personal matters, but, aye, Duncan handfasted with her before we left Dunalastair and they had a church wedding the next spring. Your sister was born later that year.’
‘How did they keep this all secret from me, Tavis? If so many know, how did I not?’
‘Ah, lass. The first night when we arrived back in Lairig Dubh, when the hall was rife with gossip and all the stories, Connor made things very clear. He stood behind your mother and acknowledged her marriage to Duncan and claimed her for the clan MacLerie. Said any insult to her was an insult to all.’
‘And that was all he said?’ She leaned back now and he missed the warmth of her against him.
‘Ah, but Connor did it in his best beast of the Highlands voice. The one he uses to frighten people into obedience. No one dares the beast!’
‘Jocelyn does.’
‘She never believed the rumours about him being a murderous beast.’ He let those words hang in the silence between them, letting Ciara make the connection.
‘So you think my mother was not a whore? That these were all just rumours and stories?’ she asked. A hopeful tone filled her voice now and he feared giving her the wrong impression. Tavis did not know the truth about Marian before he met her. Her actions since that time were unquestionably honourable. Was that because she’d left behind her scandalous life that had led to the rumours?
‘Only your mother and Duncan know the truth of it, but soon after they handfasted, another clan came from a distance seeking the truth about you.’
‘Me?’ She sat back and shrugged. ‘Why would they ask?’
‘Rumours beget rumours and there were many about the old Robertson laird’s family. Duncan swore that you were hers before the whole clan and the other laird and claimed you as his own.’
Tavis did not need to tell her the whole of it for it would bring up more questions. Questions he could not answer. Damn Duncan and Marian for not explaining this all to her when she came to a marriageable age!
‘I have felt some of this all my life, Tavis. That I did not belong here. That I was not worthy. Now I understand why I am to be passed hand to hand—a bastard born of no family and wanted by none.’
There was an instant when he knew he should stop and simply return her to the house. When they should talk more in the cool light of the morn, but that moment passed by so quickly it did not hinder his next action at all. Tavis pulled her back into his arms, tilted her head with his hand and leaned his mouth to hers.
‘Never think that, Ciara. Never,’ he whispered as he kissed her and all his good intentions to show simple compassion were tossed asunder at the first touch of his mouth on hers.
He kissed her with all the longing in his body and heart. He kissed her with the respect and liking he felt for her. He kissed her for all the wanting and knowing he could never have her. He kissed her.
Not as a beginning as the young Murray had, but as an ending because her place, her life, would be here and not with him.
And though the way she whispered his name as he lifted his mouth from hers made him want to hear it again and again and to hear it whispered in the deepest moment of joining, he knew it for what it was—the last time he would hear it spoken in that manner. He righted her and then stood. Reaching down for the torch, he did the hardest thing he had ever done.
‘Come, Ciara,’ he said, holding out his hand to her. She touched her fingers to her lips and then met his gaze.
‘Where are you taking me, Tavis?’ she asked.
In words that would damn him in her eyes, he remembered his honour and hers and replied, ‘Back to the house. If Elizabeth comes looking for you, she will raise more questions.’
Her gazed narrowed and then her eyes widened and he knew the moment she understood. If she thought he was declaring his love for her, and he suspected that was exactly what she thought, this would end any dreams of such a thing happening.
‘But you kissed me. You want me,’ she challenged.
‘Aye, I do, but I cannot have you. Too much depends on this marriage of yours to the Murray heir. I will not dishonour your word or mine.’
She lifted her hand up to slap his face and he waited for the sting. He deserved it. Instead she placed it gently there and caressed his cheek. ‘He already thinks we have.’
Stunned by that, he stepped back and motioned to the path back to the gates. ‘I will not take that step, then, to confirm him right. You will prove him wrong on your wedding night,’ he said.
Confusion filled her gaze now and Tavis comprehended that any more words spoken would worsen the situation, not help it. As he guided her back to the gates and then waited in the shadows for her to go in alone, he cursed himself with every foul word he knew. He fought a battle within his soul over the right thing to do for her, for him and for what could not be between them. He was not worthy of her for so many reasons. Reasons that could not simply go away because he wanted her or he’d kissed her. Reasons that haunted his heart and soul every day that he drew breath. In the end, Tavis understood that he was damned, no matter what.
