Chapter 28
28
“ O ver me dead body,” a deep voice echoed through the house.
Ceana looked up to see Neil’s large body filling the front doorway. Relief shot through her instantly as he caught Ferguson’s arm in midair and pushed him back with such force that he stumbled over his feet and fell on his arse.
“Are ye all right?”
Ceana had never been better than she was right now.
Not only was she beyond grateful to her husband for showing up at the exact moment she realized she was in real danger, but she now had the pleasure of witnessing Ferguson falling on his arse. That would be an image she would happily replay in her mind any time she wished to.
“Aye,” she whispered.
The moment she told Neil that she was all right, he rounded on Ferguson. There was something dark in his eyes, something that thrilled and frightened her at the same time.
“Ye’re a dead man for threatenin’ me wife,” he spat.
Ferguson attempted to crawl away from him, wanting to put as much space between them as possible.
Ceana didn’t look away. She didn’t so much as turn her head for a moment. If he was going to die, then she was going to witness every second of it. For everything that he had done to her family, all of the pain that he had caused her parents and, most of all, her mother, it was the very least he deserved.
“M’Laird, have mercy! Wait! Wait a moment. M’Laird—please, please!” Ferguson begged as he scrambled back on his arse in an attempt to flee.
But Neil had already drawn his sword. He pointed the tip of the blade at Ferguson’s chest, and Ceana would be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy that part just a little bit more than she should. She couldn’t help herself.
Neil turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Does this man deserve mercy despite the pain he’s caused?” he asked, putting Feguson’s life in her hands.
Ceana stood tall, her chin raised as she looked down at the man who had haunted them for years, who had attempted to steal from them everything they held dear. “Nay, he doesnae.”
Neil nodded once as if that was all he needed to know and drove his sword into the man’s chest.
Ferguson wheezed, a look of pure shock on his face that whatever foolish plans he had made had failed him in the end. Ceana only wished she had the courage to finish him off years ago.
Neil pulled back his sword, wiped the blade, and then resheathed it.
A moment later, Ersie burst through the front door, and she gasped at the sight of Neil standing over Ferguson’s dead body.
For a moment, Ceana could have sworn that her friend was going to laugh at the sight.
But Ersie schooled her features and nodded once. “I came to check on Ceana as soon as Jeanie fell asleep, but, uh… I’d better take care of this, M’Laird.”
Neil merely nodded and held out his hand to Ceana, but she didn’t take it. He furrowed his brow.
She wasn’t ready for that, not yet. She had just watched him kill a man. A very bad man, granted, but that didn’t erase the bigger issue between them. Why was he even here?
Ceana walked out the front door, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were trying to hide from the world. Neil followed her, just as she wanted him to.
The two of them walked in silence for a while until she was certain they were alone.
“Why are ye here?”
Seeing the timing, Neil certainly hadn’t come here because of Ferguson or the nonsense he had always pulled. He couldn’t have possibly known that she needed help.
He looked hesitant, but she gave him time to think.
“I, uh… Well, I came to talk to ye.”
“About?” she prompted.
She wasn’t about to accept only half-answers or assumed responses either. Her heart was far too hurt for that.
“Are ye truly goin’ to make me say it?” Neil sighed.
Ceana nodded.
It would do him some good to be a bit more uncomfortable after everything that had happened. Perhaps he needed to be humbled in the first place. She wasn’t going to wait around for him forever. If he wanted her badly enough, he would say something.
“I came here to ask ye to… come home.”
“Careful, that little vein in yer forehead looks about to pop,” Ceana answered. “Besides, I am home.”
Neil’s expression shifted to one of shock for a fraction of a second before he schooled it again. “Nay, this isnae yer home. Come back to our castle.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I didnae give ye permission to leave!” he practically barked.
Ceana laughed—she couldn’t help herself.
“Ach, right. And are ye givin’ me orders as yer wife or one of yer clansfolk? Because I dinnae remember askin’ for yer permission for a damn thing.”
“Ye shouldnae be here! That man was goin’—”
“I wouldnae have been here if ye hadnae pushed me away! Ye’re always pushin’ me away!”
Ceana realized that she was shouting and paused. There was no point in walking away from the village if they were going to be overheard anyway.
“I behaved… poorly, I can admit to that.” Neil raked his hand through his hair, struggling to form the words. “I’ve never had to say things like this before. I’m out of me depth here.”
“Well, it’s satisfyin’ to watch ye struggle, M’Laird. Do continue.”
Perhaps she was being a bit too mean.
She shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other and huffed. “Are ye all right?”
“What? Och, because of that giant oaf? Please.” Neil looked at her as if she was crazy to think that a weasel like Ferguson could wind him. “I’m… sorry for what I said, all right? I was upset, but that doesnae give me the right to take me anger out on ye.”
“That is right, it doesnae,” she interjected. “I willnae tolerate disrespect from ye. Laird or nae.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“Sorry means nothing if ye dinnae trust me, M’Laird.”
She could see that calling him by his title instead of his name was getting under his skin. Good. Perhaps it would be enough to make him realize that he couldn’t have it both ways. He could have a marriage of convenience, and she could remain detached and formal, be his wife in public… and nothing else. That was what he wanted, after all.
Or, he could have a wife who called him by his name. He could have the warmth they had shared that night, but she would be his equal. She didn’t want anything less than that. It was what her heart wanted. She wanted to be with him, but the fine line they were toeing where he was affectionate one moment and stoic the next… She couldn’t do that. That was no life.
“I do trust ye, Ceana. I was wrong to say that to ye. I’ll do whatever I need to, to prove that to ye. Come back home, and I’ll tell ye everything,” Neil pleaded softly, stepping toward her with his arms outstretched as if he were going to embrace her.
She wanted him to. She did.
She missed the feel of his arms around her, the feel of his hard, warm chest beneath her cheek and the way he kissed her. A large part of her wanted nothing more than to let him kiss her until nothing else mattered, until all that she could think about was him and where their bodies were touching.
But his words had hurt more than just her pride.
Ceana raised her hand and pressed it against his chest to keep some distance between them. She shook her head. “But I cannae just trust ye now.”
As far as she knew, he could just be saying all of these things to her to coax her back to the castle and lock her away in a room. His words meant nothing if there was no action behind them, because he had proven that he could change his mind so quickly, and as such she couldn’t trust him.
“I—” Neil huffed but gave her space. “When me first wife died, the very last thing she had ever said to me was that the babe wasnae mine. She said that I shouldnae be allowed to touch her because I wasnae her faither.”
His lip curled, and his nose twitched as he recalled that moment.
“It was so much more than just learnin’ that she had been unfaithful. It wasnae that she and I were a love match. It wasnae like I would have truly begrudged her a lover of her own had I known about it… had she been honest. But the hatred in her eyes when she told me that she had lied about the bairn bein’ mine, when she took her last breaths… it’s stuck with me.” He paused as he gestured to his chest.
He crouched down, keeping himself centered as he spoke.
Ceana couldn’t move, hanging on his every word. She couldn’t imagine the pain he must have felt.
“At first, I had nay idea who the bairn’s faither was. Every month, Jessica shared me bed, as was expected of both of us in order to make an heir, and… well, I was excited even though the bairn was a girl. As Jeanie grew older, she started lookin’ less like her maither and more like her own person. And then she kept growin’.” Neil sighed, seemingly not too proud of his actions. “For a while, I tried to match her features to those of me clansmen, tryin’ to figure out who her true sire was. I had thought about Arthur a great many times, but I wasnae sure he would betray me like that.”
“But Jeanie’s yer daughter in all the ways that matter.”
“Aye, that’s true. I’m ashamed to say that there were moments when it was hard to accept, to ken that her life started the way it had. But I loved her all the same,” he concluded softly. “It didnae matter to me who her faither was because I was goin’ to be him, as far as anybody kenned. I was the only one who kenned Jessica’s secret, so I decided to keep it. Or so I thought.”
“Ye werenae the only one who kenned, then?”
Neil shook his head. “After the incident yesterday, I confronted Arthur. He didnae even try to deny it. The night of the feast, he had apparently intended to take ye to his bed.”
Ceana sat on the ground beside him, unable to process his words. “That was why ye told me to stay close.”
“I had thought that he was merely drunk and nae thinkin’ clearly, but he set the record straight before we fought,” Neil sighed.
Ceana’s head whipped toward him. “Fought?”
Neil nodded. “I couldnae let him live with the things he had done, the terrible things he said.”
“So, did ye…?”
He nodded once more.
Even though Arthur was a terrible man, the two of them had been friends for so long that it couldn’t have been easy for Neil to kill him. His death must be weighing down on him.
“There willnae be any more rumors. I willnae allow anyone to stain yer honor.”
“I wish ye hadnae felt like ye had to handle all of that on yer own.” She reached over and placed her hand on top of his.
He turned over his hand and curled his fingers around hers. “Will ye come home?”
Ceana started to pull her hand away, but his grip on her tightened. “I cannae return to the castle with ye. I dinnae agree to yer rules anymore, Neil. I dinnae want a white marriage. I want love.”
She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes as she said it, though she could feel her face reddening.
He released her hand and hooked his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to his. “Easy. I’m already madly in love with ye.”
Ceana didn’t know who moved first. She didn’t know if he leaned in to kiss her or if she had thrown herself at him. She had hoped to hear those words from his lips for so long, and they still sounded sweeter than anything she could have imagined. It was all that she wanted.
“I cannae live without ye, wife. I willnae survive. I want yer laughter and yer temper. I want yer fire.”
He pulled her onto his lap right there on the edge of the woods, wrapped his arms around her tightly, and kissed her deeply as if he could pour his remorse and his yearning for her into the single gesture.
Her forehead rested against his when she came up for air, her arms still looped around his neck as she smiled.
“Though I do hope ye will still abide by one of me rules, at least,” he said in that husky voice that she loved so much.
She smiled sweetly, making sure he was looking into her eyes as she spoke. “If ye beg.”