Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
W ith the rush of adrenaline gone and after having returned to her small cottage in the castle grounds, Fia was suddenly thrown into a panic. Her heart raced in her chest, her hands trembled uncontrollably, dropping the cup of tea Bane had brewed for her, the clay chipping off upon impact.
She cursed under her breath. Nothing she did seemed right; even though she had long since decided to abandon her plan, it still haunted her everywhere she went.
Knox would not leave her alone. No matter what she had done, no matter how gently and subtly she had tried to extricate herself from him, he continued to pursue her. His feelings showed no signs of fading and Fia couldn’t understand how someone like her, someone Callum had put down time and time again, could have gotten the attention of such a great man as the laird of the clan. She didn’t deserve Knox, not even a tiny bit. And she was not selfish enough to pursue him.
She didn’t deserve it; she didn’t deserve any of it. She was not the brave, honest woman Knox thought she was.
The only way out of this was to tell him the truth, but then he would despise her and he would kick her and Bane out of the castle. She didn’t care about herself so much; Knox could do as he pleased and she would suffer it because she deserved to face the consequences. Bane, though, didn’t deserve any of it. He had done nothing wrong; it was only Fia, with her foolish ambition and her even more foolish plan for revenge, who had gotten him into that mess.
“Fia… calm yerself,” Bane said as he began to gather the chipped pieces of clay and mop up the spilled tea with a piece of cloth. From the lips of anyone else, Fia would have taken those words, that tone, as harsh and unfeeling. But when they came from Bane, she knew what it was; a way for her to snap out of her panic, to provoke her just enough for her to return to herself.
It didn’t work, though it was usually an effective strategy. This time, her panic felt too deep, bottomless, as though she still hadn’t reached its murkiest parts. She was still sinking into its bowels, still hadn’t reached the bottom, and she didn’t know if she ever would.
“Fia,” Bane called again, but this time his tone was gentler, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder as he crouched down next to her chair so that they were at the same level. It was only then that Fia looked at him, finding him smiling softly at her.
She didn’t deserve that either.
“Come now… what happened? Ye were fine just yesterday.”
“I cannae dae this anymore,” she finally said, gasping as though she hadn’t managed to draw a single breath all that day. “What am I supposed tae dae now, Bane? Knox… Laird Stuart, he keeps bein’ so wonderful. He… he treats me so well an’ I dinnae deserve any o’ it. What am I supposed tae dae?”
Bane sighed, giving her a pat on the shoulder. “Naethin’,” he said. “Eventually, he’ll have tae wed another woman. Everyone in the castle is talkin’ about how the council wants him tae wed, so ye shouldnae have this problem fer much longer.”
The room seemed to darken at that, as if a cloud had passed over Fia and covered the sun completely. Knowing that he was meant to be married to another woman was just as painful, almost unbearable. She had truly fallen for him; her heart belonged wholly to him. Knowing he would be married to another woman was akin to torture.
But perhaps it’s the torture I deserve.
“I see,” she said, her voice sounding so weak that she hardly recognized it as her own. But then a thought occurred to her, that unnerved her as much as it gave her sick hope. “But what if that daesnae stop him?”
It was hardly unheard of for lairds to have paramours and if that was what Knox wanted, Fia didn’t know how she could avoid him. Was he the kind of man who would do such a thing? Or would he be loyal to his wife, as was expected of him by God?
She supposed it all depended on whether he loved her or not.
“Then perhaps ye should tell him the truth,” Bane said. “Wouldnae that be best fer everyone?”
“Nae fer ye,” Fia pointed out. “He’ll be angry, o’ course. What if he sends us away?”
“Then… then we return home,” Bane said, with such calm and conviction that it was difficult for Fia to hold onto her panic. If Bane was calm, then it meant he knew what to do, and if he knew what to do, then there was nothing for Fia to worry about. It wouldn’t be the first time she had to rely on him, on his guidance, to get through a difficult time.
“But ye like it here.”
“I dae,” Bane admitted. “O’ course I dae. It’s very comfortable. But I dinnae need any o’ this, Fia. All we need is a roof over our heads, some warm food, an’ tae keep lookin’ fer Tav. An’ I… I have sorely neglected that while we’ve been here.”
Bane sounded so wounded by that, Fia couldn’t help but stare at him in surprise. So blind had she been, so concerned with her own problems with Knox, she hadn’t even thought much about Tav those past few weeks, overcome by her worries and fears about everything else.
“Bane… I’m sorry,” she said as she sank to her knees on the floor next to him, pulling him into a tight hug. Bane hesitated for a moment, but then his arms wrapped tightly around her, the two of them holding onto each other like they did when they were children and the storms chilled them to the bone, even in the safety of their cottage. “I’m sorry… I wasnae thinking… I didnae realize…”
“It’s alright,” Bane assured her, shushing her gently. “Ye had so much tae think about. It’s alright, I promise. And I got distracted as well…”
Pulling back from him, Fia grabbed his face in her hands, staring at him in the eyes. “Dinnae blame yerself,” she said firmly, through gritted teeth, hot tears carving stinging paths down her face. “Dinnae think fer a second ye did somethin’ wrong. An’ dinnae think fer a second that we willnae find Tav. He’s out there, I ken he is. An’ we’ll find him together.”
This was what she needed, Fia thought. She had lost her way somewhere along the line, losing track of what was important and what wasn’t. As much as it pained her to know that she couldn’t be with Knox, as much as the thought of him with another woman wounded her, it was nothing she could change. But what she could do was search for Tav and bring him home. She could help save her brother.
Bane nodded, at least as much as he could with Fia holding his face like that. “Aye,” he said, the word coming out choked, as if he had trouble speaking it. “Aye, ye’re right. We’ll find him.”
For a while, the two of them stayed like that, kneeling on the floor in each other’s arms. When Bane pulled back from Fia, she saw that he had been crying, too, but he was quick to wipe the tears off his face with the back of his hand. With a deep breath, he stood and offered his hand to her and she took it and did the same, taking a moment to breathe.
Everythin’ will be fine, as long as I have me family.
That night, Fia and Bane once again found themselves at the laird’s table, having another dinner that felt too formal for them. She knew, of course, why Knox kept inviting them to such dinners and always tried to find ways to have her near him, but Fia couldn’t help but wish she could somehow reject the invitation.
Not only did she find it painful to be near Knox, but she also found the dinners themselves painful. Even now, neither she nor Bane fit in with the rest of the crowd. They neither knew how to speak to the nobles around them, or how to discuss the matters they did, or copy their gestures and mannerisms. Eating with so many utensils had only just gotten easier for Fia, but she still had trouble remembering which was for what function.
Her only solace was that every time Effie sat next to her on such occasions—which was more often than not—she gently and subtly reminded her which utensil to use whenever she hesitated. If any of the nobles around her noticed, they hadn’t dared say a thing on the matter. Ever since they had seen how Knox berated those who spoke ill of her or Bane, they had stopped making comments at their expense.
That, at least, was a relief.
The sound of a polite cough caught Fia’s attention and she glanced at the head of the table to see Knox standing, a cup of wine in his hand.
“A toast,” he said, and all the chatter around the table died down as the rest of the guests raised their cups to match him. “Tae Miss MacKenzie, who only yesterday delivered a wee bairn an’ saved it an’ the maither from harm. We dinnae ken what may have happened had we nae been caught in that storm an’ Miss MacKenzie hadnae been there tae help.”
Fia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment at being the center of attention. She was far from used to it. In fact, she had spent most of her life bleeding into the background, never once drawing anyone’s attention on her. Callum was the first one to ever notice her, and he had only done it for a bet. Now that the attention was genuine and all these people around the table looked at her with bright smiles—some of them genuine—she didn’t know what to do with herself.
Should I stand? Should I say somethin’?
“Thank ye, me laird,” she said in the end, deciding it was best to keep it short as to avoid any more unwanted attention—or even worse, a blunder. “I’m only glad I was there tae help.”
Knox tilted his head and raised his cup even higher in the air. “Tae yer health, Fia.”
Somehow, the sound of her name was more intimate than Fia had expected. Not only that, but all the kindness he had shown her, all the love, even the hospitality when he hadn’t even known her for more than a day—they all made her plan to win his favor seem so foolish, so banal. Upon arrival, she had thought Knox would simply be a useful tool, a noble like all the others who had scorned her from the moment she had stepped foot in the great hall. But Knox wasn’t like that. He spoke of Fia’s kindness and bravery often, but he was the one who was kind, who was truly brave.
As Knox took his seat once more, Fia’s gaze fell to her plate. Her appetite was gone. All she wanted was to leave the great hall and retreat to the safety of her cottage—not the one within castle grounds, but the one back in Duror, her real home.
Maybe, just maybe, she would end up back there sooner than she thought.
“I’ll wed Fia,” Knox announced and, just as he had expected, Magnus let out a weary sigh and buried his face in his hands. The two of them were in Knox’s study, sharing a drink after the dinner, and Knox couldn’t wait any longer to announce the news.
“So, ye’ve made up yer mind,” Magnus said, leaning back in his seat and downing the rest of his wine. “An’ the council?”
“I dinnae care about the council.”
Knox had given it plenty of thought. He had worried about the council’s opinion for so long, agonizing over what they might say and do, that he had forgotten the most important thing of all.
He simply did not care.
He didn’t care what the elders might say. He didn’t care if they disagreed with his choice or if they were going to put up a fight, desperately trying to convince him to reconsider. He didn’t even care if they tried to sabotage the wedding. Knox had made up his mind and there was no turning back.
“I see,” said Magnus. “Well, in that case, I wish ye two the very best. As long as ye’re prepared tae deal with what’s tae come, I’ll stand by yer side.”
Knox had expected nothing less from Magnus. He had never gone against his decisions or his desires, and he wasn’t going to start now, but it was still good to hear it from the man himself. Knox needed Magnus’ support now more than ever. Without him by his side, he didn’t know how he could ever stand in front of the council and give them the same announcement.
“When will ye tell them?” Magnus asked. “Dae ye want me tae be there?”
“O’ course,” said Knox. “But I should ask Fia first. It would be presumptuous o’ me tae simply think that’s what she wishes.”
“Isnae it?” Magnus asked, and Knox had to ask himself the same question. He knew Fia had to be feeling the same way he did. He knew they shared a deep, profound love, but even so, he didn’t want to assume.
“I dinnae ken,” he admitted. “She… she has been through much. She was meant tae wed a man afore she came here, she told me. But from what she said, he hurt her terribly, left her afore the proposal.”
Magnus leaned closer, his eyes wide with surprise. “Truly? How terrible.”
“It is,” Knox agreed. “I dinnae understand how anyone would leave such a lass.”
“The heart often works in mysterious ways,” Magnus pointed out. “Perhaps somethin’ happened, perhaps he had other issues.”
“Perhaps,” Knox said, but something about it still didn’t sit right with him. He had the suspicion it may have been something far more complex, something he may never fully understand. “It’s such a shame, how much he hurt her. But once I make her me wife, she willnae have tae ever fear a thing.”