Chapter 15
Elijah’s words hung in the air, but Piper barely heard them. She was too busy staring at Catherine’s portrait, at the beautiful, perfect woman who would always stand between her and—
And what? What exactly had she been hoping for?
Nothin’. Ye’re here to teach his children, nae to compete with ghosts.
“That day,” Elijah began, his voice rough. “The day we were ambushed. I’ve replayed it a thousand times in me mind. A million times. Wonderin’ what I could have done differently.”
Piper tore her gaze from the portrait to look at him. Elijah stood rigid, his hands clenched at his sides, staring at his dead wife’s face.
“We were returnin’ from McGowan’s lands. Catherine had been complainin’ the entire journey. She wanted me to buy her some expensive necklace, and dinnae care that the money would come from the relief fund for sufferin’ villagers.” His jaw tightened. “I told her nay. We argued. And then…”
He stopped, taking a breath.
“Then the carriage toppled. We were surrounded by three men. They’d killed my coach hand and the guard at the front of the carriage.
I fought them off. Killed the three of them.
” His voice was flat, emotionless. “But while I was fightin’, a fourth got to Catherine.
Dragged her into the woods. By the time I found them, it was too late. ”
“Elijah, ye daenae have to…” Piper started, but he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“He’d already stabbed her. Left her bleedin’ on the ground. I killed him quickly, thinkin’ if I got her back to the castle in time, I could still save her.” His hands clenched tighter. “But she was dyin’. And with her last breath, she blamed me. Said I’d been too slow. That I’d failed her.”
“That’s terrible,” Piper whispered. “But it wasnae yer fault.”
“She was right, though.” Elijah’s voice cracked slightly. “I was too slow. Too distracted by the other attackers. If I’d been faster, stronger, more aware, she’d still be alive.”
“Ye were outnumbered.”
“I’m a trained warrior! I should have been able to handle four men and still protect me wife!” The words burst out of him, raw and anguished. “But I failed. And now me children have nay maither because I wasnae good enough.”
“Elijah, nay.” Piper moved closer to him, her earlier insecurity forgotten in the face of his pain. “The bandits killed her. Nae ye. They’re the ones who attacked yer carriage, who hurt her. Ye did everythin’ ye could.”
“It wasnae enough.”
“Because it was an impossible situation!” Piper’s voice rose. “Ye cannae blame yerself for nae bein’ able to do the impossible!”
“And yet I do.” Elijah finally looked at her, and the agony in his eyes made her chest ache. “Every single day, I blame meself. Because if I’d only been better, and faster, or stronger, she’d still be here. Me children would still have their maither. And I—”
He stopped, turning back to the portrait.
“I ken ye loved her,” Piper said quietly, even though saying the words clawed at her heart. “I ken how hard it must be to lose someone ye cared for so deeply. But that’s nay reason to blame yerself for whatever happened.”
“Loved her?” Elijah’s head whipped around, his expression bewildered. “Is that what ye think? That I loved Catherine?”
Piper blinked. “Ye… ye dinnae?”
“Nay.” The word came out harsh, almost bitter. “I could barely stand her most of the time.”
“But…” Piper’s mind reeled. “But ye married her. Had children with her. Yer maither said—”
“Me maither said what she thought ye wanted to hear.” Elijah ran a hand through his hair.
“Or what she hoped was true. But it wasnae. Catherine and I had an arranged marriage. I was sixteen when me faither forced the match. She was beautiful, aye, and from a good family. But we never loved each other.”
“Then why…” Piper gestured helplessly at the portrait. “Why do ye look so tortured when ye speak of her?”
“Because I failed her!” Elijah’s voice cracked. “Nae because I loved her, but because she was me wife. Me responsibility. And when it mattered most, I wasnae good enough to save her. What kind of man does that make me? What kind of husband? What kind of faither?”
“A human one,” Piper said firmly. “A man who did his best in an impossible situation.”
“Me best wasnae good enough.” Elijah turned back to the portrait. “And she kent it. With her dyin’ breath, she told me I’d failed. That it was me fault. And she was right.”
Piper felt a surge of anger so fierce it surprised her. “She was wrong.”
“Ye dinnae ken her.”
“I daenae need to ken her to understand that what she said was cruel and unfair!” Piper moved to stand between Elijah and the portrait, forcing him to look at her instead of Catherine’s painted face.
“She was dyin’, aye, and probably terrified.
But that doesnae excuse puttin’ that burden on ye. That doesnae make it right.”
“She was just speakin’ the truth.”
“She was speakin’ from pain and fear, and she lashed out at the nearest target. That’s what hurt people do; they hurt others.” Piper’s voice softened slightly. “Yer wife reminds me of me parents, in that way.”
Elijah’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Me parents.” Piper wrapped her arms around herself. “They would do the same thing, make me the scapegoat for their mistakes. For their bad luck. Anythin’ that went wrong was somehow me fault. I wasnae good enough, wasnae helpful enough, wasnae worth the food I ate or the space I took up.”
“Piper.”
“When they lost at the gamblin’ tables, it was because I’d brought them bad luck.
When they ran out of money, it was because I was costin’ them too much.
When the money lenders came callin’…” Her voice caught.
“When they came callin’, me parents decided the easiest solution was to sell me to pay their debts. ”
Elijah’s face had gone very still. “That’s how ye ended up at the hunt?”
“Aye.” The word came out bitter. “Me own parents sold me to men who would use me as prey in a twisted game. And do ye ken what they said when I tried to run? They said I owed them. That I was bein’ ungrateful. That everythin’ was somehow me fault.”
“It wasnae yer fault.” Elijah’s voice was fierce.
“Nay, it wasnae. Just like Catherine’s death wasnae yer fault.” Piper held his gaze. “People who are cruel or weak often blame others for their own failures. That’s what me parents did to me. And that’s what yer wife did to ye with her dyin’ words.”
“Ye cannae compare them.”
“I can, and I am.” Piper’s chin lifted. “Ye failed to do the impossible, and she blamed ye for it. That doesnae make it true. That doesnae make ye responsible for her death. The bandits killed her, Elijah. Nae ye.”
Elijah was quiet for a long moment, his jaw working. “Even if that’s true, even if I’m nae responsible for Catherine’s death, it doesnae change the fact that I might fail me children the same way. If somethin’ happened to them because I wasnae fast enough, strong enough—”
“Then at least they’d ken ye tried.” Piper stepped closer. “At least they’d have memories of a faither who loved them, who spent time with them, who was present in their lives. Isnae that better than a faither who keeps them safe but at such a distance they feel abandoned?”
“I’m nae abandonin’ them.”
“Ye are, though. Maybe nae physically, but emotionally.” Piper’s voice gentled. “Yer children would rather have ye and risk the danger than be perfectly safe but completely alone. They told me as much this mornin’. Both of them.”
Elijah’s expression cracked. “They said that?”
“Nae in those exact words. But aye, that’s what they meant.” Piper reached out hesitantly, then let her hand drop. “Besides, they’re in the castle. Behind walls, surrounded by guards. They’re as safe as anyone can be. And they’d be safer with ye close by than with ye hidin’ away in yer study.”
“What if somethin’ happens anyway?”
“Then we’ll deal with it. Together.” Piper’s voice was firm. “But ye cannae protect them from every possible danger, Elijah. All ye can do is love them and do yer best. That’s all any parent can do.”
“And if me best isnae good enough?”
“It will be. Because ye’re nae the same man ye were nine years ago. Ye’re stronger, wiser, more experienced. And more importantly, ye’re aware of what ye could lose. That awareness will make ye better, nae worse.”
Elijah stared at her, something shifting in his expression. “How do ye do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make it sound so simple. Make me believe things might actually be all right.”
“Because they can be. If ye let them.” Piper offered him a small smile. “Ye took the first step today, with Connor. Ye comforted him. Held him. Let him see that ye care. That’s all he needed. That’s all either of them needs.”
“It doesnae feel like enough.”
“It’s a start. And starts are important.” Piper paused. “For what it’s worth, I think ye’re a better faither than ye give yerself credit for.”
“I’m nae sure I agree with that assessment.”
“Well, lucky for ye, I’m nae askin’ for yer agreement.” Piper’s smile widened slightly. “I’m just tellin’ ye what I see.”
Elijah huffed out something that might have been a laugh. “Ye’re very sure of yerself, Miss Armstrong.”
“Someone has to be, since ye’re so busy doubtin’ everythin’.”
This time, it was definitely a laugh—quiet and brief, but genuine. The sound made something warm bloom in Piper’s chest.
“Ye said yer parents sold ye,” Elijah said after a moment. “To pay their gamblin’ debts.”
“Aye.”
“And before that? Before the hunt?”
“Before that, I worked at a bakery in me village. Gave them every coin I earned, because I was too afraid of what they’d do if I dinnae.” Piper’s hand went to her necklace. “I had nothin’, really. Nothin’ except this.”
“The necklace.”
“Aye. Our neighbor, Alexandra.” Piper pulled the necklace out from beneath her dress, letting it catch the fading light. “She died when I was fourteen. From an illness. I was with her at the end, the only one with her.”
Elijah leaned closer, studying the necklace. “May I?”
Piper nodded, and he took the pendant gently between his fingers. His touch was careful, reverent almost, and Piper was acutely aware of how close he was. Close enough that she could smell leather and pine. Close enough to remember.
Daenae think about the kiss. Daenae.
“This is definitely the MacTavish clan symbol,” Elijah said, his brow furrowed. “And the craftsmanship is exceptional. This is nae a trinket, Piper. This is valuable. Probably worth more than most villagers would see in a lifetime.”
“Alexandra said it was special,” Piper said quietly. “But she never told me how special. Never told me where it came from, or why she had it.”
“She must have been nobility,” Elijah said, releasing the pendant. “Or married into it. This kind of piece is only given to women of high standin’ in the clan.”
“That’s what yer maither suggested. That Alexandra might have been runnin’ from somethin’. From a life she dinnae want.”
“And she ended up in yer village.”
“Aye. In a tiny cottage next to a family of gamblers who beat their daughter.” Piper tucked the necklace back beneath her dress. “She saved me, in a way. Taught me that I was worth somethin’. That I deserved kindness.”
“She sounds like a remarkable woman.”
“She was.” Piper’s throat tightened. “She was the only maither I ever really had. The only person who ever made me feel like I mattered.”
“Ye do matter,” Elijah said quietly. “More than ye ken.”
Piper couldn’t help herself – she started crying.