Chapter Twelve #3
“Nay. I but worried that he might carry some of the traits that made her bad. Then I pushed that fear aside as foolish. Jeanne willnae have the raising of him. Iain is a good mon, but his wife oftimes complains about how poor they are. I think Jeanne took those complaints, that unhappiness with her lot, to heart and thought that being a whore would gain her something better. Aye, she did gain a few wee gifts and coin, but she failed to see that that was all she would ever get.”
“And Adair willnae suffer that need to have better?” Moira asked as she held the baby against her shoulder, rubbing his back to ease out any air he may have swallowed. She idly wondered if he was already too old for such help then decided he was enjoying the attention, so it could do no real harm.
“I hope Adair will suffer no want at all, but he willnae be taught that unhappiness. He willnae grow to a mon thinking that ’tis right to do anything to gain some coin. He likes you,” he added abruptly.
Moira shook her head, fully aware of Tavig’s ploy.
“He is a bairn. Bairns havenae been taught to dislike people. They are full of trust and love. Ye dinnae really wish to try to hold me through Adair, do ye?” she asked softly.
“Ye wouldnae want him caught up in the peril that our marriage could cause.”
“I dinnae believe that a marriage between us would cause any more peril than we see each and every day whilst apart from each other. I can see that ye dinnae wish to listen to reason, howbeit.”
“I could say the same thing about you, Sir Tavig MacAlpin. Ye sink your teeth into an idea and cling to it like a ferret.”
“Aye. I have been called persistent.”
“Stubborn.”
“Determined.”
She laughed, shaking her head as she set Adair down next to her and took the bowl of porridge Tavig held out to her.
Beneath her laughter was a lingering pain, however.
The end of their journey would mark the end of her time with Tavig and this loomed ahead of her like a death sentence.
She knew that she had to leave him for both their sakes.
She also knew that it would tear her heart out.
Halting his talk of marriage would not lessen that pain, so she decided to let him talk.
It allowed her to state her reasons for refusing yet again, and perhaps he would eventually accept them.
They were very good reasons. He had to see that.
As she allowed Adair to suck a bit of porridge off her spoon, she prayed she could armor herself against the child as she had failed to do against the father.
She did not need to pine for yet another MacAlpin.
It saddened her already to think of leaving the child, for she knew she would be able to accept him as her own.
Many another woman would not be able to do so.
She quickly shook away that thought. It could easily convince her that she needed to stay with Tavig for the child’s sake.
It was almost laughable. She had just scolded Tavig for his tentative attempt to use the child to hold her to his side, yet she was obviously capable of using the child herself—as an excuse to go against her better judgment and follow her heart.
Suddenly afraid he could easily read her thoughts, if only by the expressions on her face, Moira leapt to her feet.
“I have to rinse out the bairn’s wet clothes,” she said. “Ye will have to watch o’er him.” Snatching up the goatskin of water, Moira walked away.
Tavig frowned after her, moving quickly to catch Adair, who started to crawl after her.
He held on to the boy as he put out the fire.
Although Moira was only a few feet away trying to rinse out Adair s things, Tavig could not shake the chilling feeling that she had just run away from him.
A look of something akin to fear had sped across her face just before she had leapt to her feet.
As Tavig rubbed their eating utensils clean with a great deal of help from Adair, he carefully sorted out everything that had occurred or been said just before Moira’s abrupt retreat.
Suddenly he sat back on his heels and looked at Adair, who was happily chewing on a wooden spoon.
Moira had not run from him but from the child.
She had suddenly seen how easily she could soften to the boy.
That could become a weakness, one that might end her stiff resistance to the idea of marrying him.
She had rightfully scolded him for trying to use the child to pull her to his side, only to see that she could also end up using the child as a means to stay with him.
It was only a theory and a wild one at that, but Tavig could not shake the conviction that he was right.
He did not want her to stay because of the boy but because her heart told her that he was her true mate.
A fortnight might not be enough time to convince her of that, however.
Tavig smiled at his son. It might not be the honorable or fair thing to do but it was very comforting to know that if all else failed, he did still hold one last toss of the dice.