Chapter 22
“I’m glad ye convinced me.” Edith sat by the fireplace in freshly prepared guest chambers, eating a hearty bowl of soup and some crusty white bread.
Heather sat opposite, doing the same. “I did not convince you. Sawyer gave you no choice. I am only sorry that we had to take you from your home, for it looked to be a very charming cottage.”
“Aye, nae anymore. It was supposed to be me marital home, where I’d raise me bairns. I suppose that isnae for me, now,” Edith admitted: her voice thick with sorrow that came in waves. At times, she seemed fine. At others, she could not even speak through the sobs that hit her.
Owen, Brandon, and Sawyer had retreated to one of the council chambers, to discuss the situation.
The gray guard stood watch over the castle and the soldiers had been informed to watch for any marching Englishmen, but it was not enough to simply wait.
As such, they were making plans for their defensive and offensive strategies, while discussing how to find the real culprit.
At least, that was what Owen had told Heather they were going to do.
I hope they eat something. They must be famished and bitterly cold. Heather sighed, letting the soup and the heat of the fire thaw the ice that had set into her bones.
“Will you not seek to find love again?” Heather swallowed a mouthful of bread, though it lodged in her throat. How could she ask such a question? If Owen were killed, she knew that she would never seek love again.
Edith laughed tightly. “Nay, I daenae think so. I daenae have it in me. Ye see, I was never accepted anywhere until I met yer brother. He didnae pass any judgment on me, even when he found out I’d stolen those chickens.
All he did was love me without question or doubt.
I’ll never find that again.” She caught Heather’s gaze. “Is there someone ye love?”
Shyly, Heather nodded.
“Is it Laird Dunn?”
“It is,” Heather confirmed.
“Then, let me give ye a word of advice, from sister to sister,” Edith said, brushing a tear from her cheek.
“Tell him, love him, cherish him, and daenae ever waste a moment that ye could share together. Yer brother was always sayin’ that he hoped ye’d find a man to love, so ye could be as happy as he and I were.
If that’s Laird Dunn, then ye shouldn’ae be here, eatin’ with me. Ye should be with him.”
Heather shook her head. “He is elsewhere, discussing matters of safety.”
“He loves ye, Heather. Daenae think that he disnae. I daenae even ken him I can tell he loves ye.” Edith’s tears fell with greater abandon, but they were not the heavy, bitter tears of earlier.
They were filled with feeling. “So, finish this soup, leave me to me rest, and go and warm yerself in yer chambers, where he can find ye. If he loves ye, as I think he does, he’ll come to ye. That’s how ye’ll ken, mark me words.”
In truth, the entire ordeal had already made Heather realize that she did not want to waste another moment. Her grief over the loss of her brother would always be a part of her, but if she could find happiness, he would want her to. Why should she not seek solace in a man she adored?
So, this is how I will know the true extent of his feelings. She held that in her mind, anxious to return to her chambers to see if he would come. Yet, she lingered longer in her sister-in-law’s room, for what sort of sister would she be if she abandoned Edith at her lowest ebb?
For over an hour, they spoke of one another’s pasts.
Heather told stories of her childhood with William, while Edith told stories of the northernmost Highlands, where she had endured a more troubled existence.
Nevertheless, hearing about William in greater depth seemed to soothe Edith, and, as the hour chimed five in the morning, the weary woman was fast asleep in the armchair.
Covering Edith with a blanket, Heather took that as her cue to leave, for she had no intention of sleeping until daylight.
She doubted she could, even if she wanted to, for her mind was ablaze with too many things: the real killer, the advice Edith had given, the reaction of her father, the lying priest, Brandon’s futile efforts, among others.
Those thoughts would only keep chattering, even with her eyes closed.
I do hope that Owen will visit me, otherwise I shall drive myself to the brink of madness, with all of this frantic running in my mind.
Heavy limbed and aching from the after effects of the cold, she made her way back up to her chamber.
It was not too far from Edith, and Heather hoped that, in time, they would become close, as real sisters were.
Indeed, she already adored Edith. She just wished she had known about her sooner, so she could have shared in their happy wedding day, instead of hearing about it much too late.
Why did you not trust me with it, William? To her dismay, she sensed she already knew the answer. Not long ago, she had openly despised the Scots, as she was taught to do. So, why would her beloved brother have introduced her to someone he thought she might hate?
A knock came at Heather’s door, just as she was beginning to doubt herself. Beyond the window of her chamber, the first purple flush of dawn strove to lighten the sky, but she doubted any of their quintet, other than Edith, would be asleep before daylight.
“Come in,” she said hesitantly.
If anyone but Owen walked through that door, she would be crushed.
Of course, she knew there were exceptions to the things that Edith had said about it being true proof of his affections.
Owen might have assumed Heather would be asleep, and wanted to let her rest, or the men’s discussion in the council chamber had been prolonged.
The trouble was, she had talked herself into something of a frenzy.
The door opened and, to her immense relief, Owen stepped into the room. He closed the door behind him and made his way directly to her, gathering her up into his arms and holding her as though he never intended to release her again.
“I hoped ye wouldn’ae be asleep,” he murmured, close to her ear.
She smiled and nuzzled into his neck. “I could not rest.”
“Are ye well? Have ye taken ill? Do ye want me to send for the healer?” He pulled back with a start, observing her closely and resting the back of his hand to her brow, to see if she was warm. “Ye’re a touch hot, but then ye’ve been sittin’ close to the fire.”
She took his hand and kissed it. “I am quite well, my love. I have no fever, though I feared I would never be able to feel my body again. I do not believe I have ever been so cold in my life.”
“Are ye warmed now?” A glimmer of relief and irreverence flashed in his eyes.
She slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him back into an embrace. “I will be, as long as I have you here. You are like my own, private furnace.”
“And glad to be,” he said, with a chuckle. “Though, ye shouldn’ae still be in yer damp garments, else ye’ll awaken with a chill.”
She frowned up at him. “But my garments are not—” The laughter in his eyes cut her off. He was teasing her, as if none of the night’s dangers had happened at all.
“May I?” He unfastened the ribbon that tightened the waist of her simple, woolen dress. But, as he reached for her skirts, clearly intending to pull the dress up over her head, she pressed her palms to his chest to stop him.
“There is something I must say to you, Owen,” she murmured, feeling shy. “I do not know how, as I have never told anyone this before, but—”
His fingertips came up to rest on her lips, silencing her. “Let me speak first, love.”
She noticed the sweet term of endearment and hoped the rest of his speech would follow its lead. Or, had he silenced her because he did not want her to confess? Were his feelings not the same as hers?
“I daenae ken what ye’re goin’ to say, but if it’s what me heart longs to hear, then I cannae let ye confess before me,” he continued, with a nervous smile.
“I love ye, Heather. I ken it hasnae been easy for us, and it isnae likely to be in the future, at least for a while, but I ken what I want. I want ye, love. And, if ye consent, nothin’ would bring me greater joy than to have ye as me wife. ”
Heather’s heart leaped with happiness as she gazed lovingly into his eyes, grateful that he had gone first. For now, she had no reason to fear any of the words that she had wanted to say.
“I love you, too,” she whispered, as though it were a mighty secret.
“I realized tonight that I should not try to restrain my feelings for you, as none of us know if there will be a tomorrow. That sounds rather macabre, I know, but it is my inspiration. I do not want to hesitate any longer. I love you. I love you so very much, for though my heart was broken, you have held the pieces together, and I feel them heal every day that I am with you.”
It only occurred to her, as she was speaking, that he had made a proposal of marriage. He had said it with such ease that she had almost missed it entirely.
Marriage? My goodness… to be his wife. What a blessing that would be. Her heart danced a reel, for though she had desired a confession, she had not expected a proposal to come with it.
Owen cupped her face in his hands. “I never kent I could feel this way. I didnae think it possible.”
“Nor did I,” she admitted. “I thought I was destined for a loveless union with a gentleman that I would be fortunate to tolerate. That is how it seems to be for other young ladies, but then you came along, in such a… peculiar fashion, and you have changed my very existence. I cannot go back, I do not wish to go back, and so… yes, my love, I will marry you.”
Owen smiled. “I kent that if ye loved me and I loved ye, ye’d have to make a choice.
It warms me heart and soul to hear ye say that ye’ve chosen me.
I willnae make ye regret it,” he promised.
“From this day until our last, which I hope is decades in the future, I will do all within me power to keep ye feelin’ loved.
Ye’re me savior and me gift, Heather, and I love ye with all I am. ”
“There was no choice. I do believe it was always supposed to be you,” she told him, lifting up on tiptoe to press her lips to his. He might have confessed first, but she would seal their promise with a kiss before he could.
He smiled against her lips and caught her mouth with his, while his hand slipped behind her head, running his fingertips through her hair as he kissed her. Already, she could feel a change in the way he kissed her, as if he had left all of his hesitation behind, too.
You have been patient, my love. I will not ask you to wait any longer. As tomorrow was not assured for either of them, she saw no reason to hold back… even if she did not quite know what might await her.