Chapter 28 Whatever May Come
CRAEG WATCHED HAZEL depart, desperation twisting in his gut.
His words had fallen on deaf ears, and she was running from him now. The urge to follow her, to plead with her, thundered through him, and he was about to give in to it when a strong hand fastened on his arm.
“Let her go, lad.”
His gaze snapped to Tor’s, a snarl building in his throat. However, the genuine concern in the older man’s blue eyes checked him.
“Sometimes, ye need to know when to let things lie,” Tor said quietly. “Ye must realize that the tighter ye hold onto things, the faster ye lose them.”
Aware then that the merchant and his wife, seated by the fire, were now staring at him, as were all the other patrons and Alison, Craeg lowered himself back down onto his stool. “I am losing her,” he ground out. “I’ve lost her trust … and I don’t know how to get it back.”
Silence followed before, wordlessly, Tor grabbed a stool of his own and pulled it up next to him. “Ye need to stop haranguing the lass,” he said after a lengthy pause.
Heat rolled over Craeg. Why was everyone intent on treating him like some wet-behind-the-ears pup? “I was only trying to make her understand,” he replied, wishing his voice wasn’t so hoarse.
“She’s clearly afraid,” Tor replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And yer insistence just made her bolt.”
“What else am I supposed to do?” Craeg snarled, his frustration spilling over. “She’s shutting me out. But I’ll be damned if I won’t fight for her.”
Tor gave him a pitying look that made him want to punch him. Grabbing his tankard, Craeg took a deep pull of ale. It didn’t make him feel any better though; it didn’t lessen the ache in his chest or the panic that twisted in his gut. “What would ye do then?” he bit out eventually.
Tor’s mouth tugged up into a half smile. His gaze went to where Hazel had just disappeared up the stairs, his expression thoughtful. “It’s clear ye love the woman … but ye are battering at her like she’s a locked door ye can just force open with the right words. That’s not how this works.”
Craeg’s face started to burn. This was excruciating. But Tor wasn’t done.
“Ye didn’t listen. Instead of asking gently what happened in Moy, of giving her space to tell ye in her own time, ye charged ahead with yer own speech.
Apologies are easy … proving ye mean it is harder.
Ye made it about winning an argument, not understanding her pain.
Ye told her what she’ll regret, what she’ll feel.
That’s not yer place, man. Ye don’t get to decide how she’ll feel years from now.
It sounds like ye are dismissing her reasons as foolish, even if that’s not what ye mean. ”
Sweat beaded on Craeg’s brow. He wished the innkeeper would stop talking, yet he wasn’t done.
“And not only that, but ye said it all in this common room” —Tor cut the merchant and his wife a look, and the pair hastily averted their gazes— “where everyone could hear. Hazel is clearly already humiliated, already the subject of gossip. If someone warned her about the cost of being with the Chieftain of Moy … ye just proved them right.”
Standing by the flickering hearth, Hazel clenched and unclenched her hands at her sides. Ire pulsed in her stomach.
Curse the man. Why did he have to make things so difficult?
Craeg didn’t see the world as she did. He’d grown up blanketed by privilege.
He didn’t realize how it was for other folk.
She’d lost everything that mattered to her.
Siùsan. Her cottage. Duncan. Her life had been made from straw—all it had taken was a strong gust to destroy it.
Craeg didn’t understand. Maybe he didn’t want to.
Instead, he waded in with breathtaking recklessness, blinded by his own needs and wants.
Her throat tightened then. He was right about one thing though.
She’d never recover from this. From him.
The knowledge sank deep into her bones and filled her with an ache of longing that almost eclipsed the humiliation of the scene.
Almost made her forget the panic that had washed over her when he’d ordered her to return to Moy with him and the wariness she now cloaked herself in.
Almost.
Hands still balled at her sides, she started to pace her chamber. Her skirts swished around her legs as she moved, as she forced herself to think ahead, to a new life on the mainland. Enough wallowing. She needed to make plans.
Oban was a busy port. There would be a need for a skilled herb-wife. She could—
Soft knocks at the door made her step falter.
Halting, she swiveled to face it. “Aye?”
“Hazel. It’s me … Craeg.”
Panic spasmed in her chest. “Go away.”
A pause followed. “Can I speak to ye?”
She didn’t answer.
“I put my foot in it downstairs,” he added, his voice catching. “Again.”
“Aye, ye did.”
Another silence followed before he cleared his throat. “I understand why ye’re going. Ye are afraid. Ye no longer trust my word. Ye think I’ll try to impose my will upon ye. Change ye. But I won’t.” He paused then. “I would never try to dim yer flame. I swear it.”
Hazel muttered an oath under her breath. “Leave me be, Craeg.”
“I shall stay here,” he replied, his voice low and sure. “I shall speak to ye through this door, if I must. But we can’t leave things like this. I will never be able to live with myself if we do.”
Her temper snapped. Three strides brought her to the door.
She then flung it open to find him standing there.
His handsome face was strained, his brow furrowed.
But the despair in his eyes was what cut her the deepest. Pushing a sudden clutch of sympathy aside, she glared at him.
“It’s always about ye, isn’t it, Craeg Maclean. ”
He swallowed. Hard. “Not always.”
Breathing hard, she glared at him. He’d pushed her past her limits this evening. “I think ye’ve said enough.”
A nerve jumped in his cheek. “Please … just a few moments of yer time. After that, we shall never speak of this again.”
Tension pulsed between them. And then, cursing, she stepped back and motioned for him to enter. Best get this over with. At least, they were alone now. At least, this time he wasn’t putting on a show for the common room.
Silently, Craeg entered the chamber, closing the door behind him. He then went to the hearth and turned to face her. A nerve jumped in his cheek.
“My greatest fear came true today,” he said huskily. “I became him.”
Hazel stilled. She didn’t ask Craeg who ‘he’ was. The hunted look in his eyes told her.
“Ye didn’t,” she said softly.
His throat worked. “Didn’t I? Ye looked at me as if I were a beast downstairs, lass.”
Heat rolled over her. Craeg wasn’t the only one with a temper.
“I lashed out … and I’m sorry.” She paused then, collecting her thoughts.
Something subtle shifted deep in her chest then, almost as if a knot had just come loose.
“Ye were out of line, but that doesn’t make ye like Ewan … or Leod Maclean.”
He stared back at her, his throat working. “Thank ye,” he said quietly. “That means more than ye shall ever know.” He broke off there, his peat-brown eyes glinting. “Ewan … so that’s the name of the shitbag who broke yer heart.”
She snorted. “Don’t worry about that … it mended a while ago.”
His gaze fused with hers. “Yer heart maybe … but not yer trust.”
“I have enjoyed yer company, Craeg … truly,” she replied, her voice lowering.
“But letting my guard down has been difficult … especially after learning that my entire life was a lie.” She paused then, collecting her thoughts before continuing.
“Even so, right from the day ye knocked on my door, ye made me feel protected. If I’m honest, I’ve never felt so comfortable with anyone as I do with ye. ”
His throat worked. “Until today.”
She let out a slow, steadying breath and nodded. “Things haven’t been easy for me of late,” she admitted then, warmth rising to her cheeks. “I was angry at my mother for keeping secrets from me … I blamed myself for my birth mother’s death.”
“Why didn’t ye tell me?”
“I didn’t want to trouble ye with it.” And she hadn’t. Hazel was used to dealing with things on her own.
“I’m far from perfect, I know it,” he said roughly. “But for ye, I’d try to be a better man.”
Anguish bloomed under her ribs. “Oh, Craeg. Don’t—”
“I mean it. I’m a stubborn arse who likes getting his own way. My mother coddled me, I’ll admit. But I’m willing to humble myself. To learn. Life doesn’t make sense without ye, Hazel. Please, let me make things right.”
Hazel stared back at him, her pulse drumming in her ears.
She wanted to stay angry at him, to retreat to safety. But with each passing moment, she found it harder to do so.
He watched her steadily. “Ye should know that Loch Maclean has given us his blessing.”
Hazel blinked. With everything that had happened over the past day, she’d completely forgotten the reason for Craeg’s trip to Duart Castle. “He did?” She didn’t bother to hide her incredulity.
Craeg’s lips quirked into a rueful half-smile. “It started badly … but after I took a softer approach … and he calmed down a little … things went better. Loch will not stand in our way.”
Hazel stared back at him. In truth, he’d just taken the wind out of her sails. She’d been sure the clan-chief would deny him.
His chest rose and fell sharply then. “If ye truly wish to go, I will not stop ye. Ye have the right to choose yer own path. I just know that if ye walk out of my life, I will mourn ye forever.” His throat bobbed. “I will never find another woman to rival ye, Hazel. Never.”
They stared at each other.
Her throat grew tight, and her eyes started to burn. She could feel her resolve crumbling, like a fortress made of wet sand. Desperately, she tried to clutch at it, shore it up. But she couldn’t.
“And I will never love anyone as I do ye,” she whispered.
His eyes snapped wide.
Aye, she’d just stepped over the brink—just admitted the truth that had burned within her for days now.
Craeg took a slow, tentative step toward her then. His movements were careful, as if she might bolt if he rushed this.
He wasn’t wrong. Hazel’s body was as taut as a drawn bowstring. But she didn’t run.
“I won’t tell ye what lies ahead will be easy,” he said, his voice gravelly now.
“I can be jealous and possessive … and ye shall need to remind me of my manners at times. We will face prejudice and whispers. I may lose the support of some of my clansmen over this. Some of my allies may sever relations. There will be challenges … hardships … but I shall promise ye this. I love ye … and whatever may come, I shall stand beside ye.”
Hazel’s breathing became fast and shallow then, emotion churning over her, through her, like a wild sea. Hades. Raising a shaking hand to her face, she tried to brush away the tears that suddenly leaked from her eyes. However, they wouldn’t be stemmed.
Craeg shifted closer still, and then his strong, warm hands were holding hers. His gaze fused with her own, and the fierce love she saw there made her pulse skitter.
Something gave way then, the last of the tower slumping. She wouldn’t fight this any longer. She couldn’t. She feared putting her trust in someone, in giving a man power over her, but she didn’t want a life without Craeg. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was right. They’d face it together.
“Very well,” she said softly.
Joy flared in his eyes. His fingers tightened their grip. “Then ye will wed me?”
“Aye.”
His throat worked. “Because ye wish to … not because I’m overwhelming ye with all these words?”
She made a sound, halfway between a hiccough and a sob.
“Haven’t ye learned yet that I’m as stubborn as my donkey?
If I agree to this, it’s because I want it.
” Pulling her right hand free of his, she lifted her hand to his face, her fingertips tracing from his cheek to his jaw, now shadowed by dark stubble.
“Curse ye, Craeg Maclean. Nothing makes sense without ye.”
He made a sound in the back of his throat. An instant later, he stepped into Hazel, his mouth claiming hers.