Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Papers lay scattered before James in his study, though he had not read a single word of them, his thoughts far too restless to settle on matters of parchment and ink.
The weight of the last days pressed upon him, not the battle, nor Drummond’s death, but something far more unsettling. The image of Eloise lingered in his mind, her voice, her touch, the way she had looked at him as though he were something more than a duty-bound Laird.
A knock came at the door, and before he could answer, Callum stepped inside, closing it quietly behind him.
“Ye sent for me, me Laird?” he asked, his tone steady as always.
James straightened, drawing in a breath. “Aye. There is business to be done.”
Callum moved closer, “What would ye have me do?” he asked, folding his arms loosely across his chest.
James crossed behind the desk, his expression hardening slightly as he forced his thoughts into order.
“Ye will lead the escort taking Mairead back to her father, Laird Cameron,” he said. “Ye will deliver me letter into his hands and ensure he kens the terms I’ve set. Ye will wait for his reply.”
Callum nodded once, without hesitation. “It will be done,” he said simply. “I’ll see her delivered safely, and I’ll make certain Cameron understands the weight of it.”
James gave a brief nod, though his mind was already elsewhere, drifting again where he did not wish it to go.
Callum studied him for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “And what of Miss Eloise?” he asked carefully. “What is to be done now?”
James exhaled slowly, turning away as he moved toward the window. Outside, the courtyard bustled with life, but it felt distant, removed from the turmoil within him.
“I have a confession to make,” he said at last, his voice quieter than before.
Callum blinked, clearly taken aback. “A confession?”
James gave a humorless huff. “Aye… though it sits ill with me to admit it.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I was meant to protect her, nothin' more,” he said, staring out at the fading light. “Keep her safe from Drummond until the man found another bride, and then send her on her way.”
Callum said nothing, waiting.
“But somewhere along the way,” James continued, his voice roughening, “I lost sight of that purpose.” He turned then, meeting Callum’s gaze fully. “I have fallen for her.”
“Well,” Callum said slowly, “there is truth for ye… I didnae expect that.”
“Nor did I,” James muttered, pacing now, restless energy driving him forward. “It wasnae meant to happen. I fought it, told meself it was nothing but desire, but…” He trailed off, frustration flickering across his face.
“But it isnae,” Callum finished quietly.
James stopped, letting out a sharp breath. “Nay. It isnae.”
“Then I suppose it is me turn to confess somethin' as well,” Callum said.
James glanced at him, curiosity breaking through his turmoil. “What is it?” he asked.
Callum hesitated only briefly before speaking. “I loved her,” he said simply. “Yer sister, Jenny.”
James went utterly still. “What?” his voice sharp with shock.
Callum held his gaze, steady despite the weight of the admission. “I never spoke of it,” he said. “It wasnae me place.”
James shook his head, disbelief etched into every line of his face. “Why did ye never say anythin'?” he demanded.
Callum gave a small, almost sad smile. “Because she was yer sister,” he said plainly. “Destined to be wed to a man of wealth and standin'. I am nothing but a man-at-arms.”
James stared at him, something shifting deep within his chest, something heavy and long-buried.
“Ye are never ‘nothin',” he said firmly. “I would have been honored to call ye me brother.”
Callum’s expression softened, the words clearly striking deeper than he expected. “That means more to me than ye ken,” he said quietly. “But it wouldnae have changed what was decided for her.”
James turned away again, his thoughts spiraling, guilt rising sharp and familiar. “I failed her,” he said, his voice low. “I should have stopped that marriage. Me word carried weight. I could have ended it.”
Callum stepped forward, his tone firm but not unkind. “Aye, perhaps ye could have,” he said. “But ye didnae ken what would come of it. None of us did.”
James clenched his fists, the old wound reopening. “And now she’s gone,” he said bitterly. “Because I chose the clan over her.”
Callum’s gaze sharpened. “Daenae make the same mistake again,” he said quietly.
James looked up at him, startled. “What do ye mean?”
Callum held his gaze. “Jenny made her choice,” he said.
“She believed it was for the good of the clan, and she paid dearly for it. But that doesnae mean ye must spend the rest of yer days alone, punishin' yerself for what’s already done. Miss Eloise isnae Jenny. And what happened to yer sister willnae happen to her.”
James exhaled slowly, the tension in his chest easing just a fraction. “I fear it might,” he admitted. “That loving her will only bring her harm.”
Callum shook his head. “Nay,” he said firmly. “Loving her may be the very thing that saves her. Ye’ve already proven what ye’ll do for her.”
James’s mind flickered back to the battlefield, to the moment he had thought he’d lost her, the desperation that had driven him without hesitation. “I cannae lose her,” he murmured.
“Then daenae,” Callum replied simply.
Silence fell once more, though it felt different now, less suffocating. James drew a long breath, something within him settling at last, the pieces of his turmoil beginning to align.
Wanting Eloise is nae weakness, nor is it betrayal. It is somethin' new, somethin' I've long denied meself, somethin' that doesnae diminish Jenny’s memory but honors it.
He straightened, resolve hardening in his chest. “Ye are right,” he said quietly. “I cannae keep running from it.”
Callum gave a small nod. “Then daenae.”
James’s gaze drifted once more to the window, but this time his thoughts were clearer, steadier.
“I will see this through,” he said, more to himself than to Callum. “Nay more half measures.”
Callum’s lips curved faintly. “Aye,” he said. “That sounds more like the Laird I ken.”
James allowed himself the smallest hint of a smile, though his eyes remained thoughtful. For the first time in years, the path before him did not feel like a burden to bear, but a choice to be made, and he knew, without doubt, which path he would take.
Eloise.
I should be relieved, that the danger has passed and the truth is laid bare, yet something within me refuses to quiet.
Eloise wandered alone through the castle gardens, her fingers brushing absently over the soft petals of late-blooming roses as her thoughts tangled upon themselves. The air was cool and sweet, yet her heart felt restless, unsettled by all that had come to pass.
“What am I to do with meself now?” she murmured softly, glancing toward the distant hills. “Everythin' has changed… and yet I feel as though I stand at the edge of somethin' I cannae yet see.”
She let out a small breath, pressing her hand to her chest as if to steady the strange flutter there.
“Eloise!” came a voice, sharp with urgency, breaking through her thoughts like a stone through still water. She turned quickly, to see James running toward her.
Her brow furrowed in confusion at the sight of him, his expression intense and unreadable.
“James?” she said, her voice soft with surprise. “What troubles ye so that ye come runnin’ like the hounds are at yer heels?”
He slowed as he reached her, breath slightly uneven, his gaze fixed entirely upon her as though nothing else in the world existed.
He stopped before her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him, and for a moment he simply stared, as if gathering courage.
“I cannae keep silent any longer,” he said at last.
Eloise’s heart skipped, her pulse quickening under his gaze. “Ye deserve truth, nae half-measures and guarded words.”
She searched his face, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “What is it ye mean, me Laird?” she asked, though her voice trembled slightly.
James stepped closer still, his hand lifting as though to reach for her before he caught himself.
“I have fallen for ye, Eloise,” he said, the words coming with a force that seemed to surprise even him. “It wasnae meant to be so. Ye were to be under me protection, nothin' more, and yet ye have become everythin'.”
Eloise’s breath caught sharply, her lips parting in disbelief. “Ye… ye have?” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.
“Aye,” he replied, his eyes softening, “and I cannae deny it any longer, nor do I wish to.”
She felt warmth rush through her, sudden and overwhelming, as though the very earth had shifted beneath her feet.
“But the engagement…” she began, her thoughts scrambling to keep pace. “It was never real.”
James nodded, a faint, rueful smile touching his lips. “Aye, it began as a farce,” he said. “But I would make it truth, if ye will allow it.”
He took her hand then, firm and steady, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.
“If ye will have me, lass… will ye marry me and become Lady MacAllister, in truth this time? Nay secrets, nay lies.”
Eloise stared at him, her vision blurring as tears welled in her eyes, her heart swelling so full she thought it might break. All the confusion, the fear, the longing she had tried so fiercely to deny now rose within her, undeniable and clear.
“Ye mean it?” she asked softly, searching his face for any sign of doubt.
“With all that I am,” he answered without hesitation. “I would have ye by me side, nae for duty, but because I cannae imagine a life without ye in it.”
Joy burst through her then, bright and fierce, chasing away every shadow of doubt she had clung to. She laughed softly through her tears, shaking her head as if she could scarcely believe it.
“Aye,” she said, her voice trembling but certain. “I will have ye, James.”
His expression broke into relief, and in the next instant he pulled her into his arms. Eloise clung to him, her hands gripping his shoulders as though she never wished to let go, her heart finally at peace.
He kissed her then, deeply and without restraint, and she returned it with equal fervor, all hesitation gone.
“Ye have nay idea what ye’ve done to me, lass,” he murmured against her lips.
She smiled softly, her forehead resting against his. “I think I do,” she whispered, her voice filled with warmth.
Eloise felt certain of her place, not as a guest or a pawn, but as something far more precious.
I am the Laird's betrothed.
Eloise burst into Beatrice’s bedchamber without so much as a knock, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining with tears. Beatrice startled from her writing desk, her quill blotting ink across the parchment as she turned in alarm.
“What has happened?” she cried, rising quickly. “Ye are cryin’ and red in the face, cousin, ye look as though ye’ve run from battle.”
Eloise laughed breathlessly, clutching her hands together as if she could scarcely contain herself. “It has happened,” she said, her voice trembling with joy. “James has asked me to be his wife, and I said aye.”
Beatrice blinked at her, her expression shifting from concern to utter confusion, and then to suspicion.
“Are ye feelin’ well, Eloise?” she asked slowly, stepping closer. “Have ye been poisoned again, for ye speak as though in a fever dream.”
Eloise let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Nay, I am quite well, I swear it,” she said, though her smile turned sheepish. “Oh, Beatrice… I must apologize to ye, for I have kept somethin' from ye.”
Beatrice crossed her arms, her brow lifting. “I had suspected as much,” she said. “Out with it, then.”
Eloise took a breath, her joy softening into earnest honesty. “The betrothal… it was never real,” she admitted. “James only claimed it to protect me from Drummond, to keep me safe beneath his roof.”
Beatrice’s mouth fell open, her eyes widening in astonishment. “A farce?” she echoed, incredulous. “All this time?”
Eloise nodded, stepping closer and taking her hands. “Aye… but now it is real, truly real, and he asked me proper.”
Beatrice stared at her a moment longer, then gave a soft, knowing huff. “Well, I was never fooled once,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “The way that man looks at ye? Nae even the saints themselves could feign such devotion.”
Eloise laughed through her tears, relief flooding her chest. “Ye are nae angry with me for keeping such a secret?” she asked.
Beatrice squeezed her hands and grinned. “Angry? Nay,” she said warmly. “Only glad ye’ve finally caught up to what the rest of us already kenned.”
Eloise laughed and the two cousins hugged in joy.
A few days later, the courtyard of Calibroch bustled with life as banners snapped in the wind and clans arrived one after another, their horses stamping and voices rising in greeting. Eloise stood at the steps, her heart pounding, when at last she saw a familiar carriage draw near.
The moment her father stepped down, she rushed forward, her breath catching in her throat.
“Father,” she whispered, her voice trembling as Alistair Whitmore took her hands, his face lined with remorse.
“Lass… I have wronged ye,” he said hoarsely. “I let fear and debt guide me, and I near lost ye because of it.”
Eloise’s eyes softened, and she squeezed his hands gently. “It is past now,” she said. “I forgive ye.”
Before another word could pass, her mother, Isobel Whitmore, swept forward and pulled Eloise into a fierce embrace, holding her as though she would never let go.
“Me brave girl,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I am so proud of ye, for standing strong when the world turned cruel.”
Eloise clung to her, emotion swelling in her chest. “I didnae ken if I would see ye again,” she admitted softly.
Isobel cupped her face, smiling through her tears. “Ye were always strong,” she said warmly.
James approached then, steady and composed, and Eloise turned with a small smile.
“Father, Mother… this is Laird MacAllister,” she said.
Alistair straightened, meeting his gaze with cautious respect, but James spoke first.
“Ye are family now,” he said firmly. “And I will see yer debts settled and yer honor restored, if ye swear to leave the gamblin' behind.”
Alistair blinked in surprise, then nodded deeply. “Ye have me word, me Laird,” he said. “And me thanks.”
Eloise took it all in with pride. She could not believe that her fate had turned to such a fortunate future.
She had set out on foot, running from an ill marriage agreement.
Then landed at Calibroch with a moody, handsome Laird.
Only to become tangled in secrets and a farce that would change her life forever.
I wouldnae have it any other way. He is a good man. The best of the Lairds of this land. He is mine, and I am his. Forever.