Chapter 27
Before dawn the next morning, a footman stepped through the open door, carrying Ceana’s traveling chest.
Oscar stood beside the wall where he had spent the night pacing until his legs ached and then sitting against the stone whenever the silence behind the locked door became unbearable. His clothes bore the creases of the previous day. Stubble darkened his jaw, and sleeplessness left his eyes raw.
Mairi walked past him with a basket containing oatcakes, cheese, and dried meat. A covered flask hung from one wrist. Through the passage window, he could see two stable boys harnessing the horses to the covered carriage.
Ceana was leaving because he couldn’t accept the pregnancy as fact. He couldn’t smile and agree that the child in her belly was worth more than her life.
He no longer doubted her; that much was evident. His fear had found the cruelest words available and forced them out of his mouth before his sense could stop them.
The fear remained. If he let himself look beyond the coming months, all he could see was blood and Ceana’s lifeless body.
The footman turned toward the stairs, leaving the door open.
Oscar glanced into the chamber. The pale dawn light lay across the bed. A green hair ribbon was wound around the carved post where Ceana usually slept. He sighed at the sight. She had left it with the gowns and the other things he had bought her after their marriage.
He was still staring at it when she emerged wearing one of the traveling gowns she had brought from Morrag, a plain cloak fastened over it. Her hair had been drawn into a tight braid. She looked toward the stairs, then at Mairi and the servants waiting below, deliberately ignoring him.
“Ceana, give me a moment.”
She stopped at the landing. “I already did, me Laird. There is nothin’ else ye could say to me.”
The formal address struck deeper than her anger could have.
Oscar crossed only half the distance between them, leaving enough space for her to refuse him without retreating. “I was wrong. I ken ye believed every word ye told me. Ye didnae lie.”
Ceana looked up at his face, though her eyes settled on his cheek. “Yer belief came after ye made our child sound like a death sentence; that is the problem.”
“I was afraid.” His throat tightened around everything he could not say. “Give me time.”
“This is me givin’ ye time, me Laird.”
She descended before he could speak again.
For a minute, all he could do was stand still. Then he found his footing and followed her.
Muriel waited in the courtyard, and he watched as she embraced Ceana and pressed a small packet of dried mint into her hand. “For the road, should yer stomach trouble ye. Write when ye arrive.”
“I will.”
While Mairi showed Ceana where she had placed the provisions, Muriel stepped up to Oscar.
“Ye cannae help me stop her? She doesnae have to leave.”
She kept her voice low. “Ye took away her choice once when ye married her, Braither. Daenae do it again.”
His attention remained on Ceana. He remembered vividly how he had once sent men to seize her beneath a borrowed mask and carried her through these gates because he had decided to keep her. Muriel’s warning required no answer.
He was still staring when Paisley approached Ceana with her hands clasped before her. “Was it the promise about other bairns? Is that why ye are leavin’?”
Ceana bent until their faces were level. “Ye made nay cruel accusation, Paisley. Ye caused none of this.”
“I made Da promise.”
“And I love ye. I love Tommy too. Nothin’ either of ye said has changed that.”
Paisley swallowed. “Will ye come back?”
“I daenae ken yet.” Ceana reached for her hand. “But until then, I will answer every letter ye and Tommy send me.”
Tommy rushed forward and clutched the edge of her cloak. “I willnae hide another ring. I willnae lock another door or play another trick, I promise.”
“The treasure hunt didnae send me away.” Ceana rested her hand on the back of his head. “Yer map is safe inside me chest.”
He kept hold of her until she kissed his hair. Only then did his grip loosen.
Ness head-butted her dress as she approached the carriage and planted one hoof on the step. Ceana stroked the goat between the horns before Tommy gently drew her back.
“Ye must stay with me,” he whispered.
Oscar stepped up to the carriage and offered her his hand. Her eyes settled on his for a second. Then Lennan offered his hand from the other side, and she took it to climb inside.
Oscar lowered his empty hand. “Lennan and four guards will accompany ye,” he said. “Yer faither will receive a sealed message from me.”
“Four men are unnecessary.”
“The roads remain uncertain after Bryce’s defeat. The escort stays.”
Ceana settled against the cushions without answering.
Lennan waited until the door had closed before speaking quietly. “Do ye want men stationed beyond Morrag? They could continue sendin’ reports.”
“Nay. Report while she travels. Once she is safely inside her faither’s gates, all of ye return. Nay MacKane man remains to watch her.”
The gatekeeper stood beside the lever, waiting for Oscar’s command. One sentence could close the gates and keep Ceana within reach. His command would be obeyed before the horses advanced another step.
No, he wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t. He had first brought her to MacKane after ordering her seized and carried away. If he prevented her departure now, then marriage had changed nothing about his need to control her choices.
“Open the gates,” he called.
The gates rose, and Ceana’s carriage passed beneath them with Lennan and the mounted guards.
Oscar kept his eyes on them until the pines swallowed the final rider.
By the second afternoon, every bump in the final road to Morrag drove an ache across Ceana’s lower back. She had managed half an oatcake that morning and a bit of cheese at midday, enough to settle her stomach without irritating it. Beneath her cloak, one hand remained on her belly.
The memory of the cold loch water returned to her first, followed by Oscar’s mouth against hers. She remembered his fingers locking around hers on their wedding night. It was strange, just how vivid these things were.
Fortunately, Morrag’s gates soon came into view beyond the trees.
The carriage had not fully stopped when Heather hurried down the steps with David close behind her. Both glanced at the MacKane riders and searched the carriage after Ceana descended alone.
Heather reached her first. “Look at me, lass.” Her hands moved over Ceana’s face, then caught Ceana’s gloved fingers and turned them over. “Are ye hurt?”
“Have Oscar or the children been harmed?” David asked.
“Everyone lives. I need to come inside.”
They took her to the drawing room without pressing for more. Heather removed Ceana’s cloak and ordered broth, bread, and warm water. David remained beside the fireplace until Ceana had swallowed several mouthfuls.
Lennan stayed long enough to place Oscar’s sealed letter in David’s hand. “For ye alone, Laird Morrag.”
David set it beside his chair without opening it. Lennan bowed and withdrew.
“Has Daphne written?” Ceana asked.
Heather brought a folded sheet from the small chest near the window. Ceana recognized her sister’s hand before the page reached her.
“She is safe,” Heather assured her. “She has chosen where she wishes to live, but she will give us nay detail.”
Ceana pressed the page to her lips and drew her first full breath since leaving MacKane Castle. Daphne was alive and free. She had chosen to keep even her from knowing where she was.
“Angus is Laird Gilmore now,” David said. “He has signed a peace treaty. Bryce’s raids are over, and his men have withdrawn.”
“I see,” Ceana said.
His gaze lowered to the letter at his side. “Fear of Bryce led me to arrange Daphne’s marriage. When Oscar took ye, I considered the alliance before I asked what ye wanted. I willnae ask ye to forgive me.”
Heather set her cup down. “Why have ye come here without yer husband?”
Ceana placed a hand on her belly. “I am with child.”
Heather paused, her fingers still curled around the cup, and David’s hand tightened on the back of his chair.
Then Heather crossed the room and pulled Ceana into her arms. “Oh, me darlin’! Congratulations! Are ye well? Has Muriel examined ye?”
“She did yesterday.”
David came around the chair. He waited until Heather released her, and then wrapped both arms around her and kissed her brow.
“Me daughter,” he said, his voice rough. “And me grandchild. Ye will both have everythin’ we can give ye.”
Ceana laughed through her tears. “Perhaps the midwife counted wrong, and Daphne was born second.”
Heather cupped her damp cheeks. “I never believed fertility followed the order of yer birth.”
Ceana caught her mother’s wrists. “Then why did ye let me believe it?”
Heather’s hands went still. “The older women repeated the tale until everyone treated it as fact. I feared givin’ ye hope I couldnae guarantee. When yer courses came irregularly, I refused to say anythin’ in case… well, in case ye never conceived.”
A bitter laugh escaped Ceana’s lips. “Ye watched me plan me whole life around it, Maither.”
“Aye,” Heather uttered, her eyes filling with tears. “I should have challenged them. I should have taken yer fear seriously.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I failed ye, Ceana. I watched ye shape yer life around it, and I said too little.”
Ceana bent into her mother’s shoulder. She had expected years of returning alone to her chamber while Daphne received every offer worth considering. She had entered Oscar’s study and offered him a childless bargain because she believed motherhood belonged to other women.
Her tears soaked into her mother’s gown as she held her.
David stood near them with one hand over his mouth. “I treated both me daughters as answers to the men I feared. Daphne could quiet Bryce through marriage, and ye could secure MacKane. I am yer faither first, but I behave as yer Laird.”
Ceana wiped her face, sniffling. “Oscar doesnae want the bairn. That is why he didnae come with me. He thinks I might die like his first wife.”
David’s jaw hardened. His hand clenched at his side before he opened it. “Do ye want me to write to him or summon him here?”
Ceana blinked. “What? Nay, I willnae have me faither force me husband toward me.”
Heather stroked her braid. “Oscar buried his first wife after childbirth. I suppose the thought of buryin’ ye as well scares him. The only way through this is for him to face what he has done before he can come around.”
“I already want this child, Maither. I did from the moment Muriel told me I’m pregnant.”
“Then this child is wanted here.”
Heather called for more plain food and sent word that a trusted healer was to attend to Ceana the following morning.
Once Ceana had eaten again, her mother insisted on rest. She walked to her old chamber alone. Once there, she removed her gloves and laid both hands on her still-flat belly. She could feel no movement yet. But all that mattered was that the child was there.
“Ye will be loved, little one. I have chosen to love ye,” she whispered.
She stepped toward the window, feeling the light evening breeze caress her face.
“Now, yer faither must make his own choice.”