Chapter Sixteen
Mhàiri stood beside the great oak looking at Conan as they took their vows.
The weather was perfect. Not a cloud was in the sky.
The rain from the previous afternoon had passed on in the early hours, and since Neal’s back was no longer hurting, the rain was not going to return for the rest of the day.
The massive crowd of onlookers was indescribable.
Mhàiri had been told hundreds had come in, and she had seen many of them in and around the castle.
The great hall had been filled with lairds and ladies from clans all over Scotland.
The lower hall had been more than full with their elite guards.
Tents were everywhere. When she had gone to bathe in the morning, the loch had been crowded with women.
And yet she still had no idea exactly how many people had come to watch her and Conan marry until she had stood on that hill and looked out.
One could not see hills or grass. Only people.
It was incredible, astonishing, and almost beyond comprehension. It was also beautiful.
Conan had seen many beautiful women in his life.
His brother Conor had married one of the most stunning females he had ever seen.
Laurel with her light blond hair and blue-and-green-colored eyes could captivate a man’s soul with just a look.
But never had Conan seen anything or anyone who could compare with his Mhàiri.
He had seen her radiant in the past, but her beauty shined for all to see.
The afternoon sun created a halo effect around her flower-bedecked figure.
Mhàiri looked ethereal, almost surreal. Her dress was of the palest lavender satin, with a cream tulle overskirt—simple, elegant, and unadorned except at its hem and scooped neckline, where hundreds of seed pearls and lilac glass beads seemed to shimmer.
She carried a small posy of violets and cream roses, mirroring the flowers in her hair.
Mhàiri looked at him, and Conan could feel his heart melt.
Her smile could light up an area on a moonless night for miles.
And today, he was the reason behind her smile.
It humbled him. This beautiful, perfect creature loved him enough to be his wife.
He was not worthy of her. He never would be. But then, no one ever would be.
Mhàiri’s cheeks hurt. She could not stop smiling, and she did not want to.
The McTiernay nobody had thought would ever marry was pledging himself to her.
She had actually found a man to love. A man who loved her fully and completely.
Who knew who she was, what she needed, and how to make her truly happy.
Conan was not perfect, but he was perfect for her. They would argue and challenge each other probably daily, but they would also open each other’s minds in ways no one else could. She suspected one lifetime with this man was not going to be enough.
* * *
The happy couple waved to the crowd and headed to where several large bonfires had been erected and were waiting to be lit, signifying the wedding celebration was to begin.
Tonight, there would be no restrictions on the meat, the bread, or the ale.
All were to feast and be merry until there was not a drop left to drink or a morsel left to eat.
Maegan had been standing near Mhàiri, along with her other closest friends up on the hill. She had been paying attention to the ceremony and the vows, but she had also been scanning the crowd as well.
A week ago, Seamus had said they were going to talk directly after the wedding ceremony, whenever it took place.
The comment had left her anxious because she knew what he was going to demand.
Seamus wanted a future. He wanted a wife.
He wanted her to be that wife. And he wanted to know if that was a dream he needed to let go of or one she was willing to share with him.
All week, Maegan had struggled with the answer.
Her heart wanted two men. It was impossible for her to choose, but Mhàiri had pointed out an inconvenient truth.
Seamus was not forcing her to choose; her heart had forced that choice upon her when it had fallen for Seamus.
Because if Clyde had returned, would she not have to make a choice then?
Would she give up a man she had loved for years for Seamus?
Or would she choose a man she probably no longer knew over Seamus, who knew and loved her for who she was today?
Maegan was honestly not sure. She loved Clyde. She had loved him, body and soul, for so long she wondered if it was even possible to split him from her hopes, her dreams . . . her heart. She was not sure she could. And would it be fair to love Seamus, but not in the same way?
It had been a week, and all Maegan had were questions. She still lacked answers. But to Seamus, no response would be an answer.
She could not reject her love for Clyde. And yet, she could not lose Seamus. Just the thought of Seamus not being in her life made her tremble with fear and ache that physically hurt.
Maegan scanned the crowd again, looking for Seamus’s tall frame and dark blond hair.
Her eyes were moving from one person to the next when they landed on one face that she would always recognize she had dreamed of it so many times.
It was one that, until that very moment, she had never truly believed she would see again.
Clyde.
All the McTiernay brothers had the same dark brown hair, but only two had gray eyes. The first—Conor—and the last—Clyde.
Clyde had come home.
He was here. And yet he was not, for it was clear he did not want anyone to know he was here.
He looked different. So different that people who stood right next to him, who knew him and should have recognized him by sight, had no idea Clyde McTiernay was in their presence.
He was much larger than she remembered and he wore a full beard.
His youthful lankiness had disappeared and had been replaced with a man’s body.
Muscles rippled underneath his leine. His arms were massive, and his hands looked calloused from hours wielding a weapon.
He appeared relaxed, and yet his stance made her think he was always ready for an attack.
His gaze was on the happy couple saying their vows and held a strangely detached quality that was disturbing. What had happened to him?
Then, without warning, his eyes shifted to hers. Nothing else about him moved, but in those few seconds of mutual recognition, Maegan saw it. Love. Pain. Defeat. Despair. And then it was gone. But it was too late. She had seen the truth.
In that moment, she made up her mind. She loved Seamus. She did. He was her best friend, her confidant, her support. But he was not her soul mate. Her heart was seared with anguish seeing Clyde hurting so much.
As soon as the ceremony was at a point she could move, Maegan started running.
But Clyde had started moving too, and he was unnaturally adept at maneuvering through crowds.
Maegan refused to give up and kept charging through, fighting a crowd that wanted to go the opposite direction she was headed in.
But finally she spotted him once more and started picking up speed.
She knew that Clyde thought that he had lost her because he did not increase his gait once he was alone.
She followed him as he made his way through all the tents and temporary stable setups until he reached one.
He stopped, untied the reins of a horse, and was leading the animal out of the penned area when he saw Maegan.
His jaw tightened and his body froze.
Maegan, however, was not inclined to stare and launched herself at him, hugging him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re home. Clyde, you’re home,” she whispered into his chest. Nothing felt better than when his arms curved around her and held her close.
Maegan felt his mouth in her hair. She absorbed the trembles that went through his frame. She inhaled the one scent that could only be described as Clyde. He was home.
“I’ve waited for so long for you to come back to me.” Her face was pressed into him, muffling her voice. “But I knew you would. I knew it.”
And then it happened.
Clyde changed. Maegan could feel it. It was as if someone had poured ice water into his veins.
He released her, gripped her shoulders, and pushed her away from him.
“I did not return to you, and I am not home. I came simply to see my brother marry. Now that I have, I am leaving and I do not intend to return again.”
Maegan’s breath caught in her throat. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered. “You love me.” She reached out and grabbed his forearm. She stared into mercury eyes and saw the truth. “I can see it. You can say what you want to leave, but you cannot deny that you still love me.”
Clyde stood for what seemed like an eternity, quiet and not moving, before he spoke.
“Aye. I loved you. And you loved me at one time.” His eyes swept down her frame and back up.
“But I am not who I was. You no longer know me. If you did, you would know that I don’t have the power to love anymore.
That emotion was stripped from me long ago so, if you have been waiting for my return, don’t. This is no longer my home.”
Maegan’s hands flew to her mouth. Her eyes were wide with shock and pain. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do. I’m not coming back, Maegan,” he said in a resolute voice. “And I am not coming back to you.”
Maegan stumbled back. She had felt the impact of Clyde’s words as if he had struck her physically.