Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Maighread found Tavish in the small chamber adjacent to the Great Hall, leaning against the window frame and staring out at the loch. Three days since the council meeting. Three days since he'd stood before those skeptical men and defended their betrothal with a conviction that had surprised her.
She'd been avoiding him since then, unsure how to navigate their new reality. The rules they'd set felt both too restrictive and not nearly enough. But they couldn't avoid each other forever. Not when the entire castle watched their every interaction.
"We need to talk," she said from the doorway.
He turned, his expression guarded. "Aye. I suppose we dae."
"About our story. The one we're supposed tae have been living fer months.
" She entered the room, closing the door behind her.
Improper, but necessary. "Kathleen says the servants are already gossiping.
Half think we're madly in love, half think it's a political arrangement. We need everyone believing the former."
Something eased in his face. "Ye're right. We've been fumbling through it badly. Time tae get our tale straight before someone catches us in another contradiction."
"Agreed." He moved to the table, gesturing for her to sit. "So. Let's start at the beginning. Where did we meet?"
"The Beltane gathering in Edinburgh. Three years ago." She settled onto the bench. "We agreed on that already."
"Aye, but what happened after I caught yer wine cup?" His eyes glinted. "Did we speak? Dance? Sneak off behind the stables for a quick tumble?"
Heat flooded her cheeks. "We did nae tumble anywhere!"
"Pity. That would make the story more interesting." He grinned. "Fine. We spoke. About what?"
"About..." Her mind went blank. "About the weather?"
"The weather." His tone went flat. "Lass, if all we discussed was clouds and rain, I'm a terrible romantic."
"Then what should we have talked about?"
"Ye." He leaned back, studying her. "I would have asked about yer life, yer interests. Tried to make ye laugh. Complimented yer eyes—they're quite striking, by the way. Storm grey with flecks of silver when the light hits them just right."
Her breath caught. "That's… oddly specific."
"I'm practicing." His voice roughened slightly. "Convincing lies require vivid details."
"Right. Details." She forced her mind back to the task. "So ye complimented me eyes. Then what?"
"Then ye blushed, exactly like ye're daeing now, and tried tae change the subject. But I persisted. Asked if ye'd dance with me."
"And I refused because I didnae ken ye."
"But I convinced ye anyway. Promised I was harmless." His smile turned wicked. "Which we both ken is a complete lie, but ye believed it at the time."
"Did I?"
"Aye. Because I'm charming when I want tae be.
" He stood, moved around the table. "So we danced.
One dance became two. By the third, we were talking like old friends.
Ye told me about the first signs of yer faither's illness, yer fears about what would happen tae the clan if it got serious.
I told ye about losing me own faither, the pressure of living up tae his legacy. "
"That's… actually quite good." She watched him pace, noting how naturally the story flowed. "What happened after the dancing?"
"I walked ye back tae yer chambers. Proper and respectful, accompanied by yer cousin." He paused. "But before I left, I asked if I could write tae ye. And ye said aye."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that." He met her gaze. "Because sometimes ye meet someone and just ken they're going tae matter. That they're going tae change everything."
The air between them felt suddenly charged. Maighread swallowed hard. "And then we corresponded fer three years?"
"Aye. Letters discussing everything—politics, poetry, our fears and hopes. We didnae see each other because ye were still young and I was busy training tae become me braither’s right hand." He tilted his head. "When did I ask ye tae marry me?"
"Recently. When I travelled tae the Lowlands tae visit me cousin, because ye kenned me faither was getting’ worse and ye wanted tae make it official."
"How romantic. We need something good."
"Like what?"
"Like…" He thought for a moment. "Like I arrived at yer cousin’s unexpectedly. Rode through a storm tae reach ye because I couldn't wait another day. Found ye in the solar, working on embroidery—"
"I hate embroidery."
"Reading then. Found ye reading by the fire. Yer hair was loose, which it never is in public, and the firelight turned it copper and gold." His voice dropped lower. "I crossed the room, knelt beside yer chair, and told ye I couldn't live another day without knowing if ye'd be me wife."
Her mouth had gone dry. "That's… quite dramatic."
"It's a proposal. It should be dramatic." He moved closer. "Ye were shocked, naturally. Stammered something about needing time to think. But I caught yer hand, kissed yer knuckles, and said I'd wait as long as needed. That ye were worth waiting fer."
"And what did I say?"
"Ye said aye." He smiled. "Nae immediately. First ye made me promise tae speak tae yer faither properly. Tae dae everything correctly. But then ye said aye, and I kissed ye fer the first time."
Heat pooled low in her belly. "We're supposed tae have kissed?"
"If we've been courting fer three years, surely there's been some… physical contact." His gaze dropped to her mouth. "A stolen kiss, perhaps? A moment alone when propriety slipped?"
"We remained proper," she said firmly, though her voice wavered slightly. "As any honorable couple would."
"Aye, of course. Completely proper." His eyes gleamed with unholy amusement as he stepped even closer.
"But propriety and desire aren't always compatible, are they?
So maybe there were moments. Times when we were alone and the temptation was strong.
When me hand lingered at yer waist a moment too long.
When a kiss lasted until we were both breathless. "
Her breath came short and fast. "Ye're trying tae fluster me."
"Is it working?"
"Yes," she admitted. "And it's wildly inappropriate."
"But effective." He stepped back, grinning. "See how easily ye blush? How yer breathing changes when I talk like that? That's what sells the lie. That's what convinces people there's genuine attraction between us, even if we've been perfectly chaste."
She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. "Ye're terrible."
"I'm thorough." He returned to his chair. "Now. Back tae the story. We've been chaste. Stolen kisses and heated moments, but naething more. Ye insisted on waiting for the wedding night, and I respected that."
"Why would ye respect it?"
"Because I'm honorable. Patient. Willing tae wait fer what I want." His voice roughened again. "And because when we finally dae come taegether as husband and wife, it'll be that much sweeter fer the anticipation."
By all the saints, how daes he make everything sound so…provocative?
"Pet names." He leaned forward. "What dae I call ye in private?"
"Maighread?"
"Too formal. Lovers have endearments." He studied her face. "Mo ghràdh? Too obvious. Mo chridhe? Too serious." His smile turned soft. "What about 'lass'? I already call ye that naturally."
"Lass works." Her heart hammered stupidly. "And what dae I call ye?"
"Whatever comes naturally. Though I'm partial tae 'handsome bastard' or 'insufferable man.'"
Despite everything, she laughed. "Those aren't endearments."
"Aren't they? Sounded affectionate tae me." He grinned. "All right. Let's test the full story. I'll ask questions, ye answer. Ready?"
"We have the bones of it now," he said. "The rest will come naturally as we live it. Small details we add as needed."
She nodded, suddenly aware of how long they'd been alone together. How close they were sitting. How his presence filled the small chamber.
"We should join the others fer supper," she said, not quite meeting his eyes. "Before people start gossiping about where we've been."
"Let them gossip. Gives credence tae our story." But he stood, offering his hand to help her to her feet.
She took it, the contact sending warmth up her arm. When she was standing, he didn't immediately release her hand. Their fingers remained loosely linked for a moment longer than necessary.
"Maighread?" His thumb brushed her knuckles once, briefly.
"Aye?"
"We'll make this work. Whatever it takes."
The quiet conviction in his voice made something shift in her chest. "I ken we will." She squeezed his hand. "Now come."