Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They'd moved to the solar afterward, ostensibly to review some clan documents but mostly to maintain the appearance of spending time together. The room was warmer, more comfortable, with windows overlooking the courtyard and an open door that made their presence appropriately visible.
Tavish had just started to relax—dangerously so—when he heard the footsteps. Small, rapid, multiple sets. His entire body tensed.
Children.
"Dae ye hear—" he started, but it was too late.
Three of them burst through the doorway. Two girls and a boy, none older than eight, faces flushed from running. They skidded to a halt when they spotted him and Maighread standing close together.
"Lady Maighread!" the older girl gasped. "We've been looking everywhere fer ye!"
Maighread's hand slipped from his, though she smiled warmly at the bairns. "What's wrong, Ailsa? Has something happened?"
"Nay, naething's wrong." The girl's attention fixed on Tavish, eyes going wide. "Is he yer betrothed?"
Tavish fought the urge to bolt from the room.
Children terrified him in ways armed men never had. They asked impossible questions with absolute innocence. Expected answers he didn't know how to give. Looked at him with trust he hadn't earned and didn't deserve.
"Aye, this is Tavish MacBain." Maighread's voice stayed gentle, natural. "Tavish, this is Ailsa, her sister Moira, and their brother Finn. Their father serves in our guard."
The boy stepped forward, craning his neck to look up at Tavish. "Are ye really going tae marry Lady Maighread?"
Tavish's throat closed. He managed a nod but couldn't force words past his lips.
"When's the wedding?" Moira piped up. "Will there be a feast? Can we come?"
"Are ye in love?" Ailsa's question came breathless, romantic. "Like in the bard's songs? Did ye slay a dragon tae win her hand?"
"I—" Tavish started, then stopped. What was he supposed to say? The truth would shatter their innocent excitement. Lies felt wrong spoken to children.
He looked helplessly at Maighread.
She stepped in smoothly, crouching to the children's level. "There will indeed be a wedding, though we haven't set a date yet. And aye, there will be a feast where everyone's invited."
"But are ye in love?" Ailsa persisted. "Truly?"
Maighread's cheeks colored prettily. "What a question."
"Mama says people should only marry fer love," Finn announced. "Otherwise they'll be miserable ferever."
"Yer mama is very wise." Maighread straightened slightly. "And ye needn't worry. Tavish and I care fer each other very much."
"How much?" Moira demanded.
Maighread glanced at Tavish, something soft passing between them. Then she crouched to the children's level. "Ye want tae hear about the courtship?"
"Aye!" all three chorused.
"All right then. But just the beginning, mind. Then ye must help Cook." She gestured for them to sit on the nearby bench. "It was three years ago, at the Beltane gathering in Edinburgh..."
Tavish settled beside her as she spoke, watching the children's faces light up. She described the crowded hall, the music, the dancing. How she'd been holding a cup of wine when someone jostled her.
"And that's when I caught it," Tavish added, entering the story naturally. "Right before it spilled all over her lovely gown."
"Were ye scared?" Moira asked.
"Terrified," Tavish admitted with a grin. "She looked ready tae murder whoever had nearly ruined her dress."
"But then he smiled," Maighread continued, "and asked if I'd dance with him."
"Did ye say aye?" Ailsa breathed.
"Nae at first. I told him I didn't dance with strangers." Maighread's eyes met Tavish's briefly. "But he was very persistent."
"I promised I was harmless," Tavish said. "Which was a complete lie, but she believed me anyway."
The children giggled.
"We danced three times that night," Maighread said. "And by the third dance, we were talking like old friends. About everything—our families, our hopes, things we'd never told anyone else."
"And then what?" Finn demanded.
"Then I had tae leave," Tavish said. "But before I did, I asked if I could write tae her. And she said aye."
"Fer three whole years, we wrote letters tae each other," Maighread added. "Until finally, Tavish couldn't wait any longer."
"What did ye dae?" Ailsa asked.
Tavish leaned forward conspiratorially. "I rode through a terrible storm tae reach her. Found Lady Maighread reading by the fire and knelt right there beside her chair."
"What did ye say?" all three children asked at once.
"I told her I couldn't live another day without knowing if she'd be me wife." His voice gentled as he looked at Maighread. "And after making me promise tae speak tae her faither properly, she said aye."
The children sighed happily.
"Now then," Maighread said, standing. "That's quite enough romance fer one afternoon. Off with ye tae help Cook. Those turnips won't fetch themselves."
"But—" Ailsa started.
"Now," Maighread said firmly, though she was smiling. "Or there'll be nay more stories later."
That got them moving. They scrambled toward the door, chattering excitedly about the tale.
Ailsa paused at the threshold, looking back at Tavish. "Ye're very tall," she told him seriously. "And ye have kind eyes. I think ye'll make Lady Maighread happy."
Then she was gone, her siblings trailing after.
Silence crashed back into the room.
Tavish released a breath he hadn't known he was holding.
"They're harmless." Maighread moved to close the door properly. "Just curious."
"They ask impossible questions."
"They ask simple questions. Ye just dinnae ken how tae answer them."
Silence crashed back into the room.
Tavish moved to the window, watching the children race across the courtyard below, still chattering excitedly. "I guess that went well."
"Better than well." Maighread joined him at the window.
"We told them a story. That's all."
"Ye made it feel real. Fer them." She paused. "And fer everyone who'll hear it repeated. By tomorrow, half the castle will ken the romantic tale of how we met."
He glanced at her. "That was the point, wasn't it?"
"Aye." But something in her voice had shifted. "Though I'm starting tae wonder where the performance ends and the truth begins."
Tavish turned to face her fully. "Maybe that's nae a bad thing. Maybe it's easier tae convince everyone else when we start believing it ourselves."
"Is that what's happening?" Her grey eyes searched his face. "Are ye starting tae believe it?"
He could deflect. Make a joke. Step back behind the careful walls they'd built.
Instead, he took a step closer. "Aye. I think I am."
Her breath caught, but she didn't move away. They stood there, close enough that he could see the slight tremor in her hands, the rapid pulse at her throat.
Voices drifted from the corridor outside. Servants passing. Reminders that they weren't truly alone.
"We should join the others fer supper," Maighread said finally, though she made no move to leave.
"Aye. We should." Tavish stepped back deliberately, giving her space. "Before people start wondering where we've been."
"Let them wonder." She moved past him toward the door, pausing at the threshold as if she was about to say something. Then she trailed off, then simply left.
Tavish remained at the window, watching her cross the courtyard below, and realized with perfect clarity that the line between pretense and truth had already disappeared.