Epilogue #2
When she finally pulled back, she was smiling despite the tears tracking down her face. Catherine appeared at her elbow, gentle hands guiding her up.
"Come on, lass. Let’s dance some more and let the newlyweds have some peace." Catherine winked at Tòrr.
Nessa laughed and let herself be led back to their table, already chattering about the next dance.
Tòrr watched them go, something warm and tight settling in his chest.
"She's goin' tae be alright," Liliane whispered beside him.
"Aye. She is." He turned back to his wife, studying the way torchlight played across her features. "And so are ye."
"Because of ye." Her hand found his again, fingers threading together like they were made to fit. "Ye gave me this. Safety. Family. A home where I dinnae have tae be afraid."
"Ye gave me the same." His thumb traced circles on her palm. "I was content before. Content tae be laird, tae serve me clan, tae dae me duty. But ye—" He shook his head, struggling for words. "Ye made me want more. Made me believe I could have more."
"And dae ye?" Her voice dropped lower. "Have more?"
"Aye." He leaned in until their foreheads touched. "I have everythin'."
Tòrr, his siblings, Liliane and his friend Campbell were all siting in the study with a dram of whisky in hand. The fire was crackling in the hearth, and everybody sat expectantly. That morning, the day following the feast, the laird had asked them all to join him for a drink that afternoon.
Tòrr got up to pour himself some more whisky and glanced at his wife and the men in the room. After they all gave a subtle nod, he started to speak.
“Me dear sisters, I have summoned you here because I've made a decision.
With the support of me braithers and the counsel of Laird Cameron—" he nodded toward Aidan, "—we've determined that ye need tae be moved tae a safer location.
In three days' time, Catherine, Sofia, and Alyson, ye will travel tae Cameron lands, where ye'll remain under Aidan's protection until the threat from the Pact has passed. "
The reaction was immediate, with gasps from the girls. Catherine's chair scraped back as she shot to her feet.
"What? Ye cannae be serious."
"I'm entirely serious." Tòrr met her furious gaze steadily. "Keppoch will be a target. Campbell will make sure of it. I willnae risk havin' ye here when the retaliation comes."
"So ye're sendin' us away?" Catherine's hands balled into fists at her sides. "Like parcels tae be delivered? Without even consultin' us first?"
"Catherine—" Tòrr gave her a warning look.
"Nay! I have a say in this. We all dae. This is our home, Tòrr. Our clan. Ye cannae just decide tae ship us off tae strangers because it's convenient."
"It's nae about convenience," Michael interjected, his tone careful. "It's about keepin' ye safe. All of ye."
"I dinnae need ye tae keep me safe!" Catherine's voice had risen, drawing the attention of the entire hall now. "I'm nae some helpless child who needs tae be hidden away. I'm a MacDonald. This is me home, and I have a right tae defend it alongside everyone else."
"Ye're a woman," Aidan Cameron said quietly, standing from his own seat.
"And before ye bite me head off fer sayin' it, I mean that as a statement of fact, nae an insult.
Ye're also the sister of a laird who's just made powerful enemies.
That makes ye a target, Catherine. A tool they could use against yer braithers if they got their hands on ye. "
"So yer solution is tae run?" She whirled on him, eyes blazing. "Tae hide like cowards?"
"Me solution is tae be strategic." Aidan's voice remained calm, but Tòrr could see the tension in his friend's shoulders.
"Yer braithers need tae ken their family is safe so they can focus on defendin' Keppoch and preparin' fer whatever comes.
If ye're here, ye're a distraction. A vulnerability.
At me keep, ye'll be protected and away from the immediate danger. "
"Protected." Catherine spat the word. "Ye mean imprisoned."
"I mean safe." Aidan's jaw tightened. "There's a difference."
"Is there? Because from where I'm standin', it sounds like ye're all decidin' me fate without givin' me a choice in the matter."
"Because ye're bein' unreasonable!" Aidan's calm finally cracked, frustration bleeding into his voice.
"Christ, woman, dae ye think I want tae be havin' this argument?
I came here as a favor tae yer braithers, tae offer protection tae their family.
Dinnae act like we're the villains fer tryin' tae keep ye alive. "
"Enough." Tòrr's voice cut through the tension like a sword through silk. "Both of ye, sit down."
Catherine opened her mouth to protest, but something in Tòrr's expression stopped her. She sat, rigid with fury. Aidan followed suit, his own expression stormy.
"Catherine, I ken ye're angry," Tòrr said, moderating his tone slightly. "I ken this feels like we're makin' decisions without ye. But this is nae a debate. It's nae a discussion. It's a command from yer laird, and ye will obey it."
Beside Tòrr, Liliane shifted, her hand finding his. When he glanced at her, she was watching the exchange with sympathy and concern written across her features.
After a few more minutes of awkward conversation and silence from the girs, the party broke up and just Tòrr and Liliane remained by the fire.
"I'm nae sure which of them tae pity more," she murmured. "Yer sister or yer closest friend."
Despite everything, Tòrr felt his lips twitch toward a smile. "Neither would thank ye fer the pity."
"Nay, they wouldnae." Her thumb brushed across his knuckles. "But Catherine will come tae understand why this is necessary eventually."
“I really hope so,” he murmured into her hair, as he pulled Liliane close, needing her warmth.
A month later, peace brings new dreams—and one vow will change Tòrr and Liliane’s lives forever. Read now to witness the dawn of their new beginning…