Chapter Twenty #2
There was no reason to repeat the truth, especially when it was cruel.
‘Rhona said her hatred kept her alive until the baby was birthed. Rhona admired hatred and especially anyone that hated Hamish. Because she was weak or maybe because Hamish didn’t care enough to know, Rhona was able to keep the pregnancy hidden. ’
‘Rhona gave the baby, me, to my parents? How did they know?’
‘Rhona only told me that the baby was given away to a woman who couldn’t conceive, who was desperate. There was no husband there. But I always dreamed the baby went to a cheerful home.’
‘That baby’s name was...is... Rory.’ He grabbed the blanket and returned it to his lap. ‘That’s why you say my name the way you do.’
‘Though I suspected, I didn’t know the baby was you.
What are the chances?’ She pulled a corner of the blanket, grateful when she felt the tug as he firmly held on to the bit that was half across his lap.
‘My entire life has been formed by the Lochmores.
From the tales of the Great Feud and how I felt about the baby who died, how I felt when Magnus died.
Both of those led me to become a healer, something I am blessed to be.
‘But learning of Rhona’s story and Hamish’s baby given away, and then you, Rory, arriving in the McCrieff courtyard. When I married you, I couldn’t be sure whether I did it for the clan, for myself, or because of the stories that were told to me.’
‘For yourself?’
‘I was...attracted to you.’
‘I see,’ he said, a quirk to his mouth that she loved. ‘That is good.’
She more than lifted her lips, she smiled.
She could feel it from ear to ear. It was good.
They were good. Flickering torchlight, cold crypt in the middle of spring, dead of night, but they were good.
She’d make certain it would happen despite the doubt in his eyes.
It would be up to her to erase that doubt, though it would be far more difficult than simply pouring a tincture.
Rory’s past and present would require time and healing.
For now, she’d show him she cared, that she loved.
‘In the end, right now, I know it doesn’t matter why I married you, I’m simply glad I did. ’
Rory had no happy answer to Ailsa’s bright smile or sweet words. ‘I as well, my wife, but it is not as simple as that.’
But he wanted it to be simple. He wanted it to be easy, because if it was, he’d be able to take the woman who sat next him into his arms. Hold her, comfort her, love her.
Not stare helplessly into her wide green eyes shimmering with tears in the flickering light of the torch.
Not tell her she shouldn’t, couldn’t, be glad they married.
‘I’m a McCrieff!’ he said. ‘With many people not wanting me ruling McCrieffs. Except, even if I am a McCrieff, I don’t deserve to rule. Who would want Hamish’s issue ruling the McCrieffs when he has done such harm?’
‘I want you to. My father most certainly does. There isn’t anyone worthier than you.’
Her words were no balm. ‘My blood’s a McCrieff, and not just anyone’s, but a man hated by many. And you were wrong. My mother was raped. He raped Marion.’
She tightened her lips. ‘Do you think you’re capable of that?’
He wanted to say no, but that would be a lie. ‘On our wedding night, I demanded you to undress so that I could consummate a marriage I had no intention of honouring.’
‘That’s not proof. In fact, I remember I made demands of my own.’
‘Because you’re fierce and intelligent. If you had been any other woman—’
‘You think if I had been weak, I would have just laid there on the bed for you? You can’t know women then. Remember, I wanted you before we were married, I wanted you that night.’
‘I seduced you and instead of honouring our marriage, I left. I left so that if there was a chance I needed to annul the marriage, I could take it.’
Wide green eyes no longer reflecting love or warmth. Just resignation on the truth of his words. ‘You were hurting; Paiden had just collapsed. You’re not Hamish.’
‘You can’t prove to me otherwise. Even before Paiden, I married you so that I’d make my own future. I married you because I wanted my own power and control. I didn’t care about the consequences or saving lives. I didn’t care.’
‘You wanted to talk to me alone. There was no reason for you to do so unless you wanted to see if we were compatible. If you didn’t care, you would have simply agreed to my father’s proposal.
’ Her expression resolute, she continued, ‘It doesn’t matter.
I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t see the man you truly are and, since we’re confessing it all, I wouldn’t have let you control me. ’
So true. So fortunate he married this woman.
Fortunate for him, but maybe not so for her.
‘I held a sword to your neck. I know your strength and it far outstrips mine. But still, I’m not worthy of it.
’ He felt restless. In the past, when he found himself in these confrontations, he’d storm off, lean against a wall, pick a fight with Paiden.
But here he sat near Ailsa and he was loath to move from her side. ‘My family isn’t worthy.’
‘Your family are the Lochmores. You have a mother and a father here.’
There wasn’t enough air to fill his lungs, and not enough words for him to convey the connections he shared with his wife. He felt as if they were as tangled as her gown’s laces. Impossible to unravel and still so very necessary.
‘Finley knows that I’m not his son,’ he said. ‘Whether he knows I’m Hamish’s or whether he’s talked to Helen about my birth, I don’t know. What I do know is that he loves my mother so very deeply that when she presented me to him, he claimed me.’
‘And that is why you’re worthy.’
‘Because a woman hated the man who raped her, so she denied him an heir by agreeing to give me away? Because I was stolen away in the middle of the night and given to a family who didn’t know quite what to do with me once they had me?
‘Helen, my mother, if you so insist, presented me to her own husband and pretended I was his. What does that make me? A lie.’
‘They love you. Your mother gave you the brooches. They’re significant, aren’t they? They were what you were expecting back at McCrieff Castle, not the necklace and the ring.’
‘They are very significant. When they weren’t in the chest sent to us after our wedding, I was certain our marriage would fail. These brooches that we wear now have been handed down for generations. They’re symbolic.’
‘And sentimental,’ she said reaching across their laps to take his hand.
‘I watched your parents and the love they had for them. So Helen waited to give them to you and me in front of all the clan. Your father didn’t stop her.
They love you, they’ve claimed you. Your mother gave you to this clan. You’re a Lochmore.’
In that truth, and with Ailsa’s touch, he was defeated.
Though deceit and lies surrounded them, there was still this connection with Ailsa, still this future that showed some hope.
This marriage, and wife, he desperately wanted.
The brooches they wore shouted to all the world their love and devotion for each other. There was hope.
Turning his hand so he now held hers, he gently pulled her across the bench to hold her that much tighter in his arms.
Ailsa welcomed her husband’s warmth and for a long time she simply welcomed this one moment between them. She told him everything in his life was something else and yet he appeared to be accepting it. Accepting her.
‘You believe me,’ she said quietly.
‘You asked me that before,’ he answered and she felt his words through his chest. ‘I believed in you even when I didn’t know you.
You have too much honesty and truth about you, Ailsa, it’s startling and wondrous.
I can’t understand it all. I do believe if you weren’t holding me right now, I’d spout words and feelings about my lack of deservedness.
But I don’t think you’ll let me talk of that much longer. ’
‘You do deserve it,’ she said. ‘You have my heart, Rory.’
She felt him shake his head. ‘You married me thinking I was the legitimate Lochmore heir. You gave your heart to a different man.’
‘I gave it to a man I barely knew, but I knew enough before I married you. Remember how observant I am. Merely a few hours in your company revealed to me your noble and honest heart. So it was very easy to give you mine.’
Slow steady heartbeats and breaths, she concentrated on that instead of the tension threading through him and, after a time, it eased. ‘You give me words of love when everything between us has fallen apart.’
‘Nothing is falling apart. I wouldn’t love a man who wasn’t deserving of it.’ She hesitated to talk more now there was peace between them, but it had to be said. ‘Now that a Lochmore and a McCrieff are wed, when our fathers die there is a chance for the clans to unite.’
He stiffened underneath her. ‘I won’t make promises I can’t keep.’
She tilted her head and he bowed his. ‘We’re married, you won’t talk of it?’
‘We shouldn’t. It’s treason with the Chiefs still living and, with the Great Feud, though we know other facts now, our clans won’t put much merit on our marriage.’ A muscle in his jaw tightened, released. ‘Has this been your purpose all along, Ailsa, to have the clans unite?’
‘I told you why I married you. I simply want to stop bloodshed. I will never forget Magnus or all the other injuries I and Rhona have healed over the years.’
‘Uniting our clans isn’t possible. After everything we’ve been through, you know that.’
She did, but something in her held on to that bright future. ‘And you? If you’re Chief you gain—’
‘No,’ he interrupted. ‘I’ve given up on control and power a long time ago, lass. Around the time you brandished your shears at me. Perhaps earlier than that, when I spied that hair of yours in the doorway.’