by Terry Spear
Gavan had yet to behave as her true love and the future husband she’d hoped he would be. Seeing him stand silently in the bailey after Keenan spoke to her and after Fenella publicly kissed Keenan had been one of the saddest, most painful, experiences of her life. More than disappointment weighed on her heart. She felt betrayed.
But truly, did she have any right? She had forced her company upon him on the trail, then made his long-anticipated homecoming awkward and unhappy. She’d ruined his reunion with the lass he left behind. No wonder he was ambivalent about her presence. Aye, he seemed to like her. He was attracted to her, but between opportunity and love lay a huge gap. Was that all she was to him? Another lass, another opportunity?
Nay, he’d restrained himself. He’d protected her. From bandits, from himself, even from her father. She appreciated his care. She did. But any man could protect her. Only one could be her true love.
To him, she was only another lass deserving his protection and nothing more. To her, he was everything. She could not deny her own desires. Around him, her common sense fled. And Corrie seemed determined to get them together. Because of her bluebells, the moon, and the stones?
Nay, suddenly nothing made sense. She must leave. Her da was right. She’d had no business following Gavan, especially not on the pretext of letting Corrie have a run. If he had not done so by now, Gavan would never offer for her. She’d lied the worst, most damaging kind of lie—to herself. Wanting him, or what he represented, had impaired her judgment. She should have tied up her hound, even if she had to keep her confined for days, until Gavan’s trail went cold. She had no choice but to go home and, when Gavan failed to come for her, face whatever punishment her father deemed fit. She just hoped it wouldn’t last a lifetime.
***
Marsali did not see Gavan in the bailey. Her heart sank yet again. After his failure to claim her yesterday, she had resolved to return home with her father, but for him to miss her leave-taking? That was the greatest betrayal of all. Or the clearest message he could send. She’d meant so little to him he could not be bothered to bid her Godspeed.
Her father and his men surrounded her horse. Corrie stood off to the side, head swinging from side to side, ears and tail down in a way Marsali could only interpret as anxiety. Corrie’s dismay hurt her almost as much as her own. Suddenly, tears filled her eyes, making her view of the people around her waver and blur. She blinked them back. She must not cry. If Gavan suddenly appeared, she would not be able to see him. Aye, Corrie would and would alert her to his presence. But Corrie stayed silent, moving among the crowd of MacNabbs there to see them off, searching, sniffing the air and using her sharp eyes.
“Where is he?” she murmured softly to herself, just as Keenan came up to her.
“Father sent him on an errand away from the keep,” he said, his voice as low as hers had been. “Gavan had told him how Corrie kept following him, so father thought yer departure would be easier if he wasn’t here to draw her back.” He took her hand. “I’m sorry, Marsali. It seemed the kindest way. Gavan did argue, but the laird wouldna be denied.”
Biting her lip, she lowered her quivering chin. So he had meant to be here for her. Knowing that did little to ease her pain.
“’Tis no’ meant to make your father doubt yer word.”
She managed a snort.
Keenan nodded, then raised his voice to a level her father could hear. “I hope ye can come back to visit us some day. The bairns, especially, will miss yer bright smile and yer songs. Mother wanted to be here to see ye off, but one of the lasses became ill. She wished to say the same; ye are welcome whenever ye can visit.”
At his words, her eyes burned, and her tears overflowed in warm tracks down her face.
Her father surprised her by responding for her. “Thank yer lady mother for MacNabb’s care of my wayward daughter. She may no’ come this way again, but I’m sure she’ll remember ye fondly.”
As her father led their group out of the village, Marsali could only stare at his back. Corrie even kept pace with Marsali’s horse, seeming to have given up her search for Gavan. As soon as they stopped to let the horses rest, she nosed into Marsali’s side and licked her hand.
“Our adventure is over,” Marsali told her as she knelt to hug the hound close, seeking the only comfort available to her. “The stones didna do their part. Or my spell didna. I canna say. But he is gone. Or rather, we are gone from him.”
Corrie whimpered as Marsali stroked her rough coat.
“I’ve nay choice but to return home. Father will keep me even more under his thumb, now I’ve rebelled and failed to gain the love and new life I’d hoped for.” She glanced around her at the men her father had brought with him. His best warriors, and not a one inspired the attraction MacNabb’s middle son had.
***
Gavan returned to MacNabb at midday, having pushed his mount as hard and fast as he dared. The whole way, he’d been fueled by fury at the useless errand he’d been sent on. He’d hoped to confound his laird’s command by delivering his message to the neighbor and returning before the Murray had time to take away Marsali. Gavan could not believe she wanted to go, but he also didn’t believe her father would let her stay.
As he rode through the gates, the long faces greeting him confirmed he had arrived too late.
Despair swamped him, weakening his knees as he slid from the back of his lathered horse. He grabbed a handful of mane to keep himself upright until he regained his equilibrium and his breath. Too late. Marsali was gone. And why? Because he’d been too full of doubt to declare himself and tell her what she’d come to mean to him. To let her know he wanted her. Not Fenella, not any other lass. Marsali. He leaned his forehead on the saddle. He’d hurt her. She’d given up on him and let her da take her away.
He waved off the stable lads and walked the horse to cool it down while he berated himself. He doubted she’d expected her adventure to end so ignominiously. What would her father do once he got her back to Murray? Lock her in the cellar until he married her off? Given the temper he’d displayed on arrival, that was not outside the realm of possibility. Did he know the lass ran the hills at night with her great beast of a hound? She would hate being confined.
She would spend the rest of her life hating him.
Well, she’d be in good company. He hated himself. And his father. And even Keenan, whose relationship with Fenella had confused them all. He tightened his grip on the reins as the horse tossed its head. Nay, this was no time to blame others. He’d only needed to utter three simple words, or even two. I love ye would have done it. Or marry me would have worked just as well. Instead, he’d kept his feelings to himself. Damn him.
“Gavan, ye’re back.” Keenan’s hail came from over the horse’s withers.
He turned to confront his brother. “Nay thanks to ye. The Murrays left while I was gone on Da’s useless errand. Just as the two of ye planned.”
“I’m sorry. I ken ye tried to talk Da out of sending ye. But ye ken how he is. And the lass was bound to obey her father. Ye being here wouldha only made it harder.”
“No’ if I’d stopped her. If I’d said what I shouldha, yesterday. Or the day before that.”
“Do ye mean what I think ye mean?”
Gavan’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
“Why did ye no’?”
“How can ye ask me that? Ye ken how things seemed. If ye hadna gotten involved with Fenella…”
Keenan held up a hand. “Ye are blaming me because ye couldna tell Marsali how ye feel?”
“If I hadna been so hell bent on…God…I dinna have any idea what I meant to do.” He clenched his fists, wanting to hit something, but neither his horse nor his brother deserved a beating. He did. “Damn it.”
“Do ye ken now what ye wish to do?”
Gavan nodded, too furious with himself to speak.
“And ye are certain?”
It came to him then that he’d never pictur
ed Fenella with his future bairns. Marsali’s image had overlaid hers in his mind even when he saw Fenella holding his niece. Any lingering guilt he harbored vanished in that instant. Fenella was his past. Marsali was his future. He desperately wanted that future with Marsali.
“Aye,” Gavan spat. “I was over her before I returned home. Riding through the gates, I was certain. But with Marsali—and ye—complicating things, I kept looking for the life I had before I left, doubting my decision, doubting everyone. That’s done. Marsali is my future—if I haven’t completely ruined her feelings for me.”
“Then quit being a fool. Go after her.”
Guilt of another sort made him hesitate. “Ye need me here. Da…”
“Is that guilt talking over staying away as long as ye did? To hell with me. And most definitely, to hell with Da. Ye dinna owe him yer future.”
Gavan swallowed, painfully aware as the oldest and heir Keenan did just that—owe their father, and their clan, his future. “I’m sorry.”
Keenan ignored him. “Da and the Murray set up this whole thing to make ye declare yerself. She’s got half a day’s head start, ye ass. Forget everything here. Get a fresh mount and get going. If ye mean to claim her, ye’d best find her before her da gets her behind the walls of his keep.”
“I ken it.”
They’d returned to the stables while they argued. Gavan waved over one of the lads. “I need a fresh horse. Now.”
As the lad ran to do his bidding, Keenan clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll get some food for ye from Cook. Go dunk yer head and cool off while the lads ready yer mount.” He started to turn away.
Gavan grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a rough embrace. “Thank ye, brother.”
“Too bad ye havena time for a bath,” Keenan said and laughed as he punched Gavan’s arm. “But ye’ll have to do.” He ducked into the stables for a moment, then headed into the keep.
Gavan stripped off his shirt and washed what he could reach with cold water from the horse trough, then pulled a clean shirt from his pack. Marsali had tolerated him the first night he met her, after he’d ridden hard all day. But her father was not going to be in a mood to forgive him for anything, so Gavan had better make a favorable impression. By the time he finished, the lads were leading out their fastest horse. Gavan mounted up just as Keenan returned with a fragrant bundle.
“This is for later, and this,” he said, proffering an oatcake slathered with sharp cheese, “is to get ye on yer way.”
“Thank ye, Keenan. And for this,” Gavan said, indicating his mount. Keenan’s own. He knew the stable lads would not have given it to him without his brother’s say-so.
“Go on with ye. ’Tis time to go after yer own happiness.”
Gavan saluted him, grinned, and kicked the horse into motion. His happiness was out there, somewhere between MacNabb and Murray. He would find her. He was sure of it.
Chapter 8
Fast approaching hoofbeats snapped Marsali out of her doze. Her mount had lagged behind her father’s and his men’s, not that they seemed to be in any hurry. She twisted in her saddle, but the trees still hid the rider. Then Corrie ran back the way they’d come, barking her fool head off. Could it be…? Nay, surely not. She looked around and realized they’d reached the standing stones. She was close to being home and locked away forever, either at Murray or at Campbell. Or in a convent. Tears pricked her eyes. Here is where she’d sung her spell and here was where Gavan had first come to her. If only Corrie’s excitement—
Marsali gasped as Gavan appeared on the path behind them, hound racing at his horse’s shoulder. She reined in her mount and slid to the ground, running for the stones before her father’s men could stop her. They were focused on Gavan, anyway, longswords drawn. “Here!” she shouted, once she’d reached the relative sanctuary of the circle. Her heart pounded hard enough to burst through her chest.
Gavan jerked the reins, making his horse dance aside into the circle. He vaulted off its back and dropped to his knees before her. “Marsali!”
His chest heaved as he struggled for air. She bent to pull him to his feet, but his hands caressing her face while his gaze searched hers stopped her.
Marsali wanted to melt into his embrace. She sank to her knees before him. “Ye came for me!”
“I did. I need to tell ye…I shouldha told ye days ago…I’m glad I found ye. Here,” he added, reaching out to touch one of the stones as his breathing steadied. “I canna think of a better place to ask ye.”
Then he took her hands in his, and her heart stilled.
“I love ye. I want to marry ye.”
“Ye do?” Suddenly, her eyes misted over. Did he mean what he said? At last? “Why did ye no’ speak for me when my father came to MacNabb?”
“I thought ye must do as yer father bid ye. I thought ye’d want to leave.”
Marsali clenched her fingers around his and shook her head. “Ye ken me better than that.” How could he have believed she’d want to return home?
“Even if ye had changed yer mind, I should have told ye how I felt, what ye mean to me. I couldna let ye think I wanted anyone else. I wouldha told ye this morning, but Da sent me…”
“Keenan told me. The MacNabb sent ye away.”
“Can ye forgive me for no’ being there when ye left?”
“Aye, of course.” She looked down at their hands, suddenly ashamed to meet his gaze. “Gavan, what I said at the loch…I’m sorry.”
He touched her lips with a gentle finger, silencing her. “I am, as well.”
She wrapped her hand around his big, strong, gentle one, just long enough to press a kiss into his fingertip.
“Then will ye have me? Will ye marry me?”
A rush of elation swept through her, making her heart pound as she spoke her vow. “I will.”
“Ye, there, MacNabb!”
Her father’s angry voice intruded into the bright haze of joy and relief surrounding her, now Gavan had declared his love. She glanced, wide-eyed, at her father’s men, arrayed around the circle, still mounted, swords still in hand, but resting across their thighs. Their amused expressions told her they witnessed the entire exchange.
Gavan squeezed her hand and whispered, “All will be well.” Then he stood, pulled her up with him, and faced her da. “I’m here to marry Marsali.”
“What makes ye think I’d permit that?” Her father dismounted and marched to the outer stones. “Ye’ve caused enough trouble already.”
“Ye heard. I love Marsali. I’m here to marry her.”
Murray glanced aside at his men. Marsali stepped forward, determined to prevent the refusal she saw coming.
“I will marry Gavan MacNabb,” she announced, her voice firm and loud. “He loves me, and I love him.”
“Love?” Her father crossed his arms over his chest. “Ach, lass, that means nothing. A laird’s daughter marries for the good of her clan. And so shall ye.”
“Our marriage will secure an alliance with MacNabb. We’re a good ally to have,” Gavan announced from her side. “Ye say ye want that for yer people. I will give ye what ye wish.”
“And there willna be any rumors, if I’m married, that I’ve returned from MacNabb ruined for any other.” She took a chance, saying that, but she knew her father. Appearances were important. She held her breath for what seemed an eternity.
“Are ye sure, lass?” Her father’s tone had softened, making her realize he did care about her and her wishes.
“I am, Da. I am. Gavan’s a good man from a strong clan. ’Tis what ye always wanted from my marriage.”
“Aye…”
Marsali’s heart soared. That “aye” said everything. Her father never uttered the word unless he meant it. Then he grinned, and she knew. He’d intended for this to happen, all along.
***
The next day, Gavan eyed Marsali’s father over the rim of his cup from the comfort of his hearthside seat. For this discussion, Murray had been generous with the whisky.
But that was all.
“I’ll no’ pay a dowry for a stolen bride,” Murray declared.
Marsali, seated next to him, clearly chafed at being the subject of their conversation.
“Ye havena need to do so,” Gavan replied with a grin. “Since I didna steal her.” He held up a hand. “It doesna matter. I’m wealthy enough from my travels. Marsali is the only prize I need. Or want.”
Gavan took her hand, and Marsali bit her lip as her father harrumphed at that boast.
“Then ye will pay Murray the bride price, for the trouble ye’ve caused.”
Gavan glanced at his prospective bride, giving no indication of his reaction to that demand. Marsali’s eyes widened, but she held her tongue, though he knew it pained her to do so. When her jaw flexed, he took pity on her and agreed quickly.
“I will.” Gavan squeezed her hand. “Use the money to help yer people. I dinna need it. I need Marsali.”
Murray harrumphed again, then nodded. “We’ll have to wait for the priest. He’s due to arrive in a few weeks. Maybe a month.”
Gavan breathed a sigh of relief. This, he could solve. “I’d be pleased to announce the betrothal here, or to handfast, so Marsali can celebrate with her family. We expect a new priest at MacNabb sooner than that. He will be able to do the kirking.”
“Aye, Da. That would please me.”
Murray nodded and Gavan breathed a sigh of relief.
“Then that is what we will do. Run, daughter. Change into yer finery. I’ll make the announcement at the evening meal. In fact, ye can handfast afterward, in front of the entire clan, like Groa and her Lathan. I’ll no have yer reputation sullied any further. Ye willna sneak off with this lad twice.”
Marsali jumped up and left them before Gavan had a chance to say anything to her. The amused expression on her father’s face told him her impetuous nature was well understood here.
