James would be the only man in her bed, he knew that, but not in her heart.
He wished it was not true. He wished he did not need to force her into this marriage and take her from the life she so clearly loved here. He wished that the dowry did not matter.
But it did and it mattered so much it pushed those other regrets out of the realm of possibilities.
And what would happen when James found a woman he wanted to love? He glanced over at Elizabeth and met her gaze as she smiled at him. Then all three of them would be trapped in the same hell until one of them died and could claim their real love.
James pulled himself from his melancholy thoughts and asked her, Ciara, to dance. She did not hesitate and he enjoyed touching her and guiding her through the pattern of the dance across the floor. For a moment, the music faded into the background and he stared deeply into her eyes, seeking some indication of her feelings for him.
And, though he saw many things there, he did not find love.
* * *
Ciara accepted his invitation, she accepted his touch and encouraged it even as they swirled around through the other couples. She wanted to enjoy James. She wanted him to enjoy her. But something was missing between them.
They drew to a stop and she introduced him to more of the MacLerie clan who joined in the feast to celebrate their coming wedding. In a week, she would join with him and become his. She would live with him, sleep with him and, if God was willing, make bairns with him. Her life would be his to control, to command and to guide. One day he would lead his clan and she would be at his side, as Jocelyn stood by Connor and even her mother stood by her father in his duties.
And she would try every day with every breath to never let him know that she loved another.
She stumbled then, but he caught her, setting her to rights and keeping his hand on her waist until they walked back to the high table and sat. The night was nearly over when he leaned in close and whispered to her.
‘I would speak to you in private, Ciara.’
She smiled. Was he finally going to kiss her again? She’d nearly given up hope of finding out if his kiss appealed to her before the wedding. ‘Of course, James.’
‘On the morrow?’ he asked.
‘Elizabeth? When did my mother say the dressmaker was coming to fit our dresses?’ she asked. Elizabeth was more organised when it came to things like this.
‘Mid-day. After the noon meal, but before the heat of the day reaches its peak.’
‘Would you like to walk after Mass in the morning? Father Micheil will say it on the morrow and we could walk back together?’
‘I will meet you there, then.’
‘Jamie, he will begin just past first light,’ Elizabeth said.
The familiar form of his name coming from her friend startled her. They looked at each other and then away, so Ciara did not know what to think of it. She’d never called him by anything but his whole name. He stood then, preventing her from asking about it.
‘I will bid you goodnight, Ciara,’ he said, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it gently. ‘Elizabeth,’ he said with a nod to her friend.
Ciara watched him leave and then caught a glimpse of Elizabeth watching him, too. A strange shiver crept down her spine, but it disappeared quickly.
‘Ciara. Elizabeth,’ her father called their names. ‘Are you ready to return home?’ He and her mother stood then and bid goodnight to the laird.
‘Aye,’ she said. She doubted that one night of rest had replenished her and she looked forward to her bed.
She walked over to the laird and lady and thanked them for their hospitality of the evening’s dinner. Since it was their custom to be the last in their hall, she knew it was fine to leave before them. A busy day would find her up and out early on the morrow, now adding a private talk with James into the many tasks she had to complete in preparation for their wedding.
They walked along the path to Elizabeth’s cottage to see her home first, then on to theirs. Since the wee ones would be asleep, they trod quietly through the main room and to their chambers. Soon, the house was as silent as the entire village and Ciara found herself following an endless trail of questions and suspicions about what James wanted to talk about in the morning.
With the arrangements set and the marriage ceremony happening in a few scant days, it was most likely about that and about plans to return to his, their, home in Perthshire. There would be much to see to once her dowry was in his father’s control and much for her father to oversee for the MacLeries until Connor appointed someone to handle the agreements with the Murrays.
Prime came early and Father Micheil would begin promptly, noticing anyone who arrived late. Though he would peer at them with a frown, he would never reprimand. He had performed her parents’ wedding and would say hers now and it made her glad. Realising that she’d not met the Murrays’ priest while there, she would ask James about that in the morning, too.
If morning ever came.
Chapter Sixteen
Marian stood next to Jocelyn during the Mass, watching Ciara and James. He touched her hand several times during prayers and Ciara smiled at him several other times. All seemed as it should between a young man and woman about to marry—respectful, attentive, even affectionate.
And it broke her heart.
Jocelyn noticed her expression and mouthed, Is aught wrong? to her. Marian shook her head and turned her attention back to the altar and Father Micheil’s prayers. James had asked to walk with Ciara, alone, after Mass, so he wanted to speak to her on some private matter. Again, expected between a betrothed couple.
If she could only be a bird in the trees along their path!
* * *
Soon Mass was ended and she waited as Jocelyn spoke to the priest for a few moments. Ciara kissed her and squeezed her hands as she and James left and it brought tears to her eyes. She and Duncan had had misgivings and fears about sharing the complete truth with Ciara, but it was her due. They had no doubt she would hold it all in confidence, but she needed to know.
Marian had watched as Ciara realised she was not her true mother and feared that Ciara would never forgive her for the deception. Instead, after hearing their explanation, she called her Mother and held her as she always had, easing Marian’s heartache. When she called Duncan Father, even after all the disclosures made to her, it made her heart swell with pride and love for the daughter who could not be more her own.
Jocelyn wrapped her arms around hers and they walked from the chapel together. Marian knew her friend’s intent and it came as soon as they were away from anyone who could overhear their conversation.
‘So, you told her?’
‘We did.’
‘She seems more at peace than I expected from such revelations,’ Jocelyn observed.
She’d been the only one to whom she had told some of the truth those long years ago when she’d first arrived in Lairig Dubh with Duncan. Assisting Jocelyn at Sheena’s birth had brought back the memories of that night with Beitris and Marian had suffered from them terribly. Jocelyn’s friendship and her wonderful herbal tea had eased the way through one of her darkest nights.
‘Ciara had heard, or overheard, many of the rumours from James and his father. At least she knows the truth about those now.’
‘How did she react about her mother?’ Marian remembered the desolate expression that Ciara’s eye bore in those moments, but also the love she saw there for her, too.
‘As we expected. It shocked her to her soul,’ Marian admitted. ‘But then she accepted it. She asked about her true father.’
‘Did you tell her?’
‘Aye,’ she replied, keeping some of this particular truth to herself, for no one save Duncan and Iain knew about that situation and Iain’s secret life. Jocelyn believed her brother Ciara’s father and never spoke of it.
They were near the place on the path where it split, part going uphill to the keep, the other going downhill into the village. Their dutie
s called them in different directions for the moment, though Marian would see to James’s parents later. For now, the laird was acting host to his newest ally and discussing all manner and sort of business with him, much to the Murray’s delight when she’d observed some of the exchanges.
She took hold of Jocelyn’s hand before they parted.
‘I have been turning this over and over in my mind and cannot come up with a reason why Tavis would not marry Ciara. The wealth would be one matter, if Tavis cared about such things. Her education might be another, for it intimidates most men when they discover her abilities. But there must be something more personal to keep his heart locked away from her.’
‘Saraid?’ Jocelyn asked.
‘It must be. I did not know her well, Jocelyn. Did you?’
‘Nay.’ Jocelyn shook her head. ‘Her family moved here just before their wedding. Tavis met her while travelling with Connor to the southern holding.’
‘The only person who could answer questions about her is Tavis,’ Marian added. ‘And Ciara, for she worshipped him in those days and she followed them everywhere.’
‘The only two people to whom we cannot speak without raising questions.’ Jocelyn sighed. ‘It seems that Ciara will marry James, then. Which—’ she touched Marian’s arm ‘—does not appear to be a bad match after all.’
Marian crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed them, staring at the path the two had taken for their walk. ‘Nay, it is not a bad match. It will just take her so far from here and to a man who does not love her. But that is not a bad match.’
Jocelyn met her gaze. ‘And how is that different from our marriages? I came here believing that Connor would murder me the way he murdered his first wife. You came here, forced to marry a man who knew you’d deceived him and everyone else.’
Marian laughed. ‘Only Rurik and Margriet’s match must have been less trying.’
‘Do not be so certain of that. Our Rurik with the way he loves women and a woman who grew up in a convent? I am certain there were some rocks on that path.’
It did calm her worries when she thought of it that way. At least James and Ciara liked each other at the beginning of their marriage. Love could grow later.
It could.
* * *
James took her hand as they walked from the church and she decided to focus on all the things she liked about him as they strolled in the privacy of the forest for this ‘talk’.
She liked the way he entwined their fingers as he held her hand. She liked the way he did not seem threatened by her behaviour and encouraged her opinion on matters at hand. She liked the sound of his voice as he spoke.
There. All good things on which to build.
They stopped and he pulled her into his arms, tilted down and kissed her without any warning. He glided his lips over hers, pressing until she opened—as Tavis had—and then moved his tongue into her mouth. Trying to participate more, remembering his comment about her previous one, she slid her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his, the way it had done on its own during the kisses with Tavis.
James seemed to like it, wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her close. But his mouth just remained there, not doing anything that engendered those hot passions to run in her blood.
Just when she thought he would bring it to an end, he slid his other hand up and skimmed over her breast. Once he found it, he cupped her, rubbing there several times. He lifted his head then and whispered to her, ‘You are an innocent.’
Ciara knew the touch was scandalous, one that should not be permitted before their marriage bed, but it did not feel scandalous to her. It did not urge her to want more. It did not heat her blood as a simple kiss from Tavis did.
‘Is that a bad thing, then?’ she asked.
‘Nay! A man likes to know he will be the first with his wife,’ James explained. He stepped back and stared at her. ‘If I might use some of that candour of yours?’ She nodded. ‘From what I’d been told, about those rumours...’ he hesitated for a moment before pushing on ‘...I did not expect a virgin bride and had accommodated myself to that notion.’
Ciara blinked at him several times as she listened. ‘And you were willing to accept that?’
‘Aye, for the many reasons that we both know about, I would have.’ James looked at her. ‘There was one that gave me some hope. All the stories spoke of your mother’s past; none of that behaviour ever was rumoured after she married Duncan. So, if your mother could be faithful, I expect that you can, too.’
Stunned by these revelations, she just shook her head and laughed, now knowing the truth of her mother’s ‘past’. He’d considered her less than virtuous and was willing to accept her.
That damned dowry! Founded on nothing less than blood money and determined to shape her life and marriage.
‘Did you like that?’ he asked, glancing at her breast.
‘Aye, it was nice,’ she answered. It did not stir her to excess or make her want to lie down with him, but mayhap it would if there was more? ‘Would you...?’ She glanced down and then met his gaze.
James stepped in close and kissed her mouth again. He held her close and then began kissing a path down her cheek and neck. That felt nice, too. Then he turned her slightly and placed his hand on her again, this time with more pressure and rubbing his thumb over its tip. Nice.
He was just about to kiss her mouth again when some branches and leaves crackled, alerting them that they were not alone. They lifted their heads and found Elizabeth there. Jumping back and pushing her hair away from her face, she smiled at her friend. A bit embarrassed by being discovered during such a personal moment, she was surprised by Elizabeth’s glare.
‘My pardon, Ciara and James,’ she said, not even looking at him. ‘The dressmaker is coming before this morn, so I thought I would let you know.’
‘I will be right along, Elizabeth,’ she said, smiling back.
Elizabeth seemed to want to say something else, but did not. With only a nod, she turned and left. James watched her go and then turned back to Ciara.
‘I suppose it was better that she found us than your parents.’
Ciara shook her head. ‘Certain leniencies are permitted between betrothed couples, James. I doubt my parents think that we have not shared some intimacies by now.’
He took her hand and kissed it, beginning to follow the path once more. She guessed that his attempts at intimacies were over.
‘Believe it or not, that was not why I wanted you alone, Ciara.’ He winked at her then. She liked his wink. ‘I wanted to ask you something before we stand before the priest. I do not like surprises.’
‘Oh? What do you wish to know?’ Ciara tried to think about the wedding ceremony, but she had not witnessed one yet. She’d avoided Tavis and Saraid’s those years ago and did not know all the words and prayers that would be said over and for them.
He stopped them once more and turned to face her, his blue eyes growing darker in that moment with an intensity she did not usually see there.
‘Do you have or know of any reasons why we should not marry?’
Of all the things she’d thought he’d ask, that was not one of them. Did loving another man count in his opinion?
‘I do not mean reasons about clans or allies or
treaties, Ciara. I mean from you to me—are you content with this marriage between us?’
‘Content?’ What a strange word to choose. ‘Is that what you seek, then? Contentment?’
He turned from her then and took a breath. Shaking his head, he spoke. ‘Aye. I am not a man ruled by passions and do not seek a marriage caught up in the drama of those emotions. I am not a man of great courage. Our life in Perthshire will be very different from this Highland life you have lived here. I but seek your contentment in being my wife at my side.’ He looked at her then. ‘I have seen marriage ruled by passion—I have seen it before and do not wish it.’
She’d seen those marriages, too. Her parents. The lai
rd and lady. Cousin Rurik and Margriet. All passion-filled marriages that were mostly about love. And she wanted that, too. But, clearly, and to his credit, that would not be theirs. He was not asking for her love, he was asking her to be content without it.
‘So, is there any reason you do not wish to stand before the priest two days hence and pledge our vows?’
A life of contentedness spread out before her. She looked into his eyes and found more emotions there than she’d ever seen in his gaze. And there, deep within, she thought he might be asking her for a way out of this, knowing she’d backed out of other betrothals before his.
Or mayhap he simply did not want to be humiliated on his wedding day to be at the church with no bride at his side? He said he did not like drama, and that would be the worst kind of it.
Still, she had promised, even knowing that she would leave behind the passion and the love she could have, she knew she could have, with Tavis. He was so scarred by what had happened with Saraid that he could not claim what could be between them.
So.
‘There is no reason, James.’
He let out his breath and looked away and in that moment she did not know if he was relieved or disappointed. Strange.
James nodded and smiled then and took her hand once more.
‘Come then, your mother and Elizabeth and the dressmaker will be waiting for you.’
* * *
Although they spoke on the way back to her home, it was of nothings: the path, the weather, the ceilidh the night before. Nothing that mattered. Ciara knew that this would most likely be the pattern of their life.
They reached her cottage and found her mother and Elizabeth waiting, drinking tea with Dolina, who was making the gown she would wear for the wedding. Ciara noticed that Elizabeth’s gaze went right to James’s.
‘Well, this is a place a man does not need to be,’ James said, smiling. ‘I will leave you all to your task, then.’
He bowed his head to them and took his leave.
Terri Brisbin Highlander Bundle Page 15
