The soft timbre of his voice broke through the silence and stabbed at her heart. She had hoped to leave before he woke. Knowing full well ’twould have been a cowardly thing to do, she remained quiet, selfishly wanting to linger for just a few moments more.
“’Twill be a great honor and privilege to wake up to ye like this each morn, Fiona.”
Fiona pulled away from his embrace, sat up and looked into his eyes. He was so handsome, even with that long jagged scar that ran from his forehead to his waist. She had no idea how he’d come by it and regretted the harsh reality of knowing she’d never find out. His brown eyes sparkled with delight for a moment, until he read her face. The smile faded, replaced with confusion.
He loved her, of that there was no doubt. Caelen genuinely meant the words he’d spoken earlier, that he adored her, found her beautiful and irresistible. She would give almost anything in the world to wake up to him each morn. Almost anything.
Words and tears were lodged in her throat as they began a battle to see which would free themselves first. She left the bed and padded across the room to her clothes. Hurriedly, she began to dress before either the tears or words had a chance to escape.
“Fiona?” Caelen said as he left the bed. “What be the matter?”
The matter? Aye, he is as daft as he is handsome and experienced in the ways of lovin’. She couldn’t manage to utter a word, could only shake her head as she pushed her arms into her under shirt.
He was beside her then with a comforting hand resting on her arm. She couldn’t bear to look at him. Quickly, she pulled the tunic on then grabbed her trews.
“Fiona?” His voice remained calm, soft and low, but she found no comfort in it. “Please, lass, tell me why ye look so sad?”
The tears she had tried so valiantly to hold at bay came rushing out along with her voice. “Caelen, I canna marry ye.”
He took a step back and cocked his head. “Why no’? Do ye no’ love me?”
Love him? With every fiber of her being she loved him, but knew nothing could come of it. “It matters no’ how I feel, Caelen. I canna marry ye,” she told him as she thrust one leg into her trews, then the other. The room seemed to grow smaller with each moment that passed whilst the ache in her heart intensified.
“Do ye love me or no’?” he asked, his voice calmly demanding an honest answer.
Fiona choked back a sob and nodded her head in affirmation. “Aye, I do, Caelen, but that changes nothin’. I canna marry ye.” Needing out of the room, she jumped to her feet and searched for her belt and sword, looking at everything but him. He was naked and she knew that a naked Caelen was far more dangerous than a fully-clothed and armed Caelen.
She located her belt on the floor next to the hearth, grabbed it and wrapped it around her waist. “I must return home,” she told him, unable to concentrate on anything more than the ache in her heart.
Daggers. She needed her daggers. Finding them on the mantel she began tucking those into her boots and belt.
“Why can ye no’ marry me?”
Without thinking, she answered him harshly. “I canna and will no’ sacrifice me clan fer ye, or any other man, Caelen. I’ll no’ do that to them.”
“Why must ye sacrifice yer clan to be with me? To be me wife?”
She took a step forward, rallying the courage to finally look at him. If she kept her eyes on his, she’d be able to make it out of the room with some of her dignity intact. If she lowered them to his broad, hard chest, or parts further south, she would be doomed and damned.
“If I marry ye, my clan will be absorbed into yers. I’ll no’ let that happen.”
From his expression she knew he was silently questioning her sanity. “And what would be wrong with that?”
“I made a vow, Caelen, much like ye did when ye were made chief. I made a vow to protect me clan, me people at all costs. I also made a vow to James and to his father that I would never allow Clan McPherson to fall.”
“And ye think that by joinin’ with Clan McDunnah, it falls?”
“Aye, it means just that.” All at once she felt angry, broken and miserable.
The last thing she had wanted was to leave on bad terms. But his suggestion of marriage and his inability to see how important it was to keep her clan together, irked her. She paused with her hand on the handle to the door. Speaking to him over her shoulder, she said, “Caelen, I need ye to know that today has been both the happiest and saddest day of me life.” She swallowed back the tears and took a deep breath. “I do love ye, Caelen McDunnah. But I canna be with ye as yer wife or mistress, or anythin’ else.”
Without waiting for a response, she pulled the door open and left.
* * *
Caelen had to admire her determination to not break the vow she made to her clan. But that did not mean he would not do everything within his power to make her his wife.
Why couldn’t she see the benefit of her clan joining his? He could protect her, he could protect her people. Why was that so difficult to understand?
She left him standing naked in the middle of the room, dumbfounded with her level of stubbornness. Any other woman would have jumped with unrestrained glee at becoming his wife.
But Fiona McPherson was not like any other woman.
Bloody hell.
“Fiona!” he called out to her as she stepped out into the hallway. “Wait!”
Finding his clothes scattered on the floor where he’d left them hours ago, he pulled on his trews first before heading out to stop her from leaving. His heart pounded, fearful it might lose the one woman he could say without equivocation that he loved.
Unconditionally.
Without regard to anyone or anything else.
He loved her.
Rushing out of the room, he went after the woman who had stolen his heart, and if she left, the very life from his soul.
* * *
Caelen bounded down the hallway calling out Fiona’s name. He rounded the corner and slammed into a confused looking Phillip.
“Out of me way,” Caelen thundered as he tried to push his way around Phillip.
“Nay,” Phillip said as he grabbed Caelen’s shoulders. “Let her go.”
Caelen shoved Phillip aside and ran toward the stairs. Fiona was just reaching the bottom step when he called out for her again. “Fiona! Wait!”
She paused only briefly to glance at him over her shoulder.
He saw it then, the pain in her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks. He could also see her profound determination.
Her mind was made up.
His wasn’t.
Caelen started toward her until she crossed her palms over her heart and mouthed the words I love ye. A heartbeat later, she turned and fled.
He would not, could not accept her belief that there was no way for them to be together. Certainly they could work together to find a way. As he took another step toward the stairs, a strong hand reached out and grabbed his arm to pull him back.
“Caelen, let her go,” Phillip said in a low, calm voice. “If ye love that woman, ye’ll need to let her go.”
“I’ll do no such thing, Phillip,” Caelen ground out. “And if ye value yer life, ye’ll remove yer hand.”
Phillip shook his head. “Ye must let her figure it out, Caelen. If ye force her to make a decision now, ye’ll both regret it all the rest of yer days.”
Caelen pulled his arm from Phillip’s grasp. “What do ye ken of it?” he demanded.
“I ken ye love her, any fool can see it, Caelen. I’ve been speakin’ with Brodie. She’ll no’ give up the helm, she’ll no’ break her word to her people. Fiona loves ye, but she’s fightin’ a battle with her heart now. Do no’ make her choose between ye or her clan, lad, fer yer certain to lose.”
It pained Caelen to no end when he realized Phillip was right. If he tried to force Fiona to make such a decision, he would not end the victor. But what was he to do? She was fleeing his keep as if it were on fire. How could he stop he
r from leaving?
“What do ye suggest I do?” Caelen asked through gritted teeth.
Phillip rested a hand on Caelen’s shoulder. “Let her go. Let her come to the decision on her own.”
Caelen swallowed hard, his heart slowly cracking bit by ugly bit. “And if she does no’ choose me?”
Phillip smiled warmly. “She’ll choose ye, Caelen. She’ll choose ye.”
Two
It had to have been the longest ride of her life. Fiona refused to shed a tear in front of her brother or her men. Instead, she would bottle them up and save them for after they arrived at their keep. For a time when she was alone and could wallow in her pain without an audience.
The closer they drew to her home, the more her heart shattered. She reckoned that by the time they made it home, her heart would be nothing more than tiny, miniscule pieces of dust.
Had she known in advance that it would hurt this much to leave Caelen, she never would have allowed herself to succumb to his touch. Nay, she realized that wasn’t true. It had been the most enjoyable, wondrous, exciting few hours of her life and she’d not give one moment of it back just to ease her aching heart. ’Twas far better to have one moment of something quite special, than to live an entire life of nothing.
“What did Caelen do to ye, Fi?” William asked in a low voice as he rode next to her. When she did not answer, he began a slew of rushed questions. “Did he hurt ye? Did the bastard seduce ye with promises he means no’ to keep? Tell me, Fi.”
“William, he did no’ seduce me,” she told him pointedly, silently wishing he’d simply go away and leave her to her heartache.
William studied her closely, his anger growing quite evident with his set jaw and the thunderous look in his eye. “What happened, Fi? I need to ken so I can avenge yer honor!”
“Me honor does no’ need avenged, William. Truthfully, ’tis none of yer concern what did or did no’ happen between Caelen and me.” She tapped the flanks of her horse, urging it forward in an attempt to be away from her brother’s interrogation.
From the day she was born, William had convinced himself he was her protector and guardian of her heart. Fiona knew he would not give up until he was convinced she was well.
“Fi,” he said as he pulled his horse beside her again. “I do no’ believe fer a moment that ye are well. Now tell me, what happened.”
She released her frustration with a rapid sigh. “Nothin’ happened,” she told him. “I be simply tired, frustrated and hungry. Ye need no’ concern yerself with Caelen, fer he was nothin’ short of a gentleman.” ’Twas a lie but she didn’t care. “’Tis also time fer me courses.” Another lie and again, she did not care.
Her courses had gotten her out of many a difficult or awkward situation over the years, especially when it came to her brothers. All she need do to either garner sympathy or get herself out of trouble was to tell them ’twas that time of the month. Instantly, any anger they held toward her fell away, for those monthly problems were a mysterious thing. Her brothers neither understood nor possessed a desire to. Some things they reckoned, were best left alone.
William’s cheeks burned red as he stammered for an appropriate response. “Oh,” he said quietly. “I’ll leave ye be then.”
* * *
From a room in the tower, Caelen watched Fiona leave with her brother William and the rest of her men. He remained there until long after she faded from sight. She had taken his heart with her, leaving him as bereft and as alone as a piece of driftwood floating through the wide ocean.
The cloak of night draped itself across the land. The evening meal came and went and the keep had settled into the quiet and still hours of night, and yet he remained looking out at the horizon.
A cool damp breeze flittered in through the tall, narrow window where he’d been acting as sentry. Stirring up tiny whirlwinds of dust at his feet, the air caressed his skin. His skin turned to gooseflesh, for the air was as soft and gentle as Fiona’s whispers against his skin. Whispers of fate he might not ever get to experience again if he allowed his breaking heart to guide him now.
There simply had to be a way for them to be together, as husband and wife.
After hours of searching for a solution he made several decisions. First and most importantly, he would not take no for an answer. It had taken him sixteen years to get over the loss of his first wife and their son. He refused to spend the rest of his life mourning the loss of another woman, a woman he loved more than he could ever have thought possible.
Fiona had done something to his long-sheltered heart. With no effort on her part, she had somehow managed to get the bloody thing beating again. And he’d be damned if he’d allow circumstance or stubbornness to shatter it again.
He’d either find a way or he’d make a way to have Fiona McPherson as his wife.
* * *
Night had fallen across the land by the time Fiona, William and the others returned to their keep. While she would have preferred to crawl into bed and spend the next fortnight crying her eyes out, Fiona knew she couldn’t. If she was giving up the chance at a life with Caelen because she was chief then she needed to behave as one. She would deal with her emotions later.
Pushing aside the ache in her heart, she and William met with Collin and her advisors in her private study. Collin and the others let out a collective sigh of relief at learning she hadn’t done anything foolish — such as cutting Caelen’s throat.
Collin and William sat on either side of her at the long table, while Andrew, Seamus, and Richard took up seats opposite them. With a calmness that belied her crushed heart, Fiona explained what they had learned from Brodie.
“So ye no longer believe the McDunnahs be responsible fer the attacks?” Richard asked quite pointedly.
“Aye,” Fiona answered. “I believe there be someone who wants to make it appear as though the McDunnahs are to blame. Though why, I canna say at the moment. There has to be more to it than someone wantin’ magical water.”
“Who kens what makes any man do anythin’?” Andrew asked rhetorically. “It verra well could be somethin’ as simple as that.”
All eyes then focused on Andrew. “We’ve been somewhat isolated here all these many years,” he began, “but we all ken that evil exists. If a man were to believe that McPherson water holds magical powers, he might verra well be moved to do whatever he must to have it. He needs no other reason than his belief that he can somehow benefit from it. Whether it be a financial benefit or somethin’ else.”
While Fiona found it difficult to believe anyone could be moved to murder over supposed magical water, she knew Andrew was right. Some men could be motivated by nearly anything. Still, doubts lingered. “Ye may verra well be right, Andrew. Still, me instinct tells me there be far more to it than that.”
“Be that as it may,” Richard chimed in. “What do we do now? Ye’ve got four clan chiefs due here on the morrow. What do ye plan to tell them?”
Fiona had forgotten about the summit she had called for after Bridgett’s death. “We meet with them,” she answered. “Mayhap we’ll be able to learn who is truly behind this.”
“So it be no longer a war summit?” Richard asked, as he tried to hide his disappointment. Of all the people in the room, Richard was perhaps the only one who actually looked forward to the prospect of war. Ornery and at times short tempered, Richard was never one to back down from anything. Inwardly, Fiona chuckled. And they worry over me startin’ a war?
“Nay,” Fiona told him. “No longer a war summit. ’Twill be more a mission to learn the truth, or at least part of it.”
“I pray yer right,” Andrew said. “At this point, I’m less concerned over the why of it than the who.”
Richard smiled at Andrew. “I agree, Andrew. And if it be all right with the rest of ye, I’d like to be the one who guts the bloody bastard responsible fer takin’ our Bridgett.”
Fiona could not argue with Richard’s desire for retribution. “I imagine, Richard, tha
t we will all be wantin’ a piece of him.”
Richard laughed loudly. “Aye, by the time we’re all done with him, I doubt there’ll be much left fer even the bugs to feast upon.”
Three
Answers could not be found amongst the men who had proposed to Fiona. Usually rumors flew across the Highlands as fast as a rabbit could run. But this time? People simply weren’t talking.
Mayhap the troubles were not coming from the chiefs who had proposed, but from someone else. Caelen did not believe in coincidences. However, at this point he did not have the luxury of ruling out the possibility that the proposals and raids were not linked.
If he could not find the answers here, then he would have to expand his search.
He would begin by enlisting the help of Angus McKenna, chief of the Clan MacDougall.
* * *
There was little time to spare. Caelen sent a messenger to Angus McKenna to give advance warning of his arrival. He didn’t bother seeking permission to visit MacDougall lands, for it was neither in his nature to ask nor was it necessary. Caelen also sent a message to his oldest and closest friend, Nial McKee.
Though Angus was only twelve years his senior, Caelen still thought of him as the father he’d never had. Aye, Caelen may have sprung from Nerbert McDunnah’s loins, but that was as far as the connection to the man went.
The MacDougalls and McDunnahs had been allies for many years, but their relationship went beyond more than just a political alignment. Not only were the chiefs of each clan good friends, many friendships and even a few marriages, had been forged between the clanspeople.
In addition to those friendships, the MacDougalls and McDunnahs were the leading parties in a hopefully irrevocable agreement referred to as The Bond of The Seven. The bond was forged years ago between their two clans and the Grahams, McKees, Carruthers, Lindsays and Randolphs. If ever any of them were in dire need of assistance, all they need do is send out the call.
Caelen's Wife, Book Two Page 2
