“I’m glad you like Mairead.”
Hamish blinked. He had been so focused on his inner monologue, he had not been listening to what Davros had been saying until the very end. But even without knowing how Davros had led up to such a statement, it was not difficult to discern what he was implying. And two could play that game. “I do in fact like her. Very much. She is fiercely loyal and very protective of those she loves. That is what makes her so willing to confront and challenge anyone she thinks is in the wrong.”
“I think you enjoy the challenge.”
“Why wouldn’t I? I like being around anyone with spunk and find that few women have the gumption to say their thoughts. Most either sit quiet and obedient-like or just glare in silence.”
Davros nodded and glanced back at Hamish. “You find a lot of women with gumption with the McTiernays, I take it.”
Hamish had answered that question earlier, when they were eating. He had met only a few women who had the mettle Mairead possessed, and each time their hearts had all been swept away by a McTiernay. But this time it was not a McTiernay who was preventing him from pursuing Mairead. “We are just friends, Davros,” he finally said.
“Friends,” the falconer repeated as if mulling over the concept. “Hard to be just friends with someone who is your kind of woman. I know. I tried that with Jeán for a while.”
Hamish was well aware of what Davros spoke. Just this past year, one of his closest friends, Craig McTiernay, had fought for months his feelings for the woman who later became his wife. If Craig had never admitted the truth, Hamish had little doubt that he would have sought Meriel to be his own, disregarding Wyenda without a second thought. Meriel had been the one to make him realize that a relationship with a woman could be much more than just physical.
“I’m not sure I have a ‘kind’ of woman. I can find something I like about almost any female, just as I can find things that I don’t like about them. Things that I would not want to be tied to. Unfortunately, they seem to be the very things you don’t discover until after you make a commitment.”
Davros broke out into laughter. “You have no idea how right you are. The stuff that I learned about Jeán our first year of marriage . . .” Davros stopped mid-sentence and got lost in the memory for a minute before facing Hamish and saying, “But it is all worth it if the woman loves you and you love her in return.”
“I have no doubt that what you say is true, but right now, Mairead’s interest in me is limited to what I have planned for Ulrick.”
“She will have to know sometime.”
“But not yet,” Hamish countered.
“I know she has been hounding you and I could only imagine some of the things she has done to trick you into divulging your plans.”
“You know Mairead very well.”
“I do,” Davros agreed. “And a few times I have been tempted to teach her a lesson about being too pushy with her curiosity. Is that the reason you don’t want to tell her about what is going on?”
“Not in the least. I would tell her if I could, for I suspect she has insights that would prove very helpful. But Mairead and Selah are close. They may disagree with each other on many things, but the risk of her confiding in her sister is too high.”
“It’s possible but unlikely. Still, Jeán and I will keep your secret.”
“Thank you. I just wish you could help me with understanding why Mairead is so insistent on knowing my plans.”
“Mairead has always been inquisitive, which is why I know how annoying it can be at times. Selah might be the lady of Foinaven, but it is Mairead who shoulders much responsibility. She is used to being the decision maker and knowing all that goes on.”
Hamish did not disagree, but he did not believe that was the reason behind Mairead’s persistence. It went beyond wanting the comfort of knowledge to something more akin to fear. But what about? She had believed him when he promised that Ulrick would not succeed in taking Foinaven away from Selah and Robert. “Whatever it is, I think it is linked to her desire to find a husband.”
“That’s a complicated leap.”
Hamish agreed, but his gut still told him it was an accurate one.
Davros pointed to the cottage and signaled to Jeán that he saw her wave. “I wonder why men who are so capable of preparing for battle, examining all aspects from the improbable to the likely, do not do so when it comes to personal matters. They leap to assumptions and dismiss options, believing that certain impediments exist which prevent them from pursuing happiness, instead of just seeking the truth.”
Davros waited until he caught Hamish’s eye. “I do not know for sure how Mairead feels about you and I wonder if you even know how you feel about her. But I do know that Mairead is smart, steadfast, and generous as well as uncommonly beautiful, though she doesn’t really know it. And if the right man wins her heart, she’ll aggravate and delight him for years. But if she surrenders to the pressure of marrying someone who will not appreciate her bold ways and fondness for creating challenges, she will be miserable. Much more so than if she had just accepted the few things that made it seem impossible for her to be with the right man.” Davros turned and walked back to the cabin.
Hamish stood unmoving and watched the falconer be welcomed by his wife at the door with a kiss. The man had seen much in his years and held a lot of wisdom. But he was wrong about Mairead not being afraid. And he was wrong about Mairead’s interest in him.
Mairead might be searching for a husband, and while part of Hamish wished it were otherwise—she did not want it to be him. Oh, Mairead might have been interested if he were not leaving Foinaven, but her sights were on the next commander—a man who would have power and influence. And yet, if that were it alone, she would have already enticed someone to ask for her hand. No, there was something more and if Hamish were to guess, Mairead did not want to marry at all and was hoping to find a way to keep that from happening.
That was why she wanted to know about his plan; however, that was not enough to get him to confide in her. Too much was at risk.
But that was enough to make him decide it was time to do some probing of his own.
* * *
They had not traveled far from Davros’s home when Mairead came to a stop at a fork in the route back to Foinaven. Hamish slowed his mount to a stop next to Mairead’s. Once again they were faced with a choice of paths. To the right was the road they used to get to the cottage. Hamish suspected Davros only used it when he went to the river or on market days when he needed a cart. The path to the left was narrow in places in that it went through some woods, but when it emerged on the other side of the trees, it sank into a fairly steep valley. From there it was about an hour to Foinaven, a trek with which Hamish was intimately familiar.
Mairead turned her head and looked at him with an indiscernible expression. They both had said very little since they left the cottage. If her and Jeán’s discussion was anything like the one he had with Davros, she was thinking of all that had been said—or not said, in his case.
Mairead pointed toward the wooded path. “I want to go this way and we both know it is not because it is the shorter route back. But I also know that you are not ready for me to see what is there.” And without another word of explanation or argument, she pulled her reins to the right and aimed her horse toward the river.
Hamish sat stunned. His heart momentarily swelled with an indescribable emotion. A couple seconds later it vanished, replaced with wariness and suspicion. Mairead was way too stubborn to not at least ask to go the way she wanted. For her to immediately resign to his wishes she had something else in mind and he needed to be ready.
He urged his horse to catch up to Mairead’s and then matched the unhurried speed she had set. “What are you planning?” He decided to take a direct approach. He doubted it would work, but if it did, it would save him a lot of time and energy. “You are far too stubborn to simply concede after you have made up your mind. And I don’t believe that talking with Jeán
for an hour changed that about you.” At least I hope not, he added to himself.
“I’m stubborn?” Mairead half asked, half repeated with a snort. “That’s amusing coming from you. Every person in northern Scotland has been told stories of how obstinate the McTiernays can be. And living with them for so long, trust me, you have become exactly like them.”
Mairead gave him a sideways glance. The look in her big honey-and-green-colored eyes practically dared him to deny that he was any different. And for a second Hamish was once again transfixed. He finally broke free from her gaze. Then he began to chuckle. Soon he was full-out laughing for he finally understood just what Conor, Cole, Craig, and the rest of the McTiernay brothers had been up against for so long. “The McTiernays may have a reputation for being stubborn—and they would probably pummel me for saying this, but every one of them—well, the married ones at least—yield all the damned time.”
Mairead shifted her jaw. “I’m assuming you mean to their wives.”
Hamish nodded and quickly got his laughter under control for Mairead’s expression did not hold nearly the amusement his did. If anything, it was rather chilly. He sucked in a short breath hoping that he had not accidentally plundered into unfamiliar and potentially volatile territory.
“Perhaps the McTiernay men are not yielding to their wives, Hamish. Perhaps, they are merely realizing that the women they cherish—and I suspect heavily rely on for support and advice—were right.”
Hamish shifted in his saddle, suddenly somewhat uncomfortable. Mairead was miffed. But she was also wrong. Too many times he had inadvertently heard Laurel’s “winning” justification during one of her and Conor’s arguments. Hamish would never say her point of view was ludicrous—Laurel was a very smart woman and could outsmart most men if they were not careful—but there was only one reason Conor had “yielded” to some of her more absurd positions. He had simply been disinclined to argue.
Hamish just now realized that assumption had only been partially correct. Aye, Conor had been disinclined to argue, but not for the reason Hamish had always assumed.
Hamish took another sneak peek at Mairead. The woman was breathtaking when she was riled. The rigidity of her back accentuated her figure. The color of her skin glowed and her eyes blazed. But right now, Hamish did want to bask in the beauty of her anger. More than anything he longed to see her smile and know that he was the cause. Conor always used four choice words to create that very effect. “Perhaps you are right.”
Immediately Mairead visibly relaxed and her soft mouth curved into a sensuous, mysterious half smile he could not quite figure out. But he liked it.
Mairead shifted the reins from her right hand to her left and after a long minute, she said softly, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
Hamish watched as she contemplated her answer and her teeth began to play with her bottom lip. “I know you still think I am completely wrong about why men yield, but I really appreciate you for saying otherwise.”
“And you wonder why men are confused by you creatures,” Hamish mumbled under his breath.
Mairead crinkled her brow. “We are not that difficult to understand. Despite what you think, women rarely seek to win a verbal battle. What we want is not to be found right or wrong but to be heard. No one likes their opinions to be dismissed, and especially not without consideration.”
Hamish tugged the reins to avoid a muddy hole. Women absolutely wanted to win arguments. Mairead may think otherwise, but it was only when she was victorious did she believe she had been heard. And it was not just women who were like that, men felt the same way. “I hear you, Mairead.”
“Do you? Because I don’t believe you have yet to really listen to me when it comes to your plans with Ulrick.”
Immediately tension ran through Hamish and he instinctively raised his defenses to do battle. “I’m listening now,” he said honestly. And he was. He always had . . . hadn’t he?
Mairead’s furrowed brow eased a bit. “You think my need to know your plans has to do with curiosity, a need for control, or a lack of trust in you, but it is none of those things. Out of the two of us, it is you who is lacking trust. There is obviously something in that valley you do not want me to see. For if I do, you believe I will be compelled to tell Selah and Robert. I don’t believe I would and it hurts that you think I would, but not having any idea of what it could be, I guess I must allow that you may be right. Only something immoral would compel me to inform my sister and Robert as they are responsible for this clan. However, I trust you and know that you would never cross that line.”
Hamish listened to all she had to say and this time he heard something he had not before. You think my need to know your plans has to do with curiosity. Hamish’s tongue slid along the inside of his cheek. Need to know, Mairead had said. Not want. Once again, he had the feeling that this tied back to Mairead’s reluctance to marry despite what she had done or said. “And I also trust you,” he replied. “You now know where to go to learn about my plans and I am trusting you to wait until I am ready to show you. And I never believed your reasons for learning them were so shallow as mere curiosity or a simple need for control. I’ve always known they went far deeper. I wish you would tell me the truth. I might be able to help.”
Mairead swallowed. Her reasons needed to remain her own. She was not sure what Hamish would do if he knew the nature of all Ulrick’s threats, but she had no doubt that he would do something. And every scenario she came up with involved her relinquishing what little say she had over her future. All except one. Hamish killed Ulrick. If that happened it did not matter if Hamish knew in advance. But if Ulrick lived—which was the more probable outcome based on Robert’s request for no bloodshed— then Hamish would undoubtedly decide that he was honor bound to protect her. The only way to ensure that would be via marriage—either to some McTiernay he hand-picked or worse—Hamish would feel pressured to wed her himself.
Those options were not acceptable, they would not work, for leaving Foinaven was not an option. The only way Hamish might stay was if he loved her, and even then, she could not imagine it being enough to withstand working with Robert.
Mairead nudged her horse to turn toward the river. Once at the bank, she slid off its back and let it drink. She looked into the distance. The land grew flat so the sea was visible—though just barely. But she could feel it.
She waited until Hamish dismounted and stood beside her. She took a deep breath and held it for a second. Then let it go as she spoke. “You are right. There is much more to why I want to understand how you intend to deal with Ulrick. A lot has happened while you were away. Much of it has been good, but unsurprisingly, there have been some difficulties. I am hoping your plan might rectify a few of them.” Mairead then looked him in the eye. “You will learn nothing more from me. Like you, I have a right to my secrets.”
Hamish studied her for nearly a half a minute. Mairead’s gaze never flinched and he knew she meant every word spoken. “Keep your secrets, Mairead. I will not pressure you into telling me, but if you ever do want me to listen, know that I will.”
Mairead was both relieved and grateful that she would not have to fight him on this. She had seen him debating whether or not he should probe and just how hard. But in the end, he had opted to respect her wishes.
Mairead bent down and picked up a smooth rock and rolled it around in her hand. She eyed him again and then threw it. It skipped once and then sank into the water. “Just what was it that Davros said to you? I am not sure how to react to your being so cooperative.”
“I suspect it was very similar to the conversation you had with Jeán.”
Mairead picked up another rock and then put it down. She did that twice more before finally selecting one that was larger, but also flatter and more evenly balanced. “I doubt it, unless Davros also has a bizarre fixation with your dimples.”
Hamish laughed out loud. “Um, I do not recall that subject coming up. However, I cannot believe m
y features were all you talked about for an hour.”
Mairead shrugged and then reached back, and with a sharp flick of her wrist, let the rock fly. She smiled when it skipped several times before disappearing. “Depends on what you mean. Jeán really does like your dimples.” Mairead paused and Hamish found himself thinking, Do you? But before he could finagle asking the question without being obvious, Mairead flashed him an impish grin. “But we did talk of more than just your smile. However, the topic of our conversation never strayed from you.”
A shot of nervous energy erupted in Hamish and he felt the sudden need to occupy his hands. Following her lead, he bent down and found a rock for skipping. “That is both telling and frustratingly vague.”
He threw the rock. He was a master at skipping stones and was disappointed when a ripple caused by the current prematurely ended what should have been a good throw.
“You are still good,” Mairead said. “Remember when you taught me?”
“Aye, though I wasn’t sure you did.”
“I remember everything you said to me back then,” she whispered, and threw another stone. It too hit the water wrong and immediately sank. Frustrated, she picked up two more rocks and was about to try again when she felt Hamish’s arms slide around her back to guide her movements.
Immediately Mairead’s heart started beating faster. She knew what Jeán would say if she were there. Turn around and kiss him. And while Mairead wanted to do just that, too many women in Hamish’s past had focused on only their needs. And when they decided he was not what they wanted, his heart had become a casualty. She refused to be like them. Aye, she needed to decipher what her true feelings were, but she was not going to play games in order to do so.
“Jeán thinks you are attracted to me.” Mairead paused and glanced over her shoulder at Hamish. “Are you?”
Curled around her, Hamish was so close to her lips that it would have taken no effort to press them against his own. However, not doing so was unbelievably hard. “You already know the answer to that,” he replied huskily.
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