Читать книгу Highlanders Collection - Бренда Джойс, Ann Lethbridge - Страница 44

Tavis did not press Ciara about when they would return to Lairig Dubh. He might have if he’d seen her alone, but he never did. Since the Murrays considered him a servant rather than a guest, he did not have access to the main house without a specific reason. Any information from or about Ciara was passed through Cora and that did not happen often during the next days.

He watched her as she left each morning on a ride with the young Murray. He watched as she and Elizabeth walked through the village. He watched because it was his duty to do so. But Tavis did keep watch carefully so that the Murrays were not insulted by it. That he found it no chore was the part he didn’t like to think about much.

Then one day as he and young Iain fought in the yard behind the manor house, he saw her watching him. She wore a deep wine-coloured gown this morning, with no veil covering her long, blonde braid. Without a piece of tartan over her shoulders, she looked like a lowland lass and very much part of this lowland manor. And he guessed that was exactly her aim—to match and to blend in with this family that would be hers soon.

When she laughed and gifted him with a smile as she used to do, the distraction caused him to trip, which then allowed the younger warrior to win their battle and led to much cheering on his part. Laughing at his error, Tavis climbed to his feet and walked to the fence where she stood. Handing his sword off to young Dougal, he accepted a cup of water from her and greeted her.

‘You look well, Ciara,’ he said, swallowing the water down.

‘I am well, Tavis,’ she said as she took the cup and tossed it into the water bucket. ‘Has there been any news from my father?’

She knew that Duncan would keep in touch with him during this journey without pressuring her. He nodded.

‘And I expect another messenger from him soon. I know that he and Marian arrived home safely.’ They’d not gone too far, travelling out to visit one of Connor’s other holdings and then back to Lairig Dubh. For appearances, it worked. ‘Do you have a letter to send back to him?’

She did not speak at first; instead, she glanced at the manor, then stared off beyond it, as she did when she was calculating the cost of something. Her skills with letters and numbers far surpassed his, but they were helpful to him many times. When she turned back to him, her gaze was filled with that expression of determination he’d seen many times before.

‘Send word that we will depart here in three days.’

She was accepting the Murrays’ offer.

He knew it in his gut, but when she met his eyes and said nothing more, she confirmed it.

‘So, you are accepting this betrothal then?’ Tavis leaned down closer so they could not be overheard, all the while knowing this would seal their separate lives. ‘Have you told him?’

Ciara blinked several times quickly and he thought she fought off tears. Looking away to give her time to control herself, he waited, understanding all of the reasons for this match. All of them. And hating each and every one of them.

‘Aye. I told James this morn and he is telling his parents even as we speak.’

He inhaled a deep breath and released it. Nodding at her, he said the things he knew she needed to hear. ‘His parents approve?’

‘’Twould seem so. They are overlooking their bloodlines back to the rulers of the ancient kingdom of Moray in accepting me, but their suffering purses are helping them to overlook certain shortcomings.’

‘Ciara!’ he said, laughing now. She said the most shocking things in a droll voice and it always made him laugh.

For a moment he could hear Lady Murray’s nasal tones in the words and he imagined she’d said those words, or some of them, to Ciara already. The same lady Murray who came striding towards them from the house. He stepped away from the fence. ‘I will make the arrangements.’

Her hand on his arm stopped him. It felt right and so wrong in the same moment, but he remained within her grasp, giving her a chance to speak.

‘Tell me, Tavis. Tell me if you think this a good match.’

The desperate undertones in both the question and in her quivering voice undid him. He was struck by the need to take her in his arms even as his Highland blood urged him to steal her away into the hills to keep her as his own. Instead, for the first of what he knew would be countless times, he carried out his duties to his laird and clan.

‘It seems a good match for you, Ciara. You seem of a mind and have many common interests.’

‘Horses.’

‘And?’

‘It matters not, Tavis. We both know it, so do not placate me. I need to know if I can do this.’

‘The MacLeries will benefit from the access to this prosperous port and the ability to trade outside of Scotland. The Murrays will get your dowry, which will help them invigorate their farms, villages and lands. James will get a wife who is skilled and educated in all manner of things. And you will get a husband who seems quite pleased to have you as a wife.’

He paused and saw the glimmer of hope in her eyes now. He took the last moment before Lady Murray arrived to finish the hardest task he’d carried out for his clan.

‘You can do this. You should do this.’

‘There you are, Ciara. James has told us the news and we wish to celebrate with a small feast this night,’ Lady Murray gave him a look that spoke of spoiled eels as she glared openly at him. Sliding her arm around Ciara’s, she drew her away from the fence and from him. ‘Come, we will speak of the meal and of arrangements to accompany you both to your home at Larg … Larg … your home.’

‘Lairig Dubh, Lady Murray.’ Tavis turned and smiled, for even at her worst moment, Ciara managed somehow to apply humour. ‘If you curl your tongue just a bit at the beginning, it is easy enough to pronounce.’ She’d begun walking back with her soon-to-be mother-by-marriage, but stopped and glanced back at him.

‘My thanks for your wise counsel, Tavis.’

He accepted her thanks with a simple tilt of his head and then watched as the two women made their way back to the manor house to prepare for this celebration.

As the importance of their words sunk in, frustrated rage began to surge in his blood. He sought out several of the Murray warriors who had been watching him and threw down a challenge to them. Several punishing hours later, when a number of opponents had been laid out in the mud of the yard, he finally gave in to the exhaustion of his body. By then, the celebration in the manor house had begun.

Fortunately for everyone, he had not been invited.

The celebration was not the joyous, large feast she might have expected and, in a way, it fit her mood. Ciara sat at the high table between James and his parents. Cups were raised with cheers for their future happiness. Cups were raised with calls for a fruitful marriage. Cups were raised, but she heard little of the words spoken. The only words that she could think about were those Tavis had spoken to convince her of her path.

Words that said the correct thing, but lacked the sentiment that would have made them the things she needed to hear in that moment. But the same words proved he would carry out his duties and whatever they might wish to be between them was not as important as the greater good. She’d walked back inside to be greeted by a priest and Lord Murray, who’d just signed the betrothal documents from Duncan.

Once it was all done and the betrothal official, she’d begun imbibing. Now, seated next to the man who would claim her as wife in a few short weeks, Ciara emptied the last of the sweet wine in her goblet into her mouth and held it out to a passing servant for more.

‘Have a care,’ James whispered. ‘That wine is more potent than the ale you were drinking.’

Ciara smiled at him and took two mouthfuls in a row, leaving only a sip or two behind. It was, she suspected, the only way to get through this evening. ‘My thanks for your concern, James.’ She put the cup down and moved it away. ‘I am finished.’

He placed his hand on hers where it rested on the edge of the table and his warmth enveloped hers. James met her gaze and the truth of their life together struck her—it would be comfortable. The intensity she always found in Tavis’s eyes, the thrill whenever he touched her, even by accident or when he helped her to mount, were lacking in this contact with her betrothed. He would show her affection, he would be caring, he would be considerate, but he would not love her.

She would be what she feared the most—a bride accepted for all that she brought and not find a love match as her parents had.

Ciara remembered Duncan MacLerie’s arrival in Dunalastair and how he and her mother met there. She remembered that it was not long before they married and returned to Lairig Dubh and how their love surrounded them always. And, damn her stupid heart, she wanted that for herself. Could she find it with this man?

‘May I escort you to your chamber?’ James asked.

Ciara looked around and realised that both Elizabeth and Cora had asked for leave to retire some time ago and she’d given it. Now that they were formally betrothed, such an act was permitted, so she nodded and stood.

‘I will return,’ James said to his parents as he walked at her side from the great hall, up the stairs to her room. They continued along the hallway in silence and he stopped before her door. Ciara reached out to lift the latch, but James took her hand in his and drew her close to him.

He slid his hand up to capture her face and then touched his lips to hers. More than the fleeting kiss a few days ago, this one seemed to be about staking some kind of claim on her. He tilted his head and pressed his mouth against hers, touching her lips with his tongue until she opened to him.

She closed her eyes then, allowing him to lead in this and awaiting the sense of transcendence other women spoke of when this was discussed. His tongue moved into her mouth, seeking hers and touching and tasting it as she did his. James entwined their other hands together, pulling her closer until their bodies touched. He was taller than she and their bodies fitted together nicely.

When he released her hand and wrapped both arms around her, moulding his body to his, Ciara knew there would be no moment of wonder for her. His kissing was pleasant, but did not make her want more or want … anything. The centre of her body that had exploded in heat while watching Tavis naked remained cool and calm. Now, mayhap the wine had dulled her senses and this was much more exciting than she knew?

James loosened his embrace and lifted his head. Pressing a few quick kisses on her cheeks and forehead, he took in a deep breath and released her. Mayhap he had felt it all during this embrace? Had he felt overwhelming desire and longing for her? His eyes, clear and blue, seemed unaffected. Before moving away, he gathered both of her hands in his and kissed them.

‘Sleep well, Ciara,’ he whispered.

‘And you, James,’ she replied as she lifted the latch and opened the door to her chamber.

Ciara moved quietly so as to not disturb Cora who, by the sound of the snoring emanating from the pallet in the corner, was asleep already. She began to cross the small antechamber when she realised she’d forgotten her shawl at the table. Since it was one given to her by the laird’s wife on the occasion of this journey, she did not want to chance losing it, so crept across the room and quietly made her way out and back along the stairs to the main floor of the house. She reached the great hall and was about to enter when James’s voice stopped her before she left the shadows of the corridor.

‘She certainly doesn’t kiss as I expected the daughter of the Robertson Harlot to kiss.’