Page 29

M abel nodded, but she was surprised when he pulled her into his chest and pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Me brave wife,” he said, pulling back from her. “Darragh frightens even the bravest of men, but ye held yer own. I am proud of ye.”

She smiled and nodded, even though she still felt guilty that she had not been able to protect Ollie.

“I thank ye,” she answered quietly. “Shall I prepare some snacks?”

“Nay, ye have done enough,” he told her. “I will tell the maids to fetch some.”

She nodded, grateful for the help.

An unpleasant feeling had settled in her stomach since she had overheard his conversation with his grandfather, but seeing him had helped keep it at bay.

She followed him quietly to the library, sensing his concern for her, but she did not want or need him to worry about her. The boys were his priority, as well as hers.

Still, grief couldn’t steal her wonder as she spotted the volumes lining the tall shelves of the castle’s library.

It was the one room she had yet to visit since she had arrived at Muir Castle, and she was instantly reminded of her love for books.

The air smelled of paper and ink, and she instantly felt at ease.

Her mother had warned her against hiding away, only to add that a husband might not be pleased by it, yet she had not cared. The words had eased her worries, and it seemed the husband she had married was much the same.

The Laird set the boys down to search out a volume, and when he had found it, he led them to a long settee. Mabel smiled when she saw the boys rush to sit on either side of him.

He started reading, and she settled into the lone settee opposite them, watching the scene. The boys looked so much like her husband that they could have passed off as his sons. He treated them just as well.

They looked like one happy family, she realized, and she had grown to love the warmth she felt when they were all together.

She eyed her husband, who gave her a wink and continued his reading, and realized her fear had abated since he had walked into the Great Hall and stood between her and his grandfather.

She had been unable to leave him, and even though she had only overheard snippets of their conversation, she had wanted to storm into the room and strangle the man.

An unprecedented protectiveness had surged inside her when she heard Laird McCormick’s hateful words.

She wished she could have lunged at him and slapped the words off his mouth, but the boys needed her, and now they needed the comfort of their uncle.

His strength would chase away their fear just as it had chased away hers.

They were an odd family brought together by grief, but somehow they had grown to care for one another. And Mabel had grown to care for her husband, who only had smiles for her.

She had grown to care for him and love?—

She clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing that she had fallen in love with her husband.

The realization filled her with trepidation as she watched him read to the boys, who asked questions now and then. He answered without breaking stride, laughing when they asked particularly funny questions, and she laughed to herself, knowing he had no such inclination towards her.

He had been kind and thoughtful, but he did not love her.

She shook the disappointment off her and watched him read, noting how his smile did not quite reach his eyes.

He had suggested the activity to quell the boys’ fear, but he no doubt was still swarmed by the dark cloud his grandfather had brought with him.

“It seems the boys are verra exhausted,” he noted, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Same as ye.”

Mabel lifted her eyes to see that the boys had indeed fallen asleep. Her husband watched her with a small smile.

She had been lost in thought and drifting off, lulled by his voice, so she hadn’t even realized when he had stopped reading.

She rose, shaking her head and moving to his side.

The boys were sound asleep against him, his arms hanging awkwardly like pillows.

“I am awake,” she murmured. “Just lost in thought.”

“Will ye share them with me?” he asked, and she nodded.

“We should take the boys to their chambers first,” she suggested, moving to pick up one of the boys. “I dinnae think either of ye are comfortable.”

He nodded his gratitude, and they walked side by side to the boys’ chambers. The silence between them was pregnant with many things yet to be said, but neither moved to speak first.

The Laird laid Connor on the bed first and made room before taking Ollie from her arms and tucking him in beside his brother. The red mark had yet to fade from the boy’s cheeks.

Mabel would always hate how she had failed to protect him.

The Laird had praised her for her efforts, but it had not been enough to keep them from harm.

She saw his hands curl into fists at his sides as he looked down at the sleeping boy and knew he was feeling the same. The rage he had been hiding was bubbling to the surface, but she did not want him to wake up the boys.

She moved to his side, taking his hand to draw his eyes to her, and nodded her understanding. She led him to her chamber, and once they were alone, she turned to him with a ready apology.

“I am sorry I failed to stop him from hurting Ollie,” she said quickly. “I should have kept them away from him, but…”

Her words faded when he pulled her into his arms and dipped his head to rest his chin on her head.

The action had her stiffening in surprise and then sighing into him as tears pooled in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest, letting his steady heartbeat soothe her.

Soon, she was sobbing, and he rubbed soothing strokes on her back that made her sob even harder.

“I dinnae blame ye, wife,” he whispered into her hair. “I ken ye were frightened, but ye protected them as best as ye could. I am nae upset with ye. I shouldnae have left ye alone, unprotected. If anyone is to blame, ‘tis me.”

“I dinnae blame ye,” she mumbled against his chest. “‘Tis just?—”

“Hush, wife. Ye worry for naught.” He sighed. “The boys are well. ‘Tis all that matters.”

She sobbed until she felt the weight of self-deprecation lift off her chest and wiped her eyes. She looked up at him and noticed the sad look on his face.

“I’m sorry, I?—”

“Ye apologize too much, wife.” He smiled. “Ye should sleep. Ye have had a long day.”

“I willnae be able to,” she answered honestly. “I worry for ye.”

“But I am well,” he reassured her.

“Indeed, but ye are still upset with yer grandfaither,” she persisted. “Ye are angry with him for the way he treated us today, but I feel ye are angry about more than today.”

She noted how he stiffened at her question, but she didn’t want him to hide any longer. He was burdened by the weight of his past, and the only way she could help him was to make him share his burdens with her.

“Why have ye never mentioned him, and why was he nae at the wedding?” she probed. “If he is the only family ye have left, why arenae ye close?”

He looked away from her for a moment and took a step backward.

Had she asked the wrong question?

“Please, dinnae pull away from me,” she begged, reaching for his hand. “I mean ye nay harm. I just… I want to make sense of things. I want to ease yer burdens.”

He turned back to her with a small smile and led her to sit on the edge of the bed. It made her more comfortable, and she was close enough to offer comfort if he needed it.

“‘Tis a dark tale,” he warned.

“I want to hear it,” she insisted. “I just wish to ken how to help ye.”

“Ye have already helped me, wife.” He tried for a smile. “Ye worry for me well-being, and ye kept the clan safe while I was away. ‘Tis more than anything.”

“Yet this dark cloud hangs over yer head,” she said with a pout. “Dinnae think I cannae see how ye suffer. Ye comforted the boys today and comforted me, but who will comfort ye when ye are alone? Share yer burdens with me.”

He studied her hands, rubbing circles on her palms as he considered her words.

She was not unaware that she had done nothing to deserve his trust, yet she felt the need to probe and dig up the past if it would help him heal. He was so focused on making everyone else around him happy, forgetting that he, too, deserved it.

Now that she knew how she felt for him, she would scarcely find sleep if she didn’t at least hear his tale and see some of the shadows leave him.

“I wanted to spare ye the grief of me past, but ye are me wife, and ye should ken about it,” he started. “Darragh is… Ye were right to say that our feud isnae recent. I was eight when I first saw him, and I havenae seen him since.”

“May I ask why?”

“He didnae have any children except me maither, and when she got married and had me and Aidan, he came when Aidan was a mere babe.

Me faither was powerless to stop his manipulation and let him take me maither and Aidan away to raise him as his heir.

His manipulation wrecked me faither and turned him into a shadow of himself.

I was a lad, but I wasnae too young to understand what had been done and who was to blame for the cloud that shrouded me home.

“I swore I would never be as weak as me faither, so I endured his harshness, and when he died, I fought hard to protect the clan from those who thought us weak. Darragh kens now that we’re nay longer the weak clan he thought us to be, which is why he willnae dare to attack.

But this? What he did today? That I cannae forget. ”

He had stiffened with grief, and Mabel did the only thing she could to ease his burden—she nodded and placed a hand on his arm to comfort him.

“Ye will have to because he willnae dare cross into yer territory again,” she urged. “He is in the past, and ye arenae the lad ye once were. He has more to gain from ye holding onto yer anger than ye.”

“He hurt ye. He hurt Ollie,” he argued. “I swore to protect ye and the boys.

I swore to give them everything Aidan never had.

‘Twas me fault he never thought to return home.

If I hadnae been a coward and tried to reach out to him, he could have been here now.

But ‘tis too late. I made a vow, yet I wasnae here to keep it.”

“Ye didnae break yer vow because we’re here unharmed—ye protected us.

” She smiled. “If ye hadnae returned when ye did, I dinnae ken what might have happened. But ye returned, and it is what the boys will remember. They trust ye now, and with time, they will grow to love ye. But ye have earned their trust, and they dinnae blame ye for what happened.”

“Darragh…”

“Is to be blamed for much, but he nay longer has power over ye. Except if ye let him. Ye have been strong and protected yer people, just as ye protected me and the boys today,” she insisted.

“I am sorry ye had to relive yer past today. I ken it wasnae a pleasant experience, but ye have stepped into the future with the bairns. They are yer future, while he has none. Let the fact that his blood will die with him be of comfort to ye. Leave that man where he belongs. He will be a fool to forget yer warning today.”

“Darragh is nay fool. He willnae forget, but he is most definitely planning something,” he said ominously.

But she was undeterred.

“And ye will be ready. Nay matter what he chooses to do. Ye are Laird Muir. Yer clan is the most feared in the Highlands. He wouldnae dare rise against ye.”

He nodded and squeezed her hands.

“I thank ye for understanding me,” he told her. “I havenae shared this with anyone, but I found it easy to tell ye.”

“I am yer wife; I should ease yer burdens.” She cracked a smile. “And ye arenae the only one who has been burdened. I had me secrets as well.”

He nodded, kissing her forehead. “I am indeed most fortunate to have such a wise wife.”

“Aye, ye are.”

He pulled back to study her face. She could still see the hurt in his eyes, and she moved before she could stop herself. She took his lips in a kiss she hoped would comfort him.

She pulled back and looked him in the eye, surprised at herself.

“I…” she started. “I just wanted to comfort ye.”

“I am indeed most fortunate to be married to ye,” he whispered with a smile.

“What…”

The words died in her throat as he pulled her to him and slanted his lips over hers, but she could not complain as she kissed him with as much force as he did her.