Page 18 of Bound to a Highland Beast (Tales of Love and Lust in the Murray Castle #8)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
W aking up next to Isabeau was nothing new for Tiernan by then, but having her in his arms like this, cradled against his chest and warm under the covers? That was as new as it was exhilarating, his heartbeat kicking up a notch. The night they had shared replayed itself endlessly in his mind, each detail etched deeply into his brain, and he knew he would never forget it.
It was a blessing as much as it was a curse. He didn’t know how many more such nights he had left with Isabeau. Soon, he would either be dead or he would be returning her to her home, and regardless of the outcome, they would never be together again. He had already caused enough damage sleeping with her. Now, whenever she found a husband, she would have to go to great lengths to conceal that fact on their wedding night, and if she was unsuccessful, her entire future would be destroyed.
I should have kent better than tae touch her. I should have never been so selfish.
Now, however, he couldn’t do anything to change things. All he could do was push forward and hope that everything would work out in the end.
With a sigh, he pulled himself away from Isabeau as gently as he could so as to not disturb her sleep. She seemed so peaceful in that moment, her eyes gently shut, her plump, rosy lips parted just slightly as she breathed softly, her fingers curling gently around the edge of the covers, that Tiernan didn’t want to wake her just yet.
It was still early, after all. The room was dark, illuminated only by the coals that still burned dimly in the fireplace, the sun just breaking through the horizon, and though they had to start the day soon, he could give her a few more moments of dreams before she would have to wake up to the nightmare that was their reality.
With quiet footsteps, Tiernan padded over to the rickety chair in the corner of the room to dress, but just as he reached it, something strange caught his eye.
There was a piece of parchment just by the door, as though someone had slid it under the gap. Glancing over his shoulder at Isabeau, who was still sleeping, he walked over to the door and picked it up, squinting as he tried to read the words in the darkness of the room.
It was a short message, and yet still clear as day. There was no signature, but Tiernan didn’t have to wonder who had sent it.
Kill him soon or she dies.
Tiernan cursed under his breath, staring unseeing at the words, the threat sitting like a rock in his stomach. The more he stared at the note, the more his anger threatened to bubble over, coursing through his body like fire as he crumpled the paper in his hand. Every peak, every sharp edge felt like a knife point digging into his flesh. Once again, he glanced at Isabeau, his breath catching in his throat. Then, he dragged his gaze to the flaming coals and decided to toss the note in the scant flames. He watched as it slowly caught at the edges, the heat spreading until it was nothing but ashes.
He wished that was enough to eliminate the threat. He wished that was all it would take; nothing more than burning the paper out of existence, until it was nothing but flames and dust. But life wasn’t that simple and the longer he hesitated, the longer he dragged this out, the more dangerous it would be for Isabeau.
This is it. It’s all over now.
He couldn’t pretend any longer. He couldn’t keep thinking that it would all somehow magically work itself out. It was time for him to face some painful truths—one, it was time for him to act and kill Constantine, and two, no matter how much he wished for it, he could never be with Isabeau, and the more he tried, the worse it would be for them both.
“Tiernan?”
Isabeau’s soft voice broke the silence, startling him. How long had she been awake, he wondered? Not long enough to see him burn the note, he hoped. He didn’t want to worry her any further.
Now that she was awake, though, he didn’t know what to tell her. How could he explain all this to her? Isabeau was pure to the point of naivety, always thinking that everything would be resolved in some way and that no matter what the danger was, she could face it. So far, she had been proven right, but Tiernan was unwilling to test their luck anymore.
“What’s the matter?” Isabeau asked when he didn’t respond to her or even turned to face her. “Did somethin’ happen?”
Tiernan drew in a deep breath, shaking his head. “It’s naethin’,” he said, as he walked back to the chair and continued dressing, busying himself with the fastenings of his tunic. “I must go. It’s better if ye stay here today.”
“Stay here?” Isabeau scoffed and though Tiernan couldn’t see her, he could imagine the eye roll she was giving him. “I told ye that I’ll come with ye, nae matter where ye go. I’m nae stayin’ here.”
“It’s fer yer own good,” Tiernan insisted. “I willnae hear it, nae today. Ye’ll stay here.”
There was a pause and Tiernan had to fight the urge to look at Isabeau and try to figure out what she was thinking. For a few moments, nothing was heard other than the soft patter of her feet on the floor as she approached him, but even so, he didn’t turn around to face her.
“Where will ye go?” she asked, her tone simultaneously casual and a little dour.
“Tae kill Constantine,” he said flatly.
“What dae ye mean?” Isabeau asked. “I thought ye said ye had a plan.”
“Plans change.”
Another silence stretched between them. Tiernan wished he had stepped out of the room before Isabeau had woken, so he could have avoided all this. Still, he had no idea how he would kill Constantine when he was surrounded by so many of his men. He had to lure him away from them somehow, to get him all alone, but Constantine wouldn’t trust him enough to follow him anywhere.
Unless he believes I pose nay threat tae him.
Would Constantine consider him a threat or would he think he could easily defeat Tiernan, regardless of circumstances? Tiernan couldn’t tell. Constantine was no fool, but he was also a notorious killer. Perhaps he thought he was too strong for Tiernan to kill him in one-on-one combat.
“Tiernan,” Isabeau said again, but this time she stepped around him and came to stand right before him, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her when he tried to look away. He breathed once, twice, their gazes locked with each other, and when he tried to get away from Isabeau, she only tightened her grip on his jaw. “I dinnae ken what happened tae make ye act like this, but whatever it is, I dinnae appreciate it. Ye cannae act like a bairn an’ treat me like one. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Ye cannae treat me like a bairn an’ act like one.
Those words echoed in Tiernan’s mind again and again. He had never considered that this was what he was doing, but now that Isabeau had put it so plainly and succinctly, without sugarcoating it, he had no choice but to admit she was right. Yes, perhaps she often veered towards naivety and she was too optimistic for her own good, but she was also a grown woman who could make her own choices. Not only that, but out of the two of them, she was the one who had forced him to talk, while he had tried to avoid the subject altogether.
With a sigh, Tiernan took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m concerned,” he admitted. “I keep worryin’ about ye, Isabeau. If anythin’ happens tae ye…”
He couldn’t even bring himself to continue that thought. He didn’t want to bring such scenarios to mind, fearful that the moment his mind conjured them, they would happen.
“I understand,” she said, her free hand coming up to cradle his cheek, her thumb brushing small circles over the swell of it. “But turnin’ away from me like this an’ tryin’ tae hide things from me because ye’re scared, it will only hurt me in the end. I dinnae like it when ye become so… so cold. It’s cruel, even if ye dinnae realize it.”
There wasn’t much Tiernan could say to that. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Isabeau or to make her think that he didn’t care about her. And yet, if he were honest with himself, he had already done more than enough to hurt her.
“Forgive me,” he said, as he pulled her into a tender kiss. Isabeau melted into it as though she was had never been angered by his behavior, as though this was all she needed to forgive him; and that, too, frightened Tiernan. He didn’t want her to be so easy to forgive, not when it could hurt her so easily. “I dinnae mean tae be cruel. But I… I’ve made mistakes, Isabeau. An’ these mistakes will hurt ye, even if I dinnae want that.”
Isabeau let out a soft, disbelieving chuckle. “What dae ye mean? Ye havenae done anythin’ tae hurt me.”
“I have,” Tiernan insisted. “I ruined ye. Dinnae ye see? Yer braithers will have me head fer this…”
Isabeau’s gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, her positive spirits dampened. It was heartbreaking to see. Tiernan never wanted to see her like this, but it was the truth; he would be lucky if Ewan and Alaric only had him hanged and didn’t do something worse to him if they found out about them.
But then Isabeau looked up at him, her expression one of absolute determination. Even in the fights in which he had been, Tiernan had never seen such a fierce look in anyone’s eyes.
“I will speak tae me braithers. I’ll make them understand,” she said, and she sounded so committed to that plan that Tiernan couldn’t help but believe her, at least momentarily. “I’ll speak tae them when the time comes. But until then, we have more pressin’ matters. We stay alive… an’ we kill Constantine.”