Page 28 of Bound to a Highland Beast (Tales of Love and Lust in the Murray Castle #8)

One week later…

Tiernan had used his skills one last time to secure him and Isabeau a fresh change of clothes each and a horse so they could make it back to Castle MacGregor. It had been a necessary evil, something he couldn’t have avoided no matter how much he may have wanted to—and wanted to he did, since he had promised himself that he wouldn’t let Beag’s last words get to him.

He was not a brigand anymore. Even if he would carry a part of that life with him forever, he never wanted to act like that again. He never wanted to take another life, to steal, to cause any more harm.

This was the last time, he told himself. It was the last one and it was necessary. He had told himself while doing it that he would make sure to reimburse the people he had stolen from as soon as he had enough coin.

The fresh clothes had helped them blend in and the horse had now taken them all the way to Castle MacGregor, the building appearing in the far distance like a crown jewel on its hill. The sight of the turrets, the curtain walls, the keep that seemed to stretch up to the heavens was painfully familiar, making Tiernan’s breath catch in his throat.

He would have never guessed he would miss a place so much. It had been such a long time since he had last had a real home, since he could call a place home. For years, he had roamed around the Highlands, from bed, to whatever room if he was lucky enough to even have one before getting on the road again for the next assignment, the next target. He hadn’t realized just how tired he was of it until now that he could see the castle in the distance—his home, the place where he could return to familiar places, familiar surroundings.

But for how long? Would this keep being his home once Isabeau’s brothers found out what he had done to her? She was optimistic they would welcome him into the family and be perfectly fine with the two of them marrying, even if they knew of his past, even if he wasn’t noble-born.

But Tiernan wasn’t as optimistic as he had been after their talk and during their trip; he couldn’t allow himself to be as optimistic. If anything, he was quite certain her brothers would throw him right out of the castle if not outright kill him, taking him straight to the gallows.

He couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it. If anything, he deserved nothing less for being so reckless, so selfish. He loved Isabeau, he truly did; but since he loved her and wanted what was best for her, he should have waited until they returned to the castle to even touch her arm. Instead, he had been impatient; he had taken advantage of the fact that they were alone, giving in to his desires and damning them both in the process.

Just before they reached the swell of the hill where the castle stood, Tiernan brought the horse to a halt, swallowing in a dry throat. The thoughts had overwhelmed him. The more he considered what might await them both in that castle, the heavier the reins felt in his hands.

In front of him, Isabeau shifted, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Why did ye stop?”

Tiernan parted his lips as if to speak, but he soon found he didn’t know what to say. If he shared his concerns, Isabeau would be quick to reassure him there was nothing to worry about. But Tiernan couldn’t explain to her just how impossible it seemed to him to keep going, just how terrible the immediate future seemed. It was as though a dark cloud had come over him, obscuring everything but the worst-case scenario, which played over and over in his head, no matter how much he tried to push it out of his mind.

Sometimes it was easy to believe that Isabeau was right, that he was worthy of her love, but others it was impossible to convince himself of it. This was one of the latter, when doubt crept into his mind and paralyzed him, forcing him into inaction.

It was a strange feeling for someone like him, who was so used to rapid and fearless decisions. He was formidable in the face of danger, never once slowing down, but when it came to love, he couldn’t help but think of himself as a coward.

If he was truly brave, he would march up to the castle and declare to anyone who cared to listen that he and Isabeau were in love and anyone who wished to do so could try and separate them, and then see how that would end for them. But in reality, he dreaded the moment he would meet her brothers and the council. He dreaded the thought that with one word, they could have him hanged and Isabeau married to another man.

In the end, that was the truth, even if it pained him. All his life, Tiernan and men like him had been powerless against the noble classes. What could he do if her brothers were against their love? He couldn’t fight them; he couldn’t fight an entire army on his own.

Will Alaric understand? Will he be on our side?

This question had plagued Tiernan ever since he had told Isabeau of his desire to marry her. Alaric had always seemed like a decent man to him; he had even been the one to give him a place in the castle as a blacksmith, helping him escape the Ravencloaks. Not only, that but he, too, was married to a woman who had once been an outlaw. He and Isabeau weren’t so different and yet, he could make decisions for himself, while Isabeau was chained to the decisions of others.

“Come,” Isabeau said, placing her hands over his on the reins to guide the horse forward. “It is worse if we delay it.”

Tiernan didn’t know if that was necessarily true. If he could, he would delay this forever, freezing them both in this moment so he never had to face the possibility that they could take Isabeau away from him. Even so, he let Isabeau guide the horse towards the castle once more, surrendering himself to whatever fate awaited him.

If it was the gallows, then so be it. He would never stop loving her; he would never stop wanting to be her husband.

Once at the gates, the two guards who stood sentinel there instantly recognized Isabeau, calling to their fellow soldiers on the curtain walls to open the gates. One of them rushed inside, running like a madman, and Tiernan knew precisely where he was going—to notify Laird Ewan MacGregor, Isabeau’s brother, that they had returned.

No sooner had he and Isabeau entered the castle grounds and dismounted the horse than Ewan and Alaric appeared at the main doors of the keep, staring at them both with wide eyes, their mouths hanging open in shock. And no sooner had Isabeau taken a step towards them than Ewan unseated the sword on his hip and charged at Tiernan, red-faced and furious, just as Tiernan had expected.

Had it not been for Alaric and Isabeau both lunging at him to stop him in his tracks, Tiernan would have been dead in moments. He never even had the desire to fight, to protect himself. He knew that if he so much as tried, his death would be much worse than if he simply accepted it, all the guards jumping in to defend their laird.

Tiernan watched as Alaric held Ewan still, his arms wrapped tightly around his torso, as Isabeau spoke to him in hushed tones. Tiernan couldn’t tell what she was saying—her voice was too low and she was turned away from him, but whatever she was telling her brother seemed to work. Slowly, Ewan’s grip on his sword loosened and he sagged in Alaric’s arms, the fight draining out of him.

Tiernan had seen Isabeau in action before. He had seen how she could sway whole groups of people, getting them to do as she pleased, but he had never thought it would work on the laird himself. It turned out that even he wasn’t immune to the talents of his sister, whose words could soothe as easily as they could inflame.

All three MacGregors glanced at Tiernan then and he couldn’t help but think their stares were oddly uncanny when they all looked at him at the same time. After a moment of further discussion, Isabeau rushed to him, her tone apologetic as she spoke.

“Me braither requests that ye come with us, but he wishes tae speak tae me first,” she said. “But dinnae fash… he promised tae put the sword away.”

That wasn’t much of a relief, not when Tiernan was almost certain he would end up dead by the end of it all anyway. Still, he had no other choice but to follow the siblings into the keep, through the opulent corridors and all the way to what he assumed to be the laird’s study, by the small glimpse he caught of the room before the door was shut right in his face.

It was his first time in the keep. Tiernan had never been there before, since he didn’t really have any business being there, and as he was following the others there, he didn’t have the chance to look around either. It was only now that he was alone in the hallway, left to wait there while the others discussed the situation as though his opinion didn’t even matter, that he had the time to look around and take in his surroundings, marveling at the displays of wealth.

Heavy, ornate tapestries covered parts of the wall, depicting scenes from hunts and natural motifs. Other walls were decorated with portraits of people Tiernan could only assume had once been important to the clan. There was even a full armor in the corner, old but shined to perfection, the finish like a mirror.

I wonder who spends his days polishin’ that.

Time trickled by slowly as Tiernan waited for the others to finish their discussion. Eventually, he ran out of things to observe and was left with nothing but his thoughts. There was not even a single guard in sight, no one to whom he could turn for some conversation, for anything that would distract him from the agony of waiting.

And so, he waited and waited—and then waited some more. When the door of the laird’s study finally opened, it was Isabeau who stood at the other side and soon she joined him in the hallway as she closed the door behind her.

She had hardly managed to leave the room when Tiernan grasped her shoulders, pulling her close to examine her expression, only to find that it was unreadable.

“What did they say?” he asked. He both dreaded and needed the answer. He couldn’t wait any longer. He felt as though his heart was about to burst right out of his chest and fall on the floor by his feet. The past few minutes—as it had to have been minutes, even though it had felt like hours—had been the worst torture he had ever had to endure in his life.

“They… didnae,” Isabeau said with a small frown. “I told them what I had tae tell them. They listened and they asked me a lot of questions. I told them how ye protected me and saved me life more than once. I also told them that you offered yer life in exchange for me freedom. Then they asked me tae step outside so they could discuss it.”

Isabeau didn’t seem particularly pleased with the outcome, and Tiernan couldn’t blame her. She had come to the castle with the firm belief that her brothers would listen to her, that they would immediately agree to this marriage, but Tiernan had not been fooled by this optimism. It was only natural that they wouldn’t agree. In fact, it was a wonder they needed to discuss it at all. He had thought they would simply kick him out and be done with him.

He didn’t say any of this to Isabeau, though. Even if the foundations of her optimism had been shaken to their core, he could see that she still held onto some hope Tiernan would be accepted in the family. He only held her tightly, waiting with her in silence as Ewan and Alaric discussed the matter.

It wasn’t long before the door opened once more, and this time, Alaric stood at the other side, beckoning them both closer. Tiernan exchanged a quick glance with Isabeau, each looking to the other for strength, before they stepped into the room hand in hand. At the other end, Ewan sat behind his large oak desk, looking every bit as regal as Tiernan imagined a king would be. Alaric moved next to him, standing by his side, the two men looking at him like a pair of hawks that were sizing him up, wondering if he was as tasty as he looked.

“Isabeau told us ye had the audacity tae ask fer her hand in marriage,” said Ewan, and that was enough to tell Tiernan everything he needed to know. They would not allow this; they would do anything to separate them.

But now, in Ewan’s study, with Isabeau’s hand in his, Tiernan found the strength to look him in the eye and know that he would do anything in order to stay with Isabeau. He didn’t care what it would take; no matter what, he was determined to do it.

“Ewan!” Isabeau gasped, her free hand coming up to clutch at her chest. “Dinnae speak tae him like that!”

“Ye dinnae think it was audacity tae ask fer yer hand in marriage?” Ewan asked. Next to him, Alaric was entirely silent and his expression betrayed nothing. A part of Tiernan had hoped that perhaps he would speak up, perhaps he would support them, but it seemed like he didn’t want to go against his brother. “Tell me, Mr. Falconer… what is it that ye have tae offer tae me sister?”

Tiernan drew in a deep breath and decided to be honest. There was nothing else he could do, no other strategy he could follow.

“Nae much,” he admitted, and Isabeau’s head snapped to the side to glare at him. “I dinnae have a title. I dinnae have land. I dinnae have gold, a house, or even a horse o’ me own… well, unless ye count the one I stole fer us tae come here.”

Perhaps that wasnae the wisest thing tae say.

Tiernan felt Isabeau stiffen next to him, her entire body going rigid at his words. When he looked at Alaric, though, he could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile on his lips, though it may have only been a trick of the light.

“What I mean is, I may nae have anythin’ tae me name,” he continued before the laird could speak, “but I can promise ye that I will love Isabeau an’ I will protect her fer as long as I live. I came here determined tae wed her an’ I will dae anythin’ it takes tae have yer blessin’. An’ if I cannae have yer blessin’ then… I dinnae ken what I’ll dae, but I promise ye I willnae give up on her without a fight. I ken me past, but I have vowed tae never return tae me old ways. I was forced into them out of hunger and desperation as a bairn and recently because Isabeau’s life was under threat. But I am a changed man, even more so after meeting yer sister, I love her. Naethin’ ye can say will change that.”

For a while, everyone in the room was silent. Tiernan was hyperaware of his own breathing, the sound loud and jarring in his ears. The more he looked at Ewan and Alaric, the faster his heart beat and the more his stomach turned, tying itself into knots.

“Then welcome tae the family,” Ewan said then, and for a moment, Tiernan’s mind couldn’t compute what the man had said. It was so far from what he had expected that he froze, uncertain, thinking that perhaps this was some sort of sick joke, one last chance to laugh at him before throwing him to the gallows.

With a long-suffering sigh, Isabeau threw her hands in the air in exasperation just as her brothers were quickly reduced to tears of mirth, laughing so uncontrollably that Ewan even spilled the cup of wine next to his hand all over his desk. With a mumbled curse, he tried to mop up as much as he could with his handkerchief, then moved to his sleeve, before finally giving up and collapsing back in his chair.

Out of them all, it seemed to Tiernan that he was the only one who had no idea what was happening.

“Ye should have seen yer face,” Alaric said as he approached, patting him on the shoulder.

“It really isnae funny,” Isabeau said. “Neither o’ ye is funny.”

“It serves ye right fer only sendin’ us one letter,” said Ewan, chastising her. “Ye had us all worried sick. We’ve been lookin’ fer ye all this time.”

“I already apologized fer that!” Isabeau shrieked in a tone that she only seemed to take on whenever she spoke to her brothers. “An’ I explained tae ye what happened! But ye came at Tiernan with a sword!”

“I thought he had taken ye!” Ewan said.

“But he hadnae!” said Isabeau.

Tiernan glanced between him and Isabeau.

“Braither, please, apologize tae him right the now,” she said quietly. “It’s the right thing tae do.”

Ewan dragged his gaze to Tiernan, then bowed his head ever so slightly. “Forgive me, Mr. Falconer. I was only worried about me sister.”

“I fully understand?—”

“Thank ye, Ewan, Alaric,” she said then, and the mood in the room seemed to shift abruptly, the weight sliding right off Tiernan’s shoulders. “Now, let us talk, fer we have a council tae face.”

As the siblings started discussing how to face the obstacles that they would surely encounter when informing the council, Tiernan sat back and breathed in for what seemed like the first time in weeks. His chest expanded, his shoulders relaxed—everything he had been holding onto for so long, all the fear, all the pain, all the grief, seemed to slowly seep out of him and dissipate as he stood there, still and silent, the chatter of the three siblings a distant sound in his ears.

He could not yet wrap his head around the fact that it was all over. He didn’t even really know if it truly was. Sure, the laird and Alaric had both agreed quite easily to this wedding, but would the council say the same thing? Could Ewan sway them if they put up resistance? Would Tiernan have to fight for him and Isabeau once more, just because they were from different worlds?

He didn’t know, but he supposed they were in no real rush. As he watched her laugh and soften around the edges, the stress of the past few weeks not yet gone but not as solid, as pressing either, his worries became distant, secondary. She was there with him. She was alive. She loved him just as he loved her.

And Tiernan didn’t need to know anything else.

But there’s more…

Eager to learn what the future holds for Isabeau & Tiernan ?

Then you may enjoy this extended epilogue .