Page 27 of The Highlander’s Fallen Angel (Brotherhood of Solway Moss #2)

“True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about and few have seen.”

Francois de La Rochefoucauld – French Writer, 1613–1680

Tierney pissed with great relief behind the privacy screen in the small room she was sharing with Morag and Sara. Rory, Cyrus, and Kenan shared his captain’s cabin. Prying off the armor over the scratches from Ranulf hadn’t been pleasant, and she was now dressed in a smock and petticoat again.

“And you stuffed bread dough up his mouth and nose?” Sara said, her voice full of humor, unlike her brother. Kenan had been furious. Even in his whispers to her on the dinghy, he’d thrown daggers at her. She still felt sick from the blood loss.

She swallowed past the familiar guilt. “’Twas the only weapon I could reach, and you can’t breathe through it, and bastards can’t assault when they can’t breathe.”

“Clever and quick thinking,” Morag said. The kind words didn’t lift Tierney up like they should. She wished she could be alone to think and to do something with the blasted press of tears behind her eyes.

Sara shook her head. “I cannot imagine your poor mother being naked for a month.”

“They should both be examined for cuts and bruises and taint along with the ship’s crew,” Morag said.

“We didn’t retrieve the ship, did we?” Tierney asked, letting her shoulders slump forward as she sat on the edge of a hammock.

“No,” Sara said. “Kenan felt we should depart with the rescued people and negotiate for the ship’s return.”

There was that word again. Negotiate. Would Murdoc Matheson act with honor when Ranulf surely wouldn’t?

Rap. Rap.

All three looked at the cabin door, but Morag went to it, pulling it open.

Kenan stood there looking damp, and Tierney noticed the sound of rain above. “Lady Tierney,” he said. “A word.”

“I highly doubt it will be one word,” Tierney said as she rose from her seat. Her voice sounded firm, irreverent, but inside she felt the hollowness of regret.

Sara lowered her heavy cloak over her shoulders, and Tierney followed Kenan up the narrow ladder to the deck where a gentle rain pattered down. They stopped at the aft gunwale that was partially covered by raised sails. The water whooshed and gurgled behind the ship as they sailed through the cold, dark waters of the loch.

They stood in silence for so long that Tierney jumped when Kenan spoke. “We weren’t able to speak freely in the dinghy.”

“You seemed to speak fine,” she said, remembering his biting words. She looked at him. “Or are you going to yell at me now that you aren’t worried about your men hearing?”

“Damn it, Tierney, ye could have been killed.” He wasn’t yelling, but his words were full of force. “Ye were assaulted.” He looked out at the darkness. “I will kill that bastard.”

“You could have been killed, too,” she said, her heart thumping.

“I am a warrior.”

“So am I, but your death is acceptable? You can risk your life, but I can’t? You wouldn’t even consider my plans. Ignored them. Wanted me to ring a damn bell.”

He ran his hands through his hair that was getting wetter with the rain blowing down around the sail. He huffed. “When I saw ye…fighting for yer life, saving yer own life…my gut all but dropped out of me. I would have given up everything…” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Would have turned my back on uniting the clans to save ye, to take revenge upon Ranulf.”

She looked up at him. “But you didn’t. You didn’t retaliate.”

He shook his head. “I was so close.” He held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “I could have easily killed Ranulf before his brother and jeopardized our chance of peace.”

“Because of me.”

“Ye were only to release the crew and get to safety. It was a good plan.”

“But you weren’t safe.”

“But ye would be.”

“I’ve never been safe!” she yelled. “My whole life is dangerous. I’ve learned to fight for my freedom despite being told no. I’ve learned to do it alone.”

“Ye do not have to fight alone. I am here to protect ye.”

“I don’t want you protecting me!”

“Why not?”

“Because one day you will stop, and I’ll be alone again.” Her voice had risen over the sound of the increasing rain. “On my own, trying to protect Maggie and me and Gabriel.” She thumped her fist into the middle of his chest with each name as words tumbled out of her. “You will treat me like…like I’m everything to you until I’m not, and then I’ll need to survive without your help. So I never stop fighting. I never let my guard down. I won’t fall for that again. I just won’t!” She felt the words tear out of her like a sob, and she stepped to the rail, her face turned up to the rain to wash away the unbidden tears.

Her breath came in shallow inhales as she stared blindly out into the stormy night. Kenan came up beside her. His face bent near hers, his lips at her ear. “I’m not yer father, Tierney. I don’t love ye until someone better shows up.”

Love? Did he say love? Her heart clenched hard, making her want to throw up. How dare he lie to her?

She turned to him, blinking, her face fierce. “I know you are not my father. It isn’t that.” The denial came out even though her tears came with it. Tears that showed he’d pressed the festering open wound.

He wouldn’t look away, tethering her with his gaze. “Aye, I think it is. He left ye once he had a son. Stopped taking ye hunting, to that cottage in the woods, teaching ye things when Gabriel came around. Cora told me he stopped doing everything with ye, turned his back on ye. And then he married ye off to a monster. Someone ye might have thought would be good to ye, protect ye, but then ye ended up having to protect yerself and Maggie from him.”

Tierney felt a cracking inside as if the pitcher holding her tears of frustration and hurt were being broken, smashed with the hammer of his words, and the deluge of emotion was beyond her control. She stood stiff there in the tempest growing around them, the sky mimicking the monster of sorrow, hate, and distrust that lived within her.

No, no, no! I can’t… I’m fine. I’m better alone. She concentrated on pulling air through her lips and releasing it as hard sobs came unbeckoned and unwanted. ’Twas like a purging.

Kenan pulled her against him, his arms wrapping around her. Even though she wanted to be strong enough to yank back, his warmth and strength drew her, allowing her to be weak for a moment. Just a moment. She would regain control soon.

Right now. I will turn away.

Control and strength and independence would fill her again. She waited, letting the sobs subside, but the tears continued, adding salt to his already drenched tunic.

Tierney curled in on herself, her arms tucked as he held her against him. He didn’t ask her to stop, didn’t try to usher her somewhere else. He just held her, a rock in the storm. Slowly her arms opened, and she slid them around his waist, her fingers curling into the back of his wet tunic.

“Chief Kenan,” someone called. “The storm’s a right banshee. We will have to put in near Dun Haakon for the night.”

She tried to release him, but he didn’t drop his arms. “Tell Cyrus Mackinnon,” Kenan said over her head.

“Aye,” the man said, and Tierney could hear him striding off, the thumps of his boots disappearing quickly under the sound of the ship cutting through growing waves and wind.

With a full breath, Tierney released his tunic and lifted her head. She stared up into Kenan’s face. It was hard to see him in the deep shadows, but he was looking at her. His hand came up to brush a strand of wet hair from her cheek, taking the time to slide it behind her equally wet ear. The gentle touch made her heartbeat tremble. He leaned in but didn’t kiss her, his mouth moving to her ear. His breath was warm. “When ye’re ready to believe I am who I say I am, that I’m speaking truth to ye…marry me, Tierney.”

He didn’t wait for an answer but turned, his hand finding hers. He slid his fingers through hers, weaving them intimately as he led her back to the room where he’d found her.

Rap. Rap .

Sara answered the door, her eyes growing wide. “And we just got her warm and dressed.” She gave her brother a scolding look. “I don’t even know if we have more dry gowns.”

Sara took her from Kenan’s arm, looking back and forth between them before giving her brother a withering look. “What did you say to her?”

“I must see to the storm,” he said and turned away.

Sara closed the door and hurried over to Tierney with a towel. “What did my awful brother do to you?”

Morag came to stand before her while Sara mopped Tierney’s face. Tierney looked down at her folded hands. “He asked me to marry him.”

…

“So ye truly want to wed the woman who drugged and shackled ye?” Cyrus asked as he climbed over the side to descend into the dinghy tied to the Sweet Elspet .

Kenan’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Rory, standing beside him at the gunwale.

Rory shrugged. “I thought it best to let Cy know ye hadn’t just run off from my wedding with her in an effort to avoid Grace.”

Kenan looked back at Cyrus. “She had honorable reasons.”

“Good thing she didn’t have any bread dough to suffocate ye with,” Cyrus said as he climbed down the rope ladder.

“I wouldn’t have done her much good dead.”

“Ye still might want to lock her out of the kitchen when ye marry,” Rory said.

When? It was definitely more of an if they marry.

Cyrus grinned and gave a small shake to his head. “I’ll tell Grace that ye aren’t the man for her.” His smile flattened as he sat in the small boat where Bartholomew had already taken up the oars. “And I will stop Father from sending troops to burn Dunscaith. Somehow.”

“Thank ye,” Kenan said, and Cyrus nodded.

Cyrus and Bartholomew would walk the rest of the way back to Dun Haakon along the shoreline. The rest of the Mackinnons who’d accompanied Cyrus would journey back to Dunscaith’s port to ride their horses home. Cyrus was anxious to see how his father fared and if he’d made plans to attack during the few days he’d been gone.

“Sails to be raised,” Tomas called out, taking his cue from Kenan’s nod. Voices repeated the order down the Sweet Elspet . The Tempest and half the Birlinn ships had already moved down the strait of Kyle Rhea toward the Sleat Peninsula.

A rotation on both ships had kept watch through the storm and into the morning to see if the Mathesons would launch a naval attack after them, but the seas had remained vacant. Kenan had no idea how Murdoc would react after finding Tierney’s parents and the MacNicol crew liberated. Prior to that, he’d sounded reasonable and as annoyed with Ranulf as Kenan was about Gilbert. The two second sons should be stranded on an isle to rule it together, away from the rest of Scotland.

The sails snapped, raining water upon them on deck, as they caught the wind. Rory stood beside Kenan at the rail, letting the sailors move around the coils of ropes and supply crates. With the addition of the Rosemary’s crew split between both ships, there were more than enough hands on deck.

Kenan watched, but his mind played out the conversation from last night. He’d pushed her to tears, but after what she’d endured, Tierney needed to bleed out some of that pain. He knew one conversation wouldn’t be enough to lighten her past, but hopefully it was a start. The fact that she hadn’t pushed him away, had finally clung to him, added to the hopeful flame in his chest.

“Has she given ye an answer yet?” Rory asked.

“I didn’t ask her to marry me.”

“Sara said ye did.”

Kenan steepled his fingers on his forehead, leaving his thumb free to push into his temple that had begun to ache. “I told her that if she decided she could marry someone again, she should marry me. That’s not asking her.”

Rory shrugged. “Tierney told Sara and Morag ye asked her to marry her.”

Daingead . What an awful proposal if that had been one. “If I was really asking, I wouldn’t have done so in a downpour on the deck of a tossing ship.”

“I’m just saying, Tierney, Sara, and yer aunt think ye’ve asked for Tierney’s hand.”

“Did Tierney tell Sara if she’d answer aye or nay?”

“So ye did ask?”

“Bloody hell, Rory, I don’t know. Maybe I did. I don’t really care about the asking, only the answer.”

Rory’s brows rose. “Ladies care about the asking.”

Kenan made a sound like a growl, causing several men nearby to glance his way. “Have ye seen Tierney this morn?” He had gone to her cabin at first light but didn’t hear any movement inside and didn’t want to disturb the ladies if they were sleeping.

“I saw Sara,” Rory said, “down in the hull behind some crates.” He gave a wicked grin. “’Twas quite a nice way to wake up.”

Kenan stared at him without blinking until Rory continued. “Sara says Tierney was still asleep. She has bruised feet from running on rocks, scratches from Ranulf that they’ve treated with an herbal paste, and bruises the shape of fingers around her upper arms and shoulders. Otherwise, she is well.”

“I should have run that bastard through,” Kenan said.

“It would have felt good.” Rory nodded. “But we decided to try for peace instead of conquest. Leaving him alive was the best, even though I get the idea that Murdoc wouldn’t mind his brother being gone.”

“Like me with Gilbert, a thorn stuck in my foot. Annoying as hell with the possibility of tainting my blood and killing me.”

“I wonder where Winnie Mar is and her brother, Reid,” Rory said.

“One thorn at a time,” Kenan said. Right now, he was completely focused on another problem, a fallen angel with a brilliant mind, the courage of a goddess, and a stubborn streak as long as Hadrian’s wall.

A fallen angel he was beginning to think he couldn’t live without.