“I…I…” She looked away.
“Nay, Claire, eyes on me. Do ye want to be a nun?”
She looked into his eyes again and couldn’t lie. “Nay, but—”
“Then stop right there. That’s all I needed to hear. Nothing has changed.”
“But I think if I return to the peace and spiritual solitude of the abbey, for just a little while, my calling will become clear.”
Coll frowned. “Well, I don’t. Frankly, I think the trouble ye’ve had deciding if ye’re called to the religious life is based firmly in the fact that ye don’t belong there and ye know it. If God were calling ye, he’s had ten years in the peace and spiritual solitude of the abbey to make Himself heard. I don’t believe that’s His intention. I think He’s brought ye here for a reason.”
“God didn’t bring me here. Yer guardsmen did.” Her tone sounded petulant to her own ears. Claire was fully present with her.
“Claire, stop it. This discussion is over. I can’t make it any clearer. Ye aren’t returning to the abbey. Ye are not intended for holy vows, ye know that as well as I do. Last night ye said ye don’t think Tavish can love ye. I disagree, but I won’t force ye. There are other fine men with whom I can arrange a betrothal.”
“I don’t want to get married.”
He shook his head in exasperation. “Are ye afraid of marriage?”
“Nay, it isn’t that.”
“I realize ye’ve led a very sheltered life. If it’s the marriage bed that worries ye—”
Cassie put up a hand as the heat rose in her cheeks. “Please stop.” The last thing she needed was a medieval man trying to tell her about the birds and the bees.
“If that’s it, I could ask Lady Ranald to…”
“That’s not it. If I can’t go back to the abbey, could I at least return to Lewis with ye for a while?”
Coll gave a frustrated sigh. “Very well. As long as ye promise to seriously consider a betrothal to someone else.”
“I will.”
“Then if ye still want to go home with me when the time comes, I’ll allow it.”
Before Cassie had the opportunity to feel more than a moment’s relief, Coll added, “But I want ye to think long and hard about this. I want ye to figure out what it is that ye’re afraid of.”
“I’m not afraid of anything.” Her voice sounded overly defensive to her own ears.
“Aye, Claire, ye are. And once ye figure out what it is, we can address it. I won’t let ye run away from life, from the possibility of a happy marriage that will also benefit our clan, because of some unknown fear.”
Cassie didn’t argue with him further. There was no point. The fact that he’d agreed to take her with him to Lewis was enough for now.
Chapter 17
Claire’s admission to her brother the previous night had devastated Tavish. She wanted to leave—to return to the abbey. The fact that he’d known this was her plan from the start didn’t lessen his pain. Although initially he hadn’t been trying to woo her into a betrothal, he had made every attempt to convince her she didn’t belong in the abbey.
And he’d thought he was winning that battle. Therefore, he also believed convincing her that he loved her and wanted to marry her was certainly achievable.
But she had announced to his father and her brother that even though she hadn’t made a decision about becoming a nun, she wanted to return to the abbey. She didn’t want to marry him.
Damn it all, he knew this was his doing. From the outset, he had told her that he didn’t want to be married and eventually had given her the reason why. Furthermore, she had assured him, he wouldn’t break her heart. She certainly couldn’t know he’d changed—or more accurately that she’d changed him.
He’d have to show her.
Thankfully, her brother hadn’t agreed to take her to the abbey. He’d said he wouldn’t make any decision until after Michaelmas, so Tavish had some time to win her.
At least he thought he did. And while he made multiple attempts to be alone with her, over the next several days, Claire managed to prevent it. Worse yet, something had shifted. Until the day she spent sequestered in prayer, she seemed to relish every moment at Castle Ranald, throwing herself fully into whatever she did.
Now, she presented a calm, reserved front. She was still as polite and kind as ever, but the joyful exuberance he’d grown to love was absent. It was as if she were preparing herself to return to the quiet seclusion of the abbey.
He hadn’t heard her laugh in days.
He must do something soon or risk losing her.
Then the MacLeans arrived and things became infinitely worse. While it was always good to see his brother, Hugh, this time it came at a price—the presence of Laird MacLean’s younger brothers.
James and Andrew were charming bastards and soon it became clear they were both attracted to Claire. For that matter, Hugh seemed smitten with her too. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Coll didn’t discourage the attention any of them paid to his sister. While she seemed to enjoy their company, he still hadn’t seen the lively cheerfulness she’d exhibited up until the day she spent in the chapel, praying.
He wanted to be angry, but he only had himself to blame. After all, he’d told her he didn’t want to be married and that he loved someone else. Clearly, both James and Andrew had no such impediments. And while Hugh was young, at twenty-one he was certainly old enough to be betrothed to her. His training would end soon.
By the time the feast of St. Michael finally arrived, Tavish could barely contain his temper. Laird MacLean’s brothers, not to mention his own, practically fought over the chance to sit near her and dance with her. When Tavish was finally able to claim her for a dance, he didn’t want to let her go at the end of it. He grasped her hand and pulled her away from the dancers…and the MacLeans.
“Tavish, what are ye doing?”
“I want to talk to ye. Alone.”
She practically snorted. “The great hall is overflowing with people. We’re hardly alone.”
“I know that. Still, I have to take any opportunity that presents itself. I’ve had no time with ye since yer brother arrived.”
She sighed heavily and shook her head. “Ye know why.”
“Aye, but things have changed.”
“Things have changed? How?”
This wasn’t the time to declare his love for her. “It’s a long story.”
“Then ye clearly can’t tell it to me now.”
“Nay, I can’t. But if ye’ll go riding with me tomorrow—alone—I’ll tell ye everything.”
“I don’t see how I can do that. My brother will be leaving in a few days. He’s accepted the fact that he won’t get the marriage alliance he sought with yer da. And while I’d rather return to the abbey, I’ve promised to at least consider a betrothal to someone else. So he’s agreed to take me back to Lewis with him. I’ll need to begin packing tomorrow.”
“Claire, I—”
“Nay, Tavish. This was the plan from the start. I must leave.”
Before he could convince her otherwise, Andrew MacLean appeared.
“There ye are, my bonny lassie. I feared ye’d been spirited away by angels jealous of yer beauty—or my brother.”
Claire shook her head and gave a little laugh. “Now, ye’re just being ridiculous.”
“Ah, ye wound me.” He winked at her. “Make it up to me by giving me this dance?” He held out his hand.
She smiled apologetically at Tavish as she took Andrew’s hand, allowing him to lead her away.
Tavish followed calling, “Claire, wait!” But she either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him, because she kept going.
James MacLean took that moment to appear. “She’s off to dance with Andrew, is she?”
“Aye,” Tavish ground out, adding “Damn it all,” in frustration.
James barked a laugh. “I’d say ye’re being a bit like the dog guarding the manger.”
“What are ye talking about,”
demanded Tavish, unable to hide his irritation.
“Ye know the fable. A dog was lying in a manger full of hay and when the cows came to eat, he barked and growled, refusing to let them eat the hay even though he himself couldn’t eat it.”
“I know the fable. I don’t see how it applies.”
James cocked his head to one side. “Do ye not? As I understand it, that lovely creature has been here for over six weeks, her laird has been here now for over a week, and yet there’s no betrothal in place. That makes me think it isn’t going to happen. Granted, I suppose it’s possible that she has no interest in ye, but by the way her eyes follow ye when ye’re not looking, I’d say that’s not likely. So I can only assume ’twas ye who blocked the betrothal.”
Tavish glowered at him.
James shrugged. “Ye see now? Dog and manger?”
“Ye don’t know what yer yammering on about.”
“Oh, I think I have pretty good idea. Look, Tavish, it’s obvious to me, if not to my brother, that yon sweet lass isn’t interested in either of us. She only has eyes for ye. So either let her go, or do what ye must to win her hand.”
James sauntered off before Tavish could form a reply. And what could he say? The man was right.
He started to walk to the head table when Boyd nearly plowed into him.
“Come with me,” his little brother demanded.
“Boyd, I’m in no mood to—”
“I don’t care what kind of a mood ye’re in. Come with me now.”
Tavish glanced towards the dancers to see Claire still dancing with Andrew. This night was just getting better and better. He may as well deal with whatever bug Boyd had up his arse now as later. “Fine.”
Boyd strode towards the front doors and out of the great hall, clearly expecting his brother to follow.
Tavish rolled his eyes and left the hall. Once they were in the relative quiet of the bailey, Boyd turned to him, demanding, “What’s the matter with ye?”
“Oh, for the love of all that’s holy, Boyd, what are ye talking about?”
“Ye’re letting those MacLean…those MacLean…arses,” Boyd glanced around perhaps fearful that Mam or Da were within hearing range before continuing. “Ye’re letting them woo Claire.”
Boyd’s outrage was endearing and Tavish couldn’t help but ask, “Why does that bother ye?”
Boyd scowled, his eyes turning surprisingly bright, as if he were about to cry. “Because I love her and I don’t want her to leave.”
“Boyd,” Tavish said gently, “ye’re too young to marry her.”
“I know that,” he practically roared. “And I don’t want to marry her. I want ye to marry her. Mam loves her, and Da loves her, and I know ye love her too. Why are ye being such a big eejit? Get in there and get her back.”
Tavish couldn’t help but chuckle. “Boyd, I won’t deny being an eejit, but I can’t exactly go in there and drag her away from the dancing.”
“Why not?” he demanded.
“Because it will cause a scene if I do that now.”
Boyd harrumphed and started to head back into the keep.
“Where are ye going?” asked Tavish.
“To find Hugh. If ye’re stupid enough to let Claire go, maybe he’ll marry her.”
“Nay, Boyd, stop. I know ye want Claire to stay here. I do too. But don’t go mucking about with this. I swear to ye, I will take care of it.”
“You’d better,” he said still frowning.
~ * ~
Cassie was exhausted by the time she went to bed that night. The last few days had been completely draining, and yet somehow sleep evaded her. When the MacLeans arrived she recognized the blessing she’d been given. James and Andrew were funny and charming. Hugh Ranald was a pleasant surprise too. While he looked very much like Tavish, he was quiet and somewhat shy.
Turning her attention to the MacLeans appeared to convince Coll that she and Tavish were not meant for each other. It also made it look as if she had done as he’d asked and was strongly considering marriage. She’d hoped it might help the Ranalds come to grips with the fact that she was not going to marry Tavish, but she wasn’t sure it had.
Most importantly, spending time with the visitors, made it easy for her to avoid Tavish. Once she realized she loved him, she couldn’t go back to the way things had been. She had enjoyed the easy camaraderie that had formed between them, but now it had become excruciating. Not to mention the fact that it would have been cruel to continue to give his parents the wrong idea.
Therefore, the other men had become a welcome distraction. In truth, they were all kind men and gave every indication they were attracted to her. Perhaps if she had met them before falling in love with Tavish, she might have seriously considered a betrothal to any of the three, instead of returning to her own time.
But she hadn’t.
She couldn’t help but find her situation painfully ironic. Tavish couldn’t open his heart to her because he loved another. And she couldn’t love another because she’d opened her heart to him.
But it was nearly over. Finally, early in the day on Michaelmas, Coll had agreed she could go with him when he returned to Lewis.
She had accomplished what she’d needed to.
She knew Laird and Lady Ranald would still be extremely disappointed. Lady Ranald had tried more than once to get her to change her mind about Tavish.
One afternoon, after they had all returned from an outing, when Cassie was on the way to her chamber, she ran into Lady Ranald in the corridor. The kind woman appeared to have been waiting for her.
“Claire, dear, did ye have a nice ride?”
“Aye, my lady. Thank ye.”
“I haven’t heard ye mention returning to the abbey since yer brother arrived. Have ye changed yer mind?”
“Not really. I still want to go back, but Coll insists that I spend a little more time outside the walls while I make my decision. I do miss the abbey.”
Lady Ranald nodded. “I expect ye do. But ye know, ye can spend as much time as ye wish in prayer here. And ye can paint…or read. Ye don’t have to return to the abbey to do those things.”
Cassie’s heart clenched. It was obvious that Lady Ranald was fond of her. Cassie had never experienced this kind of affection from a parent. Disapproval, disappointment, frank criticism, yes. But not this.
“I know, my lady. Ye have been so very kind and welcoming. I can’t tell ye what that has meant to me.”
“Then please…” Tears welled in the older woman’s eyes. “Please stay and marry Tavish.”
Cassie enfolded the woman in her arms. What could she say? “My lady…I have to trust that the good Lord will guide me to the right path.”
Cassie’s heart ached anew as she remembered that conversation. She hated hurting her like this. Even so Cassie was certain it would lessen her pain in the long run.
There were moments—like that one—when Cassie was forced to question whether receiving the pocket watch had been a gift, as Gertrude had said, or a curse. But those thoughts never lasted long. In spite of how terribly difficult everything had become, Cassie was still glad she’d used the pocket watch. She had learned a lot. Not only about her medieval surroundings, but about herself as well. Once back in her own time, she’d be able to go on with her life.
And Tavish would go on with his.
Someday he’d have to marry, regardless of whether he could love the girl or not. Cassie felt sorry for her. It wasn’t fair. But if life was fair, Tavish would be with his beloved and Cassie would never have lost Tom.
She’d toyed with the idea of looking up Clan Ranald’s history when she returned to the twenty-first century. She’d like to know that Tavish, and for that matter Boyd and Hugh, found their happily-ever-afters. She’d also feel less guilty about disappointing Lady Ranald if she knew the dear woman had eventually gotten the daughters-in-law she yearned for, and perhaps even granddaughters. On the other hand, it was equally possible that what she’d learn about them
would only add to her distress. She decided it was better just to leave the past in the past.
All of this should have made her content, if not completely happy.
But it didn’t.
She felt…lost. It was as if she had been striding purposefully down what she confidently believed was the right path, only to find it wasn’t taking her where it should. She was heading somewhere she didn’t want to be and now she had no idea which way to go.
And then tonight, on top of everything else, Tavish told her things had changed.
She didn’t want to hear it. As far as she could see, nothing had changed, except perhaps that other men appeared interested in marrying her. She suspected any change of heart Tavish had was driven by his pride and perhaps jealousy.
No. She’d made her peace. She sighed heavily. It would only be a few days. She just had to keep it all together until then.
Chapter 18
The next morning Tavish waited in the great hall for Claire to come down for breakfast. He was going to take her riding whether she believed she wanted to go or not. And once he had her alone, he intended to beg her to stay at Castle Ranald and be his wife. But to his endless irritation, she didn’t come downstairs for breakfast. When he saw Claire’s maid, Kenna, heading upstairs, he asked her to tell Claire he wanted to speak with her.
Kenna frowned. “I’ll do my best, sir. But she is dead set on packing today. I don’t know if she’ll come down or not.”
When Kenna reemerged from the tower stairs, half an hour later, with the news that Lady Claire preferred to continue packing, he knew he could wait no longer. Not if he didn’t wish to lose her.
He went upstairs and knocked on her chamber door.
When she opened it, her eyes went wide, as if shocked to see him. “I’m sorry, Tavish. I told Kenna to tell ye that I don’t have time to go out today.”
“Then ye’ll make time.” He strode into her room, snatched her mantle from the wardrobe, and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her out the door. “We are going riding.”
The Gift: The Pocket Watch Chronicles Page 15