“There was nothing but, lass.” Pain saturated his gaze. “I didnae realize how much there would be…how long it would stay with me…”
Her heart caught at the look in his eyes. Should she ask? Dare she? How could she not?
“And how long did it stay with ye?”
“’Tis still with me at this verra moment,” he murmured. “Do ye not see it in my eyes?” He brushed her chin with the pad of his thumb. “Even now, when ye mourn my brother’s passing, I mourn what I gave up.”
“Ye love me?” she whispered. “Even now?”
“More now than ever.” Fresh torture lit his gaze. “But that doesnae change anything. Ye gave yer love to Bróccín and ‘tis his memory ye’re home to visit as it should be.”
“Aye,” she managed.
While their gazes held, she realized Brighid was right all the way around. The love she felt for the brothers was markedly different. Bróccín never made her feel like she did right now. Her heart never pounded, nor did her breath catch. She never felt this alive but instead, comfortable. Companionable.
“We should go see if he left another scroll,” she said before she put voice to her thoughts and told him how she felt. Because he was right. She was home to say goodbye to her betrothed not fall in love with his brother all over again. Yet she feared as he nodded and pulled her after him, it was too late.
It had been too late the moment she awoke in his bed and found him standing beside her.
Colmac crouched at the corner of the hearth and peered at the area the rock had come loose from. “’Twas a verra small space.”
“Aye.” She remembered Bróccín crouched in the very same spot fitting the rock back in.
“It comes out easily enough.” Colmac pulled it free then peered in. His brows perked. “Och, ‘tis deeper than it used to be. Someone carved more space.”
“Aye?” She leaned over his shoulder. “Is there anything in there?”
“Aye.” He grinned, stood, and handed her a scroll just like the others.
“My goodness.” She glanced from him to the scroll then removed the sprig and red ribbon. “Bróccín truly wanted to send me on a journey, aye?”
“So it seems.” Colmac’s gaze remained on her face as she unrolled it. “What does it say, lass?”
She read it aloud.
My Dearest Friend,
If ye’re reading this, then ye’ve had yer dance and likely now know of all that was set aside so that I might love ye. I knew the sacrifices made, and for that, I am sorry. I just loved ye so much. Do ye remember what I said to ye the night I proposed? What I hoped I might get from ye? Then where I wished ye always go? Might ye go there and discover even more…
Yers,
Bróccín
“He called me ‘friend’ in this one.” She focused on that first because what the rest of the letter implied was difficult to wrap her mind around.
It sounded like a flat out confession.
“Aye, he called ye friend and,” brows furrowed, Colmac stood next to her and read the letter again, “it sounded as if…”
When he trailed off, she nodded and carefully rolled the letter, finishing Colmac’s thought for him. “ He knew we loved each other.”
Colmac’s expression was hard to read. “I dinnae know if I should be upset with him or not.”
“I think the time to be upset is long past.” Her eyes went to his. “Now is the time to forgive and move on. Like ye, I willnae think poorly of him. He was a good and kind man. ‘Tis best to understand that young love is capable of anything.”
“Aye,” he agreed.
Yet, like her, he clearly struggled with it
“What did he say to ye the night he proposed?” he asked. “What did he hope to get from ye?”
She touched her lips absently, recalling how Bróccín had stuttered he had been so nervous to ask. “A kiss.”
Colmac arched a brow. “And did it happen?”
“Aye.” She looked to the stairs. “In the hallway upstairs.”
“All the way up there, then?” Colmac looked at her curiously. “Are ye sure ‘twas just a kiss?”
“Of course, and a quick respectable kiss at that!” She rounded her eyes. “What sort of lassie do ye take me for?” She shook her head. “Yer brother was verra much a gentleman. He kissed me but one other time, saying all else would wait until we married.”
Surprise lit his gaze. “Aye? In all the time he romanced ye?”
“Aye!” She narrowed her eyes. “Again, what sort of lassie do ye take me for?”
“One who would have been kissed well and true many times over by now had ye walked the same path with me.” He pulled her after him. “Let us head that way and see what we can find.”
Dancing a merry jig with Aaron, Aunt Brighid grinned and winked at her in passing.
As she and Colmac headed upstairs, his attitude seemed to change. There was a new set to his jaw. A bolder look in his eyes. If she did not know better, she would say while he still intended to honor her mourning period, his intentions, in general, had changed.
“Where did he kiss ye,” he ground out at the top of the stairs.
“What is it, Colmac?” She frowned. “Ye seem upset.”
“Nay.” He shook his head, determination in his gaze. “Just impatient to find yer next message.” He cocked his head. “So where was yer kiss?”
“In the alcove just around the corner.”
He nodded and pulled her after him into said alcove. “Here, then?”
“Aye, ‘twas here.”
“Aye,” he agreed. “Where ye had yer first chaste respectable kiss. Now ye’ll get the sort of kiss ye should have got then.”
He pulled her against him, wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and for the first time in her life, gave her the type of kiss she had long dreamed of.
Chapter 8
While Colmac was certainly frustrated with his brother’s deception, his angst fled at the feeling of finally kissing Rona. He had dreamt of this moment again and again and found the reality of it even better. Understanding this was her first real kiss, he took his time, gentle and coaxing at first, until he could not help but relish her sweet taste and deepen the exchange.
Far more receptive than he anticipated, she groaned and melted against him when their tongues met. While beyond aroused and hungry for her, desperate to take her, right here, right now, against the wall if he had to, he would not disrespect her like that.
When it happened, and it would happen, he would make her feel things beyond her wildest imagination. He would spread her soft thighs and taste her sweet heat. Then he would spread her legs wider still, sink into her tight sheath and make her his at last.
The longer he kissed her, the more eager he became so he reluctantly ended it before he did something she was not ready for. Not quite yet, anyway. He pulled his lips away, only to find her eyes shut, and her lips rosy from his kisses. He could stare at her forever this way, lost in his arms, within his touch.
Her eyes slowly opened and met his, dewy and sensual, her voice hoarse. “Why did ye do that?”
“Ye know full well why.” His voice was just as husky. “Because I have wanted to do it since that verra eve. To kiss ye as ye should be kissed…to love ye as ye should be loved.”
“But ye didnae,” she whispered. “Ye let me go.” She searched his eyes. “Would ye have done so, had ye known Bróccín knew ye loved me? Would that have made a difference?”
“I wish I could tell ye what ye want to hear, but I dinnae know, lass,” he said. “The man standing in front of ye now wants to reach back in time, take ye and never let go. The lad back then?” He shook his head. “He loved ye something fierce, but he loved his brother too. He saw the hardships he went through with sickness and how he never quite measured up to the other lads. How he always struggled.”
He kept his gaze with hers, praying she understood. “There is little I wouldnae have done to give Bróccín genuine happiness…e
ven if it meant forfeiting the love I felt for ye.”
Rona's misty eyes remained on him for several more moments, her internal struggle obvious. Eventually, she pulled away and sank onto a bench, her gaze lost while she came to terms with his revelation. He sat beside her and waited, hoping she would be able to separate the actions of a lad from a man. Or at least understand the depths of his soft heart, especially when it came to Bróccín.
“Though I have this great anger…” She gripped the edge of the seat and hung her head. “I cannae fault ye for loving yer brother so deeply. For having such compassion for a soul who didnae have it easy…who suffered.” Her eyes drifted to his. “So much compassion that ye would forfeit yer own happiness for it.”
He put his hand over hers, never more grateful to hear those words. To have what was, in a sense, her forgiveness. Because had he allowed his heart to have its way back then and only thought of himself, they might already be wed. Mayhap even have a wee bairn or two.
Rona rested her head against his shoulder and remained silent for a time until she sat upright and stared at the small tapestry hanging across from them. “’Tis still there.”
“Aye.” He looked at the image of MacLomain Castle. “It should be in the great hall to honor our most trusted ally, but ma has always liked it here. She thinks the light coming through the window flatters it and that those who sit here to collect their thoughts will find peace in it.”
“Bróccín agreed.” She stood and eyed it. “He also said the night we kissed that he felt MacLomain Castle suited a lass like me…that it was a place I should always return to one way or another…”
She glanced from him to the tapestry. “Ye dinnae think…”
“I dinnae see how he could fit something back there.” He went to the tapestry. “Though there is some space between the material and the wall…” He trailed off when he peeked behind it. “Bloody hell, Brother!”
A piece of material had been sewn into the back, and a scroll was tucked inside.
“Is there another one, then?” Rona asked.
“Aye.” He pulled it out and handed it to her. “Here ye go, lass.”
She removed the holly, untied it then unrolled the parchment. This time he stood beside her and read as well.
My Dear Friend,
I hope ye have at last been kissed as ye should be. That ye felt the stirrings in yer soul that ye made me feel time and time again. I have only one message left for ye, but ye must go home to find it. Ye must ask Laird Adlin for what should have been yers from the verra beginning…
Yers,
Bróccín
“What was mine from the verra beginning?” She shook her head. “I will have to give that some thought.”
“Did nothing of importance happen there then?” Yet he was starting to suspect something. But could it be? Could his brother have been so presumptuous and forward-thinking on his deathbed? Colmac would have to talk to ma. Something he tried to do after he saw Rona safely back to her chamber but his mother was sleeping.
So he waited until the festivities died down then sat in front of the fire in the great hall to think things over. A lone pipe still trilled somewhere in the castle, and a few people meandered about, but for the most part, it was peaceful.
“Might I join ye, friend?” Stuart handed him a mug of whisky then settled in with a dram of his own. They sat in companionable silence for a stretch before his first-in-command finally spoke, his keen eye sharper than ever.
“’Tis a sad thing to know ye’ve lost so many years together when ‘tis clear ye and Rona share a great love.” Stuart shook his head. “I have seen love before but never so strong as what I witnessed betwixt ye two this eve.” His gaze went to Colmac. “But then I was not around that particular Hogmanay years ago.” His brows drew together. “If ye looked at each other then like ye did tonight, nobody could have mistaken it.”
“Nay,” he murmured, thinking back on what his mother had said about witnessing a great love that eve. Could it be she referred not to Rona and Bróccín but Colmac and the lass? Was that when Bróccín saw it too? Or sooner? More so, did it really matter?
What was done was done.
“Ye arenae going to let her get away again, right?” Stuart’s gaze returned to the fire. “’Twould be verra foolish.”
“She was betrothed to my brother,” he reminded.
But never bedded him, thank the Lord.
“Aye, but she isnae pledged to Bróccín anymore,” Stuart said.
“’Tis ill to marry my brother’s betrothed, is it not?”
“’Tis ill not to marry a lass ye’ve loved all these years,” Stuart counseled. “Not to finally have what ye gave up for the love of yer kin. A lass I believe was yers prior to being Bróccín’s based on the way she looked at ye this eve.”
Hope stirred in his soul, but he kept it from his face. “What would the clan make of it, though?”
“The clan loves her,” Stuart stated bluntly. “They did then and still do.” He met Colmac’s eyes, and his brows swept up. “Not only that, but she’s a MacLomain. A marriage alliance to her would be verra good for us.”
“I wouldnae marry her for an alliance,” he said gruffly, marveling at the mere idea of calling her his wife.
“Nay, that would be but a perk,” Stuart said. “Ye would marry her for the best reason possible, friend. True love.”
Without a shred of doubt, he loved the lass dearly but still, would it be proper? Would she want such? Something he pondered the next morn when he checked in on his mother only to find her still resting. He also wondered about what Rona had told him before she went to sleep last night. Apparently, his ma had mentioned Hogmanay being a final farewell. Rona worried Mórag meant to take her own life, but he’d assured her his mother would never do that.
Nevertheless, he would have her watched closely.
“Ye’ll sit with ma then?” he asked Stuart as a few of his and Rona's men and a handful of Sinclairs readied their horses for travel. “Whilst she seemed good enough with me leaving ‘tis hard to know if her mind was truly present at the time.”
“Aye, I will keep a close eye on Mórag,” Stuart vowed. His gaze went from Rona, astride her horse back to him. “Wishing ye a verra merry Hogmanay’s eve. May ye find great happiness in the New Year and return with a lovely gift indeed.”
“Time will tell.”
Stuart grinned. “That is more than I got out of ye last night.”
Colmac offered nothing more than a small smile then embraced his friend goodbye and joined Rona. “Have ye everything ye need, lass?”
“Aye.” She peered down at him from beneath her hooded cloak, her eyes brighter than usual. “Any word from the scouts ye sent ahead?”
“All is well,” he assured, swinging up behind her.
They were not journeying all that far, so they took fewer horses. That way there would be less for his clansmen to return to the castle once he and his fellow travelers boarded the boat. After that, he knew without a doubt, the MacLomains would be awaiting them on the other side of the loch. They always were. Even if they were not, the walk was not all that far and the land far safer.
“’Twill be close timing beating the storm,” she remarked. “But if all goes well, we should make it.”
“Aye,” he murmured in her ear, inhaling her flowery scent. He wrapped his arms around her and took hold of the reins. “I suspect things will go verra well, lass.”
When she trembled ever-so-slightly, he knew it had nothing to do with the brisk air.
“I dinnae see why ‘tis necessary we share horses,” Brighid muttered. She and Aaron came alongside them on his horse.
“Ye know well why ‘tis best.” Rona grinned at her. “Besides, ye look quite fetching all bundled up in Aaron’s arms, Auntie.” The corner of her mouth shot up. “Especially with yer cheeks all aglow like that.”
“Och, ‘tis cold!” Brighid cozied back against Aaron. He, in turn, appeared just fine with that.
“And what of ye, lassie? I dinnae think I have ever seen ye look so…what is the word I am looking for?” She appeared to mull it over before her devious gaze slid Rona’s way. “Smitten I’d say…downright—”
“Ready to leave,” Rona cut her off, settling back against Colmac. “And looking forward to going home.”
“Aye then.” Colmac gestured at the others, and they set out into the snow covered woodland. “How did ye sleep, lass? I had little chance to speak with ye when we broke our fast.”
“Honestly, ‘twas difficult to rest,” she confided. “Not for lack of comfort, though. Yer bed is quite nice. Thank ye for letting me use it.”
“’Twas no trouble at all.” With any luck, ‘twill soon be yers. But of course, he did not say that. “Like ye, I slept verra little. There was much to think about.”
“Aye,” she agreed softly. “Did ye come to any conclusions?”
“Aye,” he said just as softly, again breathing in her scent. “And ye?”
“I think mayhap I did.”
What were they talking about precisely? Her walking away? Or him getting a second chance? Because he most certainly wanted one in every sense of the word.
“And what conclusions were those?” he asked.
“That I dinnae wish to be angry with ye anymore for things that happened so long ago.” She glanced over her shoulder, pinning him with her lovely eyes. “Things went as they did and I dinnae want anger, bitterness or regret to make decisions for me about my future.”
“I didnae know ye felt so strongly.”
“Back then, I felt verra strongly.” Rona settled against him while they made their way through the trees. “’Twas heartbreaking the way ye turned from me.” She sighed. “What I learned last night was another matter entirely. I dwelled upon it for a time only to realize what ye did back then for yer brother is one of the verra reasons I care so deeply for ye. Ye have always been the least selfish person I know and I cannae fault ye for staying true to that.”
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