“I asked Eoin here under false pretenses,” Cairstine admitted. “I was desperate to avoid a betrothal to any mon. Eoin’s known what happened from nearly the beginning. He was my silent strength while I was at Dundee Priory, and I developed a fondness for him, so when the abbey was no longer an option I asked him to pose as my betrothed long enough for Fenella to marry. I hoped that once Fenny was married, I could either remain here as a spinster or take the veil somewhere else. When I finally arrived back here, and you mentioned Andrew Gordon as a prospective suitor, I knew it was impossible even though he was the best candidate. I knew Andrew was a mon I could share my secret with and not fear reprisal, but I was already falling in love with his son.”
Cairstine turned to smile at Eoin, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She rested her head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart soothing her. She placed her hand over his heart and was certain theirs beat in unison. Eoin kissed the top of her head.
“Do you want me to tell the rest?” He whispered. When Cairstine nodded, Eoin looked at her family. “I was falling in love with Cairstine too, but we believed we couldn’t agree on what we wanted for our futures. I wanted a wife with whom I could build a family, and I knew Cairstine might never have been able to do that. I knew her fear. But before we parted outside your gates, I promised that if she ever needed aught, she should ask and I would come. So when she sent me a missive explaining you were interested in marrying her to my father and asking me to help her, I couldn’t say nay. When I arrived, and you were aboot to reject my suit, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. That’s when I said we handfasted.”
Eoin’s eyes darted to Fenella, who’d bent the truth that day in the solar, and he worried about how her parents would react. “Neither Bram nor Fenella spoke an untruth, they just weren’t close enough to hear what we really talked aboot. Once everyone thought we handfasted, we needed to keep pretending. But it didn’t take long for it to start becoming real. We did handfast, just not when you thought we had. I love Cairstine, and I will love her and protect her till my last breath. I will still love her when we meet again in the eternal kingdom. She’s everything to me.”
“We’ve known all along that something wasn’t true aboot your claim to have handfasted. But as we watched you together, your father and I knew before either of you did that you loved one another. It was obvious to even a blind mon,” Davina smiled.
“We knew time would make it all work out, so we didn’t ask for an explanation,” Edward explained. The five of them stood together silently as they each considered what they had said. Cairstine felt like the weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders, and the last of her shame and regret slipped away. She was exhausted before the conversation with her family, but now she could barely keep her eyes open. Davina and Edward noticed that the last of her energy was flagging, so they motioned to Fenella for them to leave. As the three turned toward the door, Fenella stopped.
“Do you mean that we could have had our double wedding all along?” Fenella demanded. “Just like we’d talked aboot when we were weans?”
Cairstine laughed, “I suppose we could have.”
“I’m very put out by you, sister. I think your crimson gown is the only thing that will make me feel better. Oh, and the slippers that match. Those will make it all better.” Fenella giggled as she hugged Cairstine.
“I’m not giving you aught from my wardrobe. You are a Campbell now, so Kinnon can clothe you.” Cairstine tickled her sister’s ribs. The women kissed each other on the cheek before the Grants retired and left Eoin and Cairstine alone. Eoin helped Cairstine into bed, but she sat up and huffed. She wriggled and pulled the chemise over her head before tossing it to the foot of the bed. “There’s no reason for that.”
Eoin chuckled as they snuggled together. Cairstine was too worn out for either of them to initiate lovemaking, but they drifted off to the feel of their bodies touching.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Dawn arrived far too soon for Eoin’s liking. Cairstine stirred beside him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. They’d woken twice during the night, their need for one another and the solace they found together too powerful to ignore. Eoin and Cairstine sat up as the predawn sky lightened, neither looking forward to the fight that was coming.
“Cairrie, stay here and sleep. You must still be fatigued,” Eoin offered.
“You’ve become a bluidy bampot if you think I will laze around in bed while you’re fighting to the death. Hardly.” Cairstine crawled to the end of the bed and pulled on the chemise she discarded the night before. She squeaked when Eoin lifted her onto his lap.
“Cairrie, I don’t want you to watch me kill a mon, and I definitely don’t want you to see me die if I lose,” Eoin reasoned.
“Since you won’t lose, we need not worry aboot that part. As for you killing a mon, will this be the first time you’ve done it?” She knew the answer but waited for Eoin to shake his head. “Do you think it’ll be the last time?” Eoin shook his head once again. “You’re a Highlander, and while it’s unfortunate, it is part of our way of life to fight to defend what’s ours. I’m not eager to watch you risk your life, but I can’t not go, Eo. If something happened, and I wasn’t with you—I couldn’t live with not being able to say goodbye.”
“That side of me, the violent side, isn’t how I want you to think of me. When we had the run-in with the Forbes, it was dark, and you didn’t have to see me cut a mon down with my blade. I want to keep that part separate from you.”
“Mo ghràidh, you’re the mon you are because you’re a warrior. I love that part of you as much as I do the part that you only show me, the tender side. Eoin, please don’t make me stay here.” Eoin saw the plea in her eyes as much as he heard it in her voice. He wasn’t pleased knowing she would witness the battle, but he knew she would sneak out regardless of what he said, and he understood what went unspoken: she needed to see this come to an end.
“Mo chridhe, I may love you too much because I doubt I will ever be able to refuse you aught. I relent. But you must remain with Ewan and Bram. If you won’t do that, then I will lock you in here and throw away the key.”
“I promise.”
* * *
The sun rose behind the muted pink and purple hues as lairds and guardsmen from every clan represented gathered in the lists. Cairstine noticed the Sinclair wives were present with husbands who looked none too pleased as they wrapped protective arms around their wives various-sized swollen bellies. Ric and Isabella seemed to be disagreeing until Isa crossed her arms and rested them on her own belly. Ric threw up his hands and shook his head before they took a spot next to the Sinclairs. Maude accompanied Kieran, while her sister Blair stood between Hamish and Lachlan. Allyson stood with Ewan, and Cairstine stood between Ewan and Andrew. Her father stood in the center of the ring where Eoin and Arlan would fight. He was announcing the rules as the combatants sized up one another. Cairstine had already wished Eoin good luck with a breath-stealing kiss in their chambers. Fenella and Davina remained within the keep, their duties to oversee the meals taking precedence over the duel about to take place within the bailey walls.
Cairstine held her hands clasped together, reciting as much of the rosary as she could remember while worrying about Eoin. When Edward stepped back, Arlan lunged forward even before Edward officially signaled the beginning of the challenge. Eoin easily sidestepped Arlan’s first attack, then the next and the one after that. Eoin led Arlan around the circle, deflecting strikes or simply moving aside. Eoin intended to let Arlan wear himself out by keeping him on the offensive while Eoin antagonized him by not engaging. He would use Arlan’s arrogance and eventual fatigue to his advantage. When Arlan’s energy flagged, Eoin would launch his attack.
He drowned out the sound of insults being lobbed at him and his opponent. He ignored the cheers from the Gunns and Mackenzies. He’d seen Cairstine’s lips moving earlier and knew she’d been praying, but she stood silent with her eyes wide. He remained aware of her at all times, not trusting the single combat not to deteriorate into a brawl like the night before. He knew that Bram had organized the Grant guardsmen to form a wide column behind his family in case it became too dangerous and Ewan and Andrew needed a clear path to get the women inside.
“Be a mon, Gordon,” Farlane Gunn called out. “Stop dancing like a lass and fight.”
Eoin swiped his sword across Arlan’s arm, and crimson flooded the sleeve of the arm that would usually carry a targe. Both men fought only with swords, but it was no secret that they carried dirks strapped to various parts of them. “You mean like that?”
If the challenge had been to first blood, Eoin would have already won, but he wasn’t satisfied with allowing Arlan to live. He’d been the reason for Cairstine’s terror for six years, and Eoin was certain Cairstine wasn’t the only woman Arlan had attacked. He wasn’t the type of man who settled for just once or twice. Arlan was a predator, and Eoin intended to put him down. Both men crouched as they held their swords before them, but when Arlan made to swing wide, Eoin stepped forward and drove his fist into Arlan’s already broken nose. Blood sprayed from it, splattering its owner and everyone nearby. Eoin leaped back before Arlan brought his sword down, but the force of his own movement made Arlan stagger. Eoin was certain the man saw stars, and he waved three fingers before Arlan.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Eoin taunted. Arlan shook his head as he tried to focus on Eoin’s hand. Eoin laughed as he lowered his first and third fingers. “There’s only one you need to count.”
The crowd howled, and Cairstine blushed. She understood what Eoin was doing, but she wasn’t used to this crass side of him. She reminded herself that she was the one who begged to watch, which meant she also had to listen. Arlan continued to stagger and struggled to lift his sword. He looked ready to collapse, which would make it easier for Eoin to skewer him or cut his throat. It was obvious to everyone, and Farlane Gunn was furious. While the accepted rules required every man to leave his sword in his tent or chamber, those same rules permitted Farlane and Ewan to keep theirs as they served as seconds to replace an impaired–but not dead–combatant.
