“We arenae talking aboot me, Catherine.” Andrew closed his eyes and turned his head away to compose himself.
“But ma point is, neither ye nor I nor Rab can decide what our clans do. That’s yer father’s and his father’s roles. However, we can be a voice. The voice that reminds our lairds of what we risk losing if we continue this. And we can have the marriage that forms an alliance, which is what ye intended with any clan ye married me off to.”
“But—”
“But what, Óg? His clan killed members of ours? Of our family? We ken. We all bluidy well ken. But we’ve killed members of his clan, his family during raids and battle. Truly, what more do ye want of him? What more does he have to do to prove that he’s nae evil and that he has purged the evil from his clan?”
“I dinna ken, Catherine!” Andrew took a step back. “Ye didna see them. I did. I saw ma mother and ma sisters. I watched what those beasts did to them. I canna get past that, and neither can Da. Why would ye ask us to?”
“Because it’s what’s good for the clan. We canna keep this going. We’ve already lost too much.” Catherine wrapped her arms around her cousin’s waist, but his arms hung to his sides. She refused to let go and rested her head against his chest. “I love Rab, and he loves me. We want a life together for our own reasons, and we ken that’s selfish. But neither of our clans can endure much more before it rips us apart from the inside. The MacLarens dinna want to continue the feud.”
“They had a fine way of showing it,” Andrew snarled as he pushed Catherine away, turning from her.
“And those fucking bastards died for what they did. I ken, Óg. I ken what happened to them.”
Andrew whirled around, staring over Catherine’s head at Rab. He shifted his gaze to Catherine as Rab approached.
“I didna want to tell her,” Rab confessed. “But I dinna keep secrets from ma wife. From Kitty. Ye ken why I didna want her to find out, to learn what I’m capable of. One day, Kitty will be Lady MacLaren. She canna serve her new clan if she doesnae ken what’s happened.”
“Lady MacLaren,” Andrew snorted. Catherine shifted to block Rab and Andrew from lunging at one another.
“Enough, Óg,” Catherine snapped. “Go home. Tell Mòr whatever ye must.”
“Ye think I’m leaving ye with them?” Andrew’s disgust dripped from each word, the vehemence taking everyone aback. The MacLaren guards continued to eye the MacFarlanes, but hands inched closer to dirk handles.
“Pride goeth before the fall, Óg.” Catherine reminded Andrew of the Bible verse he least liked since she’d taunted him with it since they were children. “This hasnae been aboot ma safety or ma happiness. This is aboot yer pride. Ye dinna want to tell Mòr that ye’ve failed him again. Ye dinna want people to ken that ye couldnae control me. Ye dinna want to admit that mayhap ye, Mòr, and Caelan have all been wrong to keep this going. I’m fed up to ma eyeteeth of saying that. It’s all aboot what ye dinna want. Ye ken as well as anyone who has ever seen Rab with me, he willneverlet anyone hurt me. Anyone who tries doesnae live to tell the tale. We are going in circles, and I’m through. Ride with us if ye wish. Go to Inveruglas if ye wish. Go back to court. Go wherever, but I’m going to ma new home.”
Catherine left Rab and Andrew staring at one another. Neither expected, though it surprised neither, when Catherine mounted Timber and spurred her into a gallop. The men from both clans scrambled to mount and gave chase, ignoring the Buchanans who were left for dead. Catherine knew Timber could never outpace the men’s warhorses, so she didn’t try. She settled into a canter once Rab rode to her right and Andrew rode to her left. She looked at neither of them.
In tacit agreement that the MacFarlanes now escorted Catherine to Edinample, the day passed with barely a word from anyone. The MacFarlanes and MacLarens were all trained warriors and guards, knowing how to ride in formation to always keep Catherine protected. When they made camp for the night, each clan hunted for themselves and picked sides of the fire. They set up their own watches, as though they weren’t traveling as one group. Catherine leaned heavily against Rab while they ate the roasted rabbit he caught.
“This canna go on,” Catherine whispered.
“I ken. I’ll speak to ma men in the morning. We’ll be to our border within an hour of setting off. I recognize the land we passed through today. The Grahams spied us but left us alone.”
“How do ye always ken whether or nae a clan’s patrol has seen us?”
“Because I see them.” Rab shrugged. “Often they’re merely specks in the distance that I can tell are mon and horse. Other times, I notice markings on trees and rocks that tell me when we’ve crossed territories or patrol camps. Men riding the borders keep those places in sight. If they dinna approach us, then they dinna have a problem with us being there.”
“I ken ye canna be at ma side at all times and ye canna control other people, but ye ken that I never exaggerate how safe I feel with ye, dinna ye?”
“I do. I canna fault Óg for how he feels. If the situation were reversed, I’d feel the same. Time. That’s all that we can pray we have. Time for them to see reason.”
“What do ye think yer mother will do?”
“After she nearly squeezes the life from ye and nearly drowns ye in kisses? Order ye more food than ye can eat in a month and all the hot water a tub can hold.” Rab grinned as he brushed a quick kiss to Catherine’s lips. “Ma father listens to ma mother. Hopefully, she can discuss this with him before he sees Mòr, or anyone has aught to say.”
“I shall accept yer mother’s welcome, especially if it includes that hot bath.” Catherine twisted to whisper in Rab’s ear. “But only if ye’re the one scrubbing ma back.”
“Ye shall discover I will make a fine lady’s maid,mo chridhe.” Rab playfully hooked his fingers beneath her kirtle’s laces and tugged. When Catherine failed to stifle another yawn, he urged her to lean against him as he covered them with his spare plaid. It wasn’t long before Catherine’s eyes drooped, and her breathing deepened. Rab slipped from beside her. He and Andrew stepped away from the circle. “Have at it, then.”
Andrew didn’t hesitate. He plowed his fist into Rab’s cheek with such force that Rab stumbled back four steps. Men stepped forward, but Andrew and Rab waved them away. Rab only blocked blows that would break his nose and jaw, or swell his eyes shut. He accepted punches to his belly and ribs. Andrew landed one on his right temple that made his head ring and bright pinpricks of light danced before his closed eyes. Rab knew allowing Andrew to vent his sorrow and anger could never make up for losing his family members, missing Catherine’s wedding, or her marrying Rab. But he could let the man have his chance to defend his family’s honor, and Rab preferred Andrew unleash his emotions on him than Catherine.
“Fight, damn it,” Andrew growled.
“I’m nae going to strike ye, Óg. Ye havenae done aught to deserve it.”
Andrew drew back, his eyes narrowed. “What kind of mon lets another attack him without fighting him off?”
