Alan nodded and turned to leave. He paused at the door after lifting the latch and Brodie thought he’d speak more, but he did not. He listened to Alan’s footsteps leading away from the chamber and down the stairs with a heaviness in his heart.
One way or another, the young man who left here today would not be the same one on his return to Glenlui after his search.
* * *
Saraid looked up from the chair near the hearth to find him there at the door. He had made no sound, so she had no idea for how long he’d been there, just watching her sew. Clara, Jamie and the children had gone to visit their cousins for the day and so Saraid had taken advantage of the quiet and solitude. The door was ajar to let in the unseasonably warm breeze as she worked.
Clara had known something was not right since Alan brought her back here the other afternoon, but Saraid could not find the words to explain the situation and the problem. How could she tell her cousin that she despised herself for the story they’d made up to protect her? How could she say that she wanted nothing more than to remain here and be with him?
How could Saraid stay and live the lie while knowing the wrongness of it? Nay, the growing feelings she had for Alan forbade her from putting him in the centre of something he had little to do with or little say over.
She’d wanted to lie with him in the forest that day. Saraid wanted to give herself to him and take with her the memory of such a time in the arms of a man she loved. But, at the last, as he pleasured her in his embrace and in intimate ways she’d never dreamt of, she could not. He thought it was because of a dead husband when it was simply the conscience within her finally speaking.
‘May I speak with you?’ he asked when she did not greet him.
Saraid stood and nodded, inviting him to the table in the centre of the room.
‘Walk with me?’ he asked. ‘To the bench?’
She followed him outside and around the cottage to Jamie’s work area. The bench gave them some privacy, but was in plain sight of anyone walking the lane there. He stepped aside and waited for her to sit. Clenching her hands together, she knew she must say something about her behaviour.
‘I would ask your pardon for the other day,’ she said softly, not able to meet his gaze as she spoke. ‘I did a terrible thing and you did not deserve such a thing.’
He frowned, his brows gathering close, and his eyes darkened as he studied her. ‘A terrible thing?’
‘Aye.’ She nodded, watching some leaves moving around near her feet in the breezes. ‘I...led you to believe that...I...led you on...’ His hand, gently lifting her chin, stopped her words and forced her to look up at him.
‘Do not lie to me, Saraid,’ he whispered. ‘Just answer me this—did you want to lie with me?’ She hesitated for several long moments before replying.
‘Aye.’
‘You wanted me to make love to you, did you not?’ he asked. Not letting her look away, he continued. ‘You wanted me and offered yourself to me in that way.’ He sat at her side then, leaning down towards her. ‘Then why did you stop?’
She wanted to deny his words and to protest his declaration, but she could not make her sins even worse by doing that now. She had kept the lies alive and added to them that day. Now, the weight of all of them pressed down on her and she wanted nothing more than to scream out the truth.
She loved him.
She wanted him.
She wanted to stay with him.
Letting out a sigh, she reached out and caressed his cheek before adding more lies to her ever-growing pile. The strange thing was that her answer to this was not a falsehood at all. She could never be with him.
‘Fear. Fear stopped me.’
He cupped her hand against him and tilted his head to gaze into her eyes then. ‘Tell me what you fear, Saraid. Tell me how I can rid you of it.’
‘There is nothing to be done, Alan. I cannot remain here. I cannot be with you.’
Alan stood then and pulled free of her touch. It was better to have some distance between them for it made it less likely that she would fall into his embrace and give in to the longing she felt for him. Still, she mourned it.
‘I think I began falling in love with you that first time I saw you in the hall. Standing with Clara and speaking to Jamie and the others. I sensed a kindred soul within you even then and have found so many things about us that make us companionable.’ He paused then and stared at her. ‘Tell me, I pray you, why you must leave behind any chance for us? Tell me what you fear, what haunts you so that you must flee to a convent.’
How easy it would be to pour out her story to him now. To tell him that she’d felt the same magical connection to him even in those first moments. To beg him to make this all right for them. But her mother’s words echoed in her thoughts, her heart and soul then.
Loyalty. Honour. Courage.
The first two were about him—he was honourable and loyal and he would be forced to turn her over to his uncle if he knew her identity. The third was for her—she must have the courage to stay with the plan her mother had begun to save her from exactly that.
