Gabriel broke the silence first, turning away from the window to face Jacob. “What the hell were ye thinking?”
—Not what Jacob was expecting. It was so blunt, so unadorned, that Jacob barked out a short, incredulous laugh before he could stop himself.
At once, he raised a hand. “Forgive me,” he said quickly, the smile already fading under his father’s look. “I only—” He gestured vaguely toward Gabriel’s face. “Ye had that expression. I thought something... wiser was coming. Some sage bit of wisdom.”
Meggie made a soft noise—something between a sigh and a small, disbelieving laugh.
Gabriel’s brows drew together dramatically. Whatever indulgence might have existed vanished at once.
Jacob’s amusement died on the spot. He straightened, the echo of his laughter still hanging awkwardly in the air, and added more soberly, “I ken ye were meaning to lecture me—since obviously I wasna thinking at the time.”
That earned him no reprieve.
“Ye bluidykissedElena—betrothed to thesonof the manor—underhisbluidy roof!” Gabriel hissed, mindful that the walls had ears.
“Gabriel, please,” she said firmly. “Jacob doesn’t actually need a lecture. He knows well enough how grievous was his error.”
Jacob nodded, though the gesture felt absent. In truth, half of him was still in the sheltered lee along the wall with Elena. The kiss itself remained frustratingly unresolved in his mind, a thing he had not yet been allowed to turn over and examine. He saw it in flashes, the force of her mouth against his, the breath it had stolen from her, his fingers digging into her hips. It angered him, in a way that he understood was selfish but was at the same time unavoidable, that the world had intervened before he could examine it fully, before he’d even had a chance to revel in it.
“Or, how poor was his timing,” his mother added softly, intended not as a rebuke but as commiseration. “Mayhap several years ago would have avoided all this nonsense.”
Against all expectation, Gabriel’s scowl actually deepened further. “What the bluidy hell does that mean?”
Meggie ignored her husband and leaned forward slightly, her eyes warm. “Jacob,” she said, “your father and I are not angry with you. Truly. But we are... concerned. This alliance means something to the MacTavishes—to all of us. We came here to strengthen ties with the families of the Lowlands, easing internal tensions while the kingdom tries to hold fast to its fragile peace.”
“I ken that well enough, Mam,” Jacob said. “I understand the implications, the difficulty I’ve caused.” He hesitated, thenshrugged, the gesture stiff with frustration. “I just dinna... I couldnae—” He broke off, knowing there was no defense worth offering for what he had allowed himself to do.
“You could not help yourself,” Meggie guessed quietly, her head tilting with sympathy.
Jacob shifted, unsettled by how easily she had named it. He shook his head, unwilling to claim it as excuse, yet he did not deny that she was right.
“Elena is Liam’s only daughter,” Gabriel started anew. “Her choices reflect on him. As yer actions reflect on us.”
Jacob nodded again, though this time with more weight. He was truly remorseful for the trouble he’d caused to Liam MacTavish, even as he wasn’t sorry at all that it revealed a side of Thomas Hamilton that he had to believe Liam was happy to discover now rather than later. He listened as his father settled fully into the lecture, words coming now in a steady, familiar stream. It was not anger so much as disappointment threaded with concern, the sort of rambling admonition Gabriel had delivered on many occasions to any one of his three sons. Jacob let it wash over him, absorbing what he could, enduring the rest, knowing this was his due. He had earned every word of it, and so he stood there in silence, jaw set, nodding when appropriate.
Gabriel ran a hand over his jaw, his sermon having run its course. “Jacob,” he said, more softly now, “ye have always been steady. Ye measure your steps, weigh consequences, consider others before yourself. That part of ye is one I am proudest of. So when I see ye act without thought—without caution—it tells me something else was at work.”
Knowing he was expected to say something here, that a noncommittal shrug wouldn’t suffice, Jacob said only, “I couldnae help myself, Da.”
Gabriel sighed and laid his hands on his hips, studying his son. “Jesu, Jacob, do yecarefor Elena?”
His mother rolled her eyes and rose to her feet—she’d been forced to endure the lecture as much as Jacob. “Very good of you to catch up, love,” she said, holding Jacob’s gaze though the remark was meant for her husband.
“How—when did this happen?” Gabriel wondered gruffly.
“Years ago, Gabriel,” Meggie informed him. “And at this very moment, Liam MacTavish is probably learning a few things he didn’t know either.” She touched Jacob’s arm. “You do not need to justify your heart to us,” she said softly. “But you do need to understand the consequences it may bring—to yourself, to Elena, to her family. This moment will follow all of us for some time.”
Jacob swallowed hard. “Yes, Mam.”
“When did it start?” Gabriel wanted to know.
Meggie ignored him and squeezed Jacob’s arm, the corners of her eyes softening with pride and worry. “You must conduct yourself with care, Jacob,” she said, “for Elena’s sake as much as your own. Impulses have their place in passion, but not in politics.”
He nodded dutifully again.
“It will sort itself out,” she predicted airily, turning away, patting the cheek of her husband, who was still in the process of catching up.
“Am I the only one who dinna ken this?”
