Every bite of roasted venison and sip of tea felt distant as her mind replayed the past weeks at Castle McGibb. Her hands clutched her fork a little tighter, her heart beating in rhythms of longing she could not confess.
Around her, the clan celebrated the safety and warmth of her return home, unaware of the hidden ache within her.
Maisie lifted her eyes to Lavina again, catching her sister's bright joy, and in that glow felt both the warmth of family and the unbearable weight of her own private heartbreak.
The night stretched on, full of music, laughter, and stories from the hall. She ate, she smiled, she drank from her goblet of wine, but her heart ached for what she could never claim.
The secret of that stolen passion, the hidden fire between them, sat heavy on her chest like a stone. And though she sat among kin and comfort, her soul yearned for a man she could never hold, tears threatening behind her carefully composed smile.
A moment later, a young clan man approached Maisie with a polite bow, his eyes bright with anticipation.
"Lady Maisie, would ye honor me with a dance?" he asked, his voice full of courteous eagerness.
Maisie smiled faintly, feeling the weight of her private thoughts pressing on her. "I thank ye kindly, but I have a headache and think I should return to me bedchamber," she said softly.
Lavina, sitting beside her, placed a gentle hand on Maisie's arm. "Aye, he understands, sister. Ye are nae well tonight, but perhaps another time ye can dance," she whispered reassuringly.
Maisie nodded, grateful for her sister's support and the way she shielded her from awkward scrutiny. The young man returned her nod with a polite smile, stepping back and allowing her the space she desired.
Maisie exhaled quietly, feeling a small relief wash over her.
She whispered, "Thank ye, Lavina," her voice carrying a hint of gratitude beneath the strain of her heart.
Lavina smiled warmly, her eyes filled with understanding and care for her sister. Maisie felt the pull of exhaustion mingled with longing, realizing she needed the solitude of her chambers more than the cheerful distractions of the great hall.
Rising from her seat, Maisie curtsied lightly to her sister and the nearby clan members. She moved toward the exit with measured steps, careful to keep her composure despite the ache in her chest. The hall continued around her, filled with laughter, clinking goblets, and the soft murmur of conversation.
Finally, she reached the quiet of the corridor and allowed herself a moment of respite before retiring to her room, the warmth and safety of her bedchamber offering a brief solace from the turmoil of her thoughts but not her tears.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
"Caiden, where's Maisie?" Norah asked softly. "I havenae seen her in a while, and the bairns miss her," she added, glancing at Arran and Hugh playing nearby.
Caiden's hands froze mid-task, his eyes darkening as he replied with a strained voice.
"I let her go," he said, each word clipped and heavy.
Norah nodded slowly, absorbing his answer without pressing further. There was a tense silence, broken only by the distant laughter of the children.
"Why?" Norah asked gently. "It's clear ye care for her," she added, her gaze steady on his face.
Caiden scoffed, a bitter edge to his tone as he leaned back against the table. "Ye ken better than anyone, Norah, how cruel I and me family can be," he said, the words tasting like ash.
Norah's eyes softened with understanding, though her voice held a hint of sadness. "Aye, ye're a stern master, Caiden, and so is yer family," she admitted quietly. "But I've seen ye with those ye care for, and ye are never cruel to them," she continued, her tone even but firm. Her words lingered in the air, a reminder of the man he could be when he allowed himself to care.
She took a small step closer, her gaze unwavering as she pressed her point. "Think on this, Caiden. Do ye truly want to lose her?" she asked, her voice gentle but insistent. "Maisie is a fine lass, beautiful and clever, and soon enough she will have someone seekin' her hand in marriage," she added, her words a quiet warning.
Caiden's chest tightened, his jaw clenching with a possessive fire he could neither hide nor control.
"Especially after ye took her. Her folk might think it wise she go under the protection of a husband to save her honor," she continued.
His fingers curled into fists at his sides, the air around him seeming to thrum with a dangerous energy.
"Damn ye, Norah!" he growled, his voice low and fierce. A dark heat rose within him, a mixture of anger and unacknowledged desire that made his pulse quicken.
Without another word, he turned sharply and stormed away, leaving Norah standing quietly, the echo of his fury following him.
The sound of his boots pounding against the stone floors mirrored the turmoil roiling inside him. Every step carried a bitter possessiveness, a fear that he had lost something he could never replace. His mind raced with images of Maisie, the warmth of her presence, the defiance in her eyes. He reminded himself again and again that letting her go was for the best, yet a part of him seethed at the thought of her with another.
