He straightened. “Then that is all I can ask, lass.”
Ferra gave Kaiden a quick nod and ducked inside the keep before she could say anything else, forcing the tears aside for now. She had to find a way to protect Kaiden. She had to find a way to keep him from dying. She had just found him, her feelings for him growing steadily by the moment, and she wasn’t about to lose him.
She couldn’t lose him.
Ferra’s steps faltered on the stairs as she realized that she loved Kaiden. It was far more than just caring for him. Somehow along the way, Kaiden had filled her heart, and now her lungs burned with the thought of losing him.
Ferra bit her lip as she continued on up the stairs, but instead of going toward his chambers, she turned toward hers once more. Could he not see that he wasn’t ready for this sort of battle? He was about to become laird, a leader for his clan, and the last thing they needed was to lose him in a battle.
Not only that, but she didn’t want to lose him so soon after they had found each other.
Sighing, Ferra pushed open the door to her chambers, clicking it softly behind her. One thing was for certain. She would stand beside him as he moved to become the laird of his people, but she wouldn’t watch him ride off into battle.
She couldn’t.
13
Kaiden adjusted the strip of tartan over his shoulder, matching the ceremonial kilt he had slid on moments before. His tunic was of fine linen, barely scratching his skin as he slid it over his head. He had his hair tied back in a leather thong, and as Kaiden picked up his sword, the enormity of what was about to happen hit him.
He was about to become laird.
Drawing in a breath, Kaiden strapped his sword to his back for the last time. After this evening, he would have his father’s sword, the laird’s sword, that he would take into battle. The sword had been passed down by generations of McGregors and would be his now that he was going to be laird.
It was hard to believe.
Kaiden smoothed his hands over his face, wishing he could be something more than just who he was. His father was a true laird, a man who was fair and liked by his clan. The only thing that Kaiden knew how to do was be a warrior.
Could he be both? Was he ready to be laird?
It mattered not. His father was going to make him laird whether he was ready or not. Kaiden knew that.
If only his wife could believe that he could be both.
Clearing his throat, Kaiden gave himself one last look in the mirror before walking out of his chambers and toward Ferra’s, his heart hammering in his ears. Ever since their time in the hot spring, she had been avoiding him again, and it was starting to grow old. He wanted his wife in his bed, and after tonight, they would not have separate chambers.
He would be laird, and she would be the lady of the keep. Her place was in his bed.
Kaiden rolled his shoulders to ease some of the tension in them as he arrived at her door, knocking harder than he intended. She opened nearly immediately, and for the first time in his life, Kaiden was struck speechless. Gone was the wife that he had watched tend to her patients or laugh with Erik as he hovered close. Kaiden had watched their friendship form, and he had tried not to let his jealousy cause him to do something stupid, like plant his fist in his second-in-command’s face for smiling at his wife as Erik had. Kaiden knew Erik well enough to know he was just trying to make certain Ferra was comfortable around him, but still...it was hard to swallow that she preferred the warrior’s company over that of her husband’s.
Now, though, he wanted nothing more than to push her back into her room and lock them in for the rest of the evening. Ferra was dressed in a gown of deep blue, the McGregor tartan draped over one shoulder, and his throat worked when he saw his mother’s luckenbooth brooch pinned to it. Her hair was half up, with long curls draped artfully over one shoulder, and her cheeks were flushed with excitement.
She was lovely, far too lovely for the likes of him.
“Wife,” he croaked, unable to form any other words on his tongue.
“Kaiden,” she said softly, touching the brooch on her tartan. “I hope ye dinnae mind. Yer da said it would mean a great deal if I wore it tonight.”
“Nay,” he answered, clearing his throat. “It looks good on ye. Ye’re lovely, Ferra.” He meant every word, wishing he was one of the Scots that could spout words to make her blush deepen.
She gave him a soft smile. “Are ye ready?”
“I dinnae know,” he answered honestly, thinking of his concerns back in his chamber. “I’m not meant tae be a laird. I only know how tae be a warrior, lass.”
She reached up and straightened his tartan before laying a hand on it. It was then that Kaiden realized she wasn’t wearing a band signifying her marriage to him, and it bothered Kaiden. He would have to rectify that shortly.
“Ye’re a laird,” she said, unbeknownst to his thoughts. “Ye’re a great warrior that wants good for his clan. Ye are fair, and yer clan trusts that ye will make the right decisions. Those are the qualities in a laird, Kaiden, and ye have every single one of them.”
Her words robbed him of his breath, and Kaiden swallowed the emotion that threatened. He didn’t deserve her words.
