At this point, she drew herself up to her full height and lifted her chin in that proud way she had. “To undertake such a dangerous quest and risk his life for his brother, such single-mindedness against all odds is, in my eyes, a noble cause indeed. And as I got to know Bane better and learned I could trust him with my life, I came to admire him for what he was doing and wished to help him get Tav back.”
As she went on, relating the final stages of their journey back to Ferniehurst, Bane covertly watched her father. The laird had been listening intently the whole time, although his hard expression remained frustratingly unreadable. “I do not have to tell you the last part of the story and the circumstances that brought us here before you, Father. And before you make any judgement on Bane, I must make you understand how glad I am for what happened to me, however badly things may have started out between him and me.
“I will always to be grateful to him for showing me that I am far stronger than I ever believed myself to be. He taught me how to survive in the wider world, how cruel it can be for many people who have little, and how sheltered and privileged my life has been up to now. These things to me are riches I do not think I could have gained in any other way, and I shall always treasure them.” Casting another loving look at him, she went to stand with Agnes.
Bane hung his head to hide the emotions he was afraid must be showing on his face. He felt like crying with love and gratitude for what she was trying to do for him. He felt totally unworthy of such selfless devotion. Weak and battered as he was, the urge was almost overpowering to go to her and, in front of everybody, sweep her into his arms, kiss her, and tell her how thankful he was for the way she had broken him open, brought him to life, showed him he was capable of loving truly and deeply.
He wanted her to know that whatever happened, his love for her would endure across time, even if death should separate them.
But he remained on his knees in front of her father. For, however eloquent her defence of him had been, he could not let himself believe for a moment that her efforts would sway a man like her father and save him from the harsh punishment that was surely coming his way at any moment.
A brief silence fell over the room following the end of her speech as everyone absorbed what they had heard. After a few moments, her father broke it by saying, “That’s all very interestin’, Constance. But the fact is, this man has committed a heinous crime in abducting ye, a crime that deserves a harsh punishment.”
Here it comes, Bane thought, steeling himself for the pronouncement. But it did not come, not yet at any rate. Instead, the laird unexpectedly launched into a narrative of his own.
“For a start, this whole noble mission ye describe tae “rescue” his braither was based on a misconception. He’s led ye halfway across the country, risking serious harm tae ye, and even the possibility of yer death, on an assumption that was completely wrong. I’ll tell ye why. Three months ago, me and a party of me men were out huntin’ and happened across a rival laird, James Armstrong, and some of his soldiers on me land.
“Now, Armstrong is nae a good man. He’s one of me most troublesome enemies, with a bad reputation hereabouts fer cruelty. There was a fierce fight goin’ on among them, and it appeared tae me at first sight that he and his men were tryin’ tae abduct a man, who I only later found out was Tav. All I saw was a man badly outnumbered bravely attemptin’ tae fight his way out of bein’ captured. I had the chance tae witness firsthand Tav’s superior skills in a fight.
“I was impressed and thought I could use a good fighter like him, so I intervened. There was a skirmish, and in the end, we overcame Armstrong and his men and freed Tav. I wasnae about tae just let him walk away. There was a particular mission I was plannin’ which he was perfect fer, and I was determined tae have him in me service. So, I told him the rescue came with a price. He had a choice, either agree there and then tae work fer me, or spend some time in me dungeons thinkin’ about it until he gave in. He chose the first option. Is that nae right, Tav?”
“Aye, that’s right, m’laird,” Tav replied heavily. “I was in yer debt all right and didnae fancy bein’ locked up.” He looked Bane and shrugged helplessly. “Ye havetae understand, Braither, I felt I had nay choice but tae swear an oath tae help the laird out with his mission. And I’ve been workin’ fer him ever since.”
Bane’s sense of betrayal cut deep as the truth sank in. “Ye can work fer who ye chose, ye fool,” he said through gritted, “but ye chose nae tae send word tae me or Fia and let us worry about ye.”
His elder brother’s usually composed demeanour faltered. His cheekbones flushed red, and he appeared to be struggling with a tide of conflicting emotions. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry, Bane. ’Tis hard tae explain me reasons.”
“Try,” Bane told him harshly.
Tav sighed and nodded. “All right. I’ll try tae explain. I was ashamed tae tell ye the truth about some of the things I’d done while I was away. Bane, I did things that would make even a mercenary blush with shame. I hated mesel’ fer the man I’d become, and I still dae. I didnae write because I felt ye and Fia were better off without me. I thought I had nay right tae just come home and pretend I was still the same old Tav,” he finished, hanging his head miserably and avoiding Bane’s eyes.
“Ye call that an explanation? We wouldnae have cared about any of that. All ye needed tae dae was send word ye were all right. Christ, we didnae even ken if ye were alive or dead! We were worried sick!” Bane responded furiously. “Ye ken how I’ve always looked up tae ye, respected ye. And Fia’s cried a river of tears over ye since ye’ve been gone. Ye should have seen how upset she was when ye were nae at her weddin’.” He shook his head and added bitterly, “I dinnae think I’ll ever be able tae trust ye again after this.”
Tav rubbed his hands over his face and head in obvious despair as he looked at his brother. “Look, I ken ye’ve always seen me as some sort of hero, Bane,” he burst out emotionally, “but I never was one and never will be either. I couldnae bear the thought of comin’ back home and facin’ ye and Fia when I kenned I was nay longer worthy of yer respect or yer love.”
Bane felt as though his heart was being apart. He wanted to scream and yell and punch his brother. But beneath all that lay a profound sense of loss, a sorrow so deep, he thought it would never leave him. He stared at Tav, unable to recognize his brother.
“Ach, it would have been better if ye’d died than havin’ tae look at ye and listen tae yer cowardly excuses. Ye’re right, ye have changed. The braither I remember would never have acted like such a yellow-bellied craven.”
No longer able to look at his brother, he glanced at Constance, wondering what she must be making of all this, knowing as she did how much Tav meant to him. Her expression of loving anguish when their eyes met said it all. Instantly, he knew she understood his pain, and he was grateful for it. But even that could not take it away. With no more to say to Tav, he lapsed into a despondent silence.
“Well, now that’s sorted out, we can get back tae the matter in hand,” the laird declared ominously a few moments later, fixing his steely gaze on Bane once more. He addressed him directly for the first time. “Even ye must realize that the calibre of yer crime in abductin’ me daughter means ye must face an appropriately harsh punishment.”
“Aye, go on and dae yer worst,” Bane muttered fatalistically. He looked at Constance, holding her gaze intently.
I was lucky tae meet her at all, and I love her with all me heart and soul. I cannae really regret abductin’ her, whatever punishment I must face for it.
Just as he expected to hear the worst, to his utter shock, she stepped forward again and addressed her father directly, in a tone that was startlingly fierce and unyielding. “Father, Bane does not deserve to be punished. I refuse to let you or anyone else harm him in any way. If you insist on casting him out or punishing him, then I shall leave with him or receive the same punishment. Nothing you can say will persuade me to change my mind.” She lifted her chin, resolute, defiant. Her incredible loyalty warmed Bane’s wounded heart, and a quick glance around the room told him that everyone else was taken aback by her courage as well.
He looked to the laird, intrigued despite himself, to see the man’s reaction. He appeared to be studying his new-found daughter closely, his expression inscrutable. But Bane thought he saw a flicker in the older man’s eyes that closely resembled admiration, as if Constance’s defiant stance had stirred something within him too. But when he looked at Tav, he was mystified to see a tense exchange of rapid glances pass between his brother and Agnes. What the hell’s goin’ on there? he wondered.
After a silence that seemed to stretch into infinity, the laird finally exhaled slowly and spoke. “Very well, Constance, ye obviously have very strong feelin’s on the matter. I agree nae tae punish him, fer yer sake alone. But I willnae have him in me home or anywhere near ye or Agnes. If he’s gonnae stay around, then he can sleep in the stables.”
Bane could hardly believe his ears. A combination of disbelief and relief coursed through him at being let off so lightly. But before he could open his mouth to thank her father, Constance began to argue with him. “But, Father, I in—” she began feistily, her small fists clenching at her sides.
Bane, aware he was lucky to be treated so leniently, hurried to intercede before things went too far and the laird changed his mind. “Haud yer wheesht, Constance,” he told her firmly. She stared at him, but she shut her mouth. Bane looked at her father and said with genuine respect for the man, “Thank ye kindly, m’laird. I accept yer judgement, and I’m grateful for yer mercy.”
“Aye, all right, then,” the laird replied with a curt nod. “Understand, I’m only bein’ so lenient with ye because Constance here is so set upon it. I’d just as soon have yer head. But once ye’ve recovered enough tae travel, I want ye gone. Tav, ye can take him tae the stables.”
“Aye, m’laird. Come on, on yer feet, Braither,” Tav said, his voice laced with relief, putting his arms beneath Bane’s and hauling him to his feet. Bane, too weak to stand without help, had no choice but to accept his brother’s.
Constance took a step towards him.
“Nay, Constance,” her father thundered, stopping her in her tracks. “Stay where ye are. Tav will see tae him. I want ye tae stay here.”
“Yes, Father,” she murmured, nevertheless watching intently as Tav propped him up while he swayed unsteadily on his feet for a moment or two, feeling afresh the effects of the earlier beating. His head swam, but as it cleared, he realized it was no longer throbbing quite so painfully as before.
However, the pain meant nothing. Even the fact he had just escaped with his life meant nothing to him. As he passed Constance on his way out of the room, he smiled at her, trying to tell her with his eyes how much he loved her and how immensely grateful he was for all she had done for him.
But beneath his smile, an agonizing pain had exploded in his chest, far worse than any beating, worse than anything he had ever had to bear. It was heart shattering to pieces, because he was certain he was looking on her beautiful face for the last time. They would never see each other again.
All that really matters is that she’s safe, and I can live with that.