Page 82 of Under the Laird’s Promise

The gathering continued for another hour, but Tavish barely noticed. He moved through the motions, speaking to guests and reassuring nervous villagers. But his mind stayed fixed on Maighread. On the promise of what would come once they were finally free to stop pretending.

When the last guests finally departed and the hall began to empty, Tavish slipped away. He climbed the stairs to his chambers, intending to try for sleep despite knowing it would be futile.

And surely enough, sleep refused to come.

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the day over and over. The attack. The terror of nearly losing her. The kiss in his chambers. The dance.

After what felt like hours, he gave up. Rising, he pulled on his trews and shirt, leaving the laces loose. Perhaps a walk through the castle would clear his mind.

The corridors were dark and quiet, most of the household already abed. Tavish made his way to the solar without conscious thought, drawn by some instinct he couldn't name.

Firelight flickered beneath the door.

He pushed it open quietly. Maighread sat in one of the chairs near the hearth, wrapped in a thick robe. She looked up as he entered, unsurprised.

"Couldnae sleep either?" she asked.

"Nay. Too much running through me head."

"Same."

The fire had burned low, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls. Tavish settled into the chair beside hers, close enough to feel her warmth but not touching. They sat in silence for a long moment, both staring into the flames.

"I dinnae regret staying," he said finally. "When I left MacBain lands tae escort Marsaili home, I thought it would be a simple journey. A favor fer me sister. But then I met ye, and everything changed."

"Changed how?"

"I stopped thinking about returning home. Stopped seeing this as temporary." He turned his head to look at her profile, illuminated by firelight. "Ye asked me earlier what happens next. The truth is, I dinnae want there tae be an 'after this.' I want tae stay. Nae just until Keir is dealt with. Permanently."

Maighread's hands tightened on the arms of her chair. "That's a significant decision."

"Aye. But it's the right one." He paused. "Daes it frighten ye? The thought of me staying?"

"Nay." She finally turned to meet his eyes. "What frightens me is how much I want ye tae stay. How much I've come tae need ye here."

"That frightens ye?"

"Aye. Because needing someone gives them power over ye. And I've spent so long fighting tae maintain control of me own life that the thought of surrendering even a piece of it is…" She trailed off, searching for words.

"Terrifying," he finished for her.

"Aye."

Tavish understood. He felt it too. The pull between them, that connection that had grown from necessity into something far more dangerous. It would be easier to walk away. Safer to keep his heart guarded.

But he didn't want safe. He wanted her.

"I'm afraid too," he admitted. "Of making the wrong choice. Of failing ye when ye need me most. Of becoming the kind of leader who causes harm instead of preventing it."

"Ye willnae."

"Ye cannae ken that."

"I can. Because I've seen ye make difficult choices already. Seen ye put others before yerself. That's nae the mark of a man who'll fail when it matters." She shifted slightly in her chair, angling toward him. "Yer faither's friend saw something in ye worth protecting all those years ago. And I see it too."

The words settled over him, soothing some of the guilt he carried. "Thank ye fer that."

"It's only the truth."