Page 61 of Hold Fast

“Aye,” he said bitterly. “She died shortly after naming them and took my father’s will to live with her. He poured his love into Catriona and Connor, and I’m grateful to him for that, but he was a shell of the man he had been. He became a ghost.”

Ewan shifted on the bed and turned to face her. His knee pressed into the juncture where her shins crossed.

“I have lost much, Una. I lost my mother. I lost my father the day she died, and then I lost him again years later after watching him slip away. Here and gone at the same time. I couldnae bear the thought of loving someone the way my father loved my mother and losing her the same way. That’s why I havenae married yet. And, to be truthful, it was nae such a sacrifice. Until recently.”

“Until recently?” Una felt her heart hammering behind her ribs.

“I never even considered it until I met ye. I dinnae ken why. You’ve wiggled your way beneath the armor. I cannae sleep for worrying about you. I cannae focus for thinking about you. You’ve consumed my waking thoughts and my sleeping dreams. I find myself wanting to seek you out, to hear about your day, to help you where I can.”

Tears welled in Una’s eyes, and she choked on a sob.

“Una,” he said quietly, reaching out and resting a large, heavy hand on her knee. “Please dinnae cry, Una. I willnae ask you to marry me again. You said nay, and I respect your decision. I ken I worry too much. I cannae seem to stop. But when I close my eyes, I see everyone dead and myself powerless to have stopped it. Sometimes I feel like I’m going mad.”

He took a deep breath, his hand falling away from her knee. “When you refused me, after I finally decided to cast my worries to the wind, I didnae handle myself well. I’m sorry.”

She wept in earnest now, tears sliding between her fingers.

“Please dinnae cry, Una. Please. I beg of you. I’ll take you to the Stewarts. I’ll send you to court if you’d rather.” The words sounded stuck in his throat.

“That isnae what I want,” she replied, shaking.

“Then tell me what you do want,” he said gently.

“I dinnae ken!” Una cried. “I dinnae ken what I want besides the fact that I dinnae want to be traded back and forth like my wishes dinnae matter! I ken you are nae like him. You are a good man. But I survived a year with him, and I am nae well, Ewan. I have nightmares. I’m afraid of everything. Sometimes I am so angry I want to stab something. And you. I make you feel crazed. You said it yourself. You would be better marrying a woman who didnae inspire such intensity. And I—” She didn’t know what she was about to say.

Una suddenly felt as if she hadn’t slept for days, as if she’d raced to the loch and back. Her body trembled with exhaustion and nerves and something else. Ewan rose from the bed and crossed the chamber. She waited for him to open the door and tell her to leave. It would break her.

But he didn’t. Instead, he put two logs on the fire, crouching to stoke the embers and blowing gently, encouraging the small flames until they lapped greedily at the wood. When the fire burned brightly once more, bathing the room in soft light, Ewan returned to sit on the bed. He rested his hands on either side of his body, governed by the tension and restraint that Una recognized so well.

“Was there a babe? With Cameron? Or did you…”

Una blinked at him, the question feeling sudden and abrupt, but perhaps it wasn’t so abrupt after all. Perhaps he’d wondered this whole time. She swallowed heavily. “Nay.”

“I wouldnae judge you if you had.”

“One cannae get rid of a bairn they deliberately didnae conceive,” she replied. “But I left the Cameron keep in disgrace. The common wench who seduced a laird and failed to bring him an heir. People talk. They will continue to talk. And before long, that talk will reach a MacDonald’s ears, and yer clan will find out that their laird married his enemy’s previous handfast.”

He made a noise of protest, but she pressed on. “Ewan, ye need a better wife than me. Someone people will respect.”

“People respect you—”

“Someone that will strengthen an alliance or help your clan—”

“You will help my clan. You—”

“Someone who isnae a castoff from an enemy clan’s laird.”

With the speed and grace of a cat, he was close, cupping her cheeks in his hands and lifting her face so that her eyes met his. Una squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lips between her teeth.

“Castoff?” he asked, so gentle with his words and his touch as he brushed the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. “Castoff? How can you say such a thing about yourself?”

Una shrugged, her tears gathering again. “I dinnae see myself that way. But others will.” And when he began to argue, she pressed, “Theywill,Ewan.”

“Una,” he said, his voice a hoarse rasp. “Why does it matter what people think? What good is being laird if I cannae marry whoever the hell I choose? Because I think you’re the most remarkable person I’ve ever met.”

She blinked her eyes open, shifting her gaze to his. He was so close.

“Una,mo cridhe, cannae you see what a gift you are?” he whispered, pressing his lips to the knot between her eyebrows.