“I found the good-bye letter you had hidden in our chamber. Even if now I am your second choice—nay, even as a last resort—I pray that you will still consider me. You must see now that you were meant to stay with me—it can be the only explanation as to why you slept through the dawn.”
“I haven’t closed my eyes the whole of the night, Tavish Cameron,” she scolded and gripped the front of his tunic with both fists. “I watched the sun rise. How dare you suggest that I—”
He thwarted her outrage with his kiss, drawing her fully against him, wrapping his strong arms around her shoulders while she pulled him closer and answered his kiss with her own of equal measure.
Tavish pulled away too soon, but he did not release her from his embrace. “You meant to miss theStygian’sdeparture?”
She looked into his eyes, and for an instant the doubt wanted to creep into her heart. “Aye. I meant to stay…with you. If it is truly me you want, and not only Roscraig.”
He drew her against his chest again, this time cradling her head in his palm and laying his cheek against her crown. “My princess,” he murmured; then he looked down into her face. “Your father?”
“He is awake, and asking for mead,” Glenna said with a smile. “I was going to fetch it when you tried to send me to my death.”
“I’ll go,” he said, releasing her. “I’ll find a maid to bring it and some food. Now that I can be sure that you won’t run off while I’m not looking, I would speak with Audrey as soon as she has made her way from her covers. There is a discussion we must have that is long overdue. Certainly before her father arrives.” He touched her cheek. “You’ve made me very happy.”
She smiled at him as he turned away and stepped quickly and lightly down into the gloom of the corridor, and then she closed the door and rested her back against it for a moment. What lightness she felt now, what hope, in this chamber that had seemed so despairing through the night. Her father was alert, seeming to have regained a portion of his health with the dawn, and while Tavish Cameron had not made a declaration of love to her, he had stood guard outside her door all the night, worried that she would leave him.
Perhaps for him, they were one and the same.
* * * *
Tavish met Mam as he reached the entry corridor, her hands laden with a tray, and he leaned in to peck her cheek and squeeze her elbows in a fond embrace as she greeted him.
“Well, this is quite a change from your foul humor of last night.”
“I have fair reason for my lightened mood. I’ve just left Glenna; Iain Douglas is awake and asking for mead.”
His mother’s face wore a startled expression. “He’s awake? Are you certain?”
“Aye. A good omen, I say. I was just on my way to find a maid.”
Harriet lifted the tray in her hands. “No need.”
Tavish kissed her cheek again. “You’re no maid, but you are a saint, Mam. Glenna will be glad to see you.” He began backing away from her. “Audrey’s not been about, by chance?”
Mam snorted. “At this early hour? Good heavens, if Miss Keane is out of her bed so soon after dawn, never mind your good omen, for you can be sure the world is nigh to end.”
Tavish laughed as he turned and mounted the stairs leading up to the west tower. Not even the prospect of rousing Audrey and confirming what she’d already accused him of could dampen his good mood. He would apologize and take the berating owed him. It was Audrey, after all—they had been friends for a score of years, and she had likely suspected Tavish was in love with Glenna Douglas long before Tavish himself had.
He paused on the steps between floors. He was in love with Glenna Douglas.
The sound of a door opening drew his attention upward, and he saw a young maid backing carefully out of Audrey’s room with a covered tray in one hand. The woman closed the door and started down the stairs.
“Is Miss Keane awake?” Tavish asked, resuming his climb.
The maid gave him only the briefest, frowning glance as she passed. “She said she doesn’t yet wish to be disturbed, milord.”
Tavish chuckled as the girl carried the obviously heavy tray awkwardly down the stairs. Apparently, Audrey had refused such an early breakfast. He came to the door and rapped softly with the backs of his knuckles, hoping not to rouse any of the other guests on the floor.
“Audrey, it’s Tavish.” She didn’t answer, and so he knocked again, a bit louder. “Audrey?” He engaged the handle and pushed the door open a bit. “I’m coming in. Don’t throw anything at me.”
The drapes at the windows had been opened, allowing the bright glow of morning to creep into even this west-facing room, yet the chamber was cold, the fire having gone out sometime in the night. The maid had likely been miffed at her swift ejection and not deigned to lay the demanding miss a warming blaze to help thaw her icy demeanor. The drapes about the bed were still drawn tight, and that caused Tavish’s grin to return. Everything seemed promising this morning, even this task now before him. It was the proper thing to do, and he felt no shame in it.
Tavish cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to disturb you so early in the day, Audrey. But I wished to speak with you privately. With as many suitors as you’ve had laying siege to Roscraig, I knew this was my best opportunity.”
He waited for the curtains to twitch, billow. But the bed behind the heavy drapes remained still.
“Your father sent you here with the intention that the two of us should wed. I think you and I both know that that’s not in either of our best interest. You would hate living so far from Edinburgh, and you want a doting husband who will play the role of senator at your social functions. We have been friends long enough that you know I can never be that man. Perhaps it is because we know each other too well that this would never work.”
