She gasped. “You think my stepbrother is ignorant of his father’strue loyalty?”
“Mayhap, ’twould explain why his life was spared, but”—his red brows drew together—“something still feelsout of kilter.”
“Regardless,” she said on a relieved breath, “’tis a reason for which I am thankful. More, it makes sense that my stepfather wouldna want me or hisson involved.”
“It does. Nor will we have our answers until we speak with him.” Cailin sounded distracted. As if he was thinking things out as he spoke.
“Then you will save Blar?”
He gave a curt nod. “I will try.”
“I thank you.” She wanted to throw her arms around him. He would never know how much this meant to her.
“What of the map to Tiran Castle? Do you know if ’tis still there?”
“Nay. When the guards stormed inside, two grabbed my stepfather. Under the direction of Lord Dalkirk, three others tore apart our belongings until one found the map and handed it to the earl.”
“Which makes sense if it was one of the men who visited recently who exposed Sir Angus’s loyalty to the Bruce.” He grimaced. “And after the search?”
“I saw nay more. The earl ordered his men to haul me to Tiran Castle. When I was dragged into the noble’s chamber in the stronghold, he didna have the map, and I…” A tremor shook her and she closed her eyes against the violent memories, her terror, the fear for her life.
“Elspet.”
Fisting her hands against the rush of emotion, she turned away, feeling too fragile to combat another memory, afraid if he touched her now, she’d fall apart. “I am tired,” she said, damning the tremor in her voice.
The shuffle of clothes was her only warning, then Cailin’s strong arms drew her against him. “’Tis all right, let the tears come.”
“Release me,” she breathed, the swell of tears buildingin her throat.
Instead, he lay her head against his chest.
A sob tore free, then another. Any semblance of control shattered as great, heart-wrenching sobs poured out, each shaking her body until she was exhausted. In a combination of pain and grief, she collapsed against him. Cailin held her close, the steady rise and fall of his chest like an anchor of goodness against the horrific memories of her family destroyed.
How long she leaned against him, she wasn’t sure, but when no more tears would come, she remained still. Shame had her wanting to pull away without looking at him, but pride had her raising her head and meeting his gaze.
* * * *
In the soft waver of firelight, her eyes, red with tears and dark with grief, lifted to Cailin’s, and at that moment he couldn’t look away. Though she hurt and suffered greatly, she had an innate strength he’d rarely seen. The intensity reminded him of three other special women he’d met: his friend Stephan’s wife, Katherine; Thomas’s wife, Alesone; Aiden’s wife, Gwendolyn.
Yet, however exceptional, Elspet would never have a place in his life. He was a man of war. Though he sought to reclaim Tiran Castle, once it was secure, he would rejoin King Robert. Many years lay ahead before he would return to his home or consider an heir. When time came to seek a wife, no doubt King Robert would dictate whohe would wed.
Nor would he allow himself to ponder the point further. Well he knew how war severed a man’s dreams. No doubt a woman of such beauty would have many men interested in her, if not one who hadspoken for her.
A trickle of possessiveness slid through him that another man would touch her. Cailin dismissed the unsettling thought. They had known each other but a few days, their first meeting far from inspiring trust.
His empathy came from anguish for her loss, a despair he well understood. After having witnessed her family murdered and a stepbrother seized but days before, she was heartbroken.
Understandably so.
A shudder rippled through her, then another. After a slow exhale, she nodded. “You may release me.”
With care, Cailin set her away from him. To give her time to gather her thoughts, he tended to the fire, adding several sticks until the flames grew and warmth spilled around himin a slow wash.
“I thank you,” she said. “I didna meanto fall apart.”
“That you were able to hold in your grief this long is a testament to your strength. Few women would have been sostrong-willed.”
A fragile smile touched her lips, then faded. “I tend to be a bit more stubborn than most.”
