“Duncan, as a friend, I’m askin’ ye tae give me just a few minutes tae explain,” Malcolm tried again, dogging their steps, clearly not prepared to give up.
Duncan’s jaw set. “Dinnae have the gall tae stand there and ask me as a friend. I need time tae think,” he said with decisive intensity. “Ye’re nae tae speak tae her. At first light, Catriona will be comin’ home with me.”
Shock rippled through her. “Nay!”
“Dinnae dae this, Duncan,” Malcolm said calmly, though Catriona could see the pain in his eyes.
Duncan ignored him. Finally, his gaze flicked to her—softening only slightly as their eyes met.
“Ye’ll come with me, Sister,” he said gently but firmly. “And when we get home, we’ll talk about this... whatever this is... and I’ll decide what tae dae about it.”
Malcolm’s expression darkened further as he followed them into the hallway.
“Catriona isnae the same young lassie ye left at the priory five years ago. She’s nae a decision tae be made or a chess piece tae be moved around a board, man. She’s a woman with her own opinions,” he argued calmly.
But Duncan lifted a hand, cutting him off. “Save yer breath. It’s settled,” he said.
Catriona protested and tried to pull away, but two maids turned into the hallway then and began coming towards them.
Malcolm saw them and halted, obviously reluctant for the servants to witness the ugly scene. Catriona looked back at him despairingly as Duncan took the opportunity to lead her away down the hallway.
Catriona could not rest or sleep. She sat by the narrow window in her chamber, arms wrapped tightly around herself as the rain traced uneven lines down the window pane.
Every hour that passed felt as though her chance at lasting happiness was draining away, like sand in an hourglass.
The knock came softly at the door. She rose and turned towards it, knowing who it was.
“Come in.”
Duncan stepped inside. He closed the door behind him and remained near it for a moment, as though unsure how close he was allowed to come.
“I didnae come tae argue,” he said quietly. “I’m here tae try tae understand.”
Catriona raised her chin determinedly. She loved her brother dearly. She had never argued with him in her life, never questioned his decisions. But now, though it pained her to do it, too much was at stake not to fight for what she wanted.
“What is there tae understand? Malcolm and I love each other.”
Duncan did not respond immediately. So she kept going.
“Have ye forgotten who he is? He’s the man ye sent tae fetch me in yer place, who singlehandedly saved me from Sinclair by riskin’ his own life more than once because ye asked him tae. If nae fer him, I’d be Sinclair’s wife by now.”
The strength and determination in her voice surprised even her. She would make him understand if it killed her. Because if she was forced to live without Malcolm, she might as well be dead.
“Malcolm is a good and honorable man. And he’s good laird,” she added. “His people love him. He’s earned that by his own efforts, and I respect him fer it.”
Duncan listened in silence, but something flickered in his expression at that.
Catriona took a breath, then steadied herself. “Whatever ye think, I havenae been forced intae anythin’,” she said more quietly. “Naethin’ has been taken from me. Everythin’ I’ve given has been given freely.”
In the long pause that followed, she silently prayed he would heed her words.
Finally, he spoke.
“All that...” He waved his hand dismissively. “It changes naethin’,” he said, sounding dubious. “Even so, I’ll nae make a decision about this in haste.”
He stepped further into the room now, his eyes steady upon hers
“Ye ken as well as I dae, Cat, as an unwed noble lass, ye’re an asset tae our clan. And I willnae see yer worth squandered through a foolish impulse.”
