Page 76 of Devil Black

“Far rather.” To his surprise, she reached for him, pulled him into her arms to lie against her. “You know, Husband, there is such a thing as forgiveness—even forgiveness of self.”

“I will never forgive myself,” Dougal said, and knew the words for truth. “And I know better, now, than to make pledges I cannot keep. I could not even hold you safe in your own garden. There is naught I would like more than to vow MacNab’s destruction for your sake—and hers. But I know better, now. I know myself, and him. MacNab does no’ play fair.”

“No.”

Dougal laughed harshly. “Aye, well, during the intervening years I, too, have learned the value of cheating. I can now lie, steal, and deceive wi’ the best of them. For honor gets a man nowhere, and the devil laughs at good intentions.”

“Is that what you have striven to do these many years—make yourself more despicable than MacNab? Is that why they call you Devil Black MacRae?”

“I ha’ learned to fight on my enemy’s terms, and MacNab knows naught of mercy—why should he?” He thought hard on it and added, “The difference between us is, MacNab hides his black heart behind a smiling and compliant face. I, being an honest man, flaunt mine.”

At least, he thought, even in the face of cowardice he could claim honesty. And that honesty kept him silent about what he felt for Isobel now—possessiveness, caring, and a surprising amount of tenderness—because the word she wanted from him he could not, in conscience, give.

“Why can you not forgive yourself?” Isobel asked. “You have forgiven me. Would you forgive Lachlan, if he failed you in some way?”

“Ah, Lachlan!” Dougal laughed more naturally. “He is another thing altogether. By the way, did you know you were right? He is sleeping in my sister’s bed.”

“Yes, and she is quite content with it. I think she will take from him what she needs, and give what she can.” Isobel hesitated. “Not an ideal situation, perhaps, but one that serves them both.”

Dougal grimaced in the darkness. “Meg, you are thinking, is as damaged as I. And are you, too, willing to accept broken and unsatisfactory offerings?”

“Broken, maybe,” she whispered, “but never, never unsatisfactory.”

Chapter Thirty-One

“It is unsatisfactory!” Dougal declared viciously. “I will not rest until I have brought that bastard to his knees. I do not care what it takes.”

Meg looked at her brother impatiently and then, once more, at the letter in her hands. It had arrived by courier from a woman she knew in Stirling, named Elizabeth Carstairs, whose husband held a place close to the King. Elizabeth had written not out of any sense of finer feeling but from spite, to inform Meg the King had Dougal MacRae in his sights.

“Do you not hear what I say?” she asked. “MacNab has once more complained to the King about you, and it seems this time the King means to act. He is due to arrive in Stirling within the fortnight and means to summon you thence.”

Dougal remained unmoved by the news. “MacNab needs settling,” he reiterated. “I will declare as much to the King or anyone else.”

A week had passed since the night Isobel took him back into her bed, which seemed to prove a turning point of sorts. Isobel’s health at last improved; Meg told him she now took her meals without protest and last night—miracle of miracles—his wife had allowed him to make love to her. It had been gentle, careful, nothing like their old couplings, yet it had shaken him to the core. His foolish heart had begun to hope they might build a future together after all, and now came this accursed missive, once more promising MacNab the upper hand. It enraged him.

Still perusing the letter, Meg went on, “MacNab tells the King you steal his cattle, torch his outbuildings and withhold from him his son’s betrothed.”

“She is my wife! Did not the King, himself, command me to marry?”

Meg grimaced. “What shall you do?”

Dougal considered it, scowling. “I shall tell the King, and fairly, there is no proof I have stolen MacNab’s cattle—”

“They roam your hills.”

“Strayed there. Is it my fault MacNab proves a careless landsman? Nor can he prove who burnt down his outbuildings and slaughtered the guards he posted. It might have been anyone. I assure you, Sister, we have been careful with our back trail.”

Meg did not look content.

“As for Isobel’s abduction... I would like the King to learn what goes on in MacNab’s keep. Perhaps ’tis time justice was sued.”

“You will not ask Isobel to go to Stirling! I doubt she would stand it.”

“Surely I can speak on my wife’s behalf.”

“And if her father also appears before the King and tells a different story?”

That, Dougal had to admit, would not be to his advantage. Yet he would die before he allowed Isobel to be harmed again. “We must determine whether Maitland has returned to Yorkshire.”