Page 57 of The Highlander’s Dangerous Desire

“You… you are the younger brother of the Lord - Laird - MacDuff. Until recently, from what you have told me, the MacTavish Clan was an enemy of yours. I suppose I do not understand why you seem determined to hold on to leadership. From what I understand of Scottish families and clans… why would you not wish to return to your own clan?”

Ewan’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching slightly. For a moment, Grace thought he might leave, or snarl at her. Then he took a deep breath. “Tis a fair question, I suppose. An’ the short answer o’ it is… because I dinnae wish tae be me braither’s shadow forever.”

Grace frowned, not understanding his words. “I…”

“Ye’re an only child, an’ a daughter besides, aye?” Ewan gave her another smile that held no real humor in it. “Ye grew up in a laird’s household, but nae as a second son, or with siblings.”

“Yes. That is true.”

“Bein’ a second son is…” Ewan shook his head. “Ye’re expected tae be everything a laird’s son is meant tae be, but with nay expectation o’ leading, unless yer braither dies early. Otherwise, ye serve as yer braither’s right hand, his shadow.” Ewan grimaced. “I love Alistair, but servin’ as his shadow… I didnae like bein’ there.”

“You wish to lead?”

“I wish nae tae feel like I was always bein’ judged as lesser. Alistair is a good man, an’ I respect him, but I always feel as if I’m bein’ judged by the man me braither is, nae meself.”

“That must be difficult.”

“Aye.” Ewan nodded. “I try nae tae think on it, but… it has always bothered me. And Alistair kent it, as well as any other. When we claimed oversight o’ the MacTavish clan, he offered me the position, and the chance tae see if I could be a laird in me own right. Tae prove meself.”

Grace thought she understood. “And you wanted to take the position.”

“I did. I wanted tae prove I was - am - Alistair’s equal.” Ewan pushed himself to his feet. Grace could tell he was uncomfortable with admitting so much. “And the longer I worked with the clan-folk there, with Devlin, Malcolm, Megan an’ the others, the more I came tae relate tae them. Tae feel as if I was part o’ them. MacDuff may be me blood, but MacTavish has become me clan as well, fer all the past enmity between us.”

It made perfect sense. Ewan was a strong man, a gifted warrior and, from what she had seen, a talented leader, who inspired loyalty in the people who served as his advisors and servants, even among the clan that had once been his enemies.

She was drawn from her thoughts by a soft huff of sardonic laughter. “Perhaps I’m nae me braither’s equal after all. Alistair wasnae challenged fer the lairdship - save fer bein’ encouraged tae tak’ a wife. And I cannae seem tae manage this without consultin’ with me braither, nor tae convince the clan tae hold me as their laird on me own merits.”

He looked so despondent that Grace felt compelled to say something. She stood and joined him by the fire. “You are not lesser, merely inexperienced. No lord knows everything when they first take the position. And your brother did not hold his position alone either. Is that not why he claimed Niamh as his bride?”

Ewan blinked, and she could tell from his expression that he hadn’t considered that facet of the situation before. She smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I am certain you are every bit as gifted as your brother - you merely need the time to learn all those things a lord learns with time.”

Ewan smiled wryly, but with less bitterness than before. “I feel as though, if I fail tae hold the lairdship, or cannae find me own choice o’ betrothed, it will only serve tae make people believe I cannae be as good a man as Alistair.”

“You are every bit as good a man as your brother.” Grace smirked at him playfully, wanting to lighten the somber mood that had fallen over them after her question. “You, at least, did not threaten me at our first meeting, even if you did soak me with ale. And you have succeeded in winning over many of the MacTavish clan, even if you do not realize how loyal they are to you.”

“I ken Devlin and Malcolm…”

“Devlin and Malcolm are open in their support of you, as good advisors and friends should be. But I have spoken with others - servants who would not speak their minds before their lords, and they find you far better than the man they served afore.”

Ewan grunted. “Small praise.”

“But still, you are valued. Respected. And if I understand the loyalty that exists between clansmen of the same clan, then does it not say something positive about your leadership? That you have not been ousted simply because the man who opposes you shares the name MacTavish, where your name is still MacDuff?”

Ewan blinked, and Grace could see that her words were, at last, beginning to reach him. She smiled and stretched up to kiss his chin softly. “You are a good man, Ewan MacDuff. And a good lord, as I well know. Until you find a bride you wish to pursue, or until I must return to my uncle in Lancaster, I am well content to stand as a woman you might court, to aid you in your quest to claim the title you deserve to hold.”

She wished that she could be Ewan’s bride in truth, but she understood how alliance marriages worked. And Ewan, a new laird of a clan that was not originally his own, would very likely need an alliance marriage, if he was to hold the lairdship for any great length of time. His kin and his new clan would want him to marry a Highland lass who could bring him support and resources that he could never gain by marrying an English lady of a cadet branch of the Lancaster family.

At least now she knew that Ewan had not turned aside because he had no desire for her, or because he was ashamed to be in bed with an English woman. It had been a simple misunderstanding, and now that it was ended, they might be free to explore what relationship they wished, until it was time to part.

And if her heart were to break with the parting? Ewan need never know. No one save Niamh - and perhaps not even Niamh - need ever understand what she left behind.

‘If ye leave behind the destiny yer heart has led ye tae, there’s naught but misery and grief in yer future.’ Sorcha’s words echoed in her thoughts, and Grace set them aside. She might wish things were different, but she could not act solely for her own happiness. She must consider Ewan’s happiness, and his status, as well. And if the best thing to do was give him up, then that is what she would do. It was all she could do.

Ewan kissed her, bringing her back to the present. “Ye look melancholy, all o’ a sudden. What troubles ye?”

“Only thoughts of the future. Nothing of great importance.” Her stomach chose that moment to growl, and Grace blushed. “And thoughts of the morning meal, which we must hurry to prepare for, if we do not wish to be late.”

She pulled free of Ewan and nudged him toward his boots and belt. “You must go and dress in your chambers, and I must find proper clothing. Otherwise, folk will surely talk.”