Page 76 of Forbidden Kilted Highlander

She crossed her arms, her voice quieter now. “That’s nae what I asked.”

He finally met her eyes. And she saw it. There was fear in them. Not of her, but of what he was holding inside.

“I was going tae me room,” he said, fast now, too fast, like the words were rushing out before he could stop them. “I was halfway there when Caithness found me. Called me by name. Looked at me like—like he kent something.”

Agnes frowned. “What did he say?”

“He asked me tae follow him. Said he had somethin’ tae show me. Wouldnae tell me what. Led me down intae the dungeon. And there⁠—”

He stopped. Pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead like he could shove the memory away.

“There was a man,” he said. “One of Armstrong’s. Shackled, bloodied—looked half dead, but his eyes were still sharp. Caithness said they'd found him after the ambush. He’d lied, said he was from a merchant’s train. But they caught him, searched him. And eventually—after enough beatings—he had talked.”

Agnes stepped closer. Her voice dropped. “What did he say?”

“That it was never about ye,” Tav said bitterly. “Ye were just bait. They were after me. Always me.”

He turned and walked a few paces, then swung back toward her, hands gesturing sharply as he spoke.

“Armstrong sent those men tae kill me. Me. And the man, the prisoner, he said—he said Armstrong told them tae 'kill the bastard'. His words. Kill the bastard.”

He was breathing hard now, like he’d run all the way back to her room. His hands were clenched into fists, eyes still blazing.

Agnes furrowed her brow. “Ye think he meant it as an insult?”

“That’s just it—I dinnae ken!” Tav snapped. “I’ve been called worse. But the way he said it… it felt like more. Like it meant something. But it cannae be! And then Caithness looked at me like he wanted tae say somethin’, but he didn’t. Just said he wrote tae yer faither and we’re tae wait fer his orders.”

He paused, the fire dimming just slightly in his eyes. “He asked me tae stay here. Said it’s nae safe out there fer me. That Armstrong will keep sending men. That… that it’s nae over.”

Agnes reached for his arm, fingers wrapping gently around his wrist. “Then stay,” she said softly. “Please.”

Tav flinched at her touch. Not violently, but enough that she felt the tension in his frame coil tighter. Her heart skipped a bit.

“I dinnae ken what tae believe anymore,” he murmured. “I dinnae understand why Armstrong would go tae such lengths.”

“Maybe because ye got back up and started a new life,” she whispered. “And maybe that frightens him.”

He looked at her then, but the stillness in his gaze felt more like distance than focus. Agnes let her hand linger, but the way his body remained rigid beneath her fingers made her chest ache.

“Tav,” she said gently, “I’m here. Whatever this is, whatever it means—we’ll figure it out.”

But he shook his head. Not in anger, but in frustration as he drew back a little, just enough to break the contact. Not enough to be cruel, but enough to be clear.

“I cannae think straight when ye say things like that,” he muttered, voice thick with conflict. “Because I want tae believe ye. I dae. But me whole life’s been built on someone else’s lies. I dinnae ken who I am in all of this, and it terrifies me.”

Agnes swallowed, the space between them colder now that he’d put it there. She gave a small nod and let her hand fall to her side.

“I should leave ye tae rest,” she said quietly. “I just wanted tae make sure ye were alright.”

He didn’t speak as she turned toward the door, but she didn’t wait for a response.

And when she closed it behind her, the silence in the corridor felt colder than it had before.

The day was too fine for how she felt. The sky had bloomed open with the pale blue of late spring, dotted only by the wisps of cloud that seemed content to drift without purpose. It should have brought comfort, but to Agnes, it only heightened the dissonance in her chest.

She noticed it the moment she stepped into the great hall, the light spilling in through the narrow windows, too golden, too soft. It shouldn’t have been this beautiful, while her thoughts were this tangled. Not when Tav still hadn’t looked her in the eye since that morning in his chamber.

It had been three days since she’d found him pacing like a caged animal, his jaw tight when she tried to speak to him. She hadn’t truly seen him since. A glimpse across a corridor. A shadow moving beyond a threshold. Never long enough to speak.