Page 114 of Under the Laird’s Promise

She turned, expecting Kathleen or a servant. Instead, Tavish stepped inside, closing the door firmly behind him.

"I need tae speak with ye," he said.

His voice was different. Serious. Determined in a way that made her pulse quicken.

"Alright." She set down the quill she'd been holding. "What is it?"

Tavish crossed the room in three long strides. He stopped in front of her, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. They were blazing with something she couldn't quite name.

"I just went tae yer faither," he said.

Her breath caught. "Why?"

"Tae ask fer yer hand in marriage. Properly. Nae as a lie or a strategy, but as the truth."

The world seemed to tilt slightly. Maighread gripped the edge of the desk behind her.

"What did he say?"

"He gave his blessing." Tavish's jaw tightened. "But that's nae why I'm here. I'm nae asking ye tae marry me because yer faither agreed. I'm asking because I love ye, Maighread. Because I cannae imagine me life without ye in it. Because every breath I take feels easier when ye're near, and every moment apart feels like suffocation."

The words hit her like a physical force. She stared at him, her throat closing.

"I love ye," Tavish repeated, his voice rougher now. "I've tried nae tae. Tried tae keep distance, tae stay practical, tae remember this started as a lie. But it's nae a lie anymore. It hasnae been fer a long time. And I willnae pretend otherwise fer another bloody second."

Maighread's eyes burned. "Tavish⁠—"

"We already talked about this. But I want to make sure this is clear. I'm asking ye tae marry me, nae because of Keir, nae because of politics, nae because of anything except that I love ye and I want ye as me wife. Will ye have me?"

The question hung in the air between them. Maighread felt tears spill over, hot against her cheeks.

"Aye," she whispered. "I ken we already spoke about it. But aye, I'll marry ye, because I love ye too, even if I have nae said those words yet. I've never been more certain of anything." She covered his hands with hers. "I love ye too. I think I have since ye first stood between me and those men on the road. Maybe even before."

He kissed her then, fierce and claiming. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing closer, pouring everything she felt into the contact. When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his forehead rested against hers.

"There's something else ye need tae ken," Tavish said quietly.

The shift in his tone made her stomach clench. "What?"

"Yer faither told me tae act quickly. He said…" Tavish's voice roughened. "He said he willnae be laird much longer. Weeks at most. Maybe less."

The words struck like a blow. Maighread went very still.

"He said if he dies before ye're married, the clan will tear itself apart. The Council will fight fer control. Sinclair will use the chaos tae make his move." Tavish's grip on her tightened. "We need tae marry soon, Maighread. Days, nae weeks. Before it's too late."

The reality of it crashed over her. Her father was dying. Actually dying. She'd known he was ill and that his time was coming soon, she had seen him growing weaker, but some part of her had refused to accept the finality of it. Now there was no denying it.

"Days," she repeated numbly.

"Aye."

She pulled back slightly, her vision blurring as tears welled up again. "He's really going tae die."

"Maighread—"

"I ken he's ill. I've kenned fer months. But hearing ye say it, hearing that he's planning fer his death, that he's… " Her voice broke. "This is how it ends fer him. Weak and failing, rushing tae marry me off before he's gone."

"He's nae just rushing tae marry ye off. He's ensuring ye're protected. That's different."