Page 26 of Under the Laird’s Promise

"I'll watch him," Maighread said immediately.

The healer's eyebrow rose. "That's hardly proper, me lady."

"He's me betrothed. It's perfectly proper." Her tone dared argument.

The healer looked between them, then shrugged. "As ye say. I'll leave supplies. Call if his condition worsens."

She gathered her things and left.

Silence filled the room. Tavish lay still, every breath sending fire through his ribs. Maighread sat beside him, her hand moving from his shoulder to clasp his hand—tentative, gentle.

"This is me fault," she said quietly, her voice thick. "I dragged ye intae this. Put ye in danger. And now ye're⁠—"

"I'm alive." He squeezed her hand weakly. "

"But he attacked ye anyway."

"Aye. Which proves something we both need tae accept." Tavish forced himself to meet her eyes, to say what needed saying. "He is worried, because once this becomes fully official, it becomes much harder fer him tae override. He is thinking that I wouldnae risk me life unless the betrothal is real. So, this isnae ending. Nae in a fortnight. Nae even in a few months. Keir willnae stop until one of us is dead or ye're married tae someone else."

Her face went very still. "What are ye saying?"

"I'm saying we cannae just pretend this betrothal away when it becomes inconvenient. I'm saying Keir tested me…" He swallowed hard. "When I left, he took that as proof the betrothal was real enough tae threaten. Real enough that he needed tae eliminate me."

"So he'll keep trying." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Aye. He'll keep trying." Tavish's grip tightened on her hand. "Which means I cannae leave. Nae fer MacBain lands, nae fer anywhere. I need tae stay here, at yer side, where everyone can see we're truly committed tae this match."

"Fer how long?"

"Until we find a way tae remove Keir as a threat permanently," Tavish said carefully. "Or until..." He trailed off.

"Until what?" Her grey eyes searched his face.

Until this stops being pretend. Until these feelings I'm developing become impossible tae ignore. Until I cannae tell the difference between the lie and the truth anymore.

But he couldn't say that. Not when she was looking at him with such raw vulnerability. Not when his mind was fuzzy with pain and exhaustion and he couldn't trust himself to guard his words properly.

"Until we find a way tae stop this." She looked down at their joined hands. "Until then, we are bound. Nae just pretending fer a few weeks."

"Aye." His chest tightened. "This becomes real, Maighread. The betrothal, the courtship, all of it. We cannae afford any more half-measures or contradictions. Everyone—the Council, the clan, Keir himself—needs tae believe we're genuinely committed tae marrying each other. Because if we got married, I’d become laird in yer stead. The succession would pass tae me, and Keir loses all leverage."

"That's…" She swallowed hard. "That's asking a lot."

"I ken." Exhaustion was pulling at him now, making his words slur slightly. "And if ye want me tae leave anyway, if this is too much⁠—"

"Nay." The word came fierce and immediate. "Ye're staying. We're…" She took a shaky breath. "We're daein’ this properly. Whatever that means. We’ll take it step by step."

Relief and something warmer flooded through him. "We'll need new rules.."

"What kind of rules?"

"Ones we set together. About how close we get, what we share, what stays private between us." His eyes were drifting closed despite his best efforts. "But later. We'll figure it out later when I'm nae bleeding all over yer healer's linens."

"Rest now." Her free hand brushed hair back from his forehead, the touch achingly gentle. "We'll talk when ye're stronger. About the rules, about Keir, about... everything."

"Stay?" The word escaped before he could stop it.

"I'm nae going anywhere." Her voice softened. "I told the healer I'd watch ye. I keep me word."