Page 98 of Under the Laird’s Promise

Tavish's mouth twitched. "What's so amusing, lass?"

"Ye." She gestured at him, still laughing. "Ye look as though ye've been swimming in the loch with yer clothes on."

"And ye look as though ye've been trying tae batter down that door with yer bare hands." His smile faded, replaced by something more serious. "Which is exactly what ye were daeing, wasnae it? Where were ye going in such a hurry?"

The laughter died in her throat. "Tae find ye."

"Why?"

"Because..." She swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "Because ye need tae leave. Take the Council's offer. Return tae MacBain lands before Keir kills ye."

His expression went very still. "We've already discussed this."

"Nay, ye made a declaration and didnae give me time tae argue." She moved closer, her hands curling into fists. "Tavish, please. I cannae… I willnae have yer death on me conscience. If ye stay, Keir will find a way tae hurt ye. He always finds a way."

"So I should run? Abandon ye tae face him alone?"

"Better that than watching ye die!"

"Nay." He closed the distance between them, his presence overwhelming. "I already told ye, Maighread. I'm staying. Ye’re nae getting rid of me that easily."

Frustration blazed hot in her chest. "This isnae about getting rid of ye. This is about keeping ye alive."

"Then ye should have thought of that before ye claimed me as yer betrothed." His voice dropped lower, rough with something dangerous. "Before ye dragged me intae this mess and made me care whether ye lived or died."

"I never asked ye tae care."

"Nay, ye just asked me tae protect ye. Tae play a part. Tae stand beside ye and pretend we were something we werenae." He moved closer still, forcing her to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. "Except it stopped being pretend weeks ago, and ye ken that fine."

Her breath caught. "Tavish⁠—"

"Tell me ye dinnae feel this." His hand came up, cupping her jaw. "Tell me yer heart daesnae race when I touch ye. That ye dinnae think about what almost happened in that tavern bed. That ye dinnae want me the same way I want ye."

She should lie. Should protect them both by maintaining the fiction that this was still just strategy, still just political maneuvering.

But she couldn't.

"I cannae tell ye that," she whispered. "Because it would be a lie."

Something blazed in his eyes. "Then stop trying tae send me away."

"But ye could die⁠—"

"We all die eventually, lass. The question is whether we live first." His thumb stroked along her cheekbone. "And I'd rather spend whatever time I have fighting beside ye than waste decades somewhere safe and miserable."

"Ye’re an idiot."

"Aye. Yer idiot, apparently."

The storm raged outside, wind battering the shutters. Rain drummed against stone. Lightning flashed, illuminating them both in stark relief.

Maighread reached up, her fingers threading through his damp hair. "If ye die because of me, I'll never fergive ye."

"Then I'd better nae die." His other hand found her waist, pulling her flush against him. "Wouldnae want tae disappoint ye."

"Tavish—"

He kissed her.