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“It doesn’ae matter,” she said sadly. “Even if he…even if Alexander wanted the same, an’ I’m nae sayin’ that I think he does—”
“He does,” Catherine assured her, but Cicilia pressed on as if she hadn’t heard.
“Even then, I couldn’ae…I wouldnae act on it beyond what we’ve already done. I couldn’ae wed him. I couldn’ae leave me Faither’s farm, nae before Jamie is old enough to take over. I will nae ask Alexander to abandon his seat, an’ I’ll even less likely ask him to wait eight years or more for me to be ready.”
She
shook her head, and she knew her words were true even though they tore at her heart. “I cannae let meself love Alexander, an’ I cannae let him love me. It only ends in heartbreak. I should end what we’re doin’ now. I should finish me work in the village, an’ then when the renovations are done, I’ll go home to me farm an’ we can forget about each other.”
Catherine let out a long sigh that reminded Cicilia so much of Alexander’s frustrated noise that she did a double-take. “That is the opposite lesson I wanted ye to take from this, Cicilia,” Catherine complained.
Cicilia smiled sadly. “Aye, I ken what ye intended. Ye’re a good woman an’ a better sister. But I will nae be another Ilene. I will nae break his heart. It’s better that he’s hurt a bit now than we both suffer more later.”
Catherine tutted, but nodded. “If that’s what ye believe. But, Cicilia, will ye do me one favor?”
“Aye?” Cicilia replied. She figured that, whatever the Laird’s wife asked, it was the least she could do. “What can I do for ye, Madame Sinclair?”
“Two things,” Catherine told her. “First, stop callin’ me Madame Sinclair. If Sandy is Alexander, then I’m Catherine, aye?”
Cicilia chuckled sadly. “Aye, all right, Catherine. An’ the other thing?”
“Dinnae break it off just yet,” the Laird’s wife entreated. “Nae yet. If ye insist that pullin’ apart is the best way forward, then I understand, but please, for me sake, wait until yer renovations are near complete. Let yerself an’ me wee brother be happy for just a touch longer. Please.”
Cicilia hesitated. Part of her wanted to refuse outright, but another, stronger, part was crying out for her to agree. After all, she didn’t want to give Alexander up. She didn’t want to live in a way that meant she’d never kiss him again, never feel his skin against her own. She didn’t want to…
But does that make me selfish? If I let us get deeper into this, kennin’ how it’ll end, can I really call meself a good person? How am I better than Ilene?
She resolved to talk to Alexander about the whole situation, and soon. The thought scared her, but it was the only way ahead. In a few days, when the dust had settled, she’d sit him down and confess her feelings. Then she’d explain the issue and leave it up to him if they continued on until she left for good.
It’s a solid plan. So why does it make me heart ache so much?
The Castle was looming on the horizon now, and Catherine touched her shoulder. “Cicilia?” she asked. “Can ye do it?”
Cicilia looked between Catherine and the Castle, her own heart all aflutter once more, the bundle of emotions almost too much to bear. “Can I do it?” she repeated. “Honestly, Catherine? I have nae idea.”
Chapter 24
Cui Bono?
Good for Whom?
Annys and Jamie were extremely taken by Alexander’s niece and nephew. In fact, Annys quite boldly announced, much to the amusement of everyone at breakfast, that she would wed young Matthew as soon as the pair of them were old enough.
“An’ will ye come live in the Sinclair lands an’ be a joint ruler o’ the Castle when me husband steps down?” Catherine asked her.
“Aye! An’ when Cil is rulin’ here, our family will be in charge o’ two clans!” Annys said with a giggle.
Alexander glanced at Cicilia, seeing her discomfort as she stared deliberately down at her plate. He sighed. The children had been gossiping, and he suspected that Alice, in all of her young adolescent wisdom, had declared that Cicilia and he would be wed.
He’d meant to talk to Cicilia about it since the day in the inn a few days previously. He’d realized, then, how he felt—how he loved her. He’d told Nathair such, and the response had been a resounding, “Aye, an’ water is wet.”
Rude, but accurate. Everybody kent except me, even me sister that I have nae seen in such a long time.
The thing was, though, he couldn’t just bring it up. He and Cicilia didn’t have the luxury that Nathair and Jeanie had, the freedom that came with their positions. Both had responsibilities, but both were quickly able to adjust to suit the other. Though there would be some adjustments for them, Jeanie would be able to leave Wauton behind and move into the Castle with her new husband without disrupting anything much.
Nathair had admitted to him, after apologizing for not telling him about the betrothal sooner, that if Jeanie hadn’t wanted to move, he would have gone to her. Yes, he would have missed being Man-at-arms—but love was love.
Such a luxury to be able to think in such ways. I wonder what it must feel like.
