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Cameron nodded. “Aye, but she did tell me the entire truth of her father and the others. I believe she lied to me so I would nae have to lie, too. Would ye nae do all in yer power to keep me from death, even if ye kenned I was nae a good person?”
“I would,” Graham said begrudgingly. “What is it ye wish to do?” he asked, surprising Cameron by not questioning and arguing.
“Ye trust me to make the correct choices?” Cameron asked, his chest tight.
“Aye, Brother. I have trusted ye to make the correct choices for a long time now,” he said. “Ye were just blind to the fact.”
“Aye,” Cameron agreed. “I was.” He cleared his throat. “I want to call Lachlan and Iain here and have a meeting with them, ye, Lena, Marsaili, Bridgette, Marion, and Isobel. I wish to get Sorcha to declare in front of yer priest that she intends to marry me in the future, but her statement must be gained in such a way that she dunnae realize she has given the first part of what is required for a man and wife to be married.”
Graham’s eyes widened. “And after she has shared her intent in front of my priest, what then?”
“Then,” Cameron said slowly, “I will acquire the second part of what is required to make her my wife by the law of church and man. I will join our bodies.” Though Sorcha simply would think he had finally given in to his desire. “I must defend her against all that may occur, and I fear the cunning of Hugo and his father. If there is a way to get the king’s pardon, they will think of it, and if they gain it, Hugo will still want Sorcha as his wife to get her castle. I must prevent this.”
Graham nodded. “Aye, I agree.” He studied Cameron for a long moment. “In truth, ’tis a good thing ye wish to marry her.”
“Aye,” Cameron agreed. “It is.”
They returned to the castle near dawn, and Cameron went straight to Sorcha’s bedchamber. He didn’t care what anyone might say. If things went according to the plan he had outlined for Graham not long ago, she would be his wife very soon. He knocked on her door, not wishing to simply barge in, and before he could take a breath, the door swung open. His chest tightened with relief at what her face revealed.
Her eyes brimmed with warmth and happiness. She closed the distance between them and threw herself into his arms, circling her own around his waist and laying her cheek against his chest. “I was scairt ye would nae come to me.”
He kissed the top of her silky head while trailing his fingers along her bare arms. “From this day forward, I will always come to ye,” he assured her.
She looked up at him. “Ye may nae always feel that way,” she replied, guilt soaking her tone. She was too guileless in her heart to successfully hide the part of the truth she had attempted to keep from him, but he’d not point that out now.
He tipped her face farther up and, leaning down, brushed his lips to her soft ones. “I will always feel that way.”
“What…what if,” she hedged, and he tensed with hope that she would reveal something that would give him further proof of what he believed she hid and why, “I hid something from ye so ye would nae get hurt? What if I lied to ye? Would ye still care for me?”
The need to tell her that he loved her burned through him, but he held it back. He didn’t fear that she would not want to hear it, he feared what further lengths she would go to with her efforts to protect him if she understood just what lengths he would go to in order to protect her. “I would still care for ye, Sorcha.” He brushed the back of his hand over the delicate slope of her cheekbone, savoring the raw pleasure such a simple thing gave him.
A strong ache to pick her up, carry her to the bed, and love her overwhelmed him, but he could not give in to the temptation—not yet. He needed to uncover as much information as he could to guide his course of action to safeguard their future together. He took her hand and led her to a chair in the corner of her bedchamber. He sat down and pulled her into his lap. “Tell me of yer family.”
She frowned. “I already told ye what my father did.” She bit her lip. “I take it ye did nae find my attacker?” Her voice sounded as if it were strung as tight as a bow.
He shook his head, hating to lie but knowing the truth may well push her to flee. He was extremely grateful that he no longer had such a lack of faith in himself that he could now understand that when someone tried to protect him, it did not mean they did not have faith in him. It meant they cared.
A knot formed in his throat. “Nay,” he finally replied, watching her worried face relax, “we did nae capture yer attacker.” He slipped his hand up her back to press her closer. “Tell me of yer sister?” he asked, beginning his probe.
She shook her head. “My father married Constance off to a man four times her age, despite her protest and dismay. I imagine he’d do the same to me if he got the chance.”
Anger at her father simmered. “He’ll nae get the opportunity.”
“Nay, he’ll not,” she agreed, but something in her eyes, a sudden wariness, told him that she did not expect her marriage to be one of her choosing. Had she resigned herself, then, to the fate of the king’s whim? Or did she think Cameron would not want her to be his wife once he learned she had hidden the truth from him? He squeezed her arm gently, offering silent comfort for that which he could not yet chance putting into words.
“Are ye close to yer sister?” he asked instead.
Sorcha nodded. “Aye. We still write. Or we did… She is verra unhappy, but I dunnae see what can be done now that she is wed.”
“I have to agree,” he replied, thinking of his own plan. “It is much harder to undo a marriage than to stop a marriage from ever happening. What of yer brother?”
She glanced down at her lap, twisting the material of her gown. “We were close once,” she whispered. “He used to be so loving and kind. He looked after me and Constance. He was gentle, nae a warrior, and my father did nae let him forget it for a minute. Father twisted him so much I hardly could believe what he had become, the betrayal he was capable of. It breaks—er,broke—my heart,” she continued, still looking down. “I was better than he was with daggers, at archery, and riding horses. He became jealous and bitter, and he developed a terrible cruel streak. Still, I have hope for him,” she said vehemently. “He has seen the horrible error of his ways and fled to—” She abruptly stopped speaking. “He’s fled away from Father and vowed to go somewhere safe to redeem himself.”
He grasped her hand in his, moved by the sorrow and naive hope in her voice, and just as his fingers curled around her slender ones, a tear splashed against his hand. He had to clench his teeth against responding, for fear she’d quit speaking. He wanted to kill her brother, and he was almost certain that was one of the things she feared, one of the things that had driven her to help him and lie about it.
“The king,” Cameron said carefully, “may believe yer brother was involved in the plot to kill Katherine. He may order yer brother to be hunted.”
Her gaze flew to his, fear etched on her own. “Ye dunnae believe he would still demand yer life if ye dunnae bring him my brother, do ye? Surely, he will be happy with securing my father and the others who actually devised the plot, and Hugo who shot Katherine.”
