“Diarmad, I think we all agree with her,” said Cairbre dryly.
“Agree with what?” Niall snapped.
“Begging your pardon, that ye’re a blind idiot, Laird,” answered Alan.
Niall simply rubbed his temples and said, “Oh that, aye, that has been fairly well established.”
~ * ~
When Niall entered their chamber, he found Katherine sitting on the hearth hugging her knees to her chest with her head on them and he knew she had been crying. She had pulled her kertch off and it lay on the floor beside her. He went to her and gently pulled her up off the floor, putting his arms around her, saying, “Katherine, I’m sorry.”
“I can’t do this anymore,” Katherine said, so softly he could barely hear her.
“Can’t do what anymore?”
“I can’t love ye. Father James was wrong. This hurts too much and I can’t do it anymore.”
“Katherine, please don’t say that.”
“Why, Niall? At dinner, on the day we arrived here, ye told Cairbre your heart was never part of this bargain, but I had already given ye mine. Nothing I do or say seems to convince ye of that. Ye seem determined to punish me for the other women who have hurt ye. I thought I could stand anything, but the pain ye inflict is more than I can bear.”
Niall knew he deserved that. “Katherine, I’m sorry, I was wrong.”
“Aye, ye were,” Katherine agreed, her voice catching, “but this pattern doesn’t change, ye are always willing to believe the worst about the people who love ye the most. Fingal can leave. I can’t. I have to protect myself. I don’t want to love ye anymore.” Her voice broke with a harsh sob.
Those words cut him deeply. “Katherine, please, ye don’t mean that. Sweetling, I do love ye. I love ye with all my heart. Ye are right, I didn’t want to because I didn’t want to risk getting hurt as I had in the past. I know I have hurt ye and I am sorry. Please, Katherine, forgive me. Tell me I haven’t lost ye,” he said desperately. He tipped her chin up, looking directly into her tear-filled eyes. The pain he saw rent his heart. “Katherine, I need ye. Please don’t stop loving me.”
She sobbed again, “I don’t think I could stop loving ye if I tried, but don’t do this to me again. It will kill me.” She was unable to force back her tears any longer.
He pulled her close again and buried his head in her hair. “Wheesht, lass.”
Twenty One
January had been unusually cold and stormy but not within his keep, thought Niall. It had been three weeks since he had admitted to himself he was hopelessly in love with his bonny wife, and she with him. He basked in the heat of that love. Several nights ago, under the crystal clear sky that follows a storm, he had led a successful raid against Matheson, replacing most of the livestock that had been slaughtered. However, he had spent the other nights with Katherine in his arms. Her passion continued to thrill him. He thought the sight of his delicate wife lying in his arms, cloaked only in her soft honey-colored curls, looking drowsy and replete after their love-making was the most beautiful sight on earth. The thought made him grin as he stared into the fire in the great hall.
“Ye haven’t been listening, have ye?” asked Diarmad.
“Nay, I’m sorry, I was distracted,” Niall said, his grin widening. “What were ye saying?”
“I was saying,” Diarmad said indulgently, “things have been quiet since we increased the number and frequency of patrols on the border. Maybe the show of strength is all it will take.”
“Let’s hope so,” said Niall, but he didn’t believe the trouble with Matheson was over.
Moments later he received a message from the watch. A small group of men approached Duncurra under the MacLennan banner.
“Malcolm is returning so soon? That’s odd,” said Niall.
Diarmad chuckled, “Perhaps not. When he was here, he spent most of his time in Lady Eithne’s company. Maybe he will rid ye of that thorn in your side by marrying her.”
“One can only hope,” answered Niall.
~ * ~
When Malcolm arrived, it was not to visit Eithne, and he did not bring good news. “Niall, I came as soon as I heard. The daughter of one of my clansmen, who is married to a Matheson, tells me they are planning something at Candlemas or there about. Matheson may be planning a siege on Duncurra.”
“A siege?” said Niall with incredulity. “In the dead of winter?”
“He believes ye to be weakened and unable to withstand a siege for long.”
“Why would he think that?” asked Cairbre. “Duncurra is more secure and has better resources than it has had for several years.”