She laughed. “I know. Your love helped me find my courage. Ye believed in me and I knew ye would never doubt me, no matter what vile lies Darcy told. I didn’t need to see your face, or even feel your touch. It was enough to know ye were there. I love ye with all my heart, Tadhg.” She kissed him again.
Before he was ready to let her go there was a knock at their door, so rather than moving her from his lap he called, “Enter.” The door practically flew open as her parents rushed into the room. Her mother’s eyes were still red and swollen from crying and Mairead leapt up immediately to try and comfort her.
“Mama, I am so sorry.”
“Mairead, love, ye are not the one who needs to be sorry. I should have known. Years ago, I should have known something horrible happened to ye. My poor bairn, I’m the one who should be sorry. Ye must have been so afraid. Dear God, how did I not know? I would run the swine through with your father’s sword if it weren’t for that dreadful vow.”
“Brigid, love, I never knew ye had such a bloodthirsty side,” Cathal jested weakly.
“He hurt my child! If I ever have the chance, I swear he’ll pay.”
“I don’t know, Brigid, Mairead did a rather nice job of emasculating him today on her own.” Wrapping his arms around Mairead, he said, “My precious wee lass, ye were magnificent. When I think, I nearly married ye to the bastard. God’s teeth, lass, ye should have told us.”
“I know, Da. I’m sorry. I was young and afraid. I just wanted to pretend it never happened. I didn’t even know who he was until today.”
“Aye, I suppose I understand that. And ye, Matheson, ye never wavered. Ye never doubted her.”
“Did ye?” Tadhg asked.
“Nay, of course not, she is my daughter. I know her. I love her. I never believed him for a moment.”
“Cathel, she is my wife. I know her. I love her, too. Like ye, I never believed him for a moment.”
Twenty Four
Finola was near panic as Hamish escorted her and Meriel back to their encampment. The laird was furious, and when they arrived and her father found out, he was too.
He went white and barely spoke to her. “Go to your tent and stay there,” he ordered.
She went with Meriel to their tent, but she did not plan to stay there. She had intentionally delivered Lady Matheson into Darcy Fraser’s hands. The fact that she believed Darcy wouldn’t harm Lady Matheson would mean nothing. The whole clan had opposed the wedding, hadn’t they? But now no one would believe she only wanted to help the laird see his bride’s true nature. She could be beaten or banished and she would not sit quietly and wait to find out which it would be. The long summer days meant the evening was still bright but Meriel had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Finola managed to slip out of the tent and away from the encampment unseen.
Once away, she had no idea where to go. Darcy had been nice to her. She liked him. He hadn’t hurt her, well, not more than any lass’s first time, she guessed. It was hard for her to believe he would force Lady Matheson when she was willing. No, that couldn’t be. Lady Matheson must have lied to save herself. Finola decided to try to find Darcy. He would help her. He would protect her. After all, she had protected him by admitting to being with him.
She made her way through the gathering twilight to the Fraser encampment. She didn’t see Darcy, but his cousin Guthrie stood alone, brooding. She approached him. “Excuse me, sir, I am looking for Darcy.”
“Well, lass, ye needn’t look here. He is an unwilling ‘guest’ in the castle.”
“Why?”
“Oh, it’s just the wee matter of a severely injured MacKenzie.”
“But Darcy didn’t do it. I told Laird MacIan that.”
Guthrie looked more closely at her, recognition dawning. “Ye are the Matheson lass he tupped. Aye, ye pulled his arse out of that fire.”
“And in so doing, I landed myself in serious trouble.”
“Aye, I’ll warrant ye did.”
“I was hoping he could help me. My father and my laird are not likely to forgive what I did, but I did it for him. Surely he can help me.”
Guthrie’s expression held only pity. “Lass, ye’d be well advised not to seek his help. He is not likely to put himself out for ye, no matter what ye’ve done for him. Ye’d be better off trusting your own kin.”
“Laird Matheson is furious, so is my father. There is no one else to turn to,” she wailed.
“Aye, I expect they are furious. Laird Fraser might have parted your head from your shoulders if he had been your laird. Still, Matheson is rumored to be fair. Perhaps a beating is all you’ll get. Go back to your clan, lass. It is the best thing ye can do. There is nothing for ye here.”