He gently took her hand in his and pulled back her sleeve to reveal the red bands around her wrists where her shackle wounds had recently healed. “Ye dinna talk about it, but I know what ye went through was terrible.”
She turned her face away so he couldn’t see her expression as she recalled exactly how bad it had been. Aye, she didn’t talk about it. She hadn’t even wanted to think about it. Not when the memories were even more painful than the abuse.
“I thought I could make it better, that I could protect ye. But seeing ye tonight…” His voice caught and drew her attention back to him.
“Faye, ye were happy.” He ran a finger down her cheek in a delicate caress. “Truly happy. And ye’ve no’ been that way once since ye’ve been here. I’ll no’ commit ye to a life of misery.”
“I haven’t been miserable,” she protested.
“But nor have ye been happy.”
His statement plunged into her heart like a dagger. The impact carried so much pain, she almost gasped.
“I cannot leave,” she whispered. “If my grandda found out…”
“He won’t,” Ewan said so vehemently, she almost believed him.
“He would,” she replied. “If I left and never came back, he would know.”
Ewan went silent suddenly, and the impact of her own words hit Faye liked a punch.
If I left and never came back.
If she never saw him again. A fresh fission of pain ripped inside of her and warred with the ache of being away from her family. The sensation was new and unexpected.
And it had everything to do with the thought of losing Ewan.
She didn’t want to think of what the new tendril of emotion meant to her. Not when doing so might pry open her heart more than it had already been.
“Ye need a son,” she whispered.
He swallowed. “No’ at the expense of keeping ye here like a prisoner. I care for ye too much to have ye sacrifice everything for me.”
She studied him for a long, quiet moment. His expression confirmed the sincerity of his words, though she needed no proof. Somewhere along the way, she had begun to trust him. She knew how urgently he needed a son, another barrier between the chieftainship and Cruim.
And he was willing to give up that prospect for her happiness.
“I can’t.” She shook her head. “I can’t do this. It isn’t possible. I couldn’t deprive ye of a son. Not when the safety of the clan is at stake.”
His jaw clenched. “Ye could come back for visits as ye used to when ye were a bairn. Eventually, we would have a son and ensure Ross knew ye were here so he wouldna question our marriage.”
“Ewan…” She searched for words but found none when she couldn’t even sort through the clutter of her own thoughts. What he offered was more generous than any man in his position would.
It was a chance for her to return home. To be happy. And at great cost to himself.
“Dinna answer now,” he added quickly. “Think about it.”
She nodded, unable to tear her gaze from her husband. How could such a large man who appeared cut from stone have such tenderness in his heart? He was not only good to his people; he was good to her, putting her happiness before his own needs.
He drew her toward him and curled his strong arms around her once more, wrapping her in comfort she lost herself in. Yet it only made the agony in her chest twist tighter. This time, however, she understood the reason.
The wall she’d built around her heart, erected by a lifetime of pain and betrayal, had finally begun to crack.
Ewan wasn’t certain when to expect an answer from Faye. He hadn’t given her a date to reply, not when he wanted her to think it through and come to her own decision. Still, he could not clear it from his mind, alternating between fear at the certainty of losing her and hope that she would stay. In the end, he was proud of himself for having the courage to do what was right for her to ensure her happiness.
She was correct that he needed an heir, especially with Cruim having married Mistress Blair. The union did not sit well with him and continued to rankle him. He’d learned long ago not to ignore the feeling in his gut, and this one sat there like a boulder.
He reviewed the contract in front of him once more, the one that would deed Berwick to Ross. Only this time, Ewan had a plan.
A gentle knock sounded at the door.
He bade his guest enter and stood as Cait stepped in. “Thank ye for coming.” He bowed to her.
“Ye need no’ put on airs for me.” She waved her hand at him dismissively.
He indicated she have a seat while he came around his desk. “Ross claims to want a bit of land we own between the English and Scottish border. Do ye know why?”
She glanced down at the parchment, and her eyes flicked over the agreement, then rolled heavenward. “Ach, he’d be still after Berwick.” She sighed. “’Twas Ross land several ages ago but was taken from them by the English. ’Twas a sore spot for years that they were so soundly defeated, and they resolved to get it back. Except the English had fortified it so well, it wasna possible. Until Lady Isolde.”
“Lady Isolde?” Ewan sank into his chair.
“Aye, the land was part of her dowry,” Cait said. “But rather than wed a member of the Ross clan as she was supposed to, the Chieftain of the Sutherland clan swept her off her feet, killed the Ross clansman she was meant to wed and took the land for himself.” She shrugged. “It happened far before my time, but we’ve been fighting since, and my da has wanted
