Bits of the tale was familiar to Ewan from his own boyhood. But then, it had been Ragnall who would have been told the full details in his training to become chieftain.
Ewan framed his hand over the document and tapped it with his fingertips. “I dinna want to give this land to Ross. I’d prefer to deed it to yer eldest son, Drake.”
“It will anger Ross.” Cait’s brows furrowed, and a small line appeared on the skin between them, the same as Faye when she was in deep concentration.
“But it willna breach the marriage contract I signed with Ross the night I wed Faye.”
Cait’s mouth curled up at the edges. “Nay, it willna.”
“Then, it will be done.” Ewan pulled the stones from the corners and let the parchment roll up. But he hesitated to send Cait on her way.
He cleared his throat. “I want ye to know, I dinna have any part in forcing Faye to marry me.”
“I know.” Cait cast him a sympathetic look. “I spoke with her this morn while we were breaking our fast.” She leaned forward in her seat and put a slender hand on his forearm. “Faye told me how ye tried to help her. Thank ye for that.”
Ewan simply nodded in acknowledgement. After all, his efforts hadn’t been helpful.
Cait released him and drew her arm back. “Why did she agree to her grandda’s wishes?”
“I take it she dinna tell ye?” Ewan secured the rolled parchment with a string and placed it into the drawer at his side.
Cait shook her head. “Nay. And she’s no’ ever been one to desire marriage, so ye understand my confusion.”
Ewan remembered how Faye had stood proudly at his side when they met her family as if she were a woman who had wanted to wed rather than a captive forced into marriage. No doubt, she did not want her sisters to know she had done so to save them. “If she wishes to tell ye, she will,” he replied.
She smiled. “Aye, I’m sure.”
The fire crackling in the hearth filled the gap of silence while Ewan warred with indecision on whether to tell Cait about the option he’d presented to Faye. Her mother would most likely ensure Faye genuinely considered the choice. Regardless of what Faye decided, he wanted to ensure it was one she had thought through.
He tapped a finger on the glossy surface of his desk. “Did she mention anything else to ye this morn?”
Cait lifted her chin. “Do ye mean how ye have given her the option to come home with us and return once a year to ye?”
Ewan tensed, unsure if he was relieved Faye had shared the information with her mother, or fearful. “Aye. She’s no’ happy here. I dinna realize how much until I saw her with all of ye.”
Cait glanced at her lap. “Faye doesna share her thoughts readily.” She spoke slowly, as though considering her words before speaking. “I dinna know if ye remember her as a lass, but she wasna always this way. When my husband died, it was difficult for us all. But when our neighbors turned on us, that was what hurt Faye the most. It wasna her da’s death that changed her; it was the people’s betrayal.”
Ewan settled back in his chair. It made sense how she had tried to keep him at arm’s length, how she was so slow to share parts of herself. How she turned to lust and pleasure rather than conversations about who she was and what she wanted.
Cait got to her feet. “If ye asked if I knew about yer proposal to Faye in the hope I would sway her decision, I’ll tell ye ’tis a waste of time. The lass is too stubborn to be moved whatever way she doesn’t want to go.”
Ewan quickly stood as well, and Cait regarded him affectionately. “But if I had a choice myself, I would want her to stay here,” she said.
“Ye would?”
“She has happiness at Castleton, but it’s precarious,” Cait replied. “Here, I believe she can have happiness, security and love. She’s lucky to have a man such as ye in her life.” She inclined her head and swept from the solar, quietly closing the door behind her.
Ewan lowered himself to his chair and studied the closed door as Cait’s words played through his mind, warring once more with the indecision of what Faye would choose. And how it would impact both their lives.
Only time would tell.
15
The sun bathed over Faye’s face as her thoughts flitted once more to Ewan. In the distance, Kinsey fired arrows into the tree as Clara offered advice on her aim. Mayhap Faye ought to be listening to the instruction as well, but it was too difficult to do when the choice he’d given her weighed on her mind so heavily.
It should have been an easy decision to make. After all, she’d had no choice in coming to the Highlands. But every time she recalled her small bed at the manor in Castleton, tucked in the corner of a room she shared with her sisters, her chest rang with hollowness.
Mayhap she’d gotten too used to Ewan’s arms around her, his warmth drawing her into the cradle of sleep, his scent all around her, familiar and comfortable. She’d begun to enjoy how he always asked what she liked and what she wanted and waited with genuine interest in the answer. She knew all the things he enjoyed too and delighted in doing them, relishing in his pleasure.
He was a man of honor and character, who handled his people with genuine care, a man whose smile made her heart stagger. Fie! It was too many things to list at once.
An arrow flashed across the meadow and sank into the grass next to Faye.
She jerked away from it and glared at Kinsey, who stood fifty paces away with her hand on her hip and a smirk on
