Page 67 of The Shadow Path
“Aye, I do.” He stretched out his legs and set them on the low table in front of the fire. “I missed you last night, but you looked like you were having fun.”
“I’ve never danced with that many women before. I was a little worried about stepping on toes that weren’t covered in big heavy boots.”
Lachlan’s eyes twinkled. “I don’t know. Godrik’s sister had boots on, I’m sure of it.”
“I believe she did.” She leaned back in the chair and watched him. The room was dim, and most of the light came from the fire and the narrow windows that illuminated the old library. “There are rumors swirling that you came down to Anglia to cement your position as the Alban heir to the throne.”
Lachlan’s eyes didn’t move from the fire. “I came to Anglia to see you.”
“And attend Harold’s coronation.”
“Yes. We grew up together.”
“And cement your position?”
He frowned. “It’s not… a single thing, Carys. Nothing in my life is ever wholly for one reason or another. There are layers to everything I have to do. The one time that I did exactly what I wanted and only what I wanted was when I left the Shadowlands to find you.” He blinked and finally looked at her. “And obviously that didn’t turn out the way I expected either.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So your brother Rory is angling for the throne.”
“Yes, he is.” Lachlan leaned toward the fire. “I have a feeling he knew what Seren’s and my plans were when we married. He’s a bright boy, and he grew up in Dafydd’s court. It’s very possible he knew our plan was to hand the Alban throne to him when my father died, and even after Seren was killed, he decided he wanted it.”
“And you don’t want to hand it over anymore?”
He looked into her eyes. “Do you love me?”
Carys blinked. “I loved you very much, and you know that.”
“But do you love me now? You are nêrys ddraig, but obviously you and Cadell have made things work in California. You have a life there. You’re not going to take the Cymric throne; I don’t care what Dafydd’s dreams are.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“So do you love me, Carys? Do you want me?” He leaned forward. “You say the word and I hand it to Rory. When my father dies, I’ll give him the throne. I’ll move back to California and leave all this.”
“And you wouldn’t miss it? You wouldn’t feel like you were abandoning your responsibilities?”
A muscle under Lachlan’s eye twitched, but he said nothing.
Carys leaned toward him. “It’s not a simple thing. You said it yourself. Nothing you do is ever only for one reason. And Lachlan, I respect that. I maybe…” She laughed a little bit. “I maybe respect you more than I did before, because I see you stepping into that role. I see you sacrificing your own wishes to do what you think is right and necessary for the people you might rule.”
“You respect me,” he said quietly. “But do you love me?”
She blinked back tears. “I don’t know anymore.”
“That’s fair,” he whispered. “I don’t expect things to be the way they were. They can’t be.” His forehead wrinkled in thought. “And I see the way you look at Duncan. I see the way he looks at you.” Lachlan closed his eyes. “He’s a good man, Carys. He would… he would do anything for you. He could be anyone for you. Anyone you needed him to be.”
She sniffed. “I don’t want anyone to be anything other than themselves. I don’t want you to change yourself for me. I don’t want Duncan to either.”
Lachlan leaned back, and his eyes smiled at her with a wisdom that made Carys feel young and foolish. “But that is life, mo chridhe. We all grow and change. We all have to bend. Only children expect the world to revolve around their wishes.”
“I don’t expect the world to revolve around my wishes, but I want to find my own path. I need to find my own path.”
Lachlan’s eyes were warm and glowing. “When you find it—because you will—you let me know if you want my company walking with you.”
Carys staredat the wood beyond the meadows where black-faced sheep were grazing.
The magic of the Shadowlands was unsettled. There was tension. She was too new to magic to have felt it, but Laura had perceived it immediately.
Like a fault line before a quake.
