Page 59 of Bound to a Highland Beast
Sometimes it was easy to believe that Isabeau was right, that he was worthy of her love, but others it was impossible to convince himself of it. This was one of the latter, when doubt crept into his mind and paralyzed him, forcing him into inaction.
It was a strange feeling for someone like him, who was so used to rapid and fearless decisions. He was formidable in the face of danger, never once slowing down, but when it came to love, he couldn’t help but think of himself as a coward.
If he was truly brave, he would march up to the castle and declare to anyone who cared to listen that he and Isabeau were in love and anyone who wished to do so could try and separate them, and then see how that would end for them. But in reality, he dreaded the moment he would meet her brothers and the council. He dreaded the thought that with one word, they could have him hanged and Isabeau married to another man.
In the end, that was the truth, even if it pained him. All his life, Tiernan and men like him had been powerless against the noble classes. What could he do if her brothers were against their love? He couldn’t fight them; he couldn’t fight an entire army on his own.
Will Alaric understand? Will he be on our side?
This question had plagued Tiernan ever since he had told Isabeau of his desire to marry her. Alaric had always seemed like a decent man to him; he had even been the one to give him a place in the castle as a blacksmith, helping him escape the Ravencloaks. Not only, that but he, too, was married to a woman who had once been an outlaw. He and Isabeau weren’t so different and yet, he could make decisions for himself, while Isabeau was chained to the decisions of others.
“Come,” Isabeau said, placing her hands over his on the reins to guide the horse forward. “It is worse if we delay it.”
Tiernan didn’t know if that was necessarily true. If he could, he would delay this forever, freezing them both in this moment so he never had to face the possibility that they could take Isabeau away from him. Even so, he let Isabeau guide the horse towards the castle once more, surrendering himself to whatever fate awaited him.
If it was the gallows, then so be it. He would never stop loving her; he would never stop wanting to be her husband.
Once at the gates, the two guards who stood sentinel there instantly recognized Isabeau, calling to their fellow soldiers on the curtain walls to open the gates. One of them rushed inside, running like a madman, and Tiernan knew precisely where he was going—to notify Laird Ewan MacGregor, Isabeau’s brother, that they had returned.
No sooner had he and Isabeau entered the castle grounds and dismounted the horse than Ewan and Alaric appeared at the main doors of the keep, staring at them both with wide eyes, their mouths hanging open in shock. And no sooner had Isabeau taken a step towards them than Ewan unseated the sword on his hip and charged at Tiernan, red-faced and furious, just as Tiernan had expected.
Had it not been for Alaric and Isabeau both lunging at him to stop him in his tracks, Tiernan would have been dead in moments. He never even had the desire to fight, to protecthimself. He knew that if he so much as tried, his death would be much worse than if he simply accepted it, all the guards jumping in to defend their laird.
Tiernan watched as Alaric held Ewan still, his arms wrapped tightly around his torso, as Isabeau spoke to him in hushed tones. Tiernan couldn’t tell what she was saying—her voice was too low and she was turned away from him, but whatever she was telling her brother seemed to work. Slowly, Ewan’s grip on his sword loosened and he sagged in Alaric’s arms, the fight draining out of him.
Tiernan had seen Isabeau in action before. He had seen how she could sway whole groups of people, getting them to do as she pleased, but he had never thought it would work on the laird himself. It turned out that even he wasn’t immune to the talents of his sister, whose words could soothe as easily as they could inflame.
All three MacGregors glanced at Tiernan then and he couldn’t help but think their stares were oddly uncanny when they all looked at him at the same time. After a moment of further discussion, Isabeau rushed to him, her tone apologetic as she spoke.
“Me braither requests that ye come with us, but he wishes tae speak tae me first,” she said. “But dinnae fash… he promised tae put the sword away.”
That wasn’t much of a relief, not when Tiernan was almost certain he would end up dead by the end of it all anyway.Still, he had no other choice but to follow the siblings into the keep, through the opulent corridors and all the way to what he assumed to be the laird’s study, by the small glimpse he caught of the room before the door was shut right in his face.
It was his first time in the keep. Tiernan had never been there before, since he didn’t really have any business being there, and as he was following the others there, he didn’t have the chance to look around either. It was only now that he was alone in the hallway, left to wait there while the others discussed the situation as though his opinion didn’t even matter, that he had the time to look around and take in his surroundings, marveling at the displays of wealth.
Heavy, ornate tapestries covered parts of the wall, depicting scenes from hunts and natural motifs. Other walls were decorated with portraits of people Tiernan could only assume had once been important to the clan. There was even a full armor in the corner, old but shined to perfection, the finish like a mirror.
I wonder who spends his days polishin’ that.
Time trickled by slowly as Tiernan waited for the others to finish their discussion. Eventually, he ran out of things to observe and was left with nothing but his thoughts. There was not even a single guard in sight, no one to whom he could turn for some conversation, for anything that would distract him from the agony of waiting.
And so, he waited and waited—and then waited some more. When the door of the laird’s study finally opened, it was Isabeau who stood at the other side and soon she joined him in the hallway as she closed the door behind her.
She had hardly managed to leave the room when Tiernan grasped her shoulders, pulling her close to examine her expression, only to find that it was unreadable.
“What did they say?” he asked. He both dreaded and needed the answer. He couldn’t wait any longer. He felt as though his heart was about to burst right out of his chest and fall on the floor by his feet. The past few minutes—as it had to have been minutes, even though it had felt like hours—had been the worst torture he had ever had to endure in his life.
“They… didnae,” Isabeau said with a small frown. “I told them what I had tae tell them. They listened and they asked me a lot of questions. I told them how ye protected me and saved me life more than once. I also told them that you offered yer life in exchange for me freedom. Then they asked me tae step outside so they could discuss it.”
Isabeau didn’t seem particularly pleased with the outcome, and Tiernan couldn’t blame her. She had come to the castle with the firm belief that her brothers would listen to her, that they would immediately agree to this marriage, but Tiernan had not been fooled by this optimism. It was only natural that they wouldn’t agree. In fact, it was a wonder they needed to discuss it at all. He had thought they would simply kick him out and be done with him.
He didn’t say any of this to Isabeau, though. Even if the foundations of her optimism had been shaken to their core, he could see that she still held onto some hope Tiernan would be accepted in the family. He only held her tightly, waiting with her in silence as Ewan and Alaric discussed the matter.
It wasn’t long before the door opened once more, and this time, Alaric stood at the other side, beckoning them both closer. Tiernan exchanged a quick glance with Isabeau, each looking to the other for strength, before they stepped into the room hand in hand. At the other end, Ewan sat behind his large oak desk, looking every bit as regal as Tiernan imagined a king would be. Alaric moved next to him, standing by his side, the two men looking at him like a pair of hawks that were sizing him up, wondering if he was as tasty as he looked.
“Isabeau told us ye had the audacity tae ask fer her hand in marriage,” said Ewan, and that was enough to tell Tiernan everything he needed to know. They would not allow this; they would do anything to separate them.
But now, in Ewan’s study, with Isabeau’s hand in his, Tiernan found the strength to look him in the eye and know that he would do anything in order to stay with Isabeau. He didn’t care what it would take; no matter what, he was determined to do it.
