Chapter 19

"Idinnae think I can marry ye."

It wasn't what Macauley had expected to hear. Here he was, a sworn bachelor who had claimed time and time again that he would never marry, finally having the woman of his dreams by his side, only to find out that she didn't want to marry him.

It was just his luck that Cathleen would reject him, though he couldn't understand why. She had told him she loved him. She had come to him time and time again, seeking his company, his touch. If she loved him like she claimed, then why would she not want to marry him?

"What?" he asked rather dumbly, blinking in surprise. Cathleen hesitated. Slowly, she grabbed the edge of the sheets, pulling them over her as though she suddenly felt too exposed, nude as she was. Her gaze wouldn't meet Macauley's own and her fingers fidgeted nervously with the corner of the blanket, as though she could hardly bear to sit still.

For a long time, she said nothing and Macauley couldn't bring himself to speak either. What was there to say now that she had rejected him? He couldn't take back his proposal nor could he pretend that he didn't want it either. He had laid out all his cards on the table with the kind of confidence that he probably shouldn't have had.

In the silence that followed his question, he thought back to all his encounters with Cathleen, no matter how small, desperately searching for a clue that she hadn't been feeling the same way as he did all this time. Perhaps if he could find something that pointed towards this, he could unshackle himself from this uncertainty, but no matter how much he searched, he found nothing to suggest she didn't see him the way he saw her.

When she spoke once more, finally breaking the silence, she did so quietly, her voice barely audible even in the silence of the room.

"I'm nae who ye think I am."

That wasn't what Macauley had expected to hear either. He frowned in confusion, trying to figure out what Cathleen could possibly mean by that.

"Who are ye, then?"

Cathleen took a deep breath, the sound labored as if it pained her. Then, she looked him in the eye, the contact jarring after avoiding his gaze for so long.

"Me name is Cathleen MacLaren," she told Macauley, and then proceeded to tell him everything else. She told him about Laird Faolan MacLaren's plans, about how he had kidnapped Bonnie, about what the two sisters had been tasked with before coming to the castle. The entire time, Macauley listened in silence, stunned speechless even though all he wanted to do was yell out his frustration at Cathleen.

There was one thing he could never accept in a partner—lies. All he asked for was honesty and Cathleen knew that. She knew it because Macauley himself had told her not so long ago, and yet she had still chosen to betray him like this, to hide the truth from him, to play with his feelings.

She had known from the start that she should stay away from him and yet she had been selfish enough to lead him on and promise him she loved him, only to turn around now and stab him in the back. Did she expect she could simply put Deirdre and everyone else in danger like this and still have Macauley forgive her? Did she expect she could lie to him for all this time and still have his love?

Her betrayal was like a spear through the heart. Macauley pulled back from her, standing from the bed to put on some clothes, suddenly feeling too exposed himself. His stomach churned with disgust and after a few moments, he had to sit back down, the weight of Cathleen's betrayal too much to bear.

"I understand if ye hate me now," Cathleen said in a small voice. Macauley could feel her move behind him, approaching him where he sat on the edge of the bed, but he only pulled away once more, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible.

His chest constricted painfully and his hand flew to his heart, pressing against his chest. It felt as though his shoulders were crumbling into him, the weight of it all settling heavy on them.

The worst part of it all was that he didn't, in fact, hate her. He wanted to. He wanted nothing more than to look at her and feel nothing but repulsion, but he couldn't simply forget about all the joy she had given him in all the days they had spent with each other. Slowly, meticulously, he would have the love he still held for her out. There was no other way for him. He couldn't go on living like this.

It turned out he had been right all along, then. There had always been something strange about Cathleen and Bonnie, and he should have trusted his instincts no matter what Kian said. He should have recognized them as the threats they were. He should have done his job instead of allowing Cathleen to woo him like this, blind him with her charms.

"I can only ask ye tae forgive me," Cathleen said and for the first time they had met, Macauley couldn't help but wish she would simply stop talking. He didn't want to hear any of this. He had already heard enough. "I understand if ye cannae, though. What I did… it's unforgivable."

"Leave," he said. When Cathleen made no effort to move, he whipped his head around to pin her with a cold stare, trying to ignore the pang of pain at the sight of her. Tears were gathered in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill. She was holding onto the blanket desperately, as though it was the only thing keeping her anchored, and her gaze was filled with such despair that for a split second, Macauley had half a mind to comfort her before reminding himself of everything she had done. "Was any o' it even true? What else did ye lie tae me about? When ye said ye loved me, was that a lie, too?"

"Nay!" Cathleen was quick to say, reaching for his arm only for Macauley to snatch it out of her reach. Dejected, she sat back on the bed, burying her face in her hands for a moment. "It wasnae a lie, I swear it. I loved ye, Macauley. I still love ye. Naething will change that. Even if ye hate me, I will still love ye."

Macauley didn't know what to believe anymore. How could he know what was the truth and what was a lie when it seemed so easy to Cathleen to lie to him? What if she was still manipulating him? What if even this was a ploy orchestrated by Faolan MacLaren?

"Is what ye said about yer sister true?" Macauley asked, trying to keep his tone as indifferent as he could, letting no emotion seep into his tone. "Has Laird MacLaren taken her? Is her life in danger?"

"Aye," Cathleen said. Macauley could see the effort it took her to pull herself together, furiously wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. "Everythin' I am tellin' ye now is the truth. I have nae intention o' harmin' anyone here. I willnae let Faolan lay a hand on Deirdre."

Macauley nodded slowly. That, at least, seemed to be the truth and he couldn't see a way that revealing this plan to him could have somehow helped Laird MacLaren. Perhaps Cathleen had truly changed her mind.

"Very well," he said. "I will help ye find yer sister only because ye wish nae harm on Deirdre an' Kian. But after that, ye'll never come near us again."

Fresh tears streamed down Cathleen's cheeks, but she didn't try to argue. She only nodded in understanding and then stood, quickly pulling on her dress as well as she could in the few moments, she allowed herself to linger. Once she was done, Macauley looked at her, lips pursed into a thin line.

"Leave," he said once more. "If I wish tae speak with ye, I'll find ye. But I dinnae wish tae spend another moment in yer presence now."

Cathleen said nothing as she headed to the door. When she reached it, she turned around to give Macauley one last glance and for a second, it seemed as though she had something else to say. In the end, though, she only shook her head and left, a muffled sob echoing down the hallway.

The moment he was left alone, Macauley fell back on the mattress, gazing at the ceiling of his chambers. His thoughts were a scramble, all of them vying for attention in his head, but all he wanted to do was sleep and forget.

How could he do that, though, when the threat was still imminent? Faolan MacLaren was out there, planning his war, and until Macauley and Kian put an end to it, he would continue to be a threat to everyone they loved.

Such a war could be catastrophic. Even if the MacLaren Clan couldn't fight the Drummonds and their supporters without any help, there was no telling whose support Faolan MacLaren had managed to get or what other nefarious plans he had in stock. For all Macauley knew, he could be preparing to storm through the gates of the castle in that very moment, his other plans and the risk of losing a big part of both clans' populations be damned. From what Cathleen had told him, the man didn't seem to Macauley as someone who would care about the lives of innocent people. All he wanted was the glory and power that came with being the laird of the MacLaren Clan, and he would stop at nothing to keep that power.

He had to talk with Kian and the council. He had to make sure they were all prepared for what was to come, to have their defenses ready for the day when they would be attacked. Besides, he had promised Cathleen they would find Bonnie and he wasn't going to go back on his word. Though the two sisters were a big part of this and by no means innocent, Bonnie didn't deserve whatever fate awaited her in the hands of that man.

Macauley took off his clothes and cleaned himself in a rush before he dressed in fresh trews and left the room. It was late by then and Kian was surely already in his chambers, perhaps already sleeping, but this couldn't wait any longer. Much of their precious time had already been lost to ignorance and now that they had all the facts, they needed to set their own plans in motion.

When he met the first guard on his way to Kian's chambers, he told him to alert everyone in the council to gather in Kian's study as soon as they could. With a nod of understanding, the guard left to wake the men and Macauley continued on his way to Kian's chambers, heart leaping to his throat with every step.

We will get through this, too. We have yet tae be defeated. This is a war we can easily win.