Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

D arren grimaced as yet another uneven spot in the path resulted in Alayne’s elbow jabbing him painfully in the ribs. He’d known she was displeased at being ordered to accompany him, and angry about being forced to share a saddle with him, but he hadn’t expected how determined she’d be to make her displeasure known. At this rate, his ribs were going to be black and blue before they even reached the waterfall, let alone returned to MacLean Keep.

On the other hand, he supposed he should have expected this. Their wedding had shown him that she was more than willing to indicate her unhappiness in the most uncomfortable ways possible for him.

He’d regretted his decision to force the matter the moment he saw the furious, almost betrayed look in her eyes. The only thing that had stopped him from retracting his demand was the knowledge that he would lose her respect, and that of his people, if he gave in so easily. He also didn’t want her to think she could manipulate him so casually, or that a simple display of temper would be enough to sway his mind.

He’d considered ordering a second horse, but then there was no telling what she would have done, or if she would have stayed with him. He wouldn’t put it past her to deliberately try to lose him, just to show her anger. The only way to prevent it would have been to tie her horse to his, like a parent restraining a child’s training mount. He doubted she would have accepted that with any more grace.

Knowing those things, however, did not mean he wanted to let the matters stand as they were. The point of this journey was to help them develop a better relationship, not a more poisonous one. He thought for a moment, then cleared his throat. “What’s yer favorite color?”

It was an inane question, but it broke the silence and startled her into looking over her shoulder at him. “What?”

“I wasnae joking when I said I wanted tae get tae ken ye better. Asking after yer preferences seems a fair place tae start.”

“And why should I want tae answer?”

“Aside from making sure I ken yer preferences, so ye can take me tae task if I dinnae remember them?” He paused. “Fer every question ye answer, ye can ask one in return.”

“Of the same ilk, I suppose.”

He suspected he would regret his next words, but he spoke them anyway. “Nae. Ye can ask anything ye like. So long as ‘tis nae a matter tae dae with clan security, I give ye me word I’ll answer honestly.”

She considered that for a moment, then replied. “I like blue. The color o’ the sky on a sunny day.” A beat of hesitation. “Dae ye have any issues with performance in the bed chamber?”

Did she really ask that?

“Nae so far as I ken. Though I suppose if I were drunk enough, I might. ‘Tis said tae be a thing that happens tae men, but ‘tis nae something I’ve experienced.” Marcus had been the more inclined to drinking of all his father’s children, before he’d decided to sober up, and even he had never seemed to have problems in that department.

He was tempted to ask why blue was her favorite color, but opted for something more neutral. “Dae ye have a favorite food?”

“Aye. Berry tarts with fresh cream or honey.” There was a moment of silence, and then, to his surprise, she added “My brother used tae make sure I had a plate o’ them fer me birthday every year. Wasnae always easy, but he did it. One time, he even climbed a tree fer the honeycomb himself. Came back covered in welts from the stings, but he was so proud o’ himself.”

Berry tarts with honey or cream or both. He made a note to be sure he had some for her birthday, even if he had to order them specially from the mainland.

“What’s the most embarrassing thing ye’ve ever done?” Her question was soft, and some of the harshness of anger had gone out of her voice.

“Och, there’s nae end o’ stories there…” He was tempted to bring up the wedding, but decided against it. “There was the first time I got drunk, but I think all boys coming tae manhood can tell that story, and ‘tis always the same. Fer me… I suppose it was dealing with me braithers.”

“How do ye mean?” She sounded genuinely curious.

“I kent both me braithers were in love with their lasses long afore they did. Or at least, afore they were willing tae admit it. I got so frustrated with the pair o’ them moon-calfing around the matter that I actually pretended tae be falling in love with the lasses meself, just tae provoke them intae admitting the truth. Earned me a sore jaw both times, and I was the subject o’ gossip fer weeks after.”

Silence fell between them, and he wondered for a moment if he’d upset her, by reminding her of Keegan, and how that had led to the death of her father. She still seemed relaxed though, her shoulders and her seat both loose instead of ramrod stiff as they’d been in the beginning. He decided to dare a slightly more personal question, since she seemed to have no trouble asking him such things. “Why are ye afraid o’ heights?”

She stiffened, and he wondered if he’d pushed too far, too hard. But just as fast as the tension had come, it started to ease. Her voice was subdued, but not angry, when she spoke. “I used tae follow me faither and braither around when I was a wee child. One day, I followed them up tae the parapets - I dinnae even remember why they were up there. But at one point, me faither turned and he knocked me over. I fell off the parapet ledge on the inner courtyard… if it hadnae been fer a quick guard, I’d have fallen the whole way. I dinnae think I’d have survived. I’ve been afraid ever since.”

If the elder Ranald weren’t already dead, Darren would cheerfully have strangled him. “I’m sorry ye had that experience.”

“’Twasnae the worst one.” A pause. “What’s the worst thing yer faither ever did tae ye?”

He was surprised she didn’t know the story. Then again, perhaps she did, but had forgotten it. Or maybe her father had kept it from her, thinking she might refuse to honor the contract if she’d known.

He hated reliving those memories, but he’d promised to answer honestly, so he did. “Killing me maither and forcing me tae kill him tae save me braither.”

“What?” her voice was shocked, as well it might be.

“Isnae a pretty tale, but I’ll tell it if ye wish.”

There was a long pause, and then she spoke softly. “Aye. Please.”

He took a moment to get his thoughts in order, before he began. “Me faither wasnae always a bad man, but he started drinking, and he was a cruel man when the drink was in him. Over the years, the drinkin’ got worse, and so did his temper.”

It still hurt, remembering those years of watching his stern but fair father turn into a monster, consumed by the demons he found at the bottom of a flagon.

“Me maither - she wasnae happy, but neither could she leave him. Eventually though, she sought comfort from my uncle, and it became something more tan just that. I dinnae ken how long they spent sneaking around fer their trysting behind me faither’s back, but ‘twas long enough that there’s question o’ whose son me braither Keegan truly was. It doesnae matter tae me, but when me faither heard the whispers and learned he’d been cuckolded, the thought he might be raising another man’s son drove him mad. He swore he’d kill all o’ them - me maither, me uncle, and Keegan.”

“But yer braither is alive.”

“Aye, but at a cost.” Darren heard the leaden tone to his voice, but there was no point in trying to change it. “Faither killed me uncle, Cathal, and left Adrian - me war leader, who is also me cousin - without a family. I tried tae save me maither, but I failed her. Faither beat her badly. I managed tae get her away, but she died later o’ the wounds he inflicted upon her.”

He swallowed back the bitter tang that speaking of the incident always brought to his mouth. “He tried tae break intae the healer’s cottage tae finish the job, and I had tae stop him. He was swearing he’d kill her, then find Keegan and kill him. There was nae reasoning with him, so we fought. In the end, I was forced tae kill him tae end the madness. I didnae plan it. It just… happened.”

He didn’t tell her how Keegan had spent years hating him for that, or how his younger brother had run away in disgust at his actions, not knowing the full reason behind them. Nor how he’d gotten his first tattoos to cover the scars of that fight, and the shame he felt that he hadn’t been able to save any of them. Those were his memories and his burdens to bear.