Chapter 16

Evander wasn’t expecting to see May waiting outside the council chamber when they left, and by the look on his face, neither was Laird MacPherson. He was surprised to hear her words of accusation, and it was difficult not to take her into his arms when he realized she was distraught.

Laird MacPherson seemed dumbfounded for a moment, then he recovered. “’Tis best we speak o’ these matters in me study, where we’ll have privacy.”

The three of them made their way to the laird’s study. Evander closed and latched the door against intrusion, then wrapped his arm around May’s shoulders in a show of support. “I’m thinking ye owe us an explanation fer yer actions ten years ago.”

Laird MacPherson shifted uncomfortably. “I did what I thought was best fer everyone at the time. The best way tae keep everyone safe…”

“By making us both think we’d abandoned each other?” May broke free of Evander’s grip. “Why did ye nae ever give me letter tae Evander? Why did ye tell him that I’d walked away from him?”

Her voice cracked with her emotions, and Evander held himself still with an effort. As much as he wanted to demand his own answers, at sword-point if necessary, May deserved the option of confronting her father first. He had his own grievances on the matter of Laird MacPherson’s deceit, but matters between kinfolk came first.

Laird MacPherson looked as if he’d rather Evander be the one confronting him. “May…”

“All me life…” May interrupted her father, her voice catching unsteadily as she stepped forward. “All me life, ye’ve looked aside from me. As if I wasnae worth yer regard and yer attention. I wanted tae fault ye, tae hate ye fer it, but how could I, when ‘twas childbirth – me birth – that killed me maither. I kent ye likely hated me fer that. But… but I didnae think…”

Her breath stuttered on a sob, and both men moved to comfort her, but she pulled away, stepping back and sideways out of Evander’s arms as well as her father’s. “I always thought that even if... even if ye hated me fer maither’s death, I was still yer child. I’d always hoped that mattered, even if ye only saw me as a duty. I never thought ye’d despise me so much ye’d break my heart like that, tae say naething o’ what ye did tae Evander.”

Silence fell, broken only by the soft hitching of May’s breath as she struggled to control herself, tears streaking her face. Evander longed to step forward and take her in his arms. He wanted to hold her close and wipe away all those tears, to kiss her until she forgot her grief and her heartache.

Instead, he stayed where he was. May wouldn’t thank him for intruding on her discussion with her father, and the way she’d stepped away indicated she didn’t want his embrace just now.

Then Laird MacPherson spoke, his voice so soft and shocked that Evander wouldn’t have believed that it was the same man who’d barked orders at the Council if he hadn’t been watching as he spoke. “May, child, ye are me only daughter...I never hated ye. How could ye think that?”

May stared at her father. “Ye could never look at me. Ye so rarely turn tae me or speak tae me. How could I think otherwise?” She swallowed around a hard lump that made her throat ache. “I’ve thought since I was a child ye hated me fer stealing yer beloved from ye.”

“Never that.” Before she could move or respond, her father took two quick strides and wrapped her in his arms, to pull her close. May found herself tucked into his chest; in a way she hadn’t been since she was a wee bairn. “I never hated ye. I was being a grief-stricken old fool, but it wasnae hate that made me turn away from ye.”

“Then why?”

Her father sighed. “Ye’re the spitting image o’ yer mother, and every year, ‘tis more noticeable. Yer eyes, yer hair, the way ye walk... ye’re shyer and quieter than she was, but yer still so much like her that I couldnae bear it. At first, I had tae turn away from ye, because otherwise I couldnae maintain the composure expected o’ a laird.”

“But after…?”

“After a while, ‘twas habit. And it didnae help encourage me tae change me behavior that every time I mustered the courage tae see ye, ye only looked more like her.” His embrace tightened. “I was a coward. Every time I looked at ye, me grief and memories overwhelmed me.”

She wanted to believe him, and yet the memory of the letter remained foremost in her mind. She pulled back so she could look up at him. “But if ye loved me, then why would ye break me heart by keeping Evander away from me? Why tell him I didnae care fer him?”

Connor MacPherson sighed. “I was trying tae protect ye. I had a notion that MacDonell might seek ye out, tae try and force a marriage, or take ye hostage.” His eyes flickered to Evander, before coming back to her. “I was afraid that Evander would seek ye out. If he could find ye, then so could Scot MacDonell. I didnae want tae risk it.”

Evander spoke, for the first time since she’d stepped forward to confront her father. “And it didnae occur tae ye that if ye’d honored the betrothal request I sent ye and permitted the marriage, May would have been far safer in the arms o’ the Mackintosh clan?”

“I didnae want tae take such a permanent solution. And I didnae think the feud would linger so long.” May’s father shook his head. “I would have explained matters tae the pair o’ ye afterward, save that the feud was never resolved.”

“And so ye kept us apart.” Evander’s voice was tight with anger and hurt. “And never did ye think tae change yer mind, or consider that by the time the feud was over, it might be tae late tae mend things.”

She’d been so caught up in her father’s words, she hadn’t even considered one of the main reasons she’d been distressed by his actions. Evander’s words reminded her of his betrothal, and she winced.

Her father looked at Evander. “I need tae talk tae me daughter alone, if ye will.”

Evander turned to her. May considered, then nodded. There might be more to her father’s reasoning that he didn’t feel comfortable sharing in front of Evander. She wanted to know everything her father was willing to tell her.

The door shut behind Evander with a quiet click. May turned back to her father. “Ye said... dae ye truly love me?”

“Aye.” She had no doubt her father spoke the truth. His expression was open and honest, grief and sorrow evident in his eyes. “I love ye, and there are nay words tae convey how sorry I am that ye ever felt otherwise.”

“Why did ye nae agree tae the betrothal, instead o’ sending me away?”

He shook his head. “I couldnae risk it. I was going tae war, and I couldnae risk ye being tae close tae the battlefield. Besides, if I had agreed – Mackintosh is a brave and honorable clan. They’d have come tae our aid, and yer Evander was already a lad well-grown. And now, he’s the clan war leader. There was tae much chance I’d make ye a widow, as well as risk leaving ye without faither or braither, if worse came tae worse.”

Instead, she’d lost ten years she could have had with her beloved. Worse, there was every chance that they would never be together. Unless Evander could, and did, find a way out of his betrothal, honor would demand she step aside.

Her father reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. “May, I’m sorry. I cannae tell ye how much. I ken I can never make it up tae ye, but if ye still care fer Evander Mackintosh, I’ve nae issue with betrothing the two o’ ye now. Aye, and marrying ye this very afternoon, if that’s what ye want.”

May shuddered under his words, tears springing to her eyes once again. “I cannae ask ye.” She leaned forward into her father’s broad chest, her breath hitching around quiet sobs. “’Tis too late.”

“Dae ye nae love him anymore?” Her father sounded worried, and a bit puzzled. “Ye seemed tae care fer him, and he fer ye.”

“I dae. I dae care fer him. I never stopped. But Evander... He didnae think I loved him, so now…” She swallowed hard. “Evander is already betrothed tae another lass, and I cannae ask him tae break faith with her, even though kenning he’ll marry another breaks me heart.”