Highlanders Collection. Ann Lethbridge
of the night, thinking about Saraid.
Not what he wanted to be thinking about.
He wanted to relive the memories of bringing Ciara to life under his mouth and with the touch of his hands. He wanted to remember the sighs and the moans and the breathless way she said his name as she found repletion. He wanted to think about the way she learned what pleased him so quickly and how she managed to bring him to climax with little more than a touch of her mouth or her hands.
Instead, every single mistake he’d made with Saraid, every mean word and thought, repeated in his head all night long. Her fears that swallowed up the woman he’d fallen in love with. Her incessant demands that drove him mad. Her desperation that increased day by day and that he could not seem to resolve. No amount of reassurance had helped. And no matter what Ciara thought, he was the cause of it.
His selfishness in needing to get away from her.
His negligence in taking her fears seriously.
His inability to care for her and to protect her from the one thing she feared most: dying.
He’d failed as a husband and as a man and Saraid had died as a result of it. Would it happen again if he allowed himself to love another? Was it a terrible flaw in his character or had he simply failed once?
He moved through the day barely aware of the goings-on around him. He finished the tasks he needed to see to and decided it was as good a time as any to speak to Connor about leaving Lairig Dubh. Connor agreed to meet him after the midday meal and invited him to join them. There would be no elaborate evening meal this night since preparations were going on for the marriage feast on the morrow.
Connor grimaced after saying it, but Tavis simply nodded and agreed to come back later. He filled the time with training even though the skies opened and it rained for several hours. He did not really feel it and did not feel much of anything this day. The only thing in his favour was that he did not see her at all this day.
He climbed the stairs to Connor’s chamber and found him in the middle of an argument with his wife. He could not make out the words and was waiting for things to calm inside before making his presence known, but Rurik walked up behind him and knocked.
‘That could go on for some time, lad. We do not want to wait here forever,’ Rurik advised.
Since he reported to Rurik and worked with him, it made sense that Connor had asked him to be part of this discussion.
When the voices did not cease, Rurik opened the door and yelled inside, ‘Should we wait out here for you two to finish or can we come inside?’
Tavis shook his head. Only Rurik could, and did, get away with such behaviour. He’d shown up in Lairig Dubh with their uncle, a hulking, half-Scots, half-Norse warrior, bigger than anyone had ever seen, and pledged to Connor’s service. He was the fiercest fighter and most loyal friend Connor had and could count on in any situation. Rurik had even given up his right to the earldom of Orkney to return here when he married Margriet.
So, Tavis understood why Connor allowed him such impertinence.
‘We are finished,’ Jocelyn shouted back, as she walked by them and slammed the door shut behind her.
Rurik knew better than to joke at this moment, so Tavis just remained silent and waited on Connor. He was pacing back and forth and cursing under his breath, clearly still carrying on the conversation with Jocelyn even though she had left in the middle of it.
‘Wives!’ he yelled as he slammed a cup down and filled it with ale. Rurik walked over to him, poured another cup for himself and handed one to Tavis.
‘Wives!’ he said, raising the cup and then emptying it in one swallow.
Tavis drank it all down without a word about wives … anyone’s wife. Connor sat at his table and motioned for them to sit. Rurik remained standing, as he always did, and Tavis sat.
‘You asked about a new assignment?’
‘I would like to move from Lairig Dubh and thought I could serve your needs better on one of your other holdings.’
The words were out, easier to say than he thought they’d be. He watched as Connor exchanged several glances with Rurik and waited for the reaction.
‘Does this have anything to do with Ciara and James Murray?’ Connor did not lack directness.
‘It matters not, Connor. They will marry on the morrow and return to Perthshire. This is about me.’
‘And moving will do what for you, Tavis?’ Rurik asked. ‘You have been my commander for some time now and I think it’s the best place for you.’
‘Young Dougal would be good. He is a good fighter and ready for more responsibility.’
‘Why do you want this?’ Connor asked again.
‘I need to be away from here. I need to find a place where I am not haunted by my past every day from when I open my eyes until I close them.’
Sweet Christ! He never meant to say any of that. Not to anyone, but especially not to Connor.
‘Once the wedding is done and the Murrays leave, we will speak again on this matter, Tavis. I cannot make a decision until I speak to the stewards and commanders at the other holdings.’
He stood. He did not truly expect Connor to simply approve his request, but he did not expect to be put off for so long.
‘Soon, Connor,’ he said. ‘Make it soon,’ he challenged as he nodded to Connor and Rurik as he walked towards the doorway.
‘Tavis,’ Connor called to him just before he opened it, ‘is there anything else you need to discuss with me?’
Tavis looked from one to the other and tried to work out what they thought he needed to talk about with Connor.
‘Nay, Connor. That was all.’
Connor nodded, dismissing him, and he made his way back down the stairs, only to find Jocelyn waiting for him. Still full of fire and fight from whatever she was speaking, or shouting, with Connor about, she started to ask him several questions at once and then stopped. He’d never seen her so angry. She gave up trying and climbed the stairs to their chambers.
Everyone seemed to be on edge here. Were the plans for the wedding at fault? Or the new agreement with the Murrays? Or was something else at play that he was not privy to? No matter, he still had duties to see to until Connor made his decision.
Leaving the keep, he decided to try to get some rest tonight since he’d got none last night. Walking back to his cottage, one of the boys from the village stopped him with a message. Gunna the midwife wanted to speak to him. Since she had to leave to tend to a woman on one of the farms, could he come as soon as possible?
Had Ciara done this? She said she’d spoken to the woman. If the thought of losing her had not relieved him of his guilt in Saraid’s death, why would the words of a stranger persuade him?
Tavis thanked the boy for carrying the message and almost ignored it. Did he really want to dredge up more of the pain? What did she think to accomplish by this?
I know it is too late for us, but I beg you to speak to the midwife, Gunna. She saw Saraid frequently and has a different view of things.
He did not know that Saraid had sought out the old woman. She was only months into carrying and long before she would need a midwife. She had been healthy and had no problems. Why would she seek out Gunna?
Standing there, debating this in his own thoughts, would get him nowhere. If nothing else, speaking with the old woman would simply confirm that he was right about Saraid’s health.
Tavis walked through the village, past Elizabeth’s cottage and down the lane to almost the edge where the old woman lived with her daughter. Knocking on the door and identifying himself, he was welcomed in. Gunna’s daughter was feeding a babe and Gunna was packing supplies for the birth she was going