“And you miss Gawain,” I stated.
“Aye. I’ve always loved him. Somethin’ in me reaches out to him. I canna give up on him.”
“I’m proud of you, Brigid. They’re both blessed to have you.”
I thought of the brazen Gawain who’d boldly pursued me, even in front of Iain, and everything clicked. He’d competed for my affection because his brother wanted me. A lifelong burden of shunning his family’s love had caused Gawain’s womanizing, encouraging him to seek some semblance of love elsewhere.
Brigid interrupted my reflective thoughts, “How’s Iain holdin’ up? You know, with him knowin’ you’ve . . . had another man?”
I gaped at her, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. “How did you . . . did he . . .”
She laughed. “The man roared the entire castle down when you returned but dinna waken, but I yanked him into my room before anythin’ that made sense was overheard by others. He said you were standin’ in another man’s arms, both of you barely dressed.”
Iain’s instincts had known the instant he laid eyes on Velloc. It spurred a near-deadly fight between the men. I glanced over my shoulder, locking gazes with the topic of our conversation.
Iain stood there—proud and protective—arms crossed over his chest, my coffee mug perched in perfect balance on the palm of his hand. I smiled. Even though he didn’t know the full story behind the incriminating evidence of the past weeks, he’d accepted me back into his home.
I was enormously grateful for the boundless love he showed me and his family. We’d need that quality as we faced the truth together—as I owned what had happened with Velloc no matter the justification. My chaotic existence had stripped the innocence from me . . . from our marriage.
I turned back, looking at the pink cheeks of my friend. She’d suffered too. Unforeseen circumstances had challenged our virtuous optimism.
I answered her question. “Iain’s surviving like we all are: one breath at a time.”
CHAPTER Twenty-one
Brodie Castle—Thirteenth Century, Nine Days after My Return
A complex web of tension—built of fear, betrayal, and anger—took a week to blow over with the gale force of our renewed passion. No further word had been asked or spoken about where I’d been, who I’d been with, or what I’d done, but silent disregard for the Loch Ness Monster in the room served as a needed balm for our healing process.
Iain spent nearly every waking moment by my side, shirking duties as he delegated responsibilities to Robert and his guard. At first, I welcomed the nonstop attention. His escorting me everywhere resulted in his taking me anywhere, and in very creative ways.
But the novelty eventually faded when our honeymooning turned into a guarded imprisonment. Earlier that day, I’d asked Brigid to go hunting with me. To my exasperation, Iain uninvited her, unbeknownst to me, and had taken her place. Irritation surfaced as I chafed at the loss of my freedom.
As Iain raised his bow, nocking an arrow, my frustration boiled over. “Iain, this has to stop.”
My clipped words stopped his draw in midpull. He released the bowstring, holding the arrow between his fingers as he glanced at me. I slid off my horse, walking away from him through waist-high ferns toward the water. The horses nickered to one another, but the rustling sound of the brush told me Iain had followed.
“I’m my own person, Iain. Yes, I am yours, but not as property. You can’t corral me. I need my freedom.”
When I turned around, he stood directly behind me, his brows drawn in concern.
Encouraged by his receptiveness, I flattened my palms to his chest, continuing. “My vibrancy comes from all life has to offer—the adventure and discovery, the challenge and success, the joy and heartache. The risk we each take when we venture out into the world is part of the journey. It’s a path you cannot deny me no matter the danger, regardless of fear.”
“Isa, I canna lose you again.” He said it with a certainty I believed . . . we both believed.
“What if we worked together to find a solution?” I suggested.
He grinned wide, flashing a model-perfect smile. “I’ve been thinkin’ the verra same thing. Let’s bury the box.”
I snorted, shaking my head. “No, Iain, we can’t. I need the box.” I took his larger hands and clasped them together, enfolding them in mine. “I have to go back.”
Iain’s hands exploded outward, throwing my arms wide, nearly knocking me off my feet. He grabbed my shoulders, steadying me. When he pulled me closer, inches from his furious face, I realized the save had been other than to prevent my fall.
“You’ll do no such thing. I will keep you from that box. The damn magick of it has no right to send you back.” He growled out every word.
“Doesn’t it?” I asked softly. I forced my composure to stay calm, trying to reason with him. “I never asked for this life, to be tossed about between times, but my existence has been ruled by outside forces. There are secrets to be learned. The box has a power that can be harnessed. I know it in my gut as sure as I’ve felt anything substantial in either realm.”
Iain’s chest rose and fell in quick rhythm. His nostrils flared. But I pressed on, needing to break through, unafraid of his anger because I knew it stemmed from his love for me.
“I have to have a purpose, Iain. I can’t dismiss all the turmoil I’ve experienced to chance and coincidence. It would ignore the greater meaning. My life’s quest—the need to discover history—demands I take full advantage of the gateway through time.”
Iain eased the grip from my shoulders that threatened to bruise my arms, releasing me with a slow unclenching of his fists. His massive chest inflated and he puffed out his cheeks, blowing air through pursed lips. Then the hard expression softened, his gaze drifting to the ground as he weighed my argument.
He looked back up, staring at me for long seconds, clenching his jaw. “I canna promise I’ll agree to the idea. But . . . I will listen.” He spoke through gritted teeth as he restrained the fierce animal raging to break free. I understood why.
“Iain . . . you know I love you.” I frowned, unhappy I had to admit the sentiment in such an unromantic conversation. “I’m here with you now. I’m broken, though. I left a man behind who is every bit as destroyed as you were when I disappeared. A piece of my heart hurts, Iain. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I loved him very much too. I still do. But nothing about what he and I have changes anything about what you and I share.”
He scowled, crossing his arms. “How can you love two men, Isa? How can you share all of your heart with one man when you give it to two?”
“I don’t know, Iain.” I paced, trying to make sense of it. “When I was with him, he protected me and loved me without hesitation. He kept me alive and safe . . . helped me flourish in his world. I gave him everything of me in return. Not because I felt obligated, but because he’s a good man, suited to me perfectly, and I fell in love with him. Now I’m here with you. You’re a good man, suited to me perfectly, and I’m in love with you. I’ve no idea how that’s possible, but obviously some power outside the three of us seemed to know it would happen.” I placed my hands on his chest again, one over his beating heart, as I looked up into his eyes. “Iain, I wasn’t whole there either. My life is incomplete without you.”
The tightness of his face gentled at my words. He took a slow deep breath and exhaled it. My gaze dropped to his lips, and he dipped his head down, giving me a soft kiss.