Page 91 of The Wolf Laird's Obsession
Morag’s eyes widened, as though she had not expected gratitude from him, and then she nodded and stepped back.
Rowan’s gaze swept across the courtyard, coming to rest on the woman his guards had just escorted from her chambers.
Marion stood near the gates, flanked by the two men who had been watching her door, her grey-streaked hair loose around her shoulders, her fine clothes wrinkled from hours of waiting. Her face was pale, her eyes red from weeping, and she clutched her hands together as though she were praying.
She lookedterrified.
Rowan walked toward her, watching her flinch with every step he took.
“Rowan.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I didnae ken. I swear to ye, I didnae ken he would take them. I didnae ken he would?—”
“Marion.” He stopped before her, close enough to see the tears on her cheeks and the fear in her eyes. “Ye are forgiven.”
She stared at him. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
“I should have told ye.” Marion’s voice broke. “Years ago, when I first realized that Gordon was alive, I should have sent word. I should have?—”
“Ye were afraid.” Rowan’s voice was gentle, gentler than he had intended. “Ye were afraid of him. I understand that. I daenae hold it against ye.”
Marion’s face crumpled, and she pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for everything.”
“I ken.” Rowan reached out and took her hand, holding it between both of his. “Ye are family, Marion. And family forgives.”
She nodded, unable to speak, and he released her hand and turned away.
The Great Hall was quiet when they entered it, the long tables empty, the candles burning low in their holders. The fire in the hearth had died down to embers, and the shadows gathered in the corners like watchers waiting for something to happen.
Rowan stood at the center of the hall with Sorcha beside him and Elspeth in his arms. Gordon stood a few paces behind them, his head bowed, his hands hanging at his sides. Ewan, Morag, and Flora stood near the doors, watching, waiting.
“There is somethin’ I need to say,” Rowan began, and put Elpseth down. “Somethin’ I should have said a long time ago.”
Sorcha looked up at him, her eyes wide and questioning.
“When I married ye,” he said, turning to face her fully, “I told meself it was duty. I told meself it was an obligation. I told meself that ye were a replacement for the bride who ran away, a means to an end, a way to secure an heir and silence me council.”
Sorcha’s breath caught. He saw the fear in her eyes, the fear that he was about to push her away again and retreat behind the walls he had built around his heart.
“That was a lie,” he said. “The lie I told meself because I was afraid. Afraid of losin’ ye. Afraid of lovin’ ye. Afraid of what would happen if I let meself want somethin’ as much as I want ye.”
“Rowan.” His name on her lips was soft, almost a whisper.
“Ye arenae a replacement.” He reached for her hands and held them in his own, his thumbs tracing circles on her palms. “Ye arenae a duty or an obligation or a means to an end. Ye are me wife. Me chosen wife. The woman I have chosen to stand besideme, nae because I had to, but because I want to. Because I cannae imagine me life without ye in it.”
Tears spilled down Sorcha’s cheeks, and she did not try to wipe them away. “I love ye,” she rasped. “I have loved ye for so long. I was afraid to say it because I didnae think ye loved me back.”
“I do.” He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. “I love ye, Sorcha. I love ye, and I am sorry it took me so long to say it.”
Elspeth tugged on his sleeve, and he looked down at her. “Da? Does this mean Lady Sorcha is going to stay?”
“She is goin’ to stay,” Rowan affirmed. “She is goin’ to stay forever.”
Elspeth’s face broke into a smile, and she launched herself at Sorcha, wrapping her small arms around her legs. “I am so glad. I am so glad ye are stayin’. I didnae want ye to go. I wanted ye to be me maither. I wanted?—”
“Shh.” Sorcha held her close, her voice thick with tears. “I am nae going anywhere, sweet one. I am here. I am staying.”
Gordon stood, watching, his eyes wet. He did not speak, did not move, did not do anything except stand there with his hands at his sides and his heart on his sleeve.
Rowan saw him and crossed the hall toward him. He stopped before him and looked at him for a long moment.
