Page 39 of Her Reluctant Highlander Husband

“It was no accident,” Bryce said, his voice rough with emotion.

“Nay. The laird had killed her because of my words. That’s when I vowed never to speak again. I wouldn’t risk saying something that could cause anyone pain or death ever again.”

Bryce brushed a finger across her cheek, wiping away the tears. “You were just a child. You didn’t know what you were saying. Or how he would respond. It wasn’t your fault.”

She appreciated his words, but she knew the truth of it. She’d spilled a secret that wasn’t hers to tell. She’d released a truth that never should have been told.

Her aunt had been wrong. The truth of who her father was had mattered.

It had mattered a great deal.

…

Bryce watched his wife as she wept bitterly over her part in her mother’s death. He knew well the weight of guilt, how exhausting it was to carry day after day. He also knew that the words of friends and family did nothing to ease it. He’d been told many times it wasn’t his fault that Maggie and Isabel had died. He was away doing his duty. They would have died even if he’d been there. And he might have died as well.

It didn’t matter. It made no difference if the words they spoke made sense. In his heart, he was to blame. He might have been able to do something if he’d been there. Even if only to make sure they hadn’t died alone and frightened.

He didn’t even know which of them had passed first. Had wee Isabel been abandoned and afraid, alone with her mother’s lifeless body? How many days had it taken?

He shook the thoughts away, knowing he’d never have answers, no matter how many sleepless nights he pondered their demise. He would always wonder if they’d hated him and blamed him in their final moments.

He held Dorie close and let her cry. It was the only thing he could think to do.

He found it strange that some words held so much power—like the ones she’d spoken in anger to the man she’d thought was her father—while other words were meaningless. Like offering absolution to someone who vowed never to forgive him- or herself.

“I understand,” he said, knowing it was naught but more meaningless noise escaping his lips. He couldn’t understand her pain any more than she could understand his.

But perhaps that was what understanding was truly about. Knowing you couldn’t possibly know the other person’s sorrows, and yet feeling for them deeply.

“It is over and done,” he said. “There’s nothing you can do for your mother now by looking back and blaming yourself for her death. Would your mother have wanted you to carry this grief and guilt for years, or would she have demanded you let it go and be happy?” he asked.

A question he dared not think about too closely.

He wouldn’t ponder how much Maggie would have hated the way he still mourned for her. She would have snapped at him in irritation and told him to stop moping about.

“When I was a child locked in my room, I wished my real father would come to take me away,” she said in a shaky voice. “But I secretly feared it as well. Because when he found out what I’d done, he’d surely punish me even worse than Dougal McCurdy.”

“I was a father, and I can tell ye there is nothing I wouldn’t have forgiven my Isabel for. It’s just the way of fathers.”

“Is it the way of husbands and wives to forgive each other?” she asked softly.

At first he thought she wanted him to forgive her for something, but then he realized she was speaking of Maggie and how his first wife would have forgiven him for leaving her to face death alone.

“Aye. Sometimes,” he said with a sigh. “But not always.”

Some things were unforgivable.

…

As she had the day before and the day before that, Dorie sneaked out through the bailey gate while Bryce worked with his men in the bailey.

He’d asked her to stay inside the castle walls, but her dog was too large now to be content with that small area. He loved to run in the fields and hunt along the edge of the forest.

And she liked to visit Cam and Mari at their new house. It was still being constructed, but one wing was complete and they were able to live there. It made Dorie feel better to help Mari with curtains for her home after her friend had been so kind to take time to help with Dorie’s gowns.

It was no coincidence that Dorie timed her walks for when the women convened in the kitchen. Their lurid discussions had given her thoughts that frustrated her. They spoke of things she wished to do and feel with Bryce. But unfortunately, after their one splendid night of making love, he remained distant. Despite lying next to her each night, he hadn’t touched her again.

She thought he felt the same tension and longing she felt, but they didn’t talk of it. In fact, he hardly talked to her at all. He’d claimed what had happened to her mother was not her fault, but did he secretly despise her for causing it nonetheless?