A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3) (33 page)

"Aye ... hope. It is the MacNaghten clan motto, after all." Goraidh sighed. "Tell me what to do, lass. Ye know Darach better than
anyone. What can I do to make amends, to win his forgiveness, if
the chance ever to win his love isn't already forever gone?"

I know him better than anyone?

At the irony of that pronouncement, Caitlin almost laughed
out loud. If only Goraidh knew the truth. For the most part, Dar
was a closed book, a fiercely guarded fortress. Indeed, even now,
Caitlin wasn't certain where she really stood with him.

All she did know was that she loved him, and his pain was hers.
If there were any way she could bring him solace and a willing
ear to listen to his frustration and suffering, she would. But even
that bit of succor might not be hers. Not if her brother continued
in his adamant refusal to allow her to see Dar.

Aye, there was irony indeed, Caitlin thought, in the fact the
man who was permitted to speak with Dar had only caused him
further pain, and the one who might be able to assuage it, if only a
little, wasn't allowed within a hundred feet of him. But that wasn't
of much consolation to Goraidh, whose heart was broken over
failing both his son and his God. It also solved nothing of Caitlin's
own frustration over being kept from the man she loved.

She climbed from the bed to stand beside it. "There's naught
ye can do just now," she said, her resolve growing. "For a time,
at least, the responsibility is mine. All ye can do, for the both of
us, is pray. Pray hard that the Lord clears the way, because"-her
mouth twisted in a grim smile-"that's what it'll take to convince
my brother to let me see Dar."

For some reason, Caitlin wasn't surprised to find Niall and
Anne awaiting her in the guardroom outside Goraidh's cell. She
took one look at them, then headed for the dungeon's main
door.

"We need to talk," she said over her shoulder as she hurried
past them, "and it needs to be in private."

Her brother cast her a quizzical glance, then shrugged and fell
into step behind her, Anne at his side. They followed Caitlin down
the corridor until she found an empty servant's room, walked
in, and turned to await them. Anne entered last, then discreetly
closed the door.

There wasn't any point, Caitlin decided, in working her way
around to the topic at hand, so she didn't. "I assume Anne has already informed ye of why I came down here," she said. At her
brother's affirmative nod, she continued. "A short time ago, Goraidh informed Dar that he was Dar's true father, not Brochain
MacNaghten."

Niall arched a dark brow. "Indeed? So, Athe's only Darach's
half-brother, is he?"

"Aye." Caitlin's nod was curt. "The news was, quite understandably, verra upsetting to Dar. Hence, why he now wants
naught to do with Goraidh."

"Aye, it's understandable enough." Niall paused, eyeing her
carefully. "But what's all that to me, or ye, for that matter?"

"I was about to get to that."

"I'm sure ye were," he muttered sardonically.

Anne put a hand on her husband's arm. "Hear her out, Niall.
This is verra important to Caitlin."

Caitlin shot her sister-in-law a grateful glance, then riveted
her gaze back on her brother. "Dar's my friend. Above everything
else and despite yet reservations to the contrary, he's my friend,
Niall. And, right now, he's suffering great pain and confusion.
I want-"

"Ye cannot see him. And that's my final word on it!"

At his gruff interruption, Caitlin ground her teeth in frustration. Dear Lord, she thought, help me make him understand.
Help me!

"Then ye need to reconsider yer final word," she said, a sudden, peaceful conviction filling her. "Though ye'll always be my
older brother, and I yer little sister, I'm not little anymore. I'm a
grown woman and deserve to be treated that way."

"Ye've yet to prove to me-leastwise in yet unerringly poor
choice of men-that ye've the maturity I expect in a grown
woman.

"Niall!" Anne said in soft protest.

He held up a hand in warning to his wife. "Annie, it's past time ye stop coming to her defense. A grown woman can defend
herself," he said, turning back to Caitlin. "Can't she, lass?"

She felt her face grow hot. Her pride stung, Caitlin opened her
mouth to name him the arrogant, pigheaded lout that he was,
when something caught her up short. She had asked the Lord
for aid. Berating her brother was hardly the way to allow Him
to work through her.

"Aye, a grown woman can defend herself," she replied, forcing a calm surety into her voice. "And ye're right. In the past, I
have made poor choices in men, David Graham being mayhap
the prime example of them all. He was naught more than false
flattery and empty intentions. He had a fine name and manner
about him, but there wasn't a shred of honor in him. Indeed, he
was everything I didn't need in a man."

"Then what do ye need, lass? Or do ye even know?"

"Och, I know" Caitlin smiled, the certitude of her knowledge
filling her with a profound joy and satisfaction. "At long last, I
know. I need a man of deep feelings, of courage, honesty, and,
above all, honor."

She paused to draw in a fortifying breath. "In the most unexpected place and unlikely of ways, I've finally found such a
man. Though everything about Dar might lead one to imagine
the contrary, he's naught like the others. Coming to know
him has opened my eyes to what truly matters in a man-or
anyone, for that matter. Being with him has taught me more
of God and His will for my life than all the fine sermons I've
ever heard on Sunday. And loving him has finally made me
a woman. A woman who knows now what she really wants
and needs."

Niall looked at her as if she had suddenly grown two horns on
her head and a large wart on her nose. Heart pounding, Caitlin
stared back at him, refusing to quail before his daunting gaze
and intimidating presence. She loved her brother with all her heart but, always before, she had held him in such high regard
she sooner or later bowed to his will.

But not this time. This time, all that mattered was Dar. Dar, the
man she loved, and who was surely hurting and needed her.

"Caitlin," he said at last, "I don't wish to control ye or yet
life. I but love ye and want the best for ye. And, despite all yet
fine words in his defense, I cannot help but think ye're making
a verra big mistake-"

"Then let me make it, Brother!" she cried. "Ye can't protect
me all my life, nor should ye. And if I do make a mistake, then
so be it. It's my right as a woman, an adult, to do so. But I don't
think I am making a mistake. No matter what ultimately happens
between us, I'm not ever going to regret having been Dar's friend.
He has given me so much. It's past time I give him something
in return."

Niall looked to Anne. She smiled and nodded. He turned
back to Caitlin.

"Just this once, then," he growled, "for I haven't yet decided
what I'm going to do with him. Just this once, Caitlin, and then
ye must vow not to badger me about him again."

Happiness flooded her. She ran to her brother and threw her
arms about him, giving him an exuberant hug.

"Well, I won't give up on finally being able to visit Dar whenever I wish," she said, leaning back to gaze up at him. "I cannot
vow ye that. But I will give ye time to make yet decision about
him. For I know that, sooner or later, ye will see Dar for the good
man he truly is!"

Gently, Niall brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen into
her face. "I hope ye're right, lass. Enemy though he be, I honestly
hope ye're right."

She grinned up at him. "I am, Niall. I know I am."

Even as the light from the meager slit of a window began to
dim into darkness, Dougal, muttering something about how all
he did nowadays was prepare prisoners to pay court to visitors,
stomped into Dar's cell and quickly jerked his arms back into the
shackles and locked them. Dar gave a passing thought to informing the head guard he didn't much care to pay court to anymore
visitors this day, then just as quickly discarded the idea. All he
would likely get for his impertinence, after all, was the back side
of the burly guard's hand.

Besides, there was no reason he had to talk to anyone if he
didn't wish to. Which, in the foul mood he was currently in, he
certainly didn't. So, with a sigh, Dar instead scooted back to lean
against the rough wall, rested his iron-bound arms beside him,
and closed his eyes.

Even before she spoke, he knew it was Caitlin. There was just
something about the air around her as she moved toward him.
As if it were charged, weighted with her presence. He felt as if
his heart were being drawn from him toward her, to its rightful
other half, its soul mate.

Yet, if there were any time that he didn't wish to see her, it was
now. He hurt. He felt ripped asunder. He wasn't certain who he
was or what he wanted anymore. Or even what he should want
or deserved to expect.

"If ye've a shred of compassion for me," he muttered, not
daring to open his eyes, "ye'll turn around and walk out the way
ye came. I'm not ... not in a good way right now. Ye won't find
me verra entertaining company."

She drew up before him and softly chuckled. "And how is that
much different from most other times we were together? Answer
me that, Darach MacNaghten."

Ah, but its so good to hear her sweet voice! Dar thought. Even
now. Even when he was yet less than what he had always imagined himself to be.

Still, this brief moment with her, before he sent her on her way,
was surely a foretaste of heaven. Until this very instant, he hadn't
realized how deeply, how intensely, he had missed her.

He exhaled a weary breath and opened his eyes. Caitlin stood
there, her slender form backlit by the single, sputtering torch
shoved into its iron holder across the room. A yearning to touch
her, hold her, seized his heart and twisted it cruelly.

"How is that different ... ?" As Dar began to repeat her question, he found he could barely keep his thoughts coherent. "Och,
I haven't the strength to bandy words with ye, lass! Ye've already
won. Just leave me be, I beg of ye!"

"Nay. I won't leave ye, not after fighting so hard to come to
ye!"

She took two quick steps and was on the bed beside him. In
the next instant, she had snuggled up against him and was slipping her arms about his waist. With a contented sigh, Caitlin
laid her head on his chest.

"Do ye know how oft, in the past days since we came to Kilchurn," she asked, "that I've dreamt, ached, for this moment?
Och, but I've missed ye, Dar. Missed ye so verra, verra much!"

He couldn't help it. He had missed her, ached for her, as much,
if not more. Though the length of the chain binding him limited
much movement, it was enough he could bring one arm up to
clasp about her waist.

"And didn't I tell ye to forget me?" he asked huskily. "No good
will come of ye pining after what ye can never have."

"Aye, no good would come of such futile longings," she murmured back. "But they aren't futile, Dar. We must but trust in
the Lord and allow Him to do what He wishes."

"What He wishes!" He couldn't help a harsh laugh. "And did
ye know that my true father is a holy man, a man who claims
to follow the will of God? A lot of good that did for him or
me-an illegitimate son whom he gave over to his brutal, half mad brother. And now he desires absolution. Well, let him ask
for all the absolution he can get from his God, for he'll never
receive aught from me!"

"I know, I know," she crooned, pressing yet closer to him.
"Ye must just trust in the Lord a while longer, Dar, and all will
be made clear. All will come to fruition and ye'll finally have the
happiness ye've so long sought and always, always deserved."

"And what happiness is that, lass?" Tears welled in his eyes, and
Dar fiercely blinked them away. "I'll never be able to return to
my clan, and instead will rot in this cell or be tried and executed.
And now I cannot even claim my mither's husband, poor sire
that he was, as my true father!"