A Beautiful Lie (The Camaraes) (60 page)

“
Forgive me, sir,
”
Lachlan begged, bowing his head reverently.  Graem waved the apology aside with one gnarled hand.

“
I don
’
t know that you have anything to be forgiven for yet, unless you intend to elaborate on your apparent offensive?
”
the Laird said, offered Lachlan a seat on which to sit.

“
Well, for neglecting my duties today, sir,
”
Lachlan replied carefully.

“
Ah- neglecting your duties,
”
Graem repeated slowly, his tanist shifted uncomfortably. 

Graem had always given Lachlan the impression of knowing so much more than he let on, and now he wasn
’
t entirely certain if the old man was talking about his duties to the clan
…
or his duties to his wife. 

“
Well, one day of neglected duties can be forgiven no doubt, but if it should develop into a habit
…”
the sentence trailed off, but the warning rang loud and clear.

“
I understand, sir,
”
Lachlan nodded, standing back up.

“
Do you?
”
Graem asked seriously.

Lachlan paused, and took a moment to fully consider the question.  He knew what he was risking- on one hand there was the lairdship, and on the other was his marriage.  If Lachlan had been asked to place the two things on a set of scales before he
’
d first got back to Eilean Donan with his new Cameron bride the lairdship would have weighed the heaviest, been the most important to him
…
but over the weeks that had slowly changed.  He
’
d been coming to accept the fact that perhaps they were equally important to him, but now Lachlan was beginning to fully understand that Muria meant more to him that anything and everything else in the world
…

“
Aye, sir,
”
he breathed quietly. 
“
I understand.
”

Graem nodded his head gravely. 
“
All right then laddie.  Give my best to your bonnie wife,
”
he added as Lachlan dipped his head and made to retreat.

Once he was back out in the corridor Lachlan tried to get his head around this new revelation.  If he wanted Muira more than he wanted to be Laird then maybe he should-

“
Lachlan MacRae!  You stop right where you are!
”

Lachlan groaned at the sound of his mother
’
s shrill voice.  He turned around to face her, sighing heavily at the furious set of her jaw. 
“
Yes, mother?
”
he murmured wearily.

“
Where is she then?
”
Mrs MacRae spat.

“
Who?
”
Lachlan asked innocently.  He didn
’
t want a confrontation with his mother, but he wasn
’
t in the mood to listen to her spew off one of her rants against Muria.

“
That
woman
,
”
she hissed, nostrils flaring. 
“
The whole castle has been talking about nothing else all day!  Everyone
’
s been saying that she was running back to Camerons with information!
”

“
Everyone
’
s been saying that have they?
”
Lachlan growled, his face darkening. 

In the heat of his anger he had also accused Muira of spying, but when he
’
d woken that morning and found her gone the notion hadn
’
t reoccurred to him, not even for an instant.  She hadn
’
t been spying, not with any malicious intent at least.  Lachlan could see that now, could appreciate how neglected and alone she must have felt with him constantly working, constantly having other things on his mind.  Could he make it up to her?  Was there still time for him to make Muira see that
she
was what mattered to him most?

“…
and then- Lachlan!  You
’
re not even listening to me!
”
Mrs MacRae barked. 

Lachlan bit his lip to keep from snarling something cutting at his mother.  Without him having realised it, they had walked all the way back to the chambers he now shared with Muria, and were standing outside the door.  Lachlan paused with his hand on the door handle and looked pointedly at his mother.

“
Well?
”
Mrs MacRae snapped. 
“
I want to go in and see the wench!  I intend to give her a piece of my-!
”

“
You are
not
coming in to see my
wife
,
”
Lachlan said firmly.  He didn
’
t know if Muira would still be bathing, or dressed for bed, but more than that, he wasn
’
t about to inflict his ranting mother on her!  That was the very least that he could do for her.

Lachlan opened the door a fraction, hoping that his mother would heed what he had said.  Unfortunately, she seemed unable to let the matter pass.

“
Lachlan, don
’
t you dare try to protect her from me!  She
’
s ruining you and your reputation!  You
’
ll be lucky to-
”

“
Muira has done nothing wrong!
”
Lachlan interrupted his mother angrily, his temper increasing the volume of his voice.

“
Lachlan, listen to yourself!  She
’
s brainwashed you!  She
’
s a
Cameron
!
”

“
It doesn
’
t matter-
”
Lachlan began, and Mrs MacRae opened her mouth, undoubtedly to argue that it most certainly
did
matter, however, her son didn
’
t give her the chance to speak. 
“
It doesn
’
t matter, because I love her,
”
he declared firmly.

Mrs MacRae gaped up at him, her mouth opened and shut like some kind of deranged fish. 
“
Love?
”
she managed to choke at last. 
“
You don
’
t
love her
!
”
she cried, but there was almost a plea to her voice.

“
I do,
”
Lachlan breathed softly, feeling the full truth of the words. 

A strange sense of peace enfolded him.  It soothed the raw hurt that had ravaged his heart.  He loved Muira.  If he could just convince her of that fact, convince her that he was sorry, that he would spend the rest of his life making it up to her then she had to- to- what?  Stay?  Forgive him? 
…
love him back?

Lachlan didn
’
t want to pin his hopes on that possibility just yet; just having Muira be able to
like
him would be enough
…
at least for a while.

“
Goodnight Mother,
”
he said amiably, bending to place a kiss on her cheek and then slipping inside the chamber, leaving Mrs MacRae still standing in the corridor looking dazed and horrified.

The low burning fire in the hearth cast a dim light around the bedroom.  Muira had already retired to bed.  Lachlan
’
s eyes immediately fell on the small body nestled under blankets and curled atop their mattress.  She was laying right on the edge of the bed, as far she could go without falling on the floor, with her head turned away from the door. 

Lachlan sighed sadly, and then took up his seat by the fire.  He wasn
’
t going to force Muira into any situation that she wasn
’
t comfortable with- and sleeping in the same bed with him was obviously going to be something that would take her little while to re-accept
…
 

She would take him back into her bed, wouldn
’
t she
, Lachlan worried?  The thought of never again lying with her in his arms was torturous- just as the notion of never again sinking between her legs, of losing himself in the sensual heaven that he
’
d discovered in Muria, was pure agony. 

He
’
d find a way to correct the wrongs he
’
d wrought, Lachlan told himself firmly.  He
had
to
…
he really couldn
’
t see a life for himself without Muira in it.