Page 56 of Plaid Attitude
“Coira,” he finally said, “ye dinnae have to say it just because I said it to ye. I meant what I said earlier; nae matter what my role is in yer life, I’ll be there for ye. Ye dinnae have to lie to either of us.”
That’s what he thought? “’Tisno’ a lie!” But it came out sounding like a petulant child, and she hated it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed his hands away, then stepped back. She needed her wits, and he always made her wits go out the fooking window.
“I love ye, Doughall.” Unconsciously, her hands began to fiddle with the ties of her shirt again. “I think I have for a long while, but I just dinnae realize what lovewas. Ye were the one to help me understand it.” She dropped her gaze again. “Ye’ve helped me understandso much, and I’ve just…taken from ye.” She shook her head, disgusted with herself. “I want togive—”
Suddenly, he was there, reaching for her arms. “Love, yedogive. Ye give and give and give, no’ just to me, no’ just to Bess, but to the whole clan. ‘Tis what we’ve been trying to tell ye. Ye deserve to receive as well.”
Was he right?
Slowly, she raised her gaze to his. “Thank ye,” she whispered.
“Thankye.”
“And…I love ye. I really do. I’m no’ just saying that, Doughall. I love ye and Bess, and I want—”
She would’ve accepted his offer of marriage, assuming it still stood, had Nicola not rushed by the door at that moment.
“Come along!” she called out. “Tie yerself back up again, Da’s waiting for us!”
Doughall sighed and stepped back, then turned for the basin and rag to give his hands and face a quick scrub. Coira’s heart felt light as she reached for a kirtle to pull over her shirt and braies.
Why? She’d been so scared, dreading what Da had to say, why did she now feel as if it didn’t matter?
Because it doesnae. Because ye have Doughall and Bess, and nae matter what Da says, ye’ll still have them. And they are worth more than leadership of the clan.
So, when he offered her his arm with a worried glance, she smiled and slipped her arm through it, tucking herself close to him.
Together, they went to face her destiny.
…Which sounded much more impressive than justthey trudged down the hall to the Laird’s Chambers. But when they reached it, the door was open and the room was full.
Doughall tapped Kester on the shoulder and the tall laird squeezed further to the side to give Coira the chance to sidle through the crowd of her sisters and brothers-in-law. Ramsay was holding wee Relic, who was trying to squirm free, and merely grunted an acknowledgement, then turned to kick Pherson in the shin.
When Pherson—who was holding Wren’s hand—turned, Ramsay jerked his chin toward Coira, and the falconer’s expression lit up. “Coira’s here!” he called.
And every bloody person in the room turned to look at her.
She was used to this. She was used to leading.
So why did she suddenly feel so nervous?
Then Doughall was beside her, as he promised he always would be, and he slipped his hand into hers.
Strength flowed through her limbs, and she lifted her chin. “Hello. What’d I miss?”
Smiling, Fen stepped up and took her other hand, tugging her toward the bed where Da rested propped against pillows.
He looked stronger than the last time she’d seen him, which was good, although ‘twas still strange to address him while he was stretched out in bed. Mother perched on the edge of the mattress, holding his hand and hovering like a good-natured, if a bit useless, bumble bee.
When he needed her, she was there.
Coira’s gaze dropped to her parents’ linked hands, and she realized what she was witnessing was no different from what she’d just shared with Doughall. Had her parents always had such a supportive marriage, and she’d just been too absorbed with her duties to notice?
She vowed not to be so dismissive in the future.
“Coira?” her father asked, his voice the same as always. But now he was looking at her with a sharpness in his gaze she hadn’t seen for a long while.
She swallowed. “Aye, Da?”
