The tiny rowing boat was half-aground and Elise clenched her sweaty hands a few times in a vain effort to still her nerves. Droston was already in the boat, arms outstretched to assist her, but she was frozen in place.

“Come, my lady,” Droston coaxed. “Do you wish me to carry you onboard?”

What a fine spectacle that would make. Without warning, she was catapulted back in time, to that terrifying moment when she’d lost her footing on the slippery crag and plunged into the raging river. The icy water had filled her mouth and nose and clutched greedily at her gown, trying to suck her under. Shock and terror so utterly consumed her that it had been several seconds before the agony of her shattered leg engulfed her.

She couldn’t think of that now. There wasn’t time to indulge her old nightmares of drowning and pain so intense she begged for oblivion. She took a deep breath, but the salty air only reminded her of the terrifying expanse of water she was about to willingly risk her life on.

But there was no other way if she wished to speak to Cam. She swallowed, mouth dry, and stepped off the edge of the world.

Droston caught her. She was safe. She opened her eyes, unaware until that moment that she had even squeezed them shut, and let out a ragged breath. She sat on the timber plank as the men began to row toward the open sea.

Waves lapped against the side of the boat. It swayed alarmingly and her stomach heaved in erratic tandem. Sweat trickled along the back of her neck and her hands, clasped on her lap, were clammy.

“Almost there,” Droston said with a reassuring smile although it was blatantly obvious there was still a huge distance to go. She licked her dry lips but it did no good. She gripped the side of the boat, hung over the edge, and retched violently.

Goddess. How mortifying. She kept her eyes shut but somehow that made the boat lurch all the more. How much farther? She only hoped Cam had not witnessed her humiliating upset.

“Here.” Droston passed her a length of material and she pressed it against her lips. Gingerly she sat back on the plank and focused on the curved bottom of the boat. She would not think of the swirling water or the treacherous rocks that lurked beneath. All that mattered was she saw Cam before he set sail to Iona.

***

Cam gripped a length of rope between his hands and glared in disbelief as Elise boarded the ship. What was she doing here? He had resigned himself to never seeing her again. Except he knew he would never be resigned to such a fate, and seeing her now only reinforced that fact with mocking contempt.

As she swayed on the deck, her face as white as the snow-capped mountains in winter, she clutched onto a man. With damning reluctance, Cam tore his mesmerized gaze from her and focused on the one who held her with such insulting care.

A fucking Pict. With blond hair tied back from his aristocratic face, the tall, lithe bastard looked a fitting consort for a princess. His gut clenched and the rope burned his palms. He had never seen the man before but knew who he was.

Her dear Droston.

“MacNeil, a word if you please.”

Connor MacKenzie’s sharp command bit through the crimson fog clouding his vision. He hadn’t even known Connor was there. What in the name of God was going on? Women didn’t set foot on a war vessel and his wife most certainly did not belong on this ship, where she was currently the focus of every man with eyes in his head.

He rounded on the spectators and the ferocious glower he arrowed their way caused them to shuffle backwards, although they didn’t immediately return to their tasks.

It would have to do. He turned back to Elise and saw how she had straightened from her beloved Droston, and how her hands now grasped the skirt of her gown in clear distress.

She was terrified of a fast flowing stream. What had possessed her to climb into a boat and face the open sea?

He crushed the overpowering urge to wrap her in his arms and reassure her she was safe, that all was well. He had lost that right when he’d asked MacAlpin to release the Pict as his boon the king had promised.

Cam had vowed to give Elise the world. How bitter to discover that her world was Droston.

He ignored Connor. “What are you doing here?” He sounded feral but Elise didn’t flinch before his voice or his furious glare. But then if she had his withered heart would have died a little more.

She stepped toward him, lurching inelegantly as her leg gave way. He dropped the rope and caught her arm, and then could not release her.

“Thank you.” Her breathy whisper tore through his chest. She didn’t pull free from his grasp but it had to be his wretched imagination that her fingers tightened around his forearm. “I have to speak with you, Cam.”

He tried not to lose his soul in her spellbinding blue eyes, but he had lost his soul to her months ago. “I believe we have said everything to each other, my lady.”

Aye, they had said everything and he had told her nothing. But how could he tell her what she meant to him, when she had given her heart to Droston so many years ago? He knew she had once cared for him as her husband. Maybe in time she would forgive him enough to care for him again. But he wanted more than that. He wanted it all, and that was why he had set her free.

She had already been trapped in a loveless marriage. He would not trap her in another. It didn’t matter that she was his sun and moon, or that the stars in the sky could not compare to the light she had brought into his bleak existence.

Elise deserved more than that. She deserved to be with the man she loved.

“We have said a great deal.” Elise gazed at him as though she was trying to impart a hidden message. God, this was torture. Every second he looked at her, every second he touched her, made it harder to cut her from his life. “But we can say anything. It’s our actions that truly count.”

An eerie shudder inched over his arms. She had said something similar weeks ago. Words had never come easily to him, and to know a princess like Elise was not concerned by this lack had torn him up inside. Because if she knew all the things he’d concealed from her, contempt would replace the admiration illuminating her lovely face.

“Leave now.” His cursed actions belied his words as his fingers tightened around her arm. “While you still have the chance.”

The tip of her tongue moistened her lips. Didn’t she know how close he was to reclaiming his rights as her husband? How easy it would be for him to sweep her into his arms and confine her in Dunmar, where she would never see her Pictish lover again?

“There is someone I wish you to meet.” Her voice was husky and he glared at her, unable to believe she wanted him to meet the man who aroused such conflicting emotions. Hatred because he held Elise’s heart. And gratitude, because without Droston Elise would have died that day in the river.

The Pict stepped forward and appeared unconcerned by the deadly intent Cam directed his way.

“Cameron MacNeil.” He spoke in Gaelic, his accent similar to Elise’s as though to underscore how far more suited to her he was than Cam. “I offer you my thanks for securing my release. You have my loyalty for this.”

Cam’s lip curled. “I care nothing for your loyalty. I did it for the princess.”

Droston glanced at Elise. It appeared to be strangely calculating and a surge of protectiveness rushed through him. How dare the Pict look at his wife in such a manner?

God help him. Elise had to leave now, before he lost his mind.

The Pict looked back at him. And then, unbelievably, took a step toward him. “The princess is bound by a blood oath to silence, but I’m tethered by no such bonds.” His voice was low. It was obvious he wanted no one else to overhear. Elise took a sharp intake of breath and shot her Pict a shocked look.

“Droston.”

“No. I will speak the truth this once, Elise, to clear the air between us three.”

To hear the Pict call Elise by her given name ripped through Cam’s guts. Only by sheer force of will did he stop himself from gripping the hilt of his sword.

That, and the fact Elise was still clinging to his other arm. God damn it, why did she have to stand so close to him? Why did she have to look at him in that beseeching manner?

“I’ve loved the princess since we were children,” Droston said, staring him down, daring him to retaliate. Cam’s fingers curled around his hilt. He might have been instrumental in freeing this man, but he’d be damned if he’d stand by and let the bastard rub his nose in the fact Elise had chosen him over her own husband.

Except deep in his heart, he knew he would. He’d do anything to try and make up for the way he’d deceived her and coerced her into marriage.

“So I’ve heard.” He raked his gaze over the Pict. “You saved her life. For that you have my thanks and now we are even.”

“No.” To Cam’s incredulous disbelief the Pict leaned in closer until his head was almost level with Elise’s. “You’re wrong. Elise and I love each other but not in the way you think. She is my half-sister.”

The ship lurched beneath his feet and the world reeled, as Droston’s words echoed through his mind. He slowly dragged his gaze from the Pict to Elise, and then back again. Shock stabbed through his heart.

On the journey to Fortriu, Elise had said some things can never be discussed, no matter how dearly one might wish it. He’d thought she was trying to give him a hidden message. But he’d imagined she referred to her first unhappy marriage.

She hadn’t. She’d been speaking of Droston, of the blood oath that prevented her from ever confiding in anyone.

Even him.

Droston bowed, a mocking smile on his lips before he retreated, leaving him and Elise with a semblance of privacy.

“Forgive me,” she whispered. “I wanted to confide in you but I am unable to ever speak of this matter.”

She asked for his forgiveness? She had done nothing wrong. It was he who had lied to her, who had jumped to conclusions and thought to treat her as despicably as his father had treated his mother.

He didn’t deserve her. But he had never deserved her.

“There’s nothing to forgive. I also have been bound by unwanted oaths.” It was a growl and he knew his old familiar glare was back on his face. It was the only way he could function. If he let his guard down for an instant, he knew he’d carry out his earlier desperate thought.

To take Elise back to Dunmar, whether she wanted to or not.

“I asked you back in Dunadd why you married me.” Her voice was soft but her gaze was penetrating. “I stand before you now to ask you the same question. Why did you marry me, Cameron MacNeil of Dunmar?”

He felt his scowl slip as her words hammered through his mind. She had faced her deepest fear of the sea because she wanted to know why he had married her?

He’d told her the truth before. He’d had no choice. But God, that wasn’t the whole truth. Did she truly want him to lay his battered heart at her feet and risk having the slender thread of hope that she might one day love him in return severed for all time?

It wasn’t his imagination. Her fingers dug into his forearm, as though she had no intention of letting him go until he’d answered her question.

She would not have crossed the harbor simply to tell him she was leaving him. Would she?

In the depths of his soul, the flicker of hope stirred. He took a deep breath. Facing the Vikings in battle was less torturous than this.

“MacAlpin threatened to have you compromised if I didn’t take you as my bride.” Even saying the words now, weeks later, caused black rage to coil through his gut. But before his fury could fully get hold, he saw the light diminish from Elise’s eyes.

“So you married me to protect me.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes and a deep sense of sorrow radiated from her. “As you promised you would do anything to protect me while we were in Ce.”

“Aye.” He frowned, unsure why his disclosure appeared to grieve her. It hadn’t been his intention or his hope. “It was the only way to keep you safe from his further machinations, Elise. I don’t know why you agreed to become my wife but,” he grimaced, fighting for the right words. Why was it so hard to tell her how he felt about her? Why could they not drip easily from his tongue, as such flattery did from every other man he knew?

Except he didn’t want to flatter her. He just wanted to tell her the truth.

“But?”

Was it his imagination or was there a fragile thread of hope in that one word? Could he risk Elise leaving now, with her brother, simply because he found it so hard to spit out a few fucking words?

He trailed a finger along the line of her face, only realizing what he was doing when she caught her breath. Would she be here if she despised him? If she hated him for everything he had put her through? Was she here because she wanted to give them another chance?

There was only one thing he could say. “But I’d dreamed of making you my bride since the moment I first saw you. I knew it was an impossible dream. I fought against it. And then circumstances thrust us together and I was lost.”

Her bottom lip trembled but she smiled and the indefinable sense of sorrow faded. “You married me because you wanted to.”

“Aye.” Hadn’t he made that plain? “The thought of another man touching you caused murder to fill my heart. I would never let you be so used, Elise. Not even to please MacAlpin.”

“I know.” Her whisper was so low he had to strain to hear it above the sound of the waves lapping against the ship and the gulls screeching overhead. “You are truly the most honorable man I have ever met.”

Her simple praise cut like a blade through his chest. He could ignore it. He knew Elise herself would never raise the question of what had happened to mac Uurguist. But she would always wonder and it would hover between them like a specter.

He gripped her free hand, as though that might make the words come more easily.

“I sought out mac Uurguist that night to seek vengeance for Isla.” Shit, did he always have to be so blunt? Couldn’t he have found a way to soften his words? He sounded as though he accused her of something, when that was the last thing he wanted her to assume.

“I know. Please, Cam.” Distress threaded through her voice. “You weren’t the only one who wished him dead, although your cause was greater.”

Fuck, and now she was shouldering blame for the bastard’s death. “But vengeance eluded me. It was no lie, how he died. He did fall and crack open his skull, although if I hadn’t been there he would likely never have fallen in the first place.”

“You did not kill him?” Her voice was oddly hushed.

Had he? Maybe, but not in the way he had always envisaged. “In the end—no.”

“I thought Bride had guided your hand.”

Instead of unease at how she invoked her goddess, a strange sense of calm descended over him. “Perhaps Bride stayed my hand.”

She stared at him, a look of wonder on her face. “Justice was served for Isla and my darkest prayers answered. But perhaps, after all, Bride had her own reasons for the ignoble way Ferelei ended his journey.”

Perhaps she had. Who was he to argue with powers he knew nothing about? Isla had been avenged. Elise had been freed. And he was not left with blood on his hands that could, even unintentionally, come between him and Elise.

He pressed his forehead against hers, and ignored the distant good natured jeers of his countrymen. There was something he had to ask her.

“If we were not wed, and knowing everything you now know about me, if I asked you to be my wife now—how would you answer?”

She didn’t even give him time to hold his breath. Her gentle laugh and the way her fingers squeezed his gave him hope before she even spoke.

“I would say yes, Cameron MacNeil. I would be honored to be your wife.”

It seemed his heart expanded inside his chest. A foolish notion, but he relished the warmth that flooded his veins and the light that suddenly filled the world. He wrapped his arms around his bride, heedless of their bawdy audience. What did he care for others opinions. Elise knew the worst of him and still consented to be his wife.

“But I have a stipulation,” she gasped against his ear, and he froze.

“A stipulation?”

“Yes. I know it’s my dowry, but we must strip Dunmar of every item I brought with me. We can sell it, Cam. It will fetch a good price. But I want no reminder of my former husband in my future home.”

He didn’t care about her dowry. He had never cared for what riches Elise might bring to their marriage. He had only suffered mac Uurguist’s treasure because of the luxury it brought his princess.

“If that is your wish.” His voice was husky.

“Yes. And I have another wish. Please, Cam. Please do not sail to Iona.”

He looked at her, and saw the concern in her eyes. Concern for him. “I’m not going to Iona.” He had come onboard to help out, and sailing to Iona had been only a notion in the back of his mind. Something to consider, once Elise had left for Pictland.

But Elise was not leaving for Pictland. Not unless he accompanied her as her husband.

She let out a relieved breath. “Thank goddess.”

For the second time within minutes, he found himself agreeing with her heathen sentiments. And for the second time he questioned his convictions when it came to higher powers.

He didn’t know the truth of such things. Perhaps he never would. But he could respect Elise’s beliefs.

God knows, they had been the same as his mother’s.

He reached for a pouch on his belt, and his hand knocked Elise’s circlet. He would return it to her later, now he no longer needed to keep it as a solitary reminder of her.

With infinite care, he pulled out the precious treasure from his pouch and offered it to Elise on the palm of his hand.

“Would you take this as a token of our marriage?”

He heard her sharp gasp as she tentatively traced her finger over his mother’s pagan necklace. The necklace he had so loved as a child. That, damn it, he still loved.

“I will treasure it always.” She looked up at him, and tears sparkled in her eyes. “Why, Cam? Why do you want me to have this?”

How could she even ask that question? Wasn’t it glaringly obvious?

He leaned in close so there was no possibility of even an errant goddess overhearing him. “Because I love you Elise, Princess Clodrah of Circinn. You gave me back my life. I want to share it with none other but you.”

She pulled back, just enough so she could look him in the eyes. “My noble Scot warrior.” There was a catch in her voice. “I married you because I loved you and I will always love you, Cameron MacNeil of Dunmar.”

Fierce love, pride and protectiveness surged through him. “We’ll leave Dunadd this day and return home.” Relief and wonder spiked through him that he could so easily refer to Dunmar as his home now. But it was only because Elise also thought of it as her home. Hell, he’d be happy living in a cave, if it pleased her.

“There is one more thing, my lord.” A spark of mischief lit her eyes. “We will not be returning to Dunmar alone.”

He knew she wasn’t referring to the warriors or her ladies who would accompany them. Did she mean her cousin and Connor would be visiting? He thought they were on their way to the kingdom of Ce.

“Your cousin and all your relatives are always welcome in our home, my lady.”

She gave a small laugh. “Indeed, that is very generous of you. I don’t believe we need worry that my mother will visit us any time soon, although we will need to visit her in the spring. But I wasn’t referring to that.” She paused and he attempted to work out what she was talking about. And failed. She rose onto her toes and her lips all but brushed his. “I’m speaking of our babe, Cam. It’s very early, but I am certain Bride has blessed us.”

A baby. Elise had conceived his child. A sense of awe engulfed him and his gaze slid to her belly. He had never really thought about having a family with Elise. Just having her in his life had filled his thoughts.

But a child. Their child. The final shadow slipped free from his soul, releasing him from the darkness of his past.

With a laugh, he picked her up and swung her around. To hell with his surly reputation and the unrelenting mockery he would receive from his countrymen for displaying such unseemly behavior in public.

His wife loved him. They were going to have a child. For a hazy second he thought he saw an ethereal rainbow shimmer around Elise and the strangest sense of peace wrapped around him.

Isla. Their mother.

And Elise. Always Elise. She had opened his eyes and his mind, and she had filled his heart. He realized he hadn’t answered her, and even though her smile told him she had no need for his words, that his reaction told her everything she needed to know, sometimes words were simply needed.

He took a deep breath. “You were worth waiting for.” It was not eloquent. It was blunt. And from his heart.

She cradled his face, his beautiful princess, and whispered words he never thought to hear. “And so were you.”

***