am listenin’.”
He let out a heavy breath. “Ye see, I happen to be verra much in love with a woman who used to do what ye do. Years ago, she left that part of her life and has tried to start over. I want her to be my wife, but I fear she still worries overly much about what she used to do.”
“Does it bother ye? What she used to do?”
He smiled warmly, “Nay, it does nae bother me. I understood her reasons for doin’ it and would never hold it against her.”
“But ye see, with that statement alone, it is apparent to me ye do.”
Confused, he asked for clarification.
“Laird, ye behave as though she needs yer understandin’. I imagine ye even forgave her, aye?”
“Of course, I did.”
She gave a slow shake of her head. “She does nae need yer forgiveness. No woman who has ever been forced to do what we do, or any woman who outright chose this way of life, needs a man’s forgiveness. Only acceptance. To forgive is to say she has done somethin’ wrong when in fact, she has done nothin’ wrong. She provided a service, that is all.”
He couldn’t quite see it in those terms but was willing to try to see her point.
“Would ye feel the need to forgive a woman for bein’ a seamstress? A laundress? A weaver or a scullery maid?”
Now, he could see where she was going with her line of thinking.
She caught the realization dawning in his eyes. “Then why would ye feel the need to forgive this woman ye claim to love?”
For a long moment, he mulled it over and over. Mayhap she was right. Keevah had done nothing that hundreds, if not thousands of women had done in the past. Each for her own reasons. Still, he thought there had to be a better way to make a living.
“For some of us, we have no choice but to do what we do. A few have reasons of their own. It might be the desire for independence. The need for excitement. Or they work in establishments such as mine, save up enough coin, to buy a business the rest of the world finds a bit more palatable or respectable.”
Truly, he’d never thought of it that way. Never once had he ever paid a woman for her company. There was something that didn’t set well in his head or his heart about it. Joining should involve two willing people. Paying for the act made it seem … less.
“Accept her past, laird. But do nae offer her forgiveness. She does nae need it.”
Mayhap that was what Keevah had been trying to tell him all those many weeks ago?
For more than an hour, Keevah stayed next to her friend, never once letting go of her hand. She wept until she could weep no more. In between sobs, she made a hundred different promises and twice as many apologies.
Guilt clung to her like a second skin. How could she not feel responsible? Had she stepped in and told Kieren not to marry Dermott to begin with, both their lives might have been set on entirely different paths. Had she not been so busy with her own life to talk her friend out of marrying him. Had she not been so busy grieving the loss of her family. Had she taken the time to pay attention. If she had just done one single thing differently, her dearest friend may still be alive. If she had spoken up. If she had been there …
If, if, if… Her life now seemed to be made up of nothing but if’s. If her father hadn’t died … if her mother hadn’t died … if her brothers hadn’t died.
Her mother used to tell her not to fret over ifs or buts. ’Twill do ye nae good to fret over what cannae be changed.
Oh, how she wished Lachlan were here. What she would not give to have just a bit of his comfort, his kindness, and friendship. To feel those big strong arms of his wrapped around her. Oh, how she missed him.
Wiping her tears on the sleeve of her dress, she stood and took a long look at her friend. “I am so sorry, Kiernan. I am so verra sorry.”
She placed a kiss upon her forehead and quit the room. She was not going to leave the act of bathing Kiernan and preparing her for burial to anyone else. This was the last good thing she could do