subject, I opened my sporran, selected the MacCrae family ring, and presented it to Jamie. “I thought ye might want this back,” I said.
As he stared at the lion-headed ring in the palm of my hand, he flinched. For several moments he stood by in silence, lost in thought.
At length he said, “I want you to have it.”
“Nay.” I made to give him the ring, but he snatched his hand away like I held a burning coal. “That ring is meant for a ruler, a king . . . not for me.” Intending to put an end to the discussion, he resumed weapon cleaning.
“So what? You’re no longer royalty? You’re the firstborn MacCrae and your intended is the queen. I think that more than qualifies you ta wear it.”
Jamie shook his head. “If you knew what I’ve done, you’d think otherwise.”
“Then tell me about it.”
Still avoiding my gaze, Jamie lay the sword on the table. “We should leave for the bridge.”
He tried to step around me, but I blocked his path. “When it comes to advice, you’re all bum and parsley.” He glared at me to back off, but I persisted. If Jamie was to have any chance of moving forward—to heal—he would have to face his demons. “I see the wedge you’re driving between yourself and the queen.”
His body stiffened, telling me that I’d struck a nerve. Avoiding my eyes, he said flatly, “She deserves better ‘n me.”
“So that’s it, then—you’re just going ta freeze her out. You want ta see her with Murray? King Ewan—has a nice ring to it, dinna ye think?”
Coiling like a lion about to pounce, he growled, “Get out of my way, Duncan.”
I stepped aside and then turned to regard his retreating form. Just before he reached the tent entrance, I said, “All hail, King Ewan!”
With a sound more like a bull than a lion, Jamie spun around and charged. Before I could brace for impact, I was flat on my back with my brother’s fists pummeling me.
Snaking a hand around his throat, I rolled until I was on top of him. Normally with my size advantage and his quickness, we were evenly matched, but his raging emotions made him wild, allowing me to stay out of his reach as I squeezed just enough to subdue him. The instant he stopped struggling, I let go.
“Now, canna we—” Jamie’s fist connected with my diaphragm, knocking the breath out from underneath my words. Squirming onto his stomach, he started to crawl away, but I grabbed ahold of his boot. He kicked back, narrowly missing my jaw with his free foot.
Pulling him toward me, I rammed a fist into his head and anchored a knee in the small of his back, pinning his arms. As I loosened my grip, he started to roll out from under me. I scrambled after him, putting him in a headlock before he could get away.
As boys, I spent many a fight on the receiving end of Jamie’s headlocks, and as much as one might think to the contrary, it gave me no pleasure to turn the tables. “Now I’ve something to say and you’re goin’ to listen.” I tightened my grip as he struggled in vain to get free. “I canna claim ta know what happened when ye were Adelaide’s prisoner, but I see the demons you’re carrying around because of it.
“You have to find a way ta let them go. For the sake of our kingdom. For Veronica’s sake—because she needs you. And for your own sake.”
“You dinna understand.”
“Then help me,” I pleaded. Jamie had stopped struggling, but I dared not let up. “Tell me what happened.”
“I did things . . . things I thought I’d never do. There’s blood on my hands and I canna get them clean.” He sobbed a single dry heave. “I don’t deserve ta be king and I certainly dinna deserve Verranica.”
“What about what she deserves? Does she no’ deserve to be with the lad she loves?”
He grunted in answer.
“And what about what you deserve?” Slowly, I released my hold. As I suspected, the fight had left him and he didn’t move. “Don’t ye deserve forgiveness? And happiness?”
“Not anymore.” He shook his head and I moved to face him.
“I know you, brother. Whatever you’ve done, ye had your reasons.”
He looked up, the pain in his eyes hard to witness. “I had a choice, Duncan, a moment in time when I could’ve . . . should’ve made the right decision and I failed.”