“And if any man who married ye was stupid enough to try to beat ye, it’d be the last beating he gave anyone. Once ye healed, ye’d no doubt sew him up in his bed linens, beat him to within an inch o’ his life and dump him in the woods to live or die as God saw fit to have it, and then ye’d lock up the gates and refuse to let him back in if he did survive. Nay,” she added firmly. “Ye’re no’ afraid o’ a man hurting ye physically. I’d wager me life on it. ’Tis their letting ye down that ye’re afraid o’. Ye can build yer muscle and skill all ye like, but it’ll no’ stop yer heart being broken when a man abandons ye to fend fer yerself like yer da did when yer mother died.”
Sighing, she peered at her solemnly for a moment, and then added, “Thank God the Buchanan came and rescued ye from us, is all I can say. He’ll ne’er let ye down like we did. From what I’ve overheard, he’s all about family and responsibility. Forever helping one or the other of them brothers and brother-by-marriage with something. Rory with his healing, Dougall with his horses, Niels with his sheep.” Nodding firmly, she added, “And if he gets injured, or—Lord help us—dies, his brothers and sister will step in to help and there’s no doubt in me mind on that,” she said firmly. “They’re all about family, those Buchanans. They’ll no’ just show up fer any battle Maclean might face, they’ll show up fer everything. Births. Deaths. Weddings. Holidays. Celebrations, and hell, just to visit. Which reminds me,” Tildy said suddenly with a frown. “We need to add more bedchambers to accommodate them all.”
She didn’t wait for a response, but headed for the door, muttering, “I’m done here. Why do ye no’ rest a bit while ye wait? I’ll go see how long ‘twill be ere yer father comes to fetch ye.”
Tildy dropped the dirty clothes she’d collected onto the pile of dirty linens, opened the bedchamber door and then gathered up the whole heap to carry them out of the room.
Geordie was again the one to pull the door closed. He reached in to grab the handle, and then stilled, his eyes widening slightly when he spotted her standing there in the center of the room. He stared at her wide-eyed for a moment, and then smiled and told her, “The day ye mistook Conran fer Rory was the luckiest day o’ his life, m’lady. Ye’re absolutely stunning.”
“What?” Alick asked from the hall, and then the younger brother appeared beside Geordie and looked into the room. She saw his eyes widen and heard his awed, “Gor!” as Geordie pulled the door closed.
Evina stayed right where she was even after the door closed. She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. Tildy’s little speech had left her shocked and frozen as the words replayed in her head.
“Ye’re no’ afraid o’ a man hurting ye physically. I’d wager me life on it. ’Tis their letting ye down that ye’re afraid o’. Ye can build yer muscle and skill all ye like, but it’ll no’ stop yer heart being broken when a man abandons ye to fend fer yerself like yer da did when yer mother died.”
Evina sank weakly to sit on the side of the bed.
Was that really why she’d avoided marriage? Evina wanted to deny it, but everything Tildy had said was true. She would punch any man foolish enough to hit her. And were he enough of an idiot to perform the supremely stupid act of beating her, he’d best hope he beat her to death the first time, because he’d not get a second opportunity to do it.
“Dear God,” Evina breathed, rubbing her hands over her face. She’d been lying to herself for years. Why the devil would she lie to herself?
The answer was easy. As Tildy had said, so she wouldn’t have to think on it. She wouldn’t have to face the fact that her father hadn’t cared enough about her to be there for her. To continue to live. To run Maclean and be the father she’d needed. In a way, he’d died that day at the river as surely as her mother, her husband and Lachlan had. Evina had been as good as an orphan, left to raise herself. Her father was the man she’d most depended on,