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“Was he afraid of his own sons?
“The iron ring on his fist crashed into my cheekbone, and I stopped hearing for a moment.
“Then a thought came. While he was busy with me, he couldn’t harm my siblings and my mother. As his fist slammed into my face over and over, I knew this wasn’t so bad. I could take it. I could protect Ma, Raghnall, and Catrìona.
“Mayhap that was why I was so sturdy, so strong, so big.
“To be a protector.
“Because as long as there was danger out there for my family, my needs weren’t important. I had to put them and their safety first.”
Rogene laid her hand on his arm, and her tenderness picked him up and carried him away from the horror of that memory. She shifted closer, and her gaze was so warm and so full of compassion that his heart ached.
“I understand why Sìneag said we’re destined for each other,” she said. “We both do anything to protect our siblings.” She squeezed his arm. “But your father is dead now, Angus. Don’t you think you’ve sacrificed enough and fulfilled your duty?”
Jesu, hearing her say that was like a knife cutting open an infected wound. Painful, but he knew it would bring healing.
Raghnall had said the same thing: I think ye’ve done yer duty enough for our family. ’Tis time to put yerself first. Because this time, ’tis for the rest of yer life. Catrìona had never liked Euphemia, either, and she had asked him several times whether he was sure.
The rest of his life…
When his father had died six years ago, it had been sudden. Although Kenneth Og had been having pains in his stomach and chest for a few years, he’d seemed immortal. So when one of the servants had found him stiff and cold, sitting in the garderobe with his breeches down, it had seemed to Angus like it was one of Father’s cries for attention.
But it wasn’t. He was dead. As much as Angus had been grieving his death, part of him felt free. Laomann was the new laird, who wouldn’t be violent or manipulative. He had other weaknesses—too many of them—but the castle had breathed in relief. Everyone had tiptoed for a while by the sheer power of habit, but, finally, they’d settled into their new life.
He had a strong suspicion that this narcissism, as Rogene called it, might also be something Euphemia suffered from. How would he be able to live with a female version of his father for the rest of his days? Would he become another punching bag for his wife, a shield she’d use to gnaw her teeth on? Was there truly no other way to repay the tribute and stop her from attacking Kintail?
He’d wanted Rogene from the moment he’d seen her. His desire for her only grew the more he got to know her. And there she was—he could just reach out with his hand and touch her. And she wouldn’t want to bend him to her will and make him submit. She was healing, and light, and she was putting him together, piece by piece…
Just look at those pink, rosy lips, the gentle curves, the feminine body, all warm, smooth, and soft. And he wanted not just her body, but also her heart, her compassion, courage, and strength. He wasn’t married to Euphemia yet. He hadn’t yet said his marriage vows.
He could still choose desire. He could still choose freedom. If his brother and Rogene were right, he’d fulfilled his duty to the clan. He’d sacrificed enough. Was it time for him to put himself first?
It was, he thought. He’d had enough of living under the weight and the curse of a man who was long dead. He’d wanted to rebel against him then, but he never had. It was time he rebelled against that legacy of fear now.
Making the decision felt as if he’d cracked open a shell he’d been living in for years.
“I wilna marry Euphemia,” he said, his voice rough.
Rogene’s eyes widened, and the brightest smile illuminated her face. She beamed like sunlight, her cheeks growing rosy, but then her face fell. “Wait, what?”
“I’ll tell her now,” he said, rising up, but Lady Rogene caught his arm and pulled him back.
“Wait…”
He sat down and lost his balance a bit and leaned into her. Her face was so close now, her big eyes bright, and dark, and shiny. And those lips… Oh, dear Lord, those lips were so tender, and so beautiful his heart squeezed.
“I wilna marry her, Lady Rogene,” he whispered against her lips and claimed her mouth, swallowing the words I want to marry ye instead…
Chapter 20
Angus’s lips were soft but firm, his beard tickling her face. Rogene melted against him as he wrapped his strong arms around her and drew her to himself. Her head spun, as though she were on a helicopter that was spiraling out of control.
What are you doing? a voice screamed in her head. Did you just break off the marriage of Angus Mackenzie and Euphemia Ross? Did you just change history?
No, she couldn’t do it! She couldn’t give in to her own desires. She’d come here and mixed everything up. If Angus didn’t marry Euphemia, she wouldn’t bear him Paul Mackenzie, who’d save Robert III, the founder of royal Stuart line. Hundreds of years of Scottish history would be erased and changed. All because of her.
She pushed herself away from him. “I need to tell you something,” she said, breathing heavily, her body feeling like it were dissolving and melting into warm wax.
