Brogan grunted, grinding his teeth.
Fin held up his hands in surrender, shaking his head. “Just an idea, man. Just an idea.”
Brogan nodded, and Fin walked away. But he was not yet ready to leave his thoughts.
What Fin said had merit. If he married her, she’d have his name and be protected by all the Grant clan. Even those on the opposite side would respect that he’d wed.
But would she agree?
Fiona was too much of a free spirit. She’d laugh in his face. But he supposed he ought to offer. Brogan had certainly been taking liberties in kissing her. And marriage wasn’t exactly something that seemed entirely horrid when he looked at Fiona. Which was why he’d ignored the tremor up his spine at the thought of being tied to anyone.
For years, the MacBeans and Grants had been at each other’s throats. Perhaps an alliance between the two of them would help assuage some of that. If clans would even still come back together after the Butcher was done destroying their country.
With his decision made to propose, Brogan frowned and turned around to head back to camp, running right into the lass who stood behind him.
“I didna hear ye approach,” he said, trying to hide his surprise.
“I’m sorry.” She smiled softly. “Is everything all right?”
“Fin was just pointing out to me how incredibly unsafe it is for ye to be on the road with us.”
Fiona’s brows drew together, and while she remained silent, he preferred her to rage at him. This was an argument they’d put to rest and he was bringing it up again.
“And ye agree with him?” she asked haughtily.
“Ye know my thoughts.”
Now she crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. “Ye want me to go back to my castle, which is equally dangerous given the redcoats traipsing through Inverness as though it were their own personal playground.”
“We killed the worst of them yesterday,” he offered.
Fiona scoffed. “I thought ye understood. I thought ye knew me better.” The words launched from her mouth like an arrow, lodging in his gut.
“I’m trying to protect ye, lass.”
“By locking me away?”
He shook his head. “Nay.”
“What, then?”
Brogan started to doubt his plan. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to propose to her. Not, at least, when she was shouting at him. “I dinna know.”
“This entire conversation is frustrating.”
Fiona pursed her lips, hands on her hips as she looked to the side, studying a tree, while he could practically hear the thoughts churning in her mind. One volatile line after another. At last, she turned back to him, a fierceness in her violet eyes that he’d only seen a couple of times since they’d met, and both times it had been when she was under attack.
“I asked if ye minded if I joined ye on this journey, and ye agreed. Now ye’re changing your mind. The only thing making me feel unsafe, Brogan Grant, is no’ knowing whether or no’ ye have my back. Ye’re either with me or ye’re against me, and right now it feels an awful lot like ye and I are no’ on the same side. Ye need to make a choice and make it fast, because I’m getting tired of the games.”
There really wasn’t a choice to make. As much as their two families had not seen eye to eye, he had no doubts now. “I am with ye.”
“Promise ye’ll never demand I return home. Promise that ye understand my need to continue on this mission.”
“I want to protect ye, lass.”
“Ye’re under no obligation to do so.”
No obligation, which he would be if he made her his wife.
Damn Fin for putting the thought into his mind.
Because if she were his wife, he could do more than protect her. He could kiss her whenever he wanted. Spread out his kilt right now and make love to her on the forest floor. The thought had the blood in his veins pumping hard. There was no doubting his desire for her.
His mind whirled with all the positives that would come from a union with her, and all that could go wrong. Was he ready to make that commitment? A moment ago, he had been. All this waffling back and forth was giving him a chance to back away, and he didn’t want to back away.
“What if I were under obligation?” He edged closer.
“What?” She sounded exasperated. “Are ye talking about Murray again?” Fiona touched her fingertips to her temples. “Just stop.”
“I was no’ talking about Murray.”
“What, then?” She spread her arms out, the frustration coming off her in waves.
“What if we…” The words died on his tongue, and he couldn’t seem to make his mouth work.
“What if we what?” Her eyes searched his, curiosity mixed with her irritation.
Anger started to spark inside him at the thought of something violent and vicious happening to her. “I canna let ye come so close to death again.”
She let out a loud groan, arms thrown up in the air. “We are both under threat of death, Brogan. No’ just me. We are in this together.”
“I canna risk another bastard thinking ye’re fair game to torment. I canna risk your safety. All I’ve done since we’ve met is try to save ye.”
The glower that turned full force toward him was enough to make him want to stand back. He watched her hands, expecting her to flick open the pocket in her belt and skewer him. “I’m no’ in need of saving. I can take care of myself.”
“I know ye can, lass, but sometimes even the strongest of women needs someone to lean on.”
“I’ve my family. Why would I need to lean on ye?”
The words stung, and even from the distance between them, he could see that she regretted saying them.
She let out a long sigh, as if trying to let go of some of the rage.
“Ye dinna need to lean on me, Fiona MacBean, but ye have, since the day of the battle—before that, if ye want to count me passing on your message. I have been there for ye. For no good reason, either. I could have left ye to your own devices, told ye to go off on your way. Trussed ye up and dumped ye on Dòchas’s doorstep, but I didna. I believed in ye, because I think ye play an important part in this shite fest we find ourselves in. Now, I’m proposing a different sort of alliance.”
“What are ye saying?”
“I’m saying that ye should… We should wed.”
“What?” The word was a bellow that sent several birds flying overhead. “Ye canna be serious. War is no reason to wed. Neither of us are the ones to make such important decisions based on clan alliances—especially given our clan history.”