tugging relentlessly at her heart.
“ ’Tis better that my family believe I am dead, as was reported a year ago. I could never face them. I could never shame them thus. No man would ever want me, Ian McHugh’s whore. I would never gain an advantageous marriage. I would be a burden to my father and mother all the rest of their days. My mother’s heart would be broken, and they could never hold their heads up at court. Nay, ’tis better this way, for they have already mourned me and I died with honor. I would prefer that over living in shame and bringing dishonor to my family.”
Tears filled Taliesan’s eyes. “I hate him for what he did to you.”
Genevieve’s nostrils flared. “I hate him too, but ’tis a wasted emotion, for now he is dead and can never hurt one weaker than himself again. ’Tis time to pull together the pieces that remain and, hopefully, find … peace.”
“I will not rest until you are happy and well placed,” Taliesan ground out.
Genevieve smiled and laced her fingers through Taliesan’s and squeezed the other woman’s hand.
“I think we would have made great friends,” Genevieve said sadly. “Aye, I would count myself fortunate to have a friend such as you.”
Taliesan’s lips formed a tight, mutinous line. “I
am
your friend.”
Genevieve shook her head. “Nay, ’tis better this way. I would not have you suffer the condemnation of your clan because you associated yourself with me. You knownot the importance of such things. It takes only a few well-placed words to destroy a lass’s reputation and ruin her chances of marriage, children, or any sort of future. Heed my words, Talie. Beware whom you ally yourself with.”
“You speak of dishonor and of dying with honor over living with shame. There is no greater dishonor than choosing loyalty based on what it loses or gains me. If marriage, a husband, children, a secure future are my forfeit for choosing a friendship with a woman with more honor in her soul than the mightiest warrior, then I have no desire for those things.”
Genevieve’s eyes widened at the determination and utter sincerity in Taliesan’s impassioned speech. She had no response. What could she possibly say?
“I thank you then,” Genevieve said softly, emotion crowding her words. “I would be honored to call you friend for as long as I remain on these lands.”
Taliesan smiled and shook her head. “Nay, Genevieve. We are friends no matter where you go from here. ’Tis the way friendship works.”
Impulsively, Genevieve pulled Taliesan into a fierce hug. She closed her eyes, savoring the contact with the other woman. It had been so long since she’d had the comfort of another. Something as simple as a hug. The support of friendship. Unwavering support—and loyalty.
All the things she’d thought long lost to her.
For an entire year, Genevieve had known only brutality in the touch of another. Ian hadn’t allowed anyone other than himself to touch her, unless it was to cause her pain or humiliation. He guarded her jealously, like a prized plaything only he was allowed to indulge in. It had been the loneliest year of Genevieve’s life. It had changed her, and she didn’t like the person he’d made her into.
Genevieve slowly let go of Taliesan, reluctant to sever the bond, no matter how momentary it had been. She was starved for the simplest of things. Human touch. Laughter. A smile. The smallest moment of happiness. Affection. Camaraderie. All the things she’d enjoyed growing up in the arms of her loving family.
Taliesan caught Genevieve’s hands and squeezed. “What will become of us, you think?”
“I know not,” Genevieve said honestly. “Their anger is directed at Ian and your laird. Ian is now dead, and the laird is long gone from this place. ’Tis doubtful he’ll return. It would serve no purpose to vent their ire on the McHugh clansmen. They know well who was responsible for the injustice heaped upon Eveline
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