Andrew didn’t know what to say. Ena was right, of course. His own words to Anna came back to him. Nay, ye’ve got it backwards. Da threw ye in the dungeon because of yer name. Ye saved Davy because of who ye are. There’s a huge difference. We love ye because of who ye are, in spite of yer name. After all this he still continued to think of her as Anna MacKay, a guest and an outsider, rather than the woman who would become Lady MacLeod.
Their father sighed. “We didn’t intend to insult her. I truly didn’t want her overworked and she is so very good with Davy. Not to mention she…ah…encouraged Andrew to spend more time with him too.”
Ena smiled. “Did she? Well, good for her. Don’t underestimate her—she will be able to manage both Davy and a household. Most noble women do.”
Dougal nodded. “Aye, ye’re right, sweetling.”
“So, I’ll get no arguments from ye on this? Either of ye?” She glared at Andrew.
Andrew put up his hands. “No arguments.”
~ * ~
Since Anna had not been allowed to do anything but mind Davy, once Andrew started paying more attention to the lad, she had even less to occupy her time. She often retreated to her solar alone to do needlework. Frankly, she was thankful for the hours she was able to spend in seclusion. When she was with the MacLeods, particularly Davy, she worked to maintain a pleasant, happy demeanor, but it wasn’t always easy. As each hour passed, she dreaded her wedding more and more. The days and years that seemed to stretch out before her promised to be dismally empty. When she was alone, she didn’t have to pretend a cheerfulness she didn’t feel.
She had retreated into this solitude the previous evening when Davy burst in with news that the Chisholms had arrived. She had no time to compose herself before he had pulled her down the stairs and across the hall towards his Aunt Ena.
Ena Chisholm had blond hair and blue eyes just like all of Dougal’s children, and while she was taller than Anna, she was dwarfed by the tall, bearded warrior beside her. He had long dark hair that was beginning to show some gray at the temples. This must be Fearghas Chisholm, Laird Chisholm’s heir, and he was every bit as frightening as Graham had said.
Even though Ena was only thirteen years older than Anna, when Ena had embraced her, it felt like she imagined a mother’s embrace would. And for a moment Anna had the profound sense that everything would be all right.
Before she had been fully aware of what was happening, she was at the table, and surrounded by Chisholms. Ena pulled her into conversation and some of the strain she had been feeling began to ease. She was floored when the meal was over and Ena simply included her in the plans for the next day. Frankly, Ena she left Anna a little in awe.
When Anna had awakened this morning, for the first time since that fateful trip to the strait, she was excited about what the day would bring. That was until Andrew interfered. So crestfallen was she that she found herself blinking back tears at the thought of another day locked away in her solar. But to her surprise Ena appeared ready to do battle with him, all but dragging him from the hall.
Fearghas Chisholm’s rumbling chuckle drew Anna’s attention. He flashed her a huge smile. “Anna, pet, ye have a new champion, and yer betrothed is about to be eviscerated by her.”
“What do ye mean?”
“Ena is not overly happy that her da and brothers are not letting ye assume the role ye deserve in the clan, and when Ena isn’t happy, there’s no one happy.”
“I’m sorry.”
Fearghas laughed richly. “There’s no need for ye to be sorry—they deserve it. Frankly, it’s only fair that Dougal get a taste of her wrath once in a while. After all, he raised her.”
Anna smiled at him but was still worried. When Ena reappeared in the hall she looked completely unruffled. “Well now, Anna, shall we find Brenda?”
Fearghas laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks. “Aye. Go,” he said between chuckles. “I’ll tend the wounded if she left any survivors.”
Ena snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “My husband exaggerates. I was just helping them recognize a minor error in judgement.”
Anna smiled, but didn’t know what to say, so she just followed Ena.
The morning sped past. Ena directed work subtlety, deferring often to Anna. It wasn’t long before the MacLeod women turned first to Anna for a decision on something. By time for the midday meal, Anna realized she wasn’t having to force her cheerfulness and she certainly didn’t feel isolated.
~ * ~
Andrew went fishing with Fearghas, Fearghas’ squire Tadhg, Davy, Graham and several guardsman. He didn’t see Anna until the midday meal and wanted to sit with her to find out how things were going. He had hoped his sister was right—that the staff would accept Anna’s leadership, but he wasn’t completely sure. He would feel awful if they did anything to hurt Anna. However, once again Ena pulled Anna into a seat near her family and well away from him. After the meal they disappeared again.
He frowned, thinking maybe he would follow them, just to be sure all was well. But as he rose from the table his father called. “Andrew, come to my solar. I want to go over some accounts.”
Andrew sighed. He would seek Anna out later.
He followed his father to the solar, but before long they were interrupted by Colin.
“Laird, two Morrison guardsmen have arrived and wish to speak with ye.”
Dougal frowned. “Show them in.”
Two older men stepped into the solar and bowed. “Good afternoon, Laird MacLeod. My name is Gordon and this is Conan,” he gestured to the other guardsman, a fearsome looking warrior with a scarred face. “We bring a message from Laird Morrison.”
“Laird Morrison sent guardsmen to deliver a message?” asked Laird MacLeod.
Gordon nodded. “I fear we bring distressing news from Laird Morrison. He suffered an apoplexy two evenings ago. He still lives but cannot move the right side of his body. He fears he may die soon and would like to see his sons. We have come to escort Darach home.”
“Ah, poor man. Of course he wants his children with him. I believe he has a daughter too?”
Gordon nodded. “Aye, Laird, he does.”
Andrew’s father frowned. “He hasn’t sent for her?”
“Not as yet, Laird.”
Dougal’s frown deepened. “That’s unfortunate. Poor lass.” He gave a heavy sigh. “Well, I’ll go find Darach.”
“I can go, Da.”
His father shook his head sadly. “Nay, Andrew. I should be the one to tell him. Show these men to the hall and see they’re given refreshment.” To the Morrison guardsmen he said, “I expect ye plan to return to Lewis as soon as ye can.”
“Aye Laird,” answered Conan. “If we leave within the hour, we can make Durness before dark and sail on the morning tide. We’ll reach Castle Morrison tomorrow evening.”
Chapter 15
Darach and his father’s guardsmen arrived at Castle Morrison the next evening as planned.
Gordon said, “It’s good to be home.”
“Aye,” agreed Darach, but the truth was Castle Morrison hadn’t felt like home since he was a wee lad. He had lived at Curacridhe for most of his life. He barely knew his oldest brother. Fearchar was thirteen when Darach was born and had already been training with Frasers for several years. He didn’t return until after Darach had been sent to the northern Highlands to train with the MacLeods. He spent a bit more time with his brother, Coll, who was only six years older. Darach remembered following him like a puppy when he was little. Coll hadn’t minded having a little brother under foot. He affectionately called Darach his wee beastie. Darach had been heartbroken when at the age of eleven, Coll went to train with the Macauleys. Still, given that the Macauleys were less than a day’s ride away, at least Darach had seen him frequently over the next two years.
He was probably closest to his sister Claire. She was only a year older and he remembered her being fun and always up to some mischief.
That was until Da had m
arried again. His father’s new wife, Gavinia, had encouraged Da to send Claire to be educated at an abbey and Darach into training immediately. Neither of them had wanted to go, and he’d thought Da wouldn’t want them to either. He idolized his Da, and had spent a great deal of time with him after Coll left. Darach still remembered overhearing the argument between his father and Gavinia.
“Gavinia, I’m not ready to send Darach away. Seven is too young.”
“Tyree, ye baby yer sons. Many lads are sent off to train as young as six.”
“I know they are, but I still think that’s too young. And I see no reason to send Claire away at all.”
“Her behavior is atrocious. She needs to be reined in immediately, and there is no better place for her to learn discipline than an abbey.”
“But I had hoped ye would—”
“Is that why ye married me? So that I would take care of the children ye have let run wild?”
“Nay, Gavinia, but—”
Gavinia sniffled, as if in tears. “I think ye care more for them than ye do me.”
“Lass, it isn’t a case of more or less. They are my youngest children. Ye’re my wife.”
“Aye, I’m yer wife, the one who is carrying yer youngest child at this moment. I want to be able to focus all of my energy on raising our children.”
“Are ye carrying?” His father’s voice had sounded excited.
“Aye, I am. And I do not need the stress of an uncontrollable lass and a boisterous wee lad. If ye care about me and yer new child, ye’ll do as I’ve asked.”
So Da chose his new wife over his children, or at least that is what Darach believed at the time.
Darach remembered Claire’s heart-wrenching sobs as Da’s guardsmen rode away with her. He also remembered begging Da if he had to leave home, to let him go to the Macauleys to train, so at least he would be with Coll and not so far away.
“Nay, lad. I need to establish better ties with some of the clans on the mainland. Laird MacLeod will be a strong ally, and many of the ports we use to ship goods are in MacLeod territory.”
So praying that his father would change his mind, Darach left his home to go live with strangers. Thankfully, they didn’t remain strangers long. Laird and Lady MacLeod made all of the young men training there feel welcome and even loved. Darach had never experienced a mother’s love, and he adored Lady MacLeod. Perhaps that is why it was so important to him to help wee Mairi as her mother was dying. He missed his own sister, and he knew all too well how it felt to live without a mother.
Nay Castle Morrison wasn’t his home.
When he entered the great hall, both his brothers sat near the hearth, drinking tankards of ale. There was no denying that all three of them were brothers or that Tyree Morrison was their father. They were all tall with dark hair and gray eyes, but there were distinct differences as well. Coll perhaps looked most like Darach remembered their father looking, strong and lean with a close-trimmed beard. Fearchar wore a heavy beard, had a thicker upper body and a bit of a paunch. At only seventeen, Darach was thin, lanky and clean-shaven, the hair on his face still too sparse to have a beard that wouldn’t be laughed at.
Coll rose immediately, crossing the hall to greet Darach. He looked weary but his smile was warm as he shook Darach’s hand. “Little brother, it’s good to see ye.”
“Ah, it looks like yer wee beastie is nearly grown,” called Fearchar from where he sat. “Come, sit with us, Darach, and refresh yerself with a tankard of ale.”
“Thank ye, Fearchar, but I should really see Da first.”
“That can wait ‘til morning. Da isn’t going anywhere, not even to the garderobe—trust me.”
Coll, whose back was to Fearchar, rolled his eyes in disgust. “Nay, Fearchar, ye know Da wanted Darach sent up as soon as he arrived.” To Darach he added, “I’ll go with ye.”
Fearchar grunted. “It’s pointless, but suit yerselves.”
As he and Coll climbed the tower stairs, Darach said, “I expect yer training is done now isn’t it?”
“I suppose so, although before this, I hadn’t planned on coming home just yet.”
“Have ye returned for good then?”
Coll frowned. “Aye, it seems I must. Da is very frail. He won’t live long, Darach. He knows Fearchar is a fierce warrior, but our brother has never been as attentive to the other skills needed to lead a clan. Da is worried we’ll not prosper long without someone to help mind clan business.”
“What does Fearchar think of that?”
Coll snorted. “He quite likes the idea of having all of the power of a laird, with none of the responsibility.”
“What about Claire? Have ye sent for her?
Coll shook his head sadly. “Nay, and we won’t. Da doesn’t wish to see her.”
Darach could scarcely believe his ears. “Why not?”
“I don’t know, Darach. I think maybe he feels guilty. As I understand it, he tried several times to convince Gavinia to let Claire return home. Gavinia always fought against it and he always gave in to her.”
“Did Claire decide to take vows?”
“Nay, and for that reason, please don’t mention her in front of Fearchar. It’s better that he not think about her for now, else he’ll see her as a pawn. I hope to be able to learn her wishes. If she wants marriage, maybe I can put things in place before Fearchar pays too much attention to her. Perhaps I can find a husband for her who Fearchar will see as an advantageous match and who will also treat her well.”
~ * ~
Fearchar shook his head in disgust as Coll and Darach left the hall. “Wasting their time. Da’s nothing but a shell,” he muttered to the fire.
Well at least his poor health returned the beastie from MacLeod clutches.
“Why do I care? As long as he’s there, he’s out of my hair.”
It should try ye sorely. After all they were the ones who stole yer bride.
“Shut up.”
Why? Ye know it’s true. Ye know she’d be yers if MacLeod hadn’t stolen her.
“Aye. She’d have been mine.
Yer little brother bends the knee to Dougal and yer bride’ll be forced to spread her legs for Andrew. And all because she did them a kindness.
“It isn’t fair. He doesn’t deserve her.”
And ye do. Ye’re not going to let this pass are ye?
“Go away.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I just thought ye might like more ale.”
The feminine voice startled him until he realized it was just a serving maid. He glanced at her. She was one he’d enjoyed before. “Aye, I’d like more ale. And I’d like to be served in my chamber. Ye ken?”
“Aye, sir. But I still have work to do tonight.”
“And ye can finish it when we are done.”
“Aye, sir.”
~ * ~
When Darach and Coll reached their father’s chamber, Coll knocked and they entered. Their father appeared to be asleep. He looked old and frail, nothing like the Da who Darach remembered. His squire sat next to the bed but stood when they entered.
“Sawny, this is our youngest brother, Darach,” said Coll.
Sawny gave a slight bow. “Good evening, sirs.”
“How fares our father tonight?” asked Coll.
Morrison opened his eyes. “Same,” he croaked. His gaze swept the room, landing on Darach. The left side of his mouth turned up in a smile, his rheumy eyes filling with tears. “Darach, ye’re here.” His voice was slow and slurred. Tyree lifted his left hand, reaching towards his youngest son.
Darach took his hand. “Aye, Da.”
“Missed ye.”
What could he say? In truth, over the years his father had become a stranger Darach seldom thought about. “I’ve missed ye too, Da.”
“Stay.”
“Of course, Da,” said Darach, releasing his father’s hand and taking the chair Sawny had vacated. “I’ll stay as long as ye wish.”
His father shook his head, appearing
agitated. “Stay. Stay.”
Coll stepped forward, patting his father on the shoulder. “It’s all right, Da, I’ll explain for ye.” Turning to Darach, he said, “Da is asking ye to stay here for good.”
“Leave the MacLeods?” Leave his real home and the people he cared about to stay here with the shell of the man who had sent him away ten years ago? “But my training isn’t finished.”
“I know,” said Coll. “Da wants ye to finish yer training here at home with me…and Fearchar.”
It took a concerted effort for Darach to keep the bitterness from his voice. “I’ll stay as long as ye need me to, Da.” At least it wasn’t a promise to stay forever, a detail his brother didn’t miss.
After their Da was settled for the night, the two brothers returned to the great hall. Fearchar had evidently retired too. Coll filled tankards with ale and they sat by the hearth, talking for quite a while before Coll raised the issue.
“Darach, when Da asked ye to stay, ye do know he meant for good? Not just until…well until he doesn’t need ye anymore?”
“Aye, that was my impression.”
“But…?”
“I want to finish my training with Laird MacLeod.”
“But ye can finish it here. Ye’ve been away a long time.”
Darach shook his head. “Coll, ye were eleven and Fearchar twelve when ye were sent to train. But Gavinia wanted rid of me and Claire, and Da let her have her way. We were sent away at seven and eight to make room for the children she never had. At the time, Claire—dear God, her heart was broken. When they took her away…well, I’ll never forget the sound of her sobbing.” He scrubbed his face, as if trying vainly to wipe away the memory. “If I had to leave home, I wanted to train with ye. Da said he needed the alliance with MacLeod, and so off I went. I barely remember my life here.”
Captured Hearts and Stolen Kisses Page 157