And yet, despite the changes, there was enough about him that was also strangely familiar. His green eyes still sparkled in the light, just as she remembered. And the way those eyes looked into her, stripping her bare before him. It was frightening to see those eyes stare out from a face that had changed so much.
Time might have changed his appearance, but Lilidh doubted it had the same effect on the man he was. For too long he’d worn the persona of MacBrennan proudly. It was who he wanted to be; the feared left hand of the laird. How did a man undo the very thing he’d built himself around? It seemed like the long years spent in an English prison had afforded Mathe time for self-reflection, but actual change was another thing entirely.
Lilidh drew the pot back from the fire and stirred a spoonful into Fynn’s bowl, then made up a larger bowl for herself. “Sit with me,” she said, pushing her husband out of her thoughts. She could return to it as she walked to the castle.
Fynn climbed up onto the chair opposite and looked down at his bowl sadly. “I’m really no' hungry.”
“Go on,” Lilidh said, gesturing down at it. “We eat together.”
The boy sighed and nodded and began to slowly spoon it into his mouth. Lilidh ate hers faster, knowing she was already running late, and a brisk walk to the castle awaited.
“That wasnae so bad, was it?” she asked.
Fynn shrugged and pushed his bowl away. “I guess no'.”
“And now I’m away to work. Ye’ll be good?”
“Of course, mama,” he said.
“And what are the rules?”
“Dinnae leave the porch and dinnae open the door to strangers,” he recited.
She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. He squirmed back and rubbed his face in disgust and she couldn’t help but laugh, grabbing him close. She smelt his familiar smell and kissed the top of his head and he relented, hugging her back. This was all that mattered. Not husbands returned from the dead, and the problems they brought with them. Only herself and her son.
“I love ye, bhobain,” she said.
“I love ye, mama.”
Lilidh ruffled his hair and left the house. The neighbour rocked back and forth in his chair as he watched her skip carefully over the mud.
The walk up to the castle was normally difficult, but Lilidh barely noticed it, lost as she was in her own thoughts. She needed to tell Margaret. There really was no other option if she valued her job. And besides, the laird might have known already; perhaps Mathe had made himself known at the gates when he entered, or was recognised in the street.
No, the only thing to do was go straight to Margaret and tell her everything, including what she’d said to her husband; that she didn’t want him back in her life. He was a complication that had come at the worst possible time. Her position at the castle was the key to a house and a future for her son, and Mathe’s sudden reappearance was a risk that she simply didn’t need.
And if the laird didn’t know that Mathe was back? Well, so be it. He would learn it from her. She frowned at the small shred of guilt over the idea. What did she owe Mathe? The man abandoned her; walked out when she was with child, leaving her to survive on her own. If the castle didn’t know he was back, then they would learn it soon enough and ask Lilidh why she didn’t come forward herself.
No, being honest was the only way.
Lilidh entered the castle, nodding absentmindedly at the guards, and walked directly to Margaret’s study. She found the woman at her desk frowning over a stack of papers.
Margaret looked up. “Lilidh, is everything alright?”
“May I please have a moment of yer time?”
The woman gestured to the seat in front. “Aye, come in. What can I help ye with?”
Lilidh smoothed her dress and sat. “Chamberlain, this morning I had a visit from my husband.”
Margaret paused, her whole body going as still as a statue. “A… visit?”
“Aye.”
“Was it a vision?”
Lilidh shook her head. “Nay, it was an actual man.”
“I’m no' sure I ken.”
“I mean that Mathe MacBrennan knocked on my door this morning.”
The chamberlain’s eyes grew wide. “The actual Mathe MacBrennan?”
“Aye. He’s back, Margaret.”
The chamberlain nodded, her stare unfocused and her head bobbing up and down. “I see,” she said, over and over. “I see.”
“Margaret?” Lilidh asked. “Are ye alright?”
The chamberlain’s eyes snapped back to Lilidh, and she stood suddenly. “Wait here,” she said, and then swept out of the room.
Lilidh watched her depart in shock. That certainly wasn’t the reaction she was expecting. Her shift in the kitchen started soon, and she didn’t want to be late; goodness knew she didn’t need to give Cora any more reason to dislike her. Time stretched on and she drew shapes on the polished wooden tabletop, growing restless.
She stood and stretched her legs, then sat again. Then stood again. Then paced out into the corridor and back into the study. What was Margaret doing? Perhaps she should just return to the kitchen and begin work; after all, the chamberlain would know where to find her. But just as she was about to leave, loud footsteps came her way in the chamberlain’s signature brisk walk. Lilidh hurriedly returned to her chair and collapsed into it just as Margaret swept back into the room. She looked down at Lilidh, then gestured back the way she had come.
“Follow me,” she said grimly.
Lilidh leaped to her feet and followed, almost having to run to keep up. The chamberlain took her deeper into the bowels of the castle and then up a large flight of stone steps. Lilidh had never been up there before, but she knew where they led; everyone who worked in the castle did. It was the laird’s quarters. She felt an overwhelming sense of fear as she realised what Margaret was intending, and stopped at the top of the stairs.
Margaret turned impatiently. “Hurry now,” she said.
Lilidh shook her head. “I cannae,” she said. “No' the laird.”
“Why no'?”
“He must hate me,” Lilidh said in a small voice.
“Dinnae be silly,” Margaret said. “He doesnae hate ye. He might hate yer husband, but that’s all the more reason to come with me.”
Lilidh nodded and smoothed her dress again. “I look in a frightful state.”
Margaret growled. “That doesnae matter. Now come with me.” She turned away again without waiting for Lilidh to reply. The doors to the laird’s quarters had a single guard who stood at attention and he gave Margaret a small bow and nodded to Lilidh, who didn’t even have a chance to nod back, before she was ushered into the room beyond.
Her first thought was that it was dark inside. The windows at the far end were shuttered closed, and the only source of light was from a roaring fire to her left. In front of the fire, sitting deeply in a high-backed chair, was Laird Blaine McCaskill.
Lilidh looked at him with wide eyes. She’d met him once or twice when he was a boy, mostly through events in the castle, and then seen him around the town when he returned to Dun Lagaidh as a man. She had a strange feeling towards the McCaskill lairds - first Arran, and then his brother Blaine. She’d hated their father, the old laird, for the way he’d slowly turned Mathe into such a dark man. Although by all accounts Blaine was a good and just man, unlike his father in almost every respect, she nevertheless felt some sort of vague hostility towards him.
Blaine looked back at her, and the fire caused shadows to dance over his face. “Lilidh MacBrennan,” he said, gesturing to another chair by the fire. “Sit, please.”
Lilidh did as she was asked, doing her best to control her restless hands. “My thanks,” she said.
“Margaret tells me ye’re working hard.” His eyes flickered up to the chamberlain. “She’s a tough woman to impress.”
“Aye, well, I just try my best,” Lilidh said.
Blaine nodded. “That’s all we can do.” Then he leaned forwa
rd. “I hear ye had a visitor this morning.”
“Aye, my husband, returned from the grave.”
“Why did ye tell us?” Blaine asked. “Others might no' have been so immediately forthcoming.”
Lilidh shrugged. “I have nay loyalty to Mathe MacBrennan, and I need this job. I have a son to support.”
“MacBrennan’s son.”
“Aye, Mathe’s son.”
“Ye have nay reason to love the McCaskills, Lilidh MacBrennan.”
“Aye, but Fynn is everything to me,” Lilidh said, “and I’ve tried so hard to get a job that might allow me to give him a better life. Now that I have it, I willnae risk it. No' even for Mathe.” She paused and her face hardened. “Especially no' for Mathe.”
“That’s verra selfless of ye,” Blaine remarked.
“I dinnae want Mathe back, and I told him as much. I’ve moved on.”
“I think it’s fair to say that most of us have moved on, or are at least trying to.”
“Aye,” Lilidh replied.
“Most,” Blaine said, “but no' all.” He abruptly stood and paced the room, and Lilidh twisted in her chair to face him. After a moment, he paused and turned back with a smile on his face. “Sorry, bad habit of mine.”
“It’s nay bother,” Lilidh said.
Blaine nodded. “Ye've been honest with us, Lilidh, so I’m going to be honest with ye in return.” He resumed his pacing. “Ye see, MacBrennan’s sudden reappearance couldnae come at a worse time for us.”
“What’s happened?”
“Naught that we didnae already foresee,” Blaine said with a wave of his hand. “No' that it makes it easier to deal with, mind ye.” He looked down at Lilidh. “I’m going to hold ye in my confidence, and I ask that what we discuss doesnae leave this room.”
“Of course,” Lilidh said. “I have nobody to talk to, anyway.”
“Aye. Well, the truth is that there’s some unrest in the town, in response to recent events. I dinnae want to get into all the details, but there’s a chance of war breaking out between the MacDonalds and The King of Scotland, which will ultimately pull in every clan in the Highlands. But I’ve chosen to stand to one side, and to keep the McCaskills and the McPhees neutral. No' everyone agrees with my decision, though, and it’s clear that there’s a small group of people who are stirring up trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“The kind that ends with me being strung up by my entrails,” Blaine said grimly. “These are people who were loyal to my father, and who value his style of rule over my own. They want a return to the auld days of war and power, and by standing aside, they think I'm weak. These men dinnae dare to show themselves to me, no' yet, but are looking for any excuse to rise up. Tell me, Lilidh, can ye see the problem posed by yer husband’s return?”
Lilidh nodded slowly. “If they were the auld laird’s men, then they would see Mathe as a brother. Nay, as more than that. He was closer to the laird than anyone else.”
“Certainly closer to my father than I was,” Blaine agreed. “And ye’ve seen the truth of it. MacBrennan was more than my father’s man; he was father’s spirit. He was the sword that the auld laird wielded against his foes. To the men in town who plot against me, he might be more than a man. He could be a sign; a rallying point.”
“He tried to tell me he’d changed,” Lilidh said.
“Can men like MacBrennan change?”
Lilidh looked down. “I dinnae know,” she said in a small voice. “Can they?”
Blaine waved his hand. “I’ll leave that question to the philosophers. But the answer doesnae actually matter. MacBrennan will be a catalyst whether he wants it or no'. It’s like a game of chess, and it doesnae matter if he’s moving the pieces or being moved by others; the outcome will be the same.”
“I told him to leave town and never come back,” Lilidh said.
“And I’ll be telling him the same,” Blaine said. “Do ye know where he’s staying?”
“He said he might take lodging in the West Gate. But…”
“But?”
“He said he wouldnae leave. No' until he’d made amends.”
Blaine nodded. “Strictly speaking, he has done naught wrong yet; certainly no' enough for me to force him to leave.”
“But what about the past? Surely there are things he’d done for yer father?”
“Oh, aye,” Blaine answered. “But part of our truce with the McPhees included amnesty for any crimes previously committed in the name of war. I could argue that he committed crimes outside the scope of that war, but it would be tricky.”
“I dinnae ken,” Lilidh admitted. “Ye're the laird. Cannae ye do as ye please?”
Blaine shook his head almost ruefully. “Those days are fading fast. The MacDonalds are looking for any reason to attack us, either physically or through the rule of law. While I could banish MacBrennan without due process, it would leave me open to legal challenges that would bleed our treasury dry. I’m hoping that MacBrennan can be convinced to leave of his own accord.”
“Aye,” Lilidh said. “I hope so too.”
“But Lilidh,” Blaine said, fixing his gaze on her. “If he doesnae leave, and is serious about trying to make things right, then I cannae stop him from trying to see ye. All I ask is that ye continue to be honest with me. If ye see or hear something that ye feel I should know about, then come forward. I’ll no' press and I willnae pry, but just remember that ye and I have found ourselves in a situation that works well for both of us.”
“Of course,” Lilidh said quickly. “But I dinnae want to see him, and I willnae.”
“Sometimes what ye want and what ye get are two verra different things, and when it comes to affairs of the heart, there may be many twists and turns that ye dinnae foresee. Just remember what’s important to ye, and do yer best.”
“Aye,” Lilidh said. “I’ll do my best and keep working hard.”
“I know ye will,” Blaine replied and gestured to the door. “Thank ye for coming to me.”
Lilidh nodded and followed Margaret back to the kitchens to start her day, in a life that was suddenly so much more complicated than it was before.
6
Mathe MacBrennan
Mathe wandered aimlessly down streets both familiar and new, lost in the maze of his own thoughts.
Before he realised it, the sun had dipped and shadows stretched over the cobbled stones underfoot. The air turned colder, and he knew he’d need to think about shelter for the night. He’d stayed in the old farmhouse again after meeting Fynn, sleeping in the ruins of his old life, but the neighbour had spotted him as he left that morning and shook his head darkly. Mathe had little desire to get arrested for squatting, and it wouldn’t hurt to spend the night inside.
He looked around to take stock of where he was. The castle loomed to his right, black against the setting sun, putting him on the eastern side of town. He could have gone down into the old quarter to the Dog Ear, but as soon as he considered it, he knew he had little desire to step back into that place again. It was a place for MacBrennan, not for Mathe. Tonight, the West Gate would be good enough. And that it was close to Lilidh’s house was nothing but a fortunate coincidence.
As he passed the main avenue that ran to the castle, Mathe looked up. He’d almost spent more time at the castle than he had at his own home, towards the end of his time here, and the street was as steep and precarious as he remembered. He certainly didn’t envy Lilidh walking up and down every day, and admired her determination in the face of such terrible circumstances.
Circumstances which, of course, could be laid directly at his feet.
As he walked, Mathe stroked his beard and wondered how long he could remain unrecognised. Each time somebody stared at him, his heart quickened. Was it just his height, or did someone see something in his eyes? He felt a prickling between his shoulder blades as he walked and questioned each lingering gaze, his footsteps growing longer as he raced back to the western side of town, d
ucking into the West Gate without slowing.
The warm air surrounded him and he breathed in with satisfaction. It was certainly a good night to stay indoors, and not just for the strange feeling of being watched. The young man who spoke to him yesterday was still there, and a few tables were occupied. There was a pleasant hum of conversation around him and a fire roared at one end. He felt content with his decision to come here, where at least for one night, he could pretend he was simply just another man.
“Hello again, stranger,” the young man said. “Did ye find Miss MacBrennan?”
“Aye,” Mathe replied. “My thanks for yer help.”
“And what else can I do for ye?”
“Does Rabby Gordon still own the place?” Mathe asked.
“Aye, he does.”
“Is he here? I’d like to speak with him.”
The man shook his head. “Nay, he’ll be back in the morning. He’s down at Castle McPhee trading for fresh goods, but should be back before breakfast.”
Mathe nodded. “In that case, I think I might stay the night. So answering yer question, I’m after a meal and a bed.” He pulled out his coin purse and looked inside.
“And a drink?” the man asked.
Mathe frowned as he counted his coins. “Maybe just the meal and bed, for now.”
“Aye. In that case, welcome to the West Gate. My name is Gilroy, but people call me Gil.”
“Mathe.”
“Are ye hungry now, Mathe?”
“Aye, I wouldnae turn down a meal.”
Gil nodded. “In that case, why dinnae ye take a seat and I’ll have something brought over. I can check ye into yer room after ye’ve finished.”
Mathe nodded. “Sounds fine.”
Gil gestured to an empty table and Mathe sat down, tucking his legs underneath. He’d been walking all day, crisscrossing the town, and it felt good to give his feet a rest. He stretched back and closed his eyes and listened to the surrounding noise, and once again marvelled at things that he would have once taken for granted. It was funny how prison could do that. There were times, alone and in the dark, when Mathe would have traded anything for the chance to sit at a table surrounded by strangers. To listen to snatches of their conversation, to smell the ale in the air, and to feel the warmth of the fire on his cheeks.
A Price to Be Paid: A Scottish Highlander Romance (Legacy of the Laird Book 2) Page 6