His father sipped again, the fine teacup, brought from England with his mother decades ago, seeming like naught but a child’s toy in his father’s large paw. When he set the cup down again, he said, “I only wonder why. Your mam said you were fond of the lass, but I had no’ seen any evidence of that.”
He shared an open relationship with his father, but Alec wasn’t sure he wanted to discuss his feelings with Katie with him at this point, having not identified them beyond his desire for her.
“Were you hoping yet I’d have aligned myself with the Camerons or the MacGowans or the MacGillewies?” It hadn’t been mentioned for years, but in his youth, his father had made his wishes clear.
“I’d given up that dream a long time ago,” he answered, waving a hand to dismiss this. He folded his hands over his midsection and shrugged, tipping his face to his son. “Might have dodged an arrow with that MacGowan chit. Word has it she’d killed her husband on their wedding night.”
“Christ,” Alec said.
“Aye, I approve. No reason to deny it. But lad, tell me you have some feeling for her. Swordmair needs a strong chief, no’ one constantly embroiled in marital discord because he made the wrong choice. The woman behind ye is as important as the castle and the people before you.”
His hackles raised a bit, Alec challenged, “Aye, you say you approve, but I’m no’ sensing that, no’ wholly.”
Alexander pulled his legs off the stool before him and leaned toward his son, his hands resting on his knees. “I canna read ye though, lad. What are ye thinking? What’s she mean to ye?” He threw up his hands then. “Closed off, all of ye, never ken what’s boiling in that head of yours.” At Alec’s surprised look, he grumbled, “She’s a fine lass, better than some I ken, but she brings nothing to you, no land, no coin, nothing but someone else’s whelp.”
Alec’s jaw clenched. He felt his lip curl. “I dinna need her to bring me anything. Swordmair has no need. I dinna want or need land or coin—and Henry is a fine lad. I’d be proud to call him son.”
His father scoffed, sitting back again, throwing his hand out dismissively, taking his gaze from his son, as if he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, be convinced otherwise.
“You dinna ken her at all, do you? You say she’s fine but you dinna ken how strong she is or what she’s survived, how resilient she is. You think Henry manages to be that exceptional a lad by a woman who was not clever and warm and loving? She puts all needs before her own—Jesu, Malcolm said she was laundering in the dark the other night, she hadn’t enough time in the day. Brave enough to strike out with us, with nothing but our promise that Swordmair would be better, trying to make something out of nothing for her son.”
“Bah!” His father sneered.
Alec thrust himself from the chair. “Are you dotty then? You live with mam all these years yet you can no’ see how good she is, how magnificent she is? Did you no’ see her at supper tonight? Wanting only to visit and relax but plagued all evening by one after another—this ache, that pain, why is my bluidy piss green?—and she smiles, dinna say nae, gives all her attention and time. And never mind that she’s so bluidy beautiful, it’d make you weep or that she wears every fecking emotion on her sleeve even as she tries to avoid them all, so scarred by what life has done to her already—but you can no’ see how perfect she is! Are you that blind?” His hands fisted, his disbelief at rather an unholy level. He ground out to his father, “Bluidy land! Coin! I dinna need anything but her. Katie.”
And with that his father lifted his merry gaze and a huge smile to his son.
Alec’s jaw unclenched. Slowly, until his mouth gaped with confusion.
“Aye, lad. That’s all I wanted to ken, that ye were in love with her. Bursting with it, by my reckoning.” While Alec continued to gawk at his father for his merciless deception, his sire added with an innocent glint in his eye, “Your mam and I only want you happy.”
“Bluidy hell.”
“YOO-HOO!”
Katie turned, hearing the mistress’s airy little voice near.
There was absolutely nothing that she didn’t like about Magdalena MacBriar, she thought, as she watched the woman navigate the uneven ground of the trail leading up to the castle. Many parts jiggled as she moved, her chin, her middle, her wiry hair.
“Good day, mistress,” Katie greeted.
Maddie flapped one hand in the air, a greeting perhaps, or a steadying arm as her little legs were propelled into speed by the slant of the hill. “Aye, it is, unless ye keep up with that mistress bit.”
“Apologies, it seems a disrespect to address you by your given name,” Katie defended.
“The disrespect comes, lass, when you dinna heed my bidding.” She stopped then in front of Katie, needing another few seconds to catch her breath before lifting her button eyes to Katie. “I was just down with Martha,” she said, lifting a basket filled with lace. “Three yards lace for naught but the herring and two pounds bacon. Aye and that’s a good bargain. Now, what’s this I hear you’re to wed my son?”
Katie’s eyes widened. Alec had said yesterday, in the moments after she’d accepted his proposal, that he’d be telling his mother and father—seeking the laird’s permission, as it were—but she’d yet to see him today to know if he had.
“Well, yes,” she stammered. “He had asked, and I...I said aye.” Quickly, she qualified, “With your husband’s approval, of course.”
“Aye, they spoke this morning,” Maddie said. “Alec dinna want to wait, so the laird sent down for the bishop’s signature, and thinks we can make it happen in the next week or so.”
This surprised her. Truthfully, she hadn’t thought anything about a date being set, hadn’t thought much over the past twenty-four hours—hadn’t even shared the news with Henry—but that she had said she would wed Alec MacBriar. The very thought since had only brought an equal amount of thrill and uneasiness. The thrill was easy to explain, to acknowledge, as his very presence had done that to her almost from the beginning. The uneasiness, however, she’d only just understood this morning, had only just realized that she was afraid that she might be in love with him, but that he had no corresponding feeling toward her. He liked her, she imagined—no, she truly believed that he did—but she understood there was no greater emotion attached to his proposal. He was an honorable man, and he felt some dutiful responsibility toward her, both because he’d taken her from her home and because they’d lain together. He was a most capable man; he fought bravely and proudly, rode his destrier as if carried by the wind and good grace, could melt hearts with a smile if he but tried, was a good son and friend and practiced compassion likely without even being aware that he did. But love? Katie wasn’t sure Alec MacBriar would allow himself to feel something so nebulous as love. Desire? Aye. But love? She just couldn’t be sure.
“Of course, you’ll have to start spending some time up at the keep,” Maddie said. “You’ll need to learn all about the management of Swordmair, if you’re to be her next mistress.” She went on, began to list all the functions and obligations accorded to the mistress of such a great keep.
Katie only listened with half an ear, her mind repeating what she’d convinced herself this morning. It was all right that he didn’t love her. She would have the security of the man and his family and Swordmair, so much more than she’d ever allowed herself to imagine she might know in her life. Her child—children?—would never know hunger or cold or fear. She would be pleased to be by his side all the rest of her days. She felt certain she could love him—if she did—and not need to be loved in return, being otherwise so richly rewarded as his wife.
Having decided this, confident in her assessment, Katie gave her full attention to Alec’s mom, just in time to hear her say, “Aye, I’m all for it, lass. Haven’t had a family wedding in eons. Couldn’t be happier.”
Katie smiled and was about to give her gratitude to the woman when Maddie stopped and grabbed firmly at Katie’s sleeve. “Of course, if you hurt him or bring
him pain, I’ll have to kill you, lass.”
HENRY BURST THROUGH the door, holding the handle yet as he called out, “Is it true?”
Katie’s hand flew to her chest with a fright for his exploding in like that. “Is what true?”
“Maddie said you and Alec are going to wed.”
That was not how she wanted her son to find out. She’d planned to tell him quietly, just here, inside their cottage. She supposed, however, his wide-eyed, grinning façade suggested it didn’t matter how he’d learned of it; he seemed well-pleased.
“Aye, it is true, but I’d wanted to tell you myself.”
“We’re going to live up in the keep? And do I get to call him da’?”
“Come inside, Henry.” The whole village didn’t need to hear this conversation. She set down the mending she’d been working on, the fantastic new holes Henry had made in his brown breeches.
He did, though he left the door open. He sat at the table with Katie.
“Yes, we are to wed,” Katie said, lowering her voice, hoping he would do the same. “And aye, we’ll move up to the keep afterward.”
“Eleanor said—”
“Good grief. Who else did you talk to about this?”
“Eleanor was there in the kitchen when Maddie told me.”
Curious and yet cautious, Katie asked, “What did—did Eleanor say anything?”
Henry shook his head. “She just smiled, but only the funny one. The one that dinna show her teeth.”
Eleanor smirked, Katie gathered, finding this amusing and not alarming, as she might have at one time.
Henry continued to jabber, telling her that Maddie did this and Eleanor said that, all of it quite lovely, until he said, “Maddie said I could stay up at the keep, said I’d have my own room always, that she would fix it up tonight if I want.”
Katie was surprised how this clutched at her heart. Both Maddie’s kindness to Henry and then whatever it was that tugged at Katie’s heart that she asked, “You would leave me here by myself until the wedding?”
“Aw, mam,” Henry said, a bit of a wince coming, having detected the disappointment in her tone. With great practicality, making a deal with her so that everyone was pleased, he offered in his small voice, “Mayhap I’ll sleep one night there and the next here, and then one night there again, and the one after that here.”
She nodded and tried to smile, even as she realized just now that she wasn’t ready for all these changes, so many and all coming at once. She could handle Henry gone all day, with friends, up at the keep, with Eleanor, because she had him all to herself every night and morning, just the two of them, as it had been for so long.
That would be taken from her as well, she just realized. She wasn’t ready.
Unaware of his mother’s sudden dismay, Henry asked, “Can I go back up to the keep?”
She nodded stiffly, her eyes watering, happy for the reprieve that she might cry without him seeing it. Swallowing thickly, she said, “I’ll be up shortly for supper.”
He was out the door then, quick as he’d come, and Katie put her arms onto the table and buried her head there with her sadness, let the sorrow come.
Aye, he’d leave her eventually, she’d always known. Even now, he’d begun to spread his wings. But she didn’t have to like it, and she was sorry that her decision now to marry Alec would speed things along in that regard. And truthfully, there was little consolation in the fact the Henry himself was so enamored with these changes.
“Prospect of a wedding got ye down?”
Katie startled at Eleanor’s voice, lifting her face, wiping at her tears with jerky hands. She made to stand but Eleanor waved her to sit and joined her at the table.
In typical Eleanor fashion, she said, “I’d be crying to.”
This made Katie smile and she tried to explain her sudden anguish. “It just dawned on me that my life with Henry will never be the same. It’s been just he and I for so long—forever, it seems. And now...now, that’ll be done.”
Eleanor’s straight brows angled downward. “Christ, you really love that lad.”
Katie burst out laughing. “Aye, Elle. I do.”
“I canna see myself feeling that much...of anything for this one.”
Katie could not resist the jibe, “This one is not an acceptable replacement for it. And of course you will.”
Eleanor shrugged and changed the subject. “So why are you marrying Alec?”
Katie drew a deep breath, not having expected the extremely forthright question. “I suppose because he asked.”
Now Eleanor lifted a disbelieving brow, tilting her head with some disapproval. “I dinna think so.”
Eleanor had shared incredibly personal information with Katie yesterday that she felt now she owed the same to her. She gave her own shrug and admitted, “Of course, I like him and we seem to get on—”
“Aye, and that’s all horseshite. I’m wanting to ken if you’re doing it simply to make your place all the better here. Because if you’ve no feeling for the man then tell him you’ve changed your mind. Do no’ wed him. He dinna need that kind of wife, that kind of marriage. You’re a decent sort, I ken, but you’re no’ a simpleton and I ken you have to survive but—”
Katie pushed her hands forward on the table, palms up. “I’ll stop you right there, before you kill the friendship with whatever else might spring from your mouth.”
“We’re no friends if—”
“Aye, we are,” Katie said. “Stop being the mean warrior woman because I know you are actually only a warrior woman and not at all mean. And listen to me. I do have feelings for him. I’m not sure...what they are, though. I haven’t quite processed it myself, but something happened and then—”
“Did you sleep with him?”
Katie rolled her head back, staring at the ceiling. When she faced Eleanor again, she rather snapped, “Yes, we did, if that’s all right with you. So now he feels guilty or something—duty—I’m not sure. But he seemed to like the idea—of marriage—which he suggested, and it occurred to me that I...seemed to like the idea as well...so...there you have it.”
“So you are in love with him.”
Katie almost hated her for dragging out what she’d yet to fully wrap her head around herself. “I might be.” She rubbed her hands over her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“I’m no’ surprised though, actually.”
Katie put her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand and sighed, resigned that they were going to discuss this fully, until Eleanor was satisfied. “Which part doesn’t surprise you?”
“All of it. I’ve been with the MacBriars for nearly seven years and far as I ken, he’s never been with anyone.” Eleanor lifted and dropped her broad shoulder again. “Aye, tarts here and there, not often enough to my way of thinking. But they’d come at him left and right, the wedding kind. He dinna care, never saw them. Never made sense to me. Then he sees you and...everything changes. I dinna get it at first. Malcolm was useless, had no insight, just grins, makes me want to slap him.”
Katie frowned. “Are you saying I’m not...worthy of him, that you cannot understand what he...” she let it go when Eleanor shook her head so vehemently.
“Nae, no’ like that. In some ways, I guess it makes sense. He’d give Malcom the business all the time, ye can no’ save ’em all, but he’s just as bad, needs to be someone’s hero, I guess. They think they can save the whole world.”
Katie snorted. “So I’m pathetic and that attracts him? Fabulous.”
“Aye,” Eleanor said, drawing another frown from Katie, until she clarified, “He ken you were, that’s what intrigued him, but then he realized you really were no’ and to my eye, he was even more intrigued.”
“Did you come then, to make sure I am not playing false, or would not—”
“Aye. I’d have to kill ye if you did,” Eleanor stated casually, promising, “they’d never find the body.”
Completely undaunted, Katie informed her, “You a
re the second person to threaten my life today, with some fear that I will break his very hard heart.” At Eleanor’s look of inquiry, Katie explained, “His mother has already promised to cause my death if I bring him any grief.”
Eleanor showed no shock at all. “She would, too. She’d cut you like a Yuletide hog.”
Katie’s eyes did widen at this, but Eleanor continued, “But I dinna actually come here for that, though I’m pleased to ken you and he’ll do just fine. I came to ask if...if you...shite...if you can help me—I thought I’d—”
Katie watched with amazement as Eleanor just stopped, pursing her lips and staring hard at Katie, struggling to get all the words said. “Just spit it out,” she suggested.
“I want to dress like you,” Eleanor blurted.
Katie couldn’t help that her eyes remained so huge in her face. She quickly recovered, or hoped she did and laughed nervously, glancing down at her own meager gown, the brown frock, the one Alec had sliced that she’d since repaired. “I don’t really think you do, Eleanor.”
“I ken I should wear a gown,” she said, then supposed, “Maybe. Sometimes.”
“But why?”
“Honestly, I dinna even ken.”
“Elle, I always imagined you were fairly comfortable in your own skin. Why would you—do you think Malcolm minds that you don’t wear frocks?”
Eleanor scoffed. “I dinna give a rat’s arse what he thinks. I just, I dinna ken, maybe I miss it sometimes. Being more...feminine. Aye, and mayhap I dinna want my bairn wondering why his mam looks like his da’.”
Katie supposed, “It would likely be easier, the further along you grow with the bairn. And of course, you’re gorgeous, you’d be quite striking in, well, probably anything. But is there a market town nearby to purchase readymade wares? My stitches are neat, but I have very limited capabilities in the design of gowns, as you can plainly see.” She indicated again her own very simple frock.
The Love of Her Life (Highlander Heroes Book 6) Page 21