Brighde thought she was going to be ill. The little food she had in her stomach churned, she felt bile rise in her throat, and she saw black dots dance before her eyes.
This is it. This is exactly what I didna want to have happen. He’s practically on the doorstep, and I have brought him here. I canna stay. I have to go. Tonight. I dinna want to be anywhere near the mon, but I would rather he catch me than any harm come to the Sinclairs. They have harbored me for long enough. I need to get to ma chamber. The sooner they believe I have retired for the night, the easier it will be for me to slip out. I can go out through the lady’s garden and slip out the postern gate. I never see many guardsmen there at night, and I have a clear view from ma chamber. Nay. Alex’s chamber. Alex. Dear God above. I amnae ever going to see him again. I canna even say goodbye. Mayhap I can find some vellum in his chamber. I ken there is a quill with ink, but I dinna ken where aught to write on is stored. A final insult. I write him a note after digging through his belongings all so that I can say that I’m leaving him.
Brighde felt even more lightheaded than she did a moment ago. It would not be hard for her to pretend that she needed to retire for the evening.
“Please excuse me. I amnae feeling well of a sudden.” She pushed back her chair and swayed slightly on her feet.
“Would ye like help up the stairs, Brighde?” Mairghread and Siùsan both began to stand.
“Nay. I am alright but thank ye. I just think I need to lie down. That was quite a lot to take in, and I need to think about what I am going to do next.” She had no intention of letting anyone know that she had already made up her mind about what she was going to do.
She turned to face Laird Sinclair and gave him a weak smile.
“Can we talk in the morn aboot what will happen with de Soules so nearby?”
Laird Sinclair was an astute man. He looked at her sagely before saying, “Sleep well, lass. It’ll all come right soon enough.”
Chapter Thirteen
Brighde quietly entered the chamber that she had begun to consider her own. She could still smell a faint trace of Alexander from his visit earlier that evening. The fire had burned low, but she saw no point in stoking it. She could not allow herself to fall asleep, or she would never make it out in time. She moved quietly to the armoire that housed all the borrowed gowns she had been wearing. She moved them aside and looked for her own plaid. She had no intention of ever wearing the Clan Kerr plaid again. Instead, she would burn it. She would be better off wearing a Sinclair plaid, but she knew that would not work. The only way to do that was to steal the one she had been lent, and she would have to cross part of Gunn territory anyway. It was going to be dangerous enough without having any of the Gunns think she was one of the Sinclairs they sought vengeance against. She lifted the Sinclair plaid that she had worn since she awoke from her fever and held it to her nose. She knew from the start it was one of Alex’s. His scent faded and been replaced by her own, but if she held it to her face long enough, it almost felt like Alex’s touch. A slow, fat teardrop fell from her eye. She quickly wiped it away before folding the plaid and laying it aside. She then pulled out a cloak that had no clear clan markings but was lined with sealskin. It reminded her of the story Alex had told her about Magnus fearing their mother was a selkie. The weather during the day was still warm, but it could be like a January day in the middle of July this far north. She would be wise to have it not only to keep her warm but to hide within because it had a large cowl that would cover her head completely. She moved over to the window and pushed aside the cover, so she could look out over the bailey. There were still some people moving about, but for the most part, people had settled into their homes for the night. Brighde knew she needed to wait at least another hour before she could risk sneaking out. Sighing, she turned around. And screamed.
She did not expect to see anyone sitting in the chair by the fire, least of whom Alex. Alex sat mostly hidden in the shadows with his legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. He had a cup of whisky resting in his hand. When he spoke, there was a note of warning.
“Going for a stroll tonight? Perhaps to Iona. A bit of a stretch of the legs, dinna ye think?”
“Alex, I didna expect to find ye in here. What are ye doing sitting in the dark?” She moved over to the fire and stooped to toss another brick of peat into the fire.
“Dinna,” Alex’s softly stated word forced shivers up and down Brighde’s back. It was far more menacing than if he yelled at her.
“After all, what is the point? Ye arenae planning to stay here long enough to need to warm the room. And we both already ken what each other looks like.” His meaning was not lost on her. She straightened to her full height and clasped her hands before her. She refused to speak, so they stared at one another in silence. The longer they stared, the more she wanted to shift back and forth on her feet, but she forced herself to be still.
Finally, Alex took another sip of whisky and let it roll around his mouth before he spoke.
“Dinna ye think it’s a bit risky to leave the protection of this clan to go traipsing across the Highlands again, except this time, with yer pursuer only a day away. In the direction ye’re traveling. Or have ye convinced some other poor sod to do yer bidding? Are ye leading him around by the cods too?” There was no imagining the bitterness in his voice. It was far too evident, and he made no attempt to hide it.
“So ye ken that too. Ye family does like to talk.” Brighde looked towards the fire as her words came out barely more than a whisper. “Ye ken there isnae anyone else.”
“Else? That implies there was ever someone, to begin with. But ye never wanted anyone, right? Ye dinna want anyone now.”
Brighde’s head whipped around.
“Ye think ye are the only one hurting right now. Ye think this is easy for me. If ye were in ma place, ye would really stay here and bring trouble upon the heads of people who were so kind to ye? Nay and ye ken it. Ye would do exactly what I must do.”
“Nae at all. I wouldnae run from someone who wants to and can protect me. Ye just dinna want the help. Ye believe ye can do better on yer own than an entire trained army of battle-seasoned warriors. Oh aye, that makes plenty of sense.”
“I did do well enough for maself when I had to. I dinna remember hearing aboot ye traveling the length of Scotland on yer own without a horse. I believe ye have always traveled with yer passel of brothers to protect ye.”
Alex shot out of the chair, his cup forgotten as it rolled across the floor.
“Ye think insulting me will deflect attention from ye. It hasnae worked yet, and ye canna use ma own tricks against me. I see through them,” he grasped her arms and almost lifted her off her feet, so they were nearly eye level. Brighde could smell the whisky on his breath, but it was faint enough for her to tell that he had not had much. No, his anger and frustration and hurt all came from a place of sobriety, and that almost scared her more than if he had been drunk.
“And how did that last flight across Scotland work for ye? Perhaps ye dinna remember. Because ye were unconscious for a moon. But I remember all too well because I was the one trying to keep ye alive. I was the one who sat with ye every bluidy day and night. More fool was I to admire the tenacity and fearlessness that I thought was what got ye here. Nay. Now I ken it was stubbornness and recklessness.”
“Ye make me out to sound so selfish when all I want is to protect ye.”
“That is selfish! Who are ye to think that ye could single-handedly protect this entire clan? Ye arenae a martyr. Ye’re a fool. There isnae a warrior in this clan who would have the ballocks to believe that his actions alone would be all that is needed to save nearly ten score people. Nay. Yer actions are more likely to see members of ma clan dead if ye insist on running away. Even if I were willing to let ye go, which I amnae, Da would never allow us to let ye wander alone through the Highlands. There arenae so many lochs and rivers for ye to use this far north. Ye would truly be on foot the entire way. Highla
nders arenae trusting either. Nay one will offer a single woman a ride on their wagon. Just the opposite, they’ll ken straight away that something isnae right and will keep their distance. Then talk aboot it to any passing ear willing to listen. I’m sure de Soules’s ear would be willing to listen. The weather will be changing soon, and there is always the chance that it could snow in the middle of summer. Then what? Ye freeze to death? Starve to death? Be eaten alive by a wildcat or wolf, or gored by an angry boar? Those sound like terrific ways to find yer path to heaven. And what happens to the men who are sent out to find ye? What happens when they must travel through foul weather to look for ye God only kens where? Or when they run into a Gunn scouting or raiding party?
“Or mayhap ye hope to wait somewhere until Mairghread and Tristan travel back to Mackay land and tag along with them. That way ye can put them and ma wee nephew in danger. Ye would rather do all of that than stay within the safe confines of this keep with a clan that has its own water source within the walls and enough food stored to carry us through a full year from now. Ye are exactly what the word selfish means.”
Brighde listened to Alex’s tirade with vacillating emotions that went from anger to remorse, to frustration, to self-pity and indignation, to anger again, and finally settled on guilt.
She placed her fists against his chest but did not have it in her to do anything with them. She felt herself deflating in the face of his biting but truthful words.
“Alex, I just canna bear the thought of ye being hurt because of me.” Tears flowed down her cheeks. “I dinna want a single Sinclair to be harmed because of me, but if aught happened to ye because of me, I couldnae go on. I just want to be far enough away that if I am found, they willna come after ye. I ken ye wouldnae back down, and I willna, I canna, stand the risk ye might be killed.”
She gripped his face in her hands and lifted her mouth to his. It was a hungry kiss, but not from lust. It was a need to find salvation and comfort in one another. It was a need to share the emotions that neither was ready to put into words. They both hungered for the connection they developed and that neither wanted to end, but both feared would. When they needed to come up for air, they smattered kisses over each other’s faces. Alex slowly lowered her to the ground and rubbed her arms. He had not paid attention to how firmly he gripped them and now worried that he hurt her.
“I’m fine, Alex.” She stroked his cheek as he leaned his forehead against hers.
“Dinna leave. Dinna run when all I will do is chase ye. Tomorrow, the next day, the day after that. Always. I ken we can keep ye safe, and I give ye ma word that we willna let harm come to ye.”
Brighde looked into the eyes of a man that she had come to depend upon in so many ways. She knew he understood her in ways that were unnerving and yet comforting all at once. She knew she did not want to leave, and she knew he would come after her. She knew exactly where she belonged. She just had to accept it. But she also knew she was not there yet.
Slowly she nodded her head.
“I’ll stay.” For now.
Alex pulled her into his embrace and kissed her with all the longing and love that he could infuse into a kiss. She returned it in equal measure.
Chapter Fourteen
The next three days were busy ones for all of the Sinclairs. The men, including Laird Sinclair, trained during most of the morning and afternoon. While the laird did not make it out to the lists every day, he was still a fierce opponent to anyone who paired with him. It was clear where his sons gained their strength and finesse. Unlike many Scottish noble families, the Sinclairs had not sent their sons, or daughter, off to foster. Before Lady Sinclair passed away, she believed her children were too young to be sent far from home to only be seen a couple of times a year. She died when her sons were just coming to an age where the laird and lady were arranging for them to foster. After she was gone, the laird refused to even consider allowing any of his children to be sent away. He had been a loving and doting father from the beginning and understood that losing their mother meant they needed him all the more. The Sinclair brothers clearly benefited from their father’s instruction, and the clan did not hurt for allies even without the connections that fostering made.
After the men bathed, they convened in the laird’s solar. They received daily reports from their scouts and border patrols. The Sinclairs, along with Tristan, discussed various scenarios and how they would handle them. Their greatest concern was for the people who lived outside of the curtain wall. There was a large and prosperous village beyond the gates. The fields were full of crops that would need harvesting soon. The danger that the village or the fields might be set on fire was what worried the men most. They could neither afford to lose their people or their crops. It was clear that if the people could make it within the walls, there would be no worries of a food or supply shortage. The larders and storage rooms were well stocked and could last them a year. But if that many people needed to seek shelter here, the crops in the field were a necessity for the following year when all that was stored was already eaten. That first day, they set about creating a plan in case of attack.
“It has been unseasonably warm this summer, and several of the fields could be harvested early. It might even be better than waiting for them to wilt from the heat and sun. We could bring the crops in early that are ready and begin storing them. There is still room in a few of the storage buildings, and the men can move last year’s stored food into the larders and buttery when Elspeth decides what she most wants.”
“Aye, Callum, we can do all of that, but that will only draw attention to our concern about a siege. The clan members will want to ken why we’re harvesting early, and if Gunn does have any scouts in the area, they will report back that we are preparing for a siege. With the men and women all working out in the field when de Soules is so close makes them an easier target. We want them all gathered together, but inside the curtain wall not out in the open of a field.”
Alex ran his hand through his hair as he thought about the various factors that were at play. His natural disposition was to be wary of most things. He had a keen sense of observation, and he thought through things, albeit faster than most, before acting. He was the family’s strongest tactician.
“It might be an inconvenience, but what if we harvest all that we can while doing it in the early morn and early evening. We need the light to see, but it would prevent it from being as obvious as having a field full of people working all day. We maynae have as much time to gather everything if an attack comes soon, but it would allow for people to stay closer to the keep during the day. Since this harvest would be earlier this year than most people have planned for, rotations would make it easier on families to spare their men. The women would also have time to prepare their family’s storage spaces. It might confuse any spies or scouts just long enough to buy us a few days of work.”
“I’m in agreement with Alex. Much of the wheat that we saw as we arrived is golden already. It can be brought in to be threshed within the walls. The cooler temperatures of early morn and early evening would make the men more productive too. What isnae ready for harvest can remain in the field. If an attack comes, then we open the water troughs and let the fields flood. It isnae ideal for the plants to get that much water that fast, but it will make them harder to burn. The vegetables in the gardens inside the wall will be safe, so there is that. Crofters will need to draw more water to keep on hand, so they can douse their roofs if we have enough warning. Let the village elders and Aileen ken that there is a threat of possible attack. This will keep them prepared for when the bells ring. They can get the women to the keep while the men tend their homes,” Mairghread reasoned.
Mairghread had always been involved in the clan’s business as much as her brothers. She sat at the table next to her husband who slung his arm loosely over the back of her chair and smiled like the cat that got into the cream. He was happy to listen to his wife’s suggestions. In their year and a half of marriage, he learned qu
ickly that Mairghread was the best partner he could hope for. She was astute, cunning, and always put the members of her clan before herself. Listening to her now made him even prouder. He was more than willing to offer his opinion if it was asked of him, but for now, he was content to let Mairghread represent clan Mackay.
“Mairghread is right. We need to make sure that there is time for families to prepare their crofts for an attack, and we canna bring everything else to a halt. I will speak to the smithy today about forging more arrow tips and have his sons come to check swords and shields that might need repair.” Magnus was the member of the laird’s family who oversaw the running of the clan’s armory, so he was best informed about what needed to be done to keep their warriors’ weapons ready.
“I will speak to Malcolm in the village and warn him that he and the other elders should be vigilant about keeping an eye open for raiders and to have the men prepare for an early harvest,” added Tavish.
“Dinna get lost on yer way back,” Magnus elbowed him. It was no secret Tavish flirted with Malcolm’s oldest daughter, Isabella, for years. Tavish knew better than to touch her, but he liked the attention.
When the meeting ended, Alex sought out Brighde and found her with the other women in the garden. He noticed they were doing more than just weeding that day. His curious look had Brighde walking over to him.
His Highland Prize (The Clan Sinclair Book 3) Page 16