It had been favours and gold well spent to set that part up. Luckily she’d found Brother Donal to be more a man of worldly concerns than godly ones and the deal to forge certain documents had been struck. His return to the abbey at Angus’s untimely death had ensured that only his confessor, and that under the holy seal, would ever hear any claims he made.
And the gold spent encouraging one or two of the elders to continue their enthusiastic support of Symon and his opinions was also done well. None of them would open their mouths or risk exposure as traitors and being named outlaw.
Symon had come to her before this meeting and told her that Rob suspected him of ordering the attack. She hoped she’d kept a concerned expression in her eyes as her brother demonstrated to her once again what kind of fool he was!
So, she’d stoked his anger at being left out of decisions and at Rob’s suspicions until Symon was ready to explode. Then she’d watched as he had—revealing more to the MacLeries than Rob knew.
Leaning back against the wall, she waited for the MacLeries to leave the keep before seeking her chambers. Though Rob had dismissed her, Symon would come and apprise her of anything said or ordered. And, in turn, she would push and prod Symon to make certain the hostilities between him and Rob continued.
Tyra made her way back to her chambers and found the small casket in which she kept trinkets and keepsakes hidden. The letter lay on top and she opened the parchment and read it once more. Gavin swore his undying love for her and urged her to remain in her faith of him.
Certainly she knew of his proclivity to sleep with the servants—her spy there revealed that to her—but that did not lessen their love. It was only until she took her place as his wife and then she would see to that much as she had been seeing to things here.
Chapter Twenty
Rob strode into the large chamber that he used as a solar and found them waiting for him. Along with the elders, Symon and Dougal sat stone-faced and silent. Brother Finlay entered just behind him, carrying his usual leather satchel with documents, quills, ink and a sharp knife with which to scrape off old used parchments for reuse. A guard closed the door and Rob looked at each man there.
‘Symon mentioned an agreement with the MacKenzies. I know of no such thing,’ he began. ‘How is that?’ Then he crossed his arms and waited for someone to answer his question.
He knew he was being manoeuvred and manipulated, but he did not think Symon intelligent enough to do that. His outburst was a perfect example of how he acted—too fast, too loud and too much. Subtlety was lost on him. Looking around at the others, he tried to decide who could be the one.
‘My lord,’ Brother Finlay began, ‘I found this in your father’s papers. Since you were … ahem … involved in some matter, I showed it to Lord Symon.’ Involved in the carnal knowledge of a certain lady was what Brother Finlay did not say, but they understood what had caught Rob’s attention lately.
If he trusted Symon as a chief should trust his tanist, Rob might have felt differently about that. But Symon’s interference and attempts to push him in only one direction broke what trust they might have had at one time.
Rob took the parchment and walked away from the table, reading it. Although it was not a formal treaty, this did make a preliminary proposal and an agreement to proceed with one. It was written by his father’s clerk and signed by the laird himself and the marks matched the others of his father’s that he’d seen. ‘Why was this not among my father’s other documents? Among the ones I have in my possession.’
‘I know not, my lord,’ the cleric answered with a shrug. ‘I found it in one of the trunks that Brother Donal left when he returned to the abbey. I assumed you knew of it, but with all this talk about treaties and war with the MacLeries, I thought it best to bring it to your attention.’
‘And when did you bring this to the tanist?’ he asked. Symon began to speak, but Rob waved him off.
‘Only yesterday, my lord.’ Brother Finlay, a large man, wiped at his sweating brow with the sleeve of his brown robe. ‘As I said, all this talk …’
‘Does anyone in this room have knowledge of a formal treaty with the MacKenzies?’ he asked quietly and then he waited to give someone, anyone, a chance to answer. When none did, he continued. ‘Has anyone been in contact with the MacKenzie laird or others since my father died?’
‘Rob, you know I have spoken to my father’s cousins there,’ Symon replied. ‘My support of that is not unknown.’
He laughed then at Symon’s understated and unexpected admission. ‘I think we all know of your support to break from the MacLeries.’ He stopped smiling and waited. ‘Any of you have anything to add?’ When they did not, when no one else spoke, Rob leaned on the table with his knuckles and shared his knowledge of Connor’s methods with them.
‘If we are to get out of this situation that Symon has put us in and if we are to get out well enough to continue negotiating with the MacKenzies as you all seem wont to do, I need to know if there will be any other surprises or disclosures. I asked for gold for Lady MacGregor’s return and will negotiate her release under those conditions.’
Symon began to argue, but Rob would not hear it. ‘You kidnapped her and brought her here, Symon. Though I did not give the orders for that action, as laird and chief, you act on my behalf. I am responsible for what you’ve done.’ Rob stood up and glared at his cousin. ‘It is the way of it, Symon! Now, I ask one last time—have promises of any kind been made to the MacKenzie laird?’
Silence filled the chamber for several moments.
‘Very well,’ Rob said. ‘I will meet with the MacLerie peacemaker and see if he can work out a peace between us.’
Rob stood near the door, signalling that this meeting was done and watched as each one left. He asked Dougal to remain and then he grabbed Symon’s arm.
‘Cousin. Did you have something else to say?’ Something had flashed in Symon’s eyes at his last question, but his cousin had said nothing. He just pulled from his grasp and left.
‘That went well, did it not?’ Dougal asked with a smirk on his face.
‘Symon or the whole discussion?’ Rob asked. Dougal walked over to a table in the corner and poured two cups of ale. After he handed one to Rob, he backed up a pace and asked. ‘So, will you really return the lady to her family?’
‘Aye.’ Rob drank most of the ale in one swallow. When Dougal said nothing more, he turned and faced him. ‘I did not bring her here, Dougal.’
‘I did not think you had,’ he replied. Watching him over the rim of the cup, he said, ‘But it’s clear to anyone with eyes that you are not unhappy she is here and sharing your bed.’
Though Rob wanted to pummel him for bringing up such a thing, he decided not to protest too much. ‘She is, as it turns out, a lonely widow.’
‘You insult the lady’s honour, Rob,’ Dougal said in an angry voice. ‘And you seem to forget that we have been friends for many years. I saw you when you returned from Lairig Dubh.’ Dougal drank again without taking his gaze off Rob. ‘And I spent three days with you when your father told you of her marriage. You are a talkative drunk, in case you did not know it.’
He’d been a ranting lunatic in those days. Dougal probably did remember more of it than he did. His friend had taken him somewhere to suffer through it where no one else could be privy to his pain. Or to any of the truth that caused it.
‘It cannot be, Dougal. Connor objected then and he’ll object now—especially with the way this began. There is no way that does not threaten this clan.’
‘If you say so.’ Dougal finished his ale and put the cup down. ‘You still suspect Symon’s motives.’
‘Something does not fit, Dougal. He wanted, he wants, to be chief. He wants this clan to be taken seriously and be allies with the best. Some of his actions just do not make any sense.’ Rob thought on the day they’d gone riding across the farmlands and villages. ‘His suggestions were well thought out and are good ones. They would improve the way we do m
any things with our crops. His defensive strategies are the same. You said his ideas were intelligent when you travelled with him the other day.’
‘Yet he acts out of turn.’
‘Aye. As though like an angry dog that has been poked in the eye by someone with a large stick.’ Rob shook his head. ‘I put two men on him. Mayhap they will see or hear something to explain it.’
‘Laird?’ The guard spoke from the doorway. ‘The lady asks for permission to visit with her maid.’
‘Is it a good idea, Rob? To have her roaming through the keep when the MacLeries are at our gates?’
‘She is less trouble when she is kept busy, Dougal. Since there is only one way into that chamber, it is easily guarded.’ Rob nodded at the guard. ‘She may go there now and stay until I say so.’
The guard went off to relay the order.
‘And when her mother asks to see her again?’ Dougal asked.
Rob smiled. Lady MacLerie was not difficult to understand. She was here for her daughter and wanted to be with her as much as possible. Would the lady talk her daughter out of his bed if he allowed them to keep company together? Rob shrugged against the inevitable and his friend laughed at him as he left to see to another matter.
Rob called a servant in to ready this chamber for the MacLeries’ arrival. It was large and private, a good place to hold their talks. Though there would be food and drink provided, it would not be a shared meal, so Rob went off to the kitchens to eat something more substantial before the negotiations began.
And, if he happened to catch a glimpse of Lilidh as she passed through on her way to Isla, well, that was good too. There would be so few days left to them now and he would take advantage of every hour of them.
Symon left Rob and went to see his sister. So many things did not make sense now. Rob did not reject his ideas as Tyra said he would—not about defence or even about changes to some of the farms. So, as he approached her chamber, he decided that he was not so opposed to some of the things Rob wanted to do.
And he would tell Tyra exactly that.
Walking through the hall and up to the tower that held their chambers, Symon realised that Tyra was beginning to overstep her place. He’d heard about her striking Lilidh MacLerie and leaving a mark. If she’d stayed away from Rob’s chambers as he’d ordered, that would not have happened.
He knocked and entered without waiting. She should be waiting on him since he’d told her he would come directly here after meeting with Rob and the elders. Instead of her maids attending her, a man he did not know stood there speaking to her.
‘Who are you?’ he asked, walking towards them. He’d not seen the man before. ‘What business do you have here?’
‘Symon, this is Connell from the stables. My horse has thrown a shoe and injured her leg. Connell was bringing me news of what needs to be done.’ Tyra ushered the man out as Symon watched. Once the door was closed, he berated her.
‘Where are your maids? He should not be here in your chambers without a chaperon of some kind. Servant or not.’
‘Aye, you are right, Symon,’ Tyra said, nodding her head. ‘The maids left but a moment before you arrived. I am surprised you did not pass them in the corridor.’ She filled a cup and offered it to him. ‘Sit and tell me what happened?’ When he sat in one of the chairs, she knelt down before him and sat on her heels, looking up at him.
‘He was angry about me speaking in front of the MacLeries,’ he began.
‘Of course he was! You took the strongest position and defended the clan’s honour as he should have done.’ She patted his leg and smiled at him. Sometimes he forgot that she had been his biggest supporter after their mother died.
By the time he left her chambers, Symon’s anger was stoked again over the demeaning way he was being treated when he should be laird and chief. And if someone needed to make that clear, not only to Rob and his cronies, but also to the high-and-mighty MacLeries, well then, who better than him to do it?
Lilidh left Rob’s chambers, following Ranald down the stairs. His bulk filled the stone stairway and, at least, she knew if she stumbled, he would block her fall. Her leg seemed stronger over the last day or so and the time it took to reach the bottom was much less than the last time. She paused once there and looked around, hoping and dreading that she would catch a glimpse of her cousins Duncan and Rurik.
They walked through the empty hall and down the corridor to the chamber where Isla stayed. Opening the door for her, Ranald stepped aside so she could enter and then closed the door behind her. Isla slept—once more or still she knew not—and Lilidh sat down at her side. Only a short time had passed when the door opened next. Expecting Siusan with some chore or to see to Isla, her mother entered.
‘Rob let you back in? I am surprised!’ she said, rising to greet her mother.
‘As am I,’ her mother replied, laughing. Then she turned her attentions to the woman on the bed. ‘Does she sleep constantly?’
‘No, Mother. She wakes and sleeps throughout the day.’
‘A better sign than sleeping all the time, I think.’ Her mother turned and sat on the other stool facing the bed and Lilidh. ‘So, now that we have some privacy, can you tell me what happened?’
‘Did Duncan send you on this mission, then? You must bring back information he can use?’ she asked, only half in jest.
‘I will tell him what you say I can, but nothing you do not wish to share.’
Why did she feel like crying now? She had never cried when attacked or brought here. Only the news of her maid Isla’s death and the others killed when she was taken brought her to tears. And when she thought she’d lost Rob. Even as a girl, she did not surrender to tears often. But now? One look at her mother’s soft expression of concern and she was lost.
One moment she was thinking about how strong she needed to be and the next one found her wrapped in her mother’s comforting embrace, crying out a list of emotions she could not name.
‘Easy now, sweetling,’ her mother whispered, rocking her to and fro as she held her tightly. ‘Worry not, let it out,’ she said. And Lilidh did.
It was a short while before she could stop the tears. Then, a few more minutes before she could speak.
‘Just tell me the daft man did not force you,’ her mother said, under her breath with more than a hint of hostility in her voice. Her mother did not suffer fools well or easy.
‘Oh, no,’ Lilidh said, sitting up and wiping her face. ‘Never.’
Her mother gave her the strangest look then, as though suddenly realising something or recognising something she’d not seen or known before. ‘You still love him?’
‘Iain?’ she replied, misunderstanding apur-pose. ‘I did care for him.’ She looked away then, not daring to meet her mother’s astute gaze.
‘He broke your heart and yet you still carry soft feelings for him.’ Her mother knew.
‘I did not know it until now.’
‘Was it wise to go to his bed? I know you are a widow, Lilidh, and some might look the other way at a widow seeking some happiness, but this will only complicate matters.’
‘I needed to know, Mother,’ she admitted in a whisper. ‘That must sound scandalous, but ’tis the truth.’
‘And he has not offered for you?’ Her mother watched her intently now.
‘Father would never accept him. You know that. Not after what he did before and now this.’
‘Your father can be quite hard-headed,’ she began. Lilidh laughed over her choice of words.
‘Rob said the same thing about himself. I am content that I had this chance to see how it could be between us.’
‘Content?’ her mother asked, smoothing her hair from her face. ‘Content?’
Thinking about their time together these last several nights, Lilidh knew she was content with her decision. ‘Yes, Mother. Content. Rob is trying to do his best for his clan in this, so there can be nothing more for us than what we have shared.’
‘He asked for gold,
you know. He demanded gold for your return.’
She shrugged. ‘They are not a wealthy clan. We are. It would seem a fair exchange. An honourable way out for both sides, especially since this was not Rob’s idea.’ As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she’d not revealed that bit. It would reveal how Rob’s position here was precarious and give her cousin more power in the stalemate. If her mother realised the significance of it, she did not show it.
Her mother stood then and paced around the room a few times. Never a good sign, Lilidh waited as her mother gathered the nerve to say what she had to say.
‘I would think you would want him skinned alive for what he did to you, Lilidh. Why are you not screaming for his head? Demanding his death? Asking that your father destroy this keep and him?’
Lilidh pondered her mother’s words. For a long time after Rob had disavowed her, she had thought of nothing but one or two hundred different ways in which he could die—and all of them terrible. But now? After he’d protected her from harm, shared his own fears with her, and after they’d made enough memories to last the rest of her life without him, she understood the duty they each had to carry out.
‘Because I have learned about duty, Mother. As has Rob.’ Lilidh stood then and faced her mother. ‘Whatever happened between us those years ago, it is over between us. Why bring death and destruction to people who had nothing to do with anything in the past?’
A flicker of something passed over her mother’s face just then. Something that resembled guilt. Which reminded Lilidh of a question of her own. ‘Why did you write to Rob when I was about to marry Iain?’
‘He told you? I would have thought he would keep it a secret since he had not the decency to respond.’
‘Mother, he never received your letter. His father did and kept it from him,’ she explained. ‘But why did you send it? Father made his feelings about Rob and the Mathesons quite clear.’
Her mother shook her head and shrugged. ‘‘Twas a mistaken notion, that is all.’
She would have asked more about that, but they were interrupted when Siusan arrived. They spent most of the afternoon there, speaking to Isla when she would rouse, helping her wash and eat, and chatting quietly when she slept. Siusan and her mother renewed their acquaintance, for apparently Siusan’s cousin yet lived in Lairig Dubh and owed some debt to her mother that neither woman would identify, but both accepted.
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