by Willa Blair
Another of the lads snorted and spat at Euan.
He must have forgotten the Munro was in the room. Muireall and Georgie’s father came from behind his worktable and grabbed the lad by the ear.
“All of ye will spend the next year mucking out the stables and keeping the bailey clean.” He shook the lad by the ear, then let go and moved to the next. “If I see one steaming pile of shit in the yard, ye will wear it for the next week.” Then he moved to the leader of the trio. “And if any of ye touch another wean—lad or lass or beast—I’ll throw ye in the dungeon for a month, covered in horse shit, and let the rats show ye what it feels like to be tormented.” Then he stepped back and clenched his fists. “As tempted as I am to give ye a taste of yer own medicine, I willna stoop to yer level. But if I see a scratch, a bruise, an unhappy expression, on any bairn in this clan—ever again—I will blame ye, and ye will suffer the consequences. Now get out. Ye have work to do.”
The three filed past Euan, but the leader couldn’t resist one last smirk. Euan’s hand whipped out and caught him around the neck, firmly but more gently than he deserved. “Dinna mistake yer laird, lad. And dinna mistake me. Whatever ye get from him, I’ll give ye’ll twice over. And unlike him, I have no compunction against beating ye senseless. So mind yerself. Oh, and fair warning. Sometimes those wee lads grow into the largest and strongest of men.” Then he moved his hand to the middle of the lad’s back and shoved him toward his friends.
In his haste to get away, the lad tripped over his own feet and sprawled full-length on the floor.
“’Tis just a taste,” Euan added as the lad picked himself up and glanced around, eyes wide, then hastened out of the solar.
“’Tis the first time I’ve seen that ruffian look scared,” the Munro announced with a satisfied smirk. “Thank ye for bringing them here and not just giving them what they gave Georgie.” He returned to his seat and collapsed into it with a sigh.
“Of course. ’Twas no’ my place to punish them. ’Twas their laird’s, though I was no’ above scaring them a bit.”
“Muireall has tried to tell me what was going on—many times, but I thought she exaggerated. Lasses and their soft feelings, ye ken. I shouldha listened. If a warrior such as ye thought the lads went too far, then I have to believe it.”
“Ye can believe it. And though I was tempted, I didna hurt any of them. Despite my threats, I’ll leave any future punishment up to ye. I willna be here to see to it.”
“Oh, they’ll be punished. They’re too proud by far—two are sons of my tacksman. The mouthy one is the blacksmith’s lad. Cleaning up after the horses is just what they need. Georgie needs toughening, but in training. No’ by the likes of those three.”
Euan nodded. “But once I leave, the bullies will still find ways to torment him. The trouble isna over, it has just gone underground even deeper.”
The Munro nodded as if coming to a decision, then spoke. “Would ye consider taking the boy under yer wing by fostering him at Brodie? Along with the Brodies who were here earlier and spoke so highly of ye, my daughter tells me ye are a man of morals, courage, and skill. Ye’d make a fine example for the boy to follow.” He gestured with one open hand. “Get him away from those three and any more like them. At Brodie, he can grow and train as a lad ought. And his presence will have the added benefit of strengthening the ties between our clans.”
Euan didn’t want to refuse. The opportunity was good on several levels. But he still had a concern. “And if Ross still wishes to take revenge for Donas?”
“Then every clan around the firth will be drawn into the fight. He’ll be no safer here than at Brodie. Less, if those lads think they can still get away with bullying him.”
Euan nodded. “I see yer point.” And he knew all too well how easily that could happen.
The Munro hesitated, then added “I see another motive as well. It will also make my daughter more inclined to join ye at Brodie, aye? With her charge also there?”
Euan grinned. “Ye are a wise man, indeed.”
“Then think on it. But ye must decide before ye must leave.”
Chapter 20
Muireall entered her father’s solar, expecting to find him alone. The lad he’d sent as messenger told her he’d summoned her for a private meeting. Yet there stood Euan and Georgie. Euan looked pensive, but Georgie looked positively radiant—except for the new bruises decorating his face.
“What happened?” she demanded, moving to her younger brother and studying his features. He was so dear to her it hurt her, too, when the bigger lads beat him. If she was bigger and stronger, she’d put a stop to it—make sure those lads found out how it felt to be smaller and weaker and outnumbered. So far her father had refused to believe her, saying young boys fought and got banged up all the time. He didn’t see it as anything unusual or worrisome. Every time it happened, she wanted to scream, but she feared if she gave full vent to her frustration, her father would send Georgie away rather than dealing with the troublemakers. She couldn’t bear to lose him.
Georgie opened his mouth to answer, but Euan spoke first. “I came upon three lads beating him, and brought the proof to yer laird.”
“Three?” She turned, aghast, to her father, who shrugged.
“They willna be a problem any longer.”
That was supposed to be an apology? Muireall’s eyes narrowed. “After all the times I’ve told ye, only now ye believe, and only because Euan tells ye?”
“And because he dragged the three who were doing it into my presence. Dinna fash. They’re getting well acquainted with horse…droppings…as we speak.”
Muireall fought to control the mounting pyre of outrage threatening to burst from her. She’d fought for so long to protect her brother, and had been met with her father’s indifference and platitudes. Now that he’d seen the proof Euan offered, that was the best punishment he could think of? “Shoveling out stalls is supposed to teach them a lesson?” She couldn’t believe her ears. She thought he finally understood the seriousness of the threat to his youngest son. “Those lads deserved time in stocks…or the lash.” She choked on the last word.
Euan cut a sharp glance to her, then to her father.
She shook her head. She didn’t want hers mentioned in front of Georgie. She was no longer in danger. Georgie was.
“Well, as to that, I have agreed to consider a different course of action.” Her father fidgeted for a moment, then caught her gaze and spoke. “I’m thinking of fostering Georgie at Brodie. If the Brodie agrees, he’ll be trained and live there for seven years.”
Muireall’s knees went weak.
Euan moved quickly to put a chair behind her, then took her elbow and lowered her into it.
She shook off his hand. “Nay…” Suddenly she couldn’t get her breath. Something was squeezing her chest and a rock had lodged in her throat.
“’Tis for the best, daughter, and well ye ken it. But dinna fash. If he doesna thrive there, the Brodie will send the lad home. And ye may visit him, of course.”
She turned, blinking back tears, to Georgie, who came and hugged her. The smile he’d worn when she entered had been replaced by an expression too solemn for one so young. “I wish to go, Muireall,” he told her. “Euan will train me to fight. And he says someday, I may be as big as he is. He’s going to help me grow like he did.”
Like he did? What did that mean? Euan’s gaze was on the floor, but his cheeks and nose were unusually pink. “What does he mean, Euan?”
He lifted his gaze to her and shrugged. “I was once like Georgie, the smallest lad the others picked on. I surprised the hell out of them when I returned from fostering. Bigger and stronger than the lot. I ken what Georgie has been through. I want to help him.”
Muireall wiped her eyes. Was there no end to the good and noble things Euan was willing to do for her and for her clan? Yet, she could not bear to lose Georgie this way. She’d just gotten back to him, and he’d been so overjoyed she was home…but her feeling
s didn’t matter. Sending him with Euan was the best thing they could do for him. She gave him a tremulous smile, then turned her gaze to her father and nodded.
“Well then, now that’s settled, lad, ye should go make sure ye are packed and ready. Go on with ye, now.”
“Ye are leaving today?” she asked Euan.
Georgie gave Muireall another hug, then clasped hands with Euan. When he did the same with his father, Muriel was certain her heart would break. Her young lad would go away and come back nearly grown. Nay, she didn’t know how she would bear it, but she must find a way.
“Aye, ’tis time.” His gaze bored into her.
She knew he was asking, without words, whether she was ready to go with him. She wasn’t! How could he expect her to leave home so quickly? Her world and everything real to her had been stolen by Ross raiders. By Donas Ross’s punishment marking her back. She hadn’t yet found the lass she used to be, the responsible one, the caretaker, the laird’s eldest. She was home, but she didn’t yet recognize herself in it. She’d lost who she was, even to the man now staring at her, waiting for her to say something, to nod. She wanted to, but she couldn’t.
“Is that all we need to discuss?”
Muireall lifted her gaze to her father’s in surprise, but he wasn’t looking at her. His question had been directed at Euan.
Euan pursed his lips then shook his head, all while keeping his gaze fixed on her. “Aye, that’s all…for now.”
Her father expected Euan would also ask for her hand. Yet he’d just failed to do so. She wanted to clamp a hand over her mouth to hold back a cry of despair, but instead she held herself stiff and silent, her gaze on the hearth, rather than on the two men. What about their promises at the ancient stone? Had he forsworn them so easily? She needed time at home, but not forever. She needed Euan, too.
Her father waited a beat, then nodded. “Thank ye for yer care this day of my son. Godspeed back to Brodie.”
Muireall should be going back with him, too, but she’d failed to nod, to tell him she was ready, so he didn’t offer for her. After all that had passed between them, she didn’t know why. She’d thought he would agree to be betrothed. She thought she’d have some time. Instead, she had no choice but to watch him take Georgie away. She knew it was for Georgie’s own good, but losing both of them at once slew her.
She forced herself to her feet and followed Euan out of the laird’s solar and across the great hall. When he stepped outside, she came out behind him. “Are ye going to leave without Georgie?” She glanced around, expecting to see him.
“Nay. I told him earlier to meet me here. What do ye really want to ask me?”
He was too perceptive by far. Muireall looked around her, taking in the keep, the people, the sights she thought she might never see again. She took a breath and turned to Euan. “Ye have brought me home. ’Twas the last obligation ye felt ye had to discharge after the shipwreck.”
Euan paled, then colored, but she didn’t let his reaction to her reminder about the Tangie and what followed stop her. “But ’tis no’ the last promise ye made to me. How can ye just leave?” She would not beg him to stay. She was the daughter of a laird. She would not.
“I must, as well ye ken.”
“Why?”
His gaze shifted to the sky above the keep’s walls and he studied for several endless moments. Muireall held her breath, not sure what she wanted to hear him say. Finally, he dropped his gaze to her face and gave her a lopsided smile that nearly broke her heart.
“I’ve done what I promised, lass, and carried ye home, where ye need to be. ’Tis time for me to go. I must do what ye said ye wished for, what I promised, and leave ye here…unless ye have changed yer mind?”
Muireall swallowed and wrapped her arms around her middle. She wanted them around Euan, but she could not do that, not here. Not now. “So suddenly? We’ve barely arrived. Why must ye return to Brodie so soon? I never dreamed ye would take my brother with ye.” Muireall did her best to put her heart in her eyes, if not in her words. She’d lost Ella. She wasn’t ready to lose Georgie. She’d just gotten back to him. Or for Euan to leave. He’d been such a big part of her life since that fateful day on the beach. How would she go on without him?
“Ye dinna need me.” He ran the back of a curled finger down her cheek.
“I do,” she protested. Normally, his touch would have heated her skin, but she'd gone too cold to give rise to those kinds of feelings.
“Ye have yer clan, yer friends, yer family…yer home. Wee Georgie will be safe and well cared for. That is everything ye said ye wanted. I’m happy for ye, lass. I am.”
He didn’t look happy. He looked like he was putting a brave face over the heartache he really felt. Or was she just hoping for that? “I do need ye. More than ye ken.” Everyone she cared about was deserting her, taken away or leaving by their own will, despite how she’d fought to get back to them.
“Ye are just sad to see me go. Once my sail is out of sight, ye will forget all about me.”
“Nay, never. If only ye could give me some time…”
“My clan needs me, too. Iain does. I canna stay and turn my back on them…”
“Yet ’tis my place to turn my back on mine,” Muireall answered, tensing with irritation at his statement. How could she get angry with him, now of all times? But why was a woman always the one to leave her home and family? A man could do the same, if he wished, couldn’t he?
But nay, Georgie must go, and Euan must take him. To keep the lad safe.
She pressed her lips together and gazed aside at the keep around them. The water was too far away to see. She needed to be home! After a month living in fear and pain at Ross and after more time at Brodie, she needed to feel normal, to be in a place she knew like her own skin, seeing people she’d grown up with, family she loved. Yet weren’t Georgie and Euan family to her, too? It wasn’t fair. She felt as trapped as she’d been in that cove. Only this time, Euan refused to rescue her.
It was her fault he hadn’t offered for her when her father gave him the chance.
Georgie came out then, a bundle in his arms—all his worldly possessions.
She ruffled his hair, then lifted her gaze to Euan’s face. He was frowning at her. “Go, then, if ye must,” she told him, being as brave as she could for Georgie’s sake. “It is as ye say. I will be fine. All that I longed for is here. Save this wee man.” Georgie ducked out from under her fingers.
Euan’s eyes widened and his head tipped back as if she’d struck him. “All?” He clamped his lips shut as if he hadn’t meant for the word to slip out, and his expression hardened. “Send for me if ye ever change yer mind, Muireall. Until then, I wish ye well.”
She couldn’t respond. Her throat closed up, choking off anything she might have said to make him go back to her father to claim her hand, then take her with him as his wife. She could only look at him, trying to memorize every dear feature, every line on his sun-bronzed skin, every lock of his russet hair. His eyes, now the green of impure glass. His lips. She sucked in a breath. “Kiss me goodbye,” she managed to whisper.
Euan studied her for a moment, as if he, too, was trying to commit her face to memory. “I dinna think so,” he said.
Agony filled her chest as her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. He would deny her even that last bit of comfort.
“’Twould hurt too much,” he said softly, then turned away and collected Georgie, who’d wandered off while they talked. In moments, Euan, with Georgie at his side, walked through the gate. Out of her life.
The lad turned back and waved. Euan did not.
Muireall shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, but found no warmth. She might never be warm again. At least she would be spared watching Euan’s sail disappear over the horizon. Still, she stood, stiff as the high timber walls around her, staring, long after they disappeared, tears she’d fought to deny in Euan’s presence finally running freely down her cheeks.
Euan had
been gone only hours, but Muireall missed him more than she ever dreamed possible. Now that she knew her clan and her younger brother were safe, she realized the home she’d yearned so strongly to return to while a captive of the Ross clan and while a guest at Brodie had lost its appeal. She’d romanticized the day-to-day and now the reality didn’t…couldn’t…match her homesick longings. Nor could she find herself here. The lass she’d been was gone forever. She’d never be whole away from Euan. He held her heart.
Euan was gone, and with him, all her illusions.
Riding seemed to be her only solace, though it did not give her the solitude she craved. Her father insisted two Munro warriors follow as her escort. She spent the time attempting to practice what Annie had taught her, but her unhappy thoughts kept her from focusing as she should. Finally, she shrugged and wrapped her arms around her middle, accidentally jerking the reins. Her mount reacted with an annoyed whinny and a twitch of its ears. Embarrassed, Muireall patted its neck and glanced at the men following her. Her escort kept their distance. She hoped they hadn’t noticed.
She’d expected a homecoming of a different sort, a happier sort. Yet, as it was, some of the clan eyed her with suspicion. They did not believe she’d remained untouched.
She belonged with Euan. Why oh why hadn’t she been satisfied when the men Iain had sent returned to tell her all was well, and that her clan now knew she was safe and cared for. But no, she had to see for herself. Once she’d seen the reality of Donas Ross’s lies, she should have realized there was nothing for her here. She should have begged Euan to stay, or to take her back with him. But she’d been unable to think and barely able to speak. It had happened too fast, too suddenly.
She knew her father would broach with Iain the subject of a marriage alliance, since he had handed his youngest son over to Euan for safe-keeping and training. Yet she couldn’t ask. Euan had the chance while speaking to her father and had not offered for her. And even though Euan had told her to send for him if she changed her mind, begging for him to return so quickly would be disgraceful.