The adjoining door opened and Ruairi knocked briefly before he entered. “I figured ye were in here.”
“Cowering.”
“Now there isnae a need for that. My son cares for ye. I think he mumbled some words about a warrior being rewarded for their bravery.” He sat on the bed beside her. “He’ll miss ye.”
“And I’ll miss him. You are truly blessed with Torquil.”
“I’m reminded of that every day. To be honest, I havenae seen him that happy for a long time.”
She tapped him on the arm. “Oh, Ruairi. I can’t say I’m responsible for that, but I thank you just the same.”
He raised his hand and softly brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Ye brought the light back into his eyes.” For a long moment, he looked back at her. “And mine as well, lass.”
Twelve
Time was running out and he didn’t like it at all. He’d do anything to stop it. Ruairi walked to the courtyard to see if Fagan had returned from his nightly watch, but his actions were more an attempt to dodge thinking about Ravenna’s departure. He tried not to dwell on how he would spend his last eve with her, but he could no longer avoid the inevitable. By this time tomorrow, Ravenna would be gone, on her way back to England.
He needed to make certain Torquil recovered quickly from her absence. He’d already decided to spend more time with his son, hoping to somewhat fill the hole he knew he couldn’t possibly fill. Torquil had grown close to his governess, and without her presence… Not that Ruairi would handle the situation any better than Torquil, but one thing was certain: Ravenna would be missed.
Fagan approached with a worn look on his face. “Nae a thing.” He scratched his arm. “Only the damn midges again. I think Angus had a better time than me. He fed his belly on some animal and gnawed on that thing all night long. He wasnae verra good company.”
“Have something to eat and then seek your bed. I’ll ride out to the border and make sure everything is as it should be.”
“Ye’re certain ye donna want me to ride along?”
“Nay, ye’ve been up all night. Get some rest.” He slapped his friend on the shoulder and then made his way toward the stables. He was looking forward to a long ride to clear his head.
Ruairi waved off the stable hand and saddled his mount, reveling in the smell of leather and hay. As he led his horse out of the stall, he patted the magnificent animal on the neck. The sun was shining and a cool breeze blew through the bailey. He swung his leg up over his mount and galloped hard out the gates.
Hooves pounded the ground beneath him, wind whipped through his hair, and he encouraged his mount to accelerate even further. He had high hopes that he could somehow outrun his demons. Reaching the border of his lands faster than he would’ve liked, Ruairi slowed his mount. He led his horse along the edge of the brush and let out a whistle.
“My laird,” said Calum, stepping out from the trees.
“What have ye found?”
“Angus paid us a wee visit last eve, but everything else has been quiet. I’m afraid we havenae seen or heard anything, and naught has moved.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Stay at your post. Additional men will be sent to relieve ye soon.”
Calum slightly bowed his head. “Aye, my laird.”
Unfortunately, Ruairi knew there was nothing further he could do until something else happened. He briefly said a silent prayer that Ravenna’s last night would be marked with no noteworthy incidents. He turned his mount for home and decided to go to the cliffs. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew he wasn’t ready to return to the castle. When he reached the grassy knoll, he stopped and dismounted. He walked up the small grade to the edge of the cliff and let out a heavy sigh.
The rolling billows of the sea were a grand sight as the waves crashed onto the rocks below. He knew he needed to travel home—but not right now. He needed to savor this quiet moment alone. He kept telling himself that the situation with Ravenna was easier to accept because they were from two different worlds. At least they were completely honest with each other and knew where the other stood. He was aware of that, but that didn’t explain why he was so troubled about it.
Ruairi unsheathed his sword and sat at the cliff, dangling his feet off the edge. How odd that he found comfort in the same place where his wife had died. Granted, Anna was not the most pleasant of women, but he wouldn’t have wished her fate on anyone. He would rather die by his own sword than by meeting his maker on the rocks below.
***
Ravenna promptly stood from the bed and bundled her daggers. She needed to keep busy. There was no sense thinking about what could never be. God, Ruairi didn’t know who she really was, not even her true name. All the man knew about her was her Christian name and that she had three sisters. If she’d had a flicker of hope that he would one day find her again, she quickly stayed the thought. Before long, she’d be given another assignment and be back to her ordinary life. But she didn’t want to think about that right now or how she’d feel returning to her lonely bed in the manor house.
There was a knock at her door and she opened it to find Torquil. He cast a wry grin and had his hands behind his back. He was definitely up to something.
“Close eyes,” he said.
“All right, my eyes are closed.”
“Ye open now.”
She opened her eyes to find red and yellow roses from the garden. “Oh, Torquil, the flowers are beautiful. Thank you.” The boy smiled from ear to ear and handed her the blooms.
“I pick them for ye remember me.”
“I don’t need flowers to remember you. I’ll always remember you. Would you like to take a walk with me in the garden?”
“Aye.”
Ravenna placed the flowers in some water and then walked down the hall with Torquil. As they descended the stairs to the great hall, Fagan stood on the last step. His exhausted eyes smiled at her.
“Torquil, have ye seen Angus?”
The boy shook his head. “Nay.”
“Is there something wrong?” asked Ravenna.
“I hadnae seen him from this morn. I’m seeking my bed for a few hours of sleep.”
“I take it you’ve had no luck, then.”
“Nay.”
Torquil grabbed her hand and started to pull her away. “Will I see you later?”
“Aye,” Fagan responded.
As he turned and walked up the steps, she asked, “Have you seen Ruairi?”
“He went to check on the men at the border. He should be back soon,” he said over his shoulder.
“Sleep well.” When Torquil tugged on her hand again, she pivoted on her heel. “All right, I’m coming. I’m coming.”
Ravenna walked the garden path and wanted to savor every moment. She rested her hands on the cool stone wall and closed her eyes, lifting her face to the sun. There was great serenity to be had in the Highlands. If she hadn’t experienced it herself, she would never have believed it. If anyone asked, she’d have a difficult time describing the feeling that washed over her. The land, the sea, everything seemed to call to her. And God help her, for a brief moment she wanted to answer.
She glanced over at Torquil, who stood perfectly still. The boy had his back to her and was studying something on the ground.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a raised voice.
He turned and gestured her over, pointing to the ground. “Look.”
She walked toward him and stopped when she saw some poor mutilated animal lying on the path. She wrinkled her nose. “What is that? Or perhaps I should ask what it was.”
He shrugged.
As Torquil bent over to touch the creature, Ravenna hastily pulled him back by the tunic. “Don’t touch it!”
His eyes widened. “Why? ’Tis only animal.”
“Why don’t we go to the stable and have someone remove the poor thing? We shouldn’t be touching it.” She wrapped her arm around Torquil’s shoulders and urged him away.
“Ye afrai
d?” asked Torquil with a wry grin. The boy was suddenly the mirror image of his father.
“No,” she said defensively. “I just don’t think the animal was left there for us to poke at it.”
***
Ruairi rode through the gates and thought he’d take Ravenna to the beach again since she enjoyed it so much the first time. He realized he didn’t need to look too far because she stood in the bailey with her arms folded across her chest. She looked uneasy, and he certainly hoped he was not the cause of her discomfiture. He handed his horse to the stable hand and approached her.
“What are ye doing standing in the middle of the bailey?”
Her expression was bleak. “I’m waiting for Torquil to return. We had a man from the stable gather up the remains of a dead animal on the garden path. Do you think Angus left it there?”
Ruairi rubbed his hand over his brow. “’Tis possible. Fagan told me Angus chewed on something all eve. I guess that was it.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “I have to tell you what Torquil did. He knocked on my door this morning and handed me roses. He picked them himself. You’re raising him to be a fine young man, Ruairi. He’s such a thoughtful boy.”
“Aye.”
Ruairi silently cursed. Roses? He couldn’t believe he’d been outshone by his only son. He discreetly tapped the bundle of heather stems that were gathered at his waist under his tunic. He could not give them to her now. Damn. Now he’d have to think of a gift that was better than roses. He suddenly had an idea.
“I thought mayhap I would take ye to the beach. I could have the cook prepare us a basket.”
“What about Torquil? I know he really wanted to spend some time with me before…” She looked down at the ground.
“If ye donna mind, he can come too. But remember this, I will have ye all to myself this eve.” When his eyes darkened and her face reddened, he knew he made his point perfectly clear.
Ruairi walked to the kitchens to have the cook arrange a basket and then made his way to his chamber. He approached the dark wooden trunk in the corner of the room and lifted the lid. Kilts and tunics lined the top. He reached in and pushed around the clothing until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out the plaid and folded it, then stuffed the material into a small satchel. When he was about to leave, something drew him to the adjoining door.
He walked into Ravenna’s chamber and glanced around the perfectly kept room. Not a single piece of clothing, not a comb or ribbon remained. Ravenna was all packed. He spotted her trunk at the foot of the bed and couldn’t resist the urge to peek inside. He wanted to remember what she wore the first time his eyes met hers in the great hall. He needed to smell her lavender scent. God help him.
He wasn’t ready to let her go.
Ruairi lifted the lid to see some kind of bundle lying on top of Ravenna’s clothing. He picked up the cloth and slowly unwrapped four identical daggers.
***
Ravenna waited for Ruairi at the stables. She watched as Torquil’s mount was saddled and jumped when she heard his voice behind her.
“Cuine a tha a’falbh? Cuine a chì mi a-ris thu?”
She looked at the boy and raised her brow. “Pardon?”
“When ye leave? When I see ye…again?”
She paused a moment to gather her words. Since Torquil had spent all this time learning English, her language, she wanted to surprise him and show him what Ruairi had taught her. She spoke slowly to make certain she’d get the words right.
“Ionnlaidh mise m’ aodann.”
Torquil only stared at her, his eyes widening, and then he burst out laughing.
“And what do you find so amusing?” The boy stopped laughing only when he tried to speak, but her annoyance increased when he started to giggle and point his finger at her. “Did I not say the words correctly?”
“Ye tell me ye wash face.”
“Truly? Now you know that’s not what I was trying to say.” Perhaps she should apologize for ripping the Gaelic language to shreds. At least she knew how to say she was sorry. She’d heard Ruairi mumble the foreign words so many times to Fagan that she’d asked him for the meaning.
She turned around and Ruairi stood there, holding the basket in his hands. His face split into a wide grin. “Mayhap ye shouldnae be attempting to speak Gàidhlig in front of Torquil.” Gaelic. “It might be best for us all if ye donna try again.”
“Perhaps you’re right. I apparently told him that I needed to wash my face. At least I know how to say I’m sorry.” She turned and smiled at the boy. “Mo chreach, Torquil.” Damn.
Torquil bent over and his body trembled. She touched his shoulder, and when he straightened, tears welled in his eyes—from laughter. “Ravenna, ye know ye say—”
“Grab your mount, Torquil,” ordered Ruairi.
Not heeding his father’s command, Torquil grabbed Ravenna’s hand and shook it. “An can thu sin a-rithist? An can thu sin a-rithist?” Can you say that again? Can you say that again?
“Torquil!”
“Aye, Da.”
She lifted a brow to Ruairi. “Did I not say that correctly, either?”
“Nay, lass, the words ye said were perfectly clear.”
They mounted their horses and rode casually out the gate. The three of them were on their way to the beach to have the noon meal on a blanket. The image before her made her long for family. Her family. Of course that’s what she meant because she couldn’t possibly imagine anything else.
Ravenna kicked her mount to speed up and reined in next to Ruairi. “Are the Highland winters very harsh?”
He stared at her for a brief moment and then shrugged. “As compared to what? England?”
“Yes.”
“’Tis much colder in the Highlands than even the Lowlands. Aye, my lands are much colder than your own.”
“Do you wear your kilt during the winter solstice?”
He smirked. “Nay, I donna wear anything.” When her mouth dropped, he gave her a roguish grin. “What do ye think? We do wear trews, too.”
“Of course.”
“Why do ye ask?”
All she wanted to do was talk to get her mind off leaving. And how did she accomplish that? Oh, yes, by asking the man daft questions. She was starting to sound like Grace, of all things.
When she turned her head, she realized Ruairi still waited for her answer. “I was only wondering how cold the winters were here. I can imagine there’s quite a chill in the air being so close to the sea.”
“Aye, but ye get used to it.”
They reached the sandy shore, and Ravenna watched while Ruairi spread the blanket and Torquil grabbed the basket from his saddle. They were being quite the gentlemen. As she stood there, the sound of the waves could have lulled her to sleep. She sat down on the blanket with Ruairi while Torquil collected shells on the beach, wandering here and there.
“I want to thank ye for all ye have done for my son. I also want to thank ye for understanding about my wife.”
“I promise to keep my word, and your secret is safe with me. But please make certain you send Torquil to Edinburgh next time to avoid His Majesty’s wrath.”
He chuckled. “I will. I nay longer have a choice. I donna know if ’tis your English blood or what, but I’ve ne’er enjoyed talking to a lass as much as I enjoy talking to ye.”
“Laird Sutherland, it must be your Scottish blood because I’ve never quite met a man like you, I must say. Your love for your son is evident and you are a fine laird.”
“Och, lass. Ye swell my head. Fagan will quickly remind me of that too.” He turned away from her and opened a satchel. He shifted his body on the blanket and blocked her view. When he faced her, he kept one hand placed behind his back and sat very still.
Her eyes became sharp and assessing. “What are you doing?”
“I wanted to give ye something to remember your time here…with me. I thought this might be appropriate.” He handed her material that looked like his k
ilt. “’Tis the Sutherland plaid. I know ye donna wear our Highland dress in England, but I thought you could wear this as a wrap or arisaid. Ye could even use it as a blanket if ye wanted.”
“Ruairi, I don’t know what to say. I’m honored to receive such a gift.” She bent forward and kissed him on the cheek.
“I take it the gift has pleased ye.”
“Yes, but I certainly don’t need the Sutherland plaid to remember you.”
“There is something else.” He reached behind him and handed her a pouch.
“What’s this?”
“Donna be too proud to take it. ’Tis coin. I know it must be difficult for ye to care for your sisters, and your position as a governess cannae pay verra well. Take it to support your clan…er, family.” When he saw that she was hesitant to accept his gift, he added, “Let me help ye because I can.”
Thirteen
When they arrived in the bailey, Torquil went to his chamber to change his clothes. Ruairi couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun with his son. He’d never forget the surprised look that crossed the lad’s face when he’d repaid Torquil’s actions in a way the boy had not anticipated.
Ruairi dismounted and assisted Ravenna from her mount. When her feet were planted on the ground and she graced him with a smile, he felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
“What a lovely day. Thank you for taking the time to spend it with me.”
“’Twas my pleasure, lass. I’m pleased ye enjoyed yourself. I think Torquil did, too.”
She laughed. “If I were you, I’d definitely sleep with one eye open. You know he’s determined to repay your kindness for throwing him in the water.”
“Aye, so he said. If I know my son as well as I think I do, mayhap I should be worried.”
He handed her the bundled plaid from her saddle and she held the material against her breast in a protective embrace. He was glad to see she appreciated his gift—well, at least one of them. Even though she refused to take the coin, he’d be sure to place it in her trunk before she left. She was a stubborn English lass, but he was a clever Scot.
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