by Lucy Monroe
Shona could not gainsay that piece of wisdom.
“And even less than joyful unions have their blessings.” Abigail brushed her daughter’s hair with her hand.
Marjory, who had been eating with single-minded determination, stopped mid-chew to smile engagingly up at her mother.
Shona smiled back, a measure of peace filling her heart that had nothing to do with the revelations of the past twenty-four hours.
And reminding Shona one lesson of great value she’d learned in the last six years. Life did not have to be perfect for moments of joy to color it with beauty.
Shona was taken further out of her own thoughts by the arrival of another warrior, this one wearing the colors of the Balmoral. The leather jerkin he wore with his kilt, however, gave him an appearance every bit as barbaric as Caelis with his bare chest (but for the swath of plaid that crossed it diagonally).
The Balmoral stood far too close to Audrey for propriety’s sake, but then those in the Highlands were not as concerned with such trivialities as other clans or the English.
Usually, those same Highland clans kept to themselves. The fact that both a MacLeod and Balmoral soldier could be found among the Sinclairs was more than a little unexpected.
Shona honestly did not know what to make of it.
“Vegar, join us,” Lady Abigail invited warmly. “I had thought you were hunting.”
So the Balmoral soldier was welcome and an expected guest.
This spoke well for the relations between the Sinclairs and the Balmorals. Again, Shona could work up no excitement over what should have been good news to her ears. Surely she should be considering asking this Vegar to lead her to the Balmorals, at the very least.
Yet none of her previous plans were as real in her mind as the unbelievable turn of events her life had taken since she and her companions had been met by Niall and his warriors.
“Aye, I’ve been hunting. I found what I did not even ken I was looking for.” Vegar’s tone was laced with awed satisfaction and he gave Audrey a look of such heat, Shona felt herself blushing on behalf of her friend.
Whether or not Audrey could still be called by that title wasn’t something Shona wanted to contemplate just then.
Audrey just stared up at the man, the most arrested expression on her lovely features.
Shona couldn’t begin to fathom what was happening. This reaction was most unusual for the innocent Audrey, anyway.
Shona had no way of knowing if the Balmoral warrior made a habit of looking at women thus.
Abigail cleared her throat, amusement lurking in her lovely eyes. “Vegar, this is Audrey, friend to Lady Heronshire.”
“Hello, sweeting.” Vegar’s low growl was at once both entirely inappropriate and filled with the most odd natural possessiveness.
Audrey colored then, her skin going a remarkable shade of pink. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she said in stilted Gaelic.
Audrey and Thomas had done their best to learn the language of Shona’s homeland, but as Shona did with Gaelic, the pair reverted to English in times of stress.
Vegar recoiled, his expression going from interested, almost smitten and nearly awestruck, to stony in a heartbeat. “You are English.”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake!” Abigail’s frustrated exclamation was so loud, she surprised a cry from her babe. “Your tribe hasn’t had dealings with the English in how many generations? Don’t you have enough enemies in the Fearghall? Need you take an entire nation into dislike?”
“Who is making our beautiful Emma fuss now, wife?” Talorc asked, his amusement more than Shona would have thought the situation warranted.
“You do not like the English?” Audrey asked Vegar. The Balmoral winced at the sound of her voice speaking English. She repeated the question in halting Gaelic, her expression crumbling even as the words left her mouth.
Vegar scowled. “The most treacherous among the Fearghall hail from England. ’Tis well known.”
“That is interesting; none of your tribe has shared that tidbit with us,” Talorc said.
Neither man’s words made perfect sense to Shona, but Audrey didn’t look confused in the least. Her ash gray eyes filled with deeper and deeper levels of hurt, while her mouth trembled though she bit her bottom lip to hide it.
“Why do you believe that?” the Sinclair laird asked, apparently oblivious to Audrey’s distress or Vegar’s anger.
“That is a discussion better saved for another time,” Vegar responded with a look around the great hall.
So, not all the Sinclairs were aware of the Chrechte’s true natures any more than Shona had been when she’d lived among the MacLeod.
“Talorc!” Abigail said with exasperation.
She was not deaf to the distress of her fellow Englishwoman.
Shona wasn’t either, but nor did she understand it. Vegar was a stranger. While his low opinion of the English was not exactly pleasant for Audrey, or Thomas for that matter, to listen to, it could hardly be of great concern to them.
Or was Audrey worried Vegar’s attitude would prevent them from finding refuge among his clan? Shona could not believe the younger woman was convinced of that notion—not after she’d warned Audrey about that very thing before they ever made the journey.
Vegar looked down at Audrey, shaking his head with clear disappointment. “English.”
He didn’t say anything else, but apparently that was enough for Audrey.
Her eyes darkened to storm clouds and moisture pooled against the lower lids. “That is just too bloody perfect. I’ve lost the regard of my dearest friend in the world and my mate hates me because I was born in a country not his own.”
Shona didn’t know what was going on, but the distress in Audrey’s voice moved her as nothing else could.
Before she could reach out a comforting hand though, Audrey had jumped from her seat. “Do not worry yourself, Vegar of the Highland. I no more want a dirty savage for a mate than you want an Englishwoman.”
Audrey spun on her heel and rushed from the hall.
Shona had no idea what had happened, but she jumped to her own feet and glared at the newcomer. “Uncouth barbarian, how dare you upset my friend so?”
Vegar, who was looking after Audrey like a hunter deprived of his prey, jerked around to scowl down at Shona. “This does not concern you, English.”
“I believe you have forgotten that I am English,” Abigail said in chilling tones before Shona could open her mouth to respond.
Laird Sinclair inserted, “Used to be English.” But then he turned a truly frightening gaze on Vegar. “Insult my wife and you insult me.”
Vegar paled at that warning.
But then Caelis was standing behind Shona, his big body in a clearly protective stance. “Apologize.”
“For what?” Vegar demanded.
“Raising your voice to my mate,” Caelis replied in a deadly tone Shona did not like one little bit.
And then something struck Shona that she could not ignore. Everyone kept throwing that word around. Mate.
She knew what Caelis meant when he said it. He believed his wolf needed Shona’s presence for contentment.
Audrey had called Vegar mate. Did she mean the same thing?
And if she did, how could she have known it so quickly. And if she knew in the instant of meeting, how could Shona believe Caelis’s claim that he had not?
‘Twas all most confusing.
She turned to face Caelis and discovered she liked the threatening look on his handsome face even less than she’d liked his tone that promised violence and mayhem.
“Do not take this so to heart. I am not so weak I cannot survive a few harsh words. Besides, I don’t consider being called English an insult,” she said as much for Abigail’s benefit as because it was true.
She had learned in her six years living in the southern country that there were good and bad among the English, just like the Scots. Though this Vegar might well not realize it, that
went for the Chrechte as well.
For all his faults, she would take her deceased husband as baron over Uven as laird.
“A woman with sense,” Abigail said loudly.
Caelis ignored the laird’s wife’s words, just as he’d ignored Shona’s. He was still too busy glowering at the other man. “Apologize,” he demanded again.
“She would stand between me and my mate.”
Caelis wasn’t moved in the least by the other man’s words. “If she does, than so will I.”
“You are my friend, our bonds forged this past year as we trained to be Cahir.”
“She is my true mate.”
“As that Englishwoman is mine.” There was slightly less disdain in his tone when he uttered the word English than there had been before.
But only slightly.
“You are Chrechte,” Shona said. There was no longer in any doubt about what this man and Audrey meant when they used that word, mate.
The man did not bother to reply.
Caelis growled.
“I am,” Vegar ground out between clenched teeth.
“And you believe on the strength of such a brief meeting that she is your mate.”
“She is mine. English or Lowlander, Audrey belongs to me.”
“Perhaps you should have come to that conclusion before insulting the sweet woman to the point of tears,” Abigail said scathingly.
“So you do remember her name,” Shona added, making no effort to hide her own disgust at Vegar’s reaction to meeting a woman he claimed to be his true mate.
And Shona was still uncertain what that meant in the face of Caelis’s explanations the night before. If the rest of her morning was what to go by, it was nothing good.
Thomas stood then, his expression both fascinated and worried. A strange combination, Shona thought, considering that his sister was the subject of this particular debate. “Shona, would you still trust your children in my care?”
“Of course,” she said before she thought about it and then frowned, but she would not take the words back.
Thomas and Audrey had not trusted Shona, had lacerated the small parts of her heart unwounded by life already with their lies, but did she trust him with her children? Yes.
She believed he would give his life to protect Eadan and Marjory, but that was something to contemplate on later.
“Do not change your mind now,” Thomas said, as if reading Shona’s thoughts. “Audrey and I have hurt you grievously. I only ask for the opportunity to explain.”
Talorc barked, “Not here,” showing he was not half as oblivious as he liked to pretend.
“Nay. And not now,” Thomas agreed.
The laird nodded his acceptance of the promise, for promise it was, said in a tone far more serious than Shona usually heard from the young man. Even during their flight from England.
“You have a point, I assume, in asking if I trusted you with Eadan and Marjory.”
Thomas nodded vigorously. “I did. Audrey needs you at present. Her mate has just rejected her.”
“I did not reject her,” Vegar growled.
“That’s certainly what it sounded like to me,” Abigail said with a frown for good measure.
Whatever favor she’d held the soldier in before, he’d certainly slipped in the Sinclair lady’s estimation with his behavior toward Audrey.
Vegar had gone from powerful, barbaric warrior to beleaguered man in the space of moments. His expression now was belligerent, but underneath Shona could see the worry in his color-changing eyes as they shifted from pale brown to green in his agitation.
“’Twas not my intent.”
Thomas dismissed the bigger man with a shrug of one shoulder and met Shona’s gaze, his own eyes, which were the same ash gray as his sister’s, filled with worry. “She needs you and if you will go to her I would count it a great favor—not that I deserve one from you.”
“It is not a favor to comfort a friend.”
The look of relief on Thomas’s features was hard to see. He was both so young and all adult protective male in that instant, it hurt Shona’s heart in a good way.
She’d watched him grow from boy to man, and despite his deceptions about his true nature, she was pleased with the outcome.
“I will watch over Eadan and Marjory,” he explained in case Shona had any doubts what his earlier question had been leading up to.
“I as well,” Caelis said, his bad humor seeming to have taken another turn for the worse.
Though, once again, Shona had no idea why. The man’s moods were as mercurial as spring weather.
Shona nodded to Thomas, including Caelis in with a short glance, and then turned to curtsy and take her leave from the laird and his lady.
“I will be up to check on you both after I have settled Emma.” Abigail’s clear concern relieved Shona more than it would have a day ago.
When she’d believed she knew Audrey better than any other. Now, Shona knew that Audrey’s life was dictated by circumstances she still found fancifully hard to believe.
Presumably Abigail had more experience of this world of mates and Chrechte, seeing as how she was married to one.
Before Shona could leave, however, Caelis’s hand clamped onto her wrist like a manacle. He glared at Vegar. “Apologize.”
Vegar sighed and dipped his head slightly. “I did not intend to upset you, Lady Heronshire.”
Caelis growled again.
Shona sighed, vexed beyond reasoning at this point. “What now?”
“What would you have me call her? Shona?” Vegar demanded of Caelis.
“Aye.”
Shona smacked Caelis’s arm, wincing when it hurt her hand far more than she was sure it had his stonelike muscles. “That liberty is only mine to give.”
“I’ll not have you called by that bastard’s name.”
“I assure you, the baron was unquestionably legitimate.”
“You did not belong to him.”
Without any warning, bile rose in Shona’s throat at the memory of how very much she had indeed belonged to the old man.
Abigail gasped as if she knew and Caelis reached for Shona, but she stepped away, turning to face Vegar.
She forced the sickness away to allow words to travel past her tight throat.
“I forgive you the small slight, but do not expect things to be so easy with Audrey. She’s learned too well in her past how damaging a man’s regard can be when he believes himself above the woman nature has ordained as his mate.”
She didn’t know the whole story of Audrey’s and Thomas’s lives, but she could assume their mother, not the baron, was the Chrechte. One thing Shona was certain of, if only in the possessive, superior way that drove Uven, no Chrechte man would willingly release his shifter children to serve a human master.
As their mother had been dead by the time they were sold into servitude, she had to have been the parent to share her nature with a wolf. The decision to do so had been entirely their father’s.
A father who had no doubt been drawn to his mate as Shona was to Caelis, but who had treated the woman with little concern and even less respect as his lehman.
Thomas sucked in his breath as if Shona’s understanding shocked him. Perhaps he should be surprised. He and his sister were nowhere near professional liars and they had managed to maintain their secret from Shona for five years.
They must consider her an idiot of the first order.
“How did my father realize you were shifters?”
“He said it was the way we moved,” Thomas replied. “He knew the first time he saw us.”
How strange to think of her father being so very adept at perceiving the animal-like grace of the Chrechte when he had been so blind to his own daughter’s misery.
Chapter 11
The secrets of the Chrechte must be kept until the day comes when all peoples of humanity are considered one and equal in the sight of all others.
—THE WORDS OF THE CELI DI
&
nbsp; Shona didn’t bother to knock before pushing open the door to the room she’d found Audrey in with the children the night before.
Her friend stood silent and still, staring into space. Audrey’s expression bleak; her eyes were wet and tracks for tears showed on her pale cheeks, but she was not crying. At least, not right now.
Shona sighed, her own anger and pain sliding into the background as she observed the younger woman. “He’s an idiot.”
Perhaps they were not the most politic words to speak, but verily, they were no lie.
Audrey started, as if she had not realized Shona had come into the room.
That was quite unusual and Shona now understood why. Her English friend shared her nature with a wolf and had the keener hearing of the beast because of it.
“Are you truly so distressed about the opinion of a man you have barely made an acquaintance of?” Shona asked when Audrey remained silent, her head averted.
The younger woman turned abruptly, her long, pale blond hair flying around her. “He is not the only one whose regard I have lost this morning.”
Shona sighed, not sure if she was ready to go into that particular imbroglio. “You did not lose his regard. He was simply surprised you are English is all. He’s already lamenting his stupidity.”
“And your regard?” Audrey’s ash gray gaze implored her. “Shona…you are the sister my mother could not bear.”
“So I have felt these five years past.” She truly had, which made the betrayal at her friends’ hands that much harder to bear.
“And now?” Audrey asked, her voice trembling with emotion.
“You hid the truth of yourself…the truth of my son’s nature…from me for all of those years.”
“We could not be certain he would shift. Mother told me that not all children born of a mixed mating would have a Chrechte nature. She was not even sure both Thomas and I would shift into a wolf. She died believing Thomas’s nature was fully human.”
“How can that be?”
“My first shift happened a full year before Thomas’s.”
“When was that?”
“With the coming of my menses. It started early and I shifted to a wolf the first full moon after. I was but twelve summers.”