“More than likely two or three,” Davros said, nodding, thinking about what Hamish was implying. “And the guard is where he had the most influence.”
Hamish bounced an index finger in agreement. “That wisdom of yours is exactly why I came to see you today.”
Davros smiled. “Not sure how I can help you, but I don’t mind answering a few questions.”
Mairead’s jaw went slack. “Why?” she asked in a forceful tone. “Just why are you so willing to talk to Hamish?”
Jeán’s eyes widened. She looked at her husband, who just shrugged before returning her shocked gaze back to Mairead. “I must say I’m surprised that you object.”
Mairead shook her head. “I don’t. But I just do not understand. Davros, you avoid talking to anyone in the guard and you most particularly dislike to answer questions. So why are you, like everyone else,” her emphasis conveyed her exasperation, “completely willing to open up to Hamish when it is not in your nature?”
Davros fought from smiling. He could see why Mairead would be mystified, especially as he refused to answer many of her questions. But there was something about Hamish that he just trusted. It did not mean he would go to war for him or reveal any deep secrets, but it did compel him to conversations that he might not normally have had.
“First,” Davros began, “I don’t dislike answering questions. I dislike answering ridiculous questions. Most of the ones you pose are about your feelings or worse, someone else’s feelings, or some other female thing I could care less about. Second, Hamish may be here to support his brother, but outside of that, I see him as a McTiernay with no allegiances to any person or clan in these parts.”
Hamish did not respond and was glad that no one looked at him to add anything or denounce Davros’s assessment. Truth was he was not sure how he felt about it. On many aspects Davros was correct. Based on his home, his philosophy, and where he felt most needed and accepted, he was a McTiernay. But he had been born a MacBrieve. He was proud that his father had been Laird MacBrieve and did not want anyone to think otherwise. It had not occurred to him that like Jeán and Davros and so many others at Foinaven, he had been living with one clan while still maintaining allegiances to another. Aye, he wore the McTiernay plaid, but did he too have divided loyalties?
Davros placed his hands on the table and rose to his feet. “Well, I know that Mairead came to say hello to Jeán as she promised. Let’s move our conversation out to the byre, Hamish, so we don’t disturb their time together.”
Mairead’s eyes grew large and displeasure rippled along her spine. She opened her mouth to state that she too was keenly interested in what he and Hamish were going to discuss and would not be left out of the conversation. But before she could utter more than a couple of incoherent words, Jeán grabbed her hand and squeezed. “That is very thoughtful, Davros. Mairead and I do have much to talk about.”
* * *
Mairead’s lips formed a thin line. “Why didn’t you allow me to stop them? I wanted to hear what they were going to say.”
Jeán patted Mairead’s hand and relaxed again in her chair. “I could tell. Every time Ulrick was mentioned you began to fidget so much that even a nothaist could tell that you knew nothing of Hamish’s plans and that none of your methods to learn them had worked. Let me guess. You spied on Hamish and when that did not work, you then attempted to trick him into telling you his plans. What else have you tried? Coercion? Persuasion?”
Mairead reached out, avoiding Jeán’s knowing look, and clasped the half-full mug in front of her. “I tried all of those and I also threatened him. Today, hearing what Hamish had to say to Davros, was my best chance to learn at least his basic strategy. And you cannot convince me that you too are not interested in what it is.”
Jeán smiled and went to pour some more water in Mairead’s mug and refill her own. “Of course I am, but I only have to practice a little patience as Davros will tell me everything after you and Hamish are gone. Besides, if you had insisted on following, you and I both know that Hamish would have left here without disclosing anything important.” She sat back down and gave Mairead a mischievous smile. “And I had my own reasons for keeping you here with me.”
Mairead eyed the older woman. Jeán’s eyes were sparkling with controlled excitement and it gave Mairead a sudden sense of foreboding. “And just what are those reasons?”
“Why to learn more about Hamish of course.” Jeán winked at Mairead, who in return rolled her eyes. “Do not pretend with me, Mairead. I saw you two look at each other. You have finally found someone who not only can meet your level of wit, but he is not at all intimidated by you. In fact, I think he actually enjoys tackling the challenges you pose. So, I approve.”
Mairead’s jaw dropped slightly. “You approve? Of what? Because if you think I am interested in Hamish, I can assure you, nothing could be further from the truth.”
Jeán ignored Mairead and closed her eyes, tapping her mug with the tip of her finger. “Davros said Hamish was rather scruffy upon his arrival, but I must say I found the man to be very good-looking. If I were younger”—Jeán sighed—“and of course never met Davros, you would have to fight for him.”
Mairead had to convince Jeán she was wrong. “You would be fighting with someone else because I’m not interested.”
Jeán took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and exhaled with exaggerated contentment. “How do you not melt each time he smiles?”
Unease began to fill Mairead as she began to realize Jeán was not just teasing—she was serious. “I find it amazingly easy to do.”
Jeán sighed and took a sip of water. “I wish Davros had dimples like that. Got to love a man with dimples.”
“You wouldn’t find them so attractive if you realized those dimples belonged to the most frustrating man alive,” Mairead snapped. “He flashes them to every lady who passes by and they all just fall in line to do with whatever he pleases.” Mairead prayed her words would alter Jeán’s impression. “You know Ava and Sophie?” Jeán nodded. “Well, after a few words and smiles from Hamish, they now inexplicably get along. The man plays on women’s feelings—and a key tool he uses are those dimples you love so much.”
Instead of curbing Jeán’s bubbly demeanor, it strengthened it. Her eyes grew bright and she could barely sit still she was so happy. “Och! Jealousy. Be careful, sounds like you are on the verge of falling in love with the man,” she said, her singsong voice causing a large knot to form in Mairead’s stomach.
Jeán had always had a mercurial personality. Typically, her character was the one she had sported during their noon meal—easygoing with bouts of clever words and insightfulness. When Mairead needed a listener, Jeán had provided support by just being there or by offering insight and wisdom. But when she clasped onto an idea—especially something she was excited about—Jeán became a dogged force of nature. She was unstoppable and confusing at the same time. And in the end, she somehow persuaded you to join her way of thinking. This was about to be one of those times if Mairead was not careful.
Jeán had moved from simmering glee to energetic and was now practically frothing with excitement. If Mairead did not end this misconception about her and Hamish, Jeán would have their wedding planned by the end of the day. She needed to understand that there was no bride and groom!
Jeán hummed and took another drink. “Don’t worry, I’m sure if Hamish thought someone was vying for you, you would see several sparks fly.”
“I’m not worried about Hamish.” I’m worried about you, but Mairead had not the chance to finish her thought.
“You needn’t be jealous. Aye, Hamish is the affable sort, but he flirts to hide his discomfort. I suspect he is much like my Davros and very selective about whom he spends his time with. And I understand you two have spent quite a bit of time together.”
“We are friends, Jeán. Nothing more.”
Jeán placed her mug on the table, her smile suddenly gone. Her brown eyes drilled into Mairead’s haz
el ones. “You can fool yourself, but not me, cara. Hamish looks beyond your beauty and sees you, all of you. What’s more he likes what he sees and respects your opinion. Who else have you met who does that?”
“Davros, Robert, little Rab,” Mairead quipped.
Jeán issued her a pointed stare. “You would be a fool to discount such gifts. It is so rare to find them in anyone, but in a good-looking, eligible man who clearly finds you attractive? It’s a miracle. What I cannot understand is why you are spending your efforts learning about this plan of his instead of catching him.”
Mairead suddenly wished Jeán went back to being bubbly. It was not emotionally healthy to consider Hamish in the light Jeán was painting him. “I won’t deny there is an . . . attraction between us, but beyond that you are wrong. I have good reason to doubt Hamish cares about my opinion. The man doesn’t trust me. He won’t tell me anything—from his plans for Ulrick, which I have a right to know, to inconsequential things, like how he spends his mornings in his chambers.”
Jeán raised an eyebrow at that part. “I suspect Hamish does nothing more than any of us do—sleep and dress.”
Mairead snorted and crossed her arms. “He’s in there for hours. Sleep and dress? I don’t believe it.”
Jeán crossed her arms and then raised her hand to tap her index finger against her chin. “Almost,” she said quietly. “Clever. You almost distracted me there.” She leaned forward. “Hamish may not trust you yet, but that is only because he doesn’t realize how much he cares for you. That”—she paused and pointed to Mairead—“will require your help.”
“He does not care—”
“I think you should kiss him.”
Mairead stared openmouthed at her friend for several seconds. Jeán just stared back, her suggestion completely serious. Mairead threw her hands in the air. “Are you even listening to me?”
“To every word. When you return to Foinaven, bathe and have one of the chambermaids do your hair. Oh, and you can wear that one gown that—”
“Jeán, whatever you are thinking a bath and a gown would accomplish, you could not be more wrong. We have already kissed and nothing happened.”
Jeán’s eyes grew large and the excitement from a few minutes ago returned anew. “That why you are so scared. You liked it.”
Mairead tried to look disgusted. “He had a beard at the time. I imagine it was the same as kissing the top of a man’s head.”
Jeán ignored her. “He liked it too I expect. So how many times have you kissed?”
“Only once!” Mairead exclaimed. “And it was just to shut me up. What’s more, is that we both made a deal that it would not happen again.”
“O’ mo chreach! You both really liked it.”
Mairead threw her hands up in the air. “And you really aren’t listening to me.”
Jeán shrugged. “You wouldn’t either if you could hear what you are saying. If neither of you enjoyed the experience, a deal to prevent it from happening again would be pointless, no?”
Mairead knew she was gaping but was unable to come up with a valid argument. What Jeán said was true, but Mairead was not going to admit to it.
Jeán gave her a knowing grin. “You’ve probably thought of little else since you struck that silly deal. And I don’t blame you. A man that good-looking as well as funny, intelligent, and caring. You’d be insane not to kiss him again. Besides, how else are you going to know how you really feel about him?”
Mairead pushed back her chair and stood up to pace, despite the small area. “I’m going to indulge you for just a moment. Let’s say you are right. That I did enjoy his kiss and agree that he is somewhat close to the type of man I might want to spend my life with. I will even entertain the idea that he is attracted to me. But beyond that? You heard him talking about that woman Wyenda almost ensnaring him. He believes love only ends in tragedy. I don’t want a man afraid to love, but one who will embrace it completely. But even if I didn’t, it would not matter. Hamish is leaving Foinaven. And this time he will never return.”
Jeán shrugged. “Then let him know that you are willing to go with him.”
Mairead swallowed. Leaving Foinaven was just not something she was willing to consider, but she was not about to tell Jeán that. It would start a stream of questions that would never cease until the woman knew everything. And no one needed to know these secrets. They were hers to handle alone. “And leave Foinaven? Never see my sister again?” Mairead finally responded. “Abandon her when she needs me?”
“People leave their homes and their families all the time. I left mine when I came here three years ago. I wanted a chance for new memories. Do not let family keep you from a chance to be happy. But we both know that Hamish and Robert are speaking again and his willingness to stay here for a few weeks means it would not be that difficult to convince him to return periodically for a visit. As far as Selah needing you, your sister is several years older and was the one who taught you most of what you know about running a castle. Aye, her approach is soft, but she knows what needs to be done. And there is always the option of hiring a steward.”
Jeán paused to stand up and move to clutch Mairead’s hands in her own. “Davros believes you were husband hunting the other day. Were you?”
Mairead looked at the ceiling to avoid looking Jeán in the eye. “Aye. But it is not what you think.”
“If you want to tell me, I’ll listen.” Mairead shook her head and closed her eyes. Jeán squeezed her fingers. “Mairead, you sometimes get so focused on an idea that you find it hard to consider that there may be other alternatives.” Mairead opened her eyes. What Jeán was saying was true. Had that not just happened a few days ago when she thought the only solution to Ulrick was an army? “Be broad-minded, Mairead, especially about yourself and your future. Be open to discovering your true feelings and only then decide what you want to do. Don’t end a possibility too early. You and Hamish have a connection. I saw it. So did Davros, and you both feel it. What that means, could it turn into something more, is something you will need to find out.”
Mairead swallowed. “How?”
Jeán gave Mairead’s hands a final squeeze and let them go. “First, let Hamish know that you do trust him by actually trusting him. Let go this need to know his plan. I understand you feel vulnerable, but men want women who believe in them, not their plans.” Then, with a grin and a playful wiggle of her brow, she said, “Next, you must kiss Hamish. And not just a peck but in a way that would make Davros blush. When it is over, there needs to be no doubt on how you feel about each other.”
Mairead bit her bottom lip. How she wanted to give herself permission to just succumb to her desire to kiss Hamish, for it had not diminished in the least. If anything, it had grown. That was what worried her. Based on her response to his touch when she believed she was not attracted to him, kissing him now could be dangerous. For she was fairly certain that once she was in Hamish’s embrace, she would lack the control to keep things merely at a kiss.
* * *
“I appreciate your listening,” Hamish said as he followed Davros out the byre and back outside. The barn emitted a mixture of smells from all the birds kept in there. Hamish had been surprised that Davros had so many. Most independent falconers only had one or two birds; this falconer had ten.
Instead of heading back to the cottage, Davros turned toward a clearing. He shielded his eyes. The sun had come out and the wind had died, warming the air by several degrees. He stared at the set of nearby hills. “Let me think. Now that you’ve explained what I’ve been seeing, I have much to think about. And that also includes just how your brother is going to react.”
“You think Robert will cause problems?”
“I like Robert MacBrieve and his wife. He respects people and has the capacity to be both generous and frugal when appropriate. And yet while he cares, he has no experience with military matters or keeping a clan secure. A good clan leader can learn these things, but your brother lets his own persona
l philosophies cloud his ability to accept reality. And yet Robert is still the one with final say over Foinaven and its security. He is a major factor and one you cannot control.”
That did not bother Hamish. “One never controls most elements of any situation, but that does not mean they are not predictable. The key is not to depend on any assumption. Plan, act, and always have options when things take a twist.”
“And you are prepared for your brother?”
Hamish smiled reassuringly. “I wouldn’t be here if I did not expect to succeed.”
Davros pursed his lips and after a few seconds nodded. “Never thought I’d support a MacBrieve in a confrontation, but I believe you will succeed. Moreover, I want to be there when you do.”
Hamish’s smile widened, as he felt oddly triumphant to have convinced the falconer to join his cause. He leaned against a tree, glad the sun had made an appearance—even if it was only temporary. It was almost comfortable outside. “You called me a McTiernay just a little while ago.”
Davros nodded but kept his gaze on the distance. “That I did.”
“I’m not one, by the way. Rightfully, I am a MacBrieve.”
“No one will know who you are until you do. But it does bolster my confidence thinking a McTiernay is spearheading this endeavor, not a MacBrieve.”
Hamish knew he should be insulted by the somewhat insensitive comment. But he wasn’t. “I guess I should not be surprised that you say that.” Hamish had been born a MacBrieve but never felt like one. They were either administrative judges or builders like his brother. They were not a clan of warriors. “My father used to feel displaced at times. I remember him telling me once that it didn’t matter whether we fit the MacBrieve mold, we would just change it. Our legacy of MacBrieves would be one of warriors and leaders—men of strength and honor. He did not realize his legacy would live through Robert, who has not needed to break the mold. He is a true MacBrieve.”
It was Hamish who was the fraud. It was why he had always been more comfortable with the McTiernays. He loved Robert, but he had an indescribable bond with Conor and his brothers. Hamish understood them, and more important, they understood him.
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