“That is your world, Hamish, where fighting is a norm. We are far north, away from the conflicts you see in your part of the Highlands.”
“What about the Mackays?” he barked. “And the Keiths, Rosses, Gunns, and Sinclairs? They live and fight all around you! Even the Sutherlands participate in endless battles.”
“They ignore us because we pose no threat,” Robert said smugly.
“They ignore you because you have a stone castle and assume you are like our father,” Hamish countered. “But things would be different if they knew your castle had no gate.” His tone was one of disgust.
“You and Father are so driven by war and defense. He wanted a gate as well but died before Foinaven was completed. I opted not to see that part of his vision.”
Hamish inhaled sharply. “Father would have never left Foinaven to you if he knew that you would go against his wishes in such a way.”
“Father gave me nothing. Menzies MacMhathain did when he died and I married Selah.”
Hamish balled his fists. Menzies had not bequeathed Robert Foinaven through his daughter. Robert had not even fought in the deadly battle. It had been he who had held the dying man’s hand and made a promise to marry his daughter in order to protect his people. But it was too late to change things back to the way Menzies and his father had intended.
Robert was not finished. “And you are wrong about Father. Before he died, I made a vow to him to lead these people and do what I thought was best and right for them. And I have done just that. I made Foinaven a safe haven for all—not just for some—by making other clans feel welcomed, not giving them a reason to fear us. And time has proven the validity of my approach. We have not been attacked; we have grown.”
“I understand the importance of inviting the needy and giving them shelter and opportunity. Murt! Conor McTiernay gave that to me twelve years ago and I am grateful every day. But what you speak of is unnatural growth that imports ideas and cultures. These clans you opened your arms to are not personally invested in everyone’s welfare. Without that investment, there is only a false sense of loyalty. The moment Foinaven no longer gives them what they seek, they will turn and flee somewhere else for a better situation. They will not fight because they consider nothing theirs. This is not their clan. They do not wear the MacBrieve tartan. And this castle is simply a place. I may be a MacBrieve by birth and I kept the name to honor my father, but when I am with the McTiernays, I proudly wear their tartan, displaying to all that I am not just there, I am with them.”
Robert was not swayed. “You were not here, Hamish, for the winters, for the illnesses that came, the bad harvests. These people have had hard times and they did not leave. You make assumptions and assume the worst.”
Hamish speared his hand through his hair, a frown creasing his forehead. “Perhaps you are right, Robert. I should have more faith in people. Perhaps these people do see themselves as a unit and not separate entities, but if that is so, then they have even more of a right to be protected and not have their futures jeopardized the way you are planning.”
Robert threw his hands in the air. “Then do it! Tell the guard to return to their farms, their previous lives, and replace them with this new army of yours. Declare to the whole world that you are here and Foinaven is a fortress of doom and death for whoever dares to attack it!”
Hamish slammed his fist on a nearby table, causing it to rattle. “I am not laird here, Robert! You are!”
“Then you have heard my decision.”
Hamish glared at his younger brother. Five dozen fighting men might protect Robert and his family against Ulrick, but soon afterward it would dissolve and his brother would be vulnerable again. If Robert was going to truly protect this clan, it would take a fundamental shift in his thinking, which was unlikely from ever happening.
“And you have heard mine,” Hamish said coldly. He turned and left. He headed straight for the stables, giving word to Adiran to tell Mairead that he would be back most likely after nightfall.
Meanwhile, Robert sank into one of his chairs and warmed his hands by the fire. A minute later, Selah stepped in, visibly rattled.
“Sit, my love. All is well.”
“It did not sound well.”
Robert grinned at her, but the smile was not reflected in his eyes. “It was not supposed to.”
“Is Rab really in danger?”
Robert closed his eyes and sighed. He would not lie to his wife. “Aye, as are you, but only if my plan falls through and Hamish leaves.”
“And if he does?”
He opened his eyes and stared into her large, hazel orbs. He had been drowning in those compassionate pools since he had first seen them. “Then you and Rab will go with Hamish while I stay and do what must be done.” She was about to argue and he grabbed her hand. “It won’t come to that, Selah. Hamish will stay. You will see.”
“I hope you are right about all this.”
“I was right about Mairead and Hamish.”
Selah sighed and tilted her head slightly in acknowledgment. “True, but that was easy to predict after seeing them argue that one night.”
“But who was the one who told them to stay away from each other?” Robert prompted, a note of pride in his voice. “It was a stroke of genius for getting together two of the most stubborn people this world has ever seen.”
“What about now? Are you still so assured of your genius?”
“When it comes to Hamish?” Robert’s voice no longer held the confidence from just a moment ago. “I know in my heart that I must stay the course,” he said softly, grabbing her hand for reassurance. “I truly believe that negotiations are the way to handle conflict.”
“As do I.” Selah’s voice was soft and supportive, as it always was. “I also know that you have your doubts.”
Robert nodded. “I have long been plagued by them.”
Selah leaned over and kissed him softly on his cheek. “That is why your plan is the right one.”
Robert smiled, this time more sincerely. “We will see.”
“When Hamish and you were talking, Mairead and I were just across the hall.”
“She heard the whole thing?” Robert asked.
Selah nodded. “The whole thing.”
Robert chuckled. He suddenly felt much better. “Then very soon it should get real interesting.”
* * *
Mairead sat in her chambers in front of the fire, glad to have a chair once again. She had had another one from the great hall brought up for Hamish. She had thought he would insist on staying on the bottom floor, but he had simply shrugged and said, “It served its purpose. Besides, your bed is much bigger.”
Hamish entered the room and watched Mairead tug a brush through her hair, causing the waves to glisten. He could see the action was not one with the goal of removing tangles, but as a way of releasing frustration. They had been married for only a day, but he knew that asking her what was wrong would be pointless. His wife would speak about what was bothering her when she was ready.
Mairead waited until Hamish had unbelted his plaid, removed his shoes, and sat down beside her. She had undressed earlier, but feeling exposed just sitting in her chemise, she stood and donned a robe. She was glad for she saw a gleam in his eye when she turned back around and she did not need him to be distracted right now. They needed to talk.
“I cannot believe you allowed Robert to make the final decision on how to handle Ulrick.” Mairead waited for a response, but Hamish just sat there, refusing to defend his actions. “You know that your brother is completely out of his depth. He knows nothing about dealing with the man he will be facing. Allowing him to dictate how to handle Ulrick’s return goes against everything you told me last night. The safety of my sister, our nephew, and many innocent people are depending on you, for only you know what to do,” she lamented.
“Your trust in me seems to have vanished quite quickly,” he snarled. Mairead sucked in her breath sharply. His tone was one of anger, but
his eyes were wounded. Her accusations had hurt him deeply. “This world is harsh, but my responsibility is not to Foinaven or its people, but to you. I exhausted what little obligation I had to Robert when I told him of the danger he is in and then gave him a way to not only handle Ulrick but ensure the security of his family and this clan in the future. Robert chose another path. He knew what that meant and so do you.”
Mairead shook her head in disbelief. “But we cannot leave.”
Hamish’s jaw twitched, refusing to be dissuaded. “The men I pulled together will ensure your sister’s safety from Ulrick far more than your continued presence.”
“I did not mean that.”
“I’m not staying, Mairead. I am a commander with a brother who refuses to let me command.”
“You are right.” Her voice was hesitant, as she chose her words carefully. “You cannot stay as a commander, but there is another choice. You have come to know these people. You know more than anything they desperately want a leader and already look to you as such. How can we leave knowing that? How can you?”
Hamish’s eyes darkened dangerously. “I made that decision twelve years ago and you made yours last night. When I go, you go.” He took deep, slow breaths and stared at her, his eyes arctic cold. He believed she was on the verge of breaking her promise. “You vowed to stay with me.”
Mairead immediately moved from her chair and knelt in front of him. She gathered his hands in hers and squeezed. “If you leave, Hamish, have no doubt that I will be at your side. I chose you and I always will choose you. But I also know that leaving is not the only choice you have. Not when there is another way.” Her lashes fluttered against a sudden spurt of tears. Mairead hated arguing with him but some things had to be said. “I love Robert. I do. But he never earned the title of laird and to leave knowing your own clansmen deserved and wanted better—it is akin to running away.”
“You think I ran away twelve years ago?” he spat, rising to his feet to pace in front of her.
“No!” Mairead denied vehemently. “I never believed that. But when you left then, it was not as it would be now. Twelve years ago, your father was alive. He knew how to be a leader and keep the clan safe. And as much as you may want to, you cannot abandon these people—and a brother and nephew you love—when you know the danger that is coming.”
Hamish’s mouth was a firm, unyielding line. To most, it spoke of a total lack of emotion, but Mairead got just the opposite impression. Hamish had heard her and he was thinking.
“Do you truly comprehend what you are asking me to do, to not just my brother but your sister and their son? This is their home. To take that away could tear us apart as a family. Can you live with that outcome? Are you really willing to risk never talking to your sister again on the chance that I might be a better leader?”
“Aye, but I hope it would not be like that,” she whispered. Mairead looked away. She pulled her knees to her chest as tears flowed down her cheeks and gave him a yearning glance from under her long lashes. “Why does there have to be only two options—stay and replace Robert or leave? When I thought you had no plans at all, you said you had several. Contingencies for contingencies. Is there really no way you can work with Robert?”
Hamish studied the flames in the fireplace, contemplating her question. He had been so frustrated with Robert, then so surprised by Mairead’s insistence on their staying that he had instinctively resisted, shutting down all other possibilities. But McTiernays never had only a single strategy to winning a battle and neither did he. He had created options soon after his arrival and even put some of them into play for just such a situation.
Hamish pulled Mairead to her feet. “Aye. There are other options. Even one that would allow me to do what I was originally planning while playing to Robert’s sensibilities.”
Mairead threw her arms around Hamish and fastened her mouth on his. “I knew it,” she said full of the unwavering faith that she had in him. “I never stopped trusting you. I just needed to help you to remember to trust yourself.”
A slow smile curved Hamish’s mouth. “Trust myself?”
Mairead nodded her head and then laid it on his chest. Hamish may believe otherwise, but she knew if they stayed, there could still be those consequences he warned her about. And while they were for the benefit of all, she hated the pain they might cause. She just prayed that by the time Ulrick arrived, Robert finally would be ready to actually lead the clan. For the same honor that forced Hamish to leave twelve years ago could also bind him to Foinaven forever.
She just prayed Hamish did not hate her for it.
She felt him kiss her hair and looked up. He framed her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly. Soon fierce longing and desire began to build within them both.
Hamish pulled away and smiled. His eyes were sparkling with promised passion. “You know,” he drawled, “I didn’t just learn strategies and plans from the McTiernays.”
Her eyes returned his twinkle with a mischievous one of her own as her fingers ran up his leg, taking his leine with them. “They weren’t?”
He shook his head. His face brimmed with anticipation. “I learned that the best part of fighting is the making up.”
* * *
Selah curled up next to Robert’s side in bed. It felt so good to lie next to him. He was almost completely well and growing stronger every day. It was nice to lean on him again. She needed him, right now more than ever. He had a plan, but this part of it was causing her anxiety to once again grow.
“They’ve finally stopped fighting,” she whispered. The whole keep had been able to hear Mairead and Hamish argue with each other. She and Robert had disagreed over the years, but not on the second day of their marriage and never had they raised their voices to such levels. She had been afraid what little Rab might think if he awoke, but Noma assured her that he was blissfully unaware of the anger waging so close to him.
“That means they are making up,” Robert offered in an attempt to comfort his wife’s fears.
“What if you are wrong? Maybe one of them left.”
“We would have heard the door slam shut,” he teased.
His attempt at banter did not mollify her. “There was so much anger,” Selah mused solemnly. “I know you expected it given their personalities, but Robert.” She paused rising to one elbow to look down at him. “Is it moral to use such means even if our intentions are for the greater good?”
“In this case, aye, it is,” he reassured her.
“I just wonder if our personal plans are worth making Hamish and Mairead so unhappy.”
“We are not doing this for just you, me, and Rab, but for everyone—including my brother and your sister.” Robert’s voice held no doubt. Neither did his eyes as they gazed up at her. Selah nodded and lay back down. “Twelve years ago Hamish may have believed he knew what was best for my happiness, but I was not a lad when he left and I sure as hell am not one now. I’ve had a lot of time to think and plan and design a solution to our family’s problem.” He caressed her cheek. “You know there is no one better at designing something and making it come to life.”
“True,” Selah acknowledged. Robert could see things as he wanted them to be and somehow make it transpire. But this was not mason work. This was people’s lives. And he was trying to help his older brother, who had no faith in him as a leader, negotiator, or tactician. “Hamish believes you are a fool.”
Robert chuckled. “That is fine. We can disagree. It changes nothing.”
“You stake much on your memory of Hamish. He has changed.”
“Time changes all of us, love, but we need not be worried that Hamish has changed in the way you fear. He has been living with the McTiernays.” He bent his head and kissed her hair. “Everyone is born with gifts. Your kindness gives comfort to even the most damaged soul. I create and build, and Hamish . . . he just has a way with people. Since we were young he always knew the right thing to do. He recognized when to come on strong and when to back off.
When to get involved and when to just stay out of things. It is only the emotions of what happened twelve years ago that prejudice his judgment. Soon he will be faced with a decision. He will know what he must do.”
“Why can you not announce how much you hate being laird? Just tell Hamish that it is his responsibility as it should have been and let him do what he wants with Ulrick and his army.”
“I wish it were that simple.” Robert squeezed her arm, in light admonishment. “For I would have done that long ago if that was all it took for Hamish to take over. But knowing my brother, he would refuse. And even if I am wrong and Hamish accepted the responsibility, he would always doubt himself and the reasons he was laird. Hamish may think other clans and power-seeking men are the ones to watch for, but from my experience, doubt is a leader’s biggest enemy. It eats away at you and cripples your ability to make decisions. That is why I cannot just give this responsibility to Hamish, for it is not mine to give. It is his. It always has been. He was a born leader and he was always meant to have this role. Hamish just needs a little more time to believe it for himself.”
Chapter Fifteen
Hamish stood looking out a window in the great hall, observing all the activity happening across the courtyard. Massive, long, thick logs of wood were coming into the courtyard and Robert was directing where they were going as well as ensuring nothing got smashed before they got there. One log teetered and Robert barked an order. Several men scattered into action as a result.
His brother was a different man when in his element. Unlike his actions as a laird, when working as a master mason, Robert had confidence and felt completely comfortable taking charge of those around him.
When he had come to Robert a week ago about building a protected path from the gate to the tower, he had been prepared for another argument. But Robert had just asked a couple of questions. Would there be a portcullis? No. Was Hamish asking to fortify the gate? Aye, the desire was there, but no, not if Robert did not wish it. All Hamish wanted was a protected path built out of stone that led from the gate to one of the main tower’s two entrances. It needed to be wide enough to allow a large group and strong enough that it would not crumble if struck repeatedly. The tower had been built for massive storage and both its doors were wide enough for carts to drive through. Those at Foinaven could still enter and leave without restriction, but the walls directed their path, enabling one to better control the flow of traffic and observe who was coming and going. Understanding that, and learning that Hamish had already seen to it that the rocks had been gathered and were waiting in large piles by the gate, Robert had readily agreed.
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