“We all understood?”
“Andrew, surely ye can’t think ye were alone in this?”
Andrew shook his head. “I guess I never realized. I’m sorry.”
“There is nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad that wee fireball ye’re marrying stood her ground on this. Heaven knows, no MacLeod would have done it.”
Andrew chuckled. “Aye, she’s bold and too hardheaded by half.”
“Have ye realized how fortunate ye are yet?”
“Fortunate? Nay, Graham. I’m not fortunate, but if I have to marry someone, she’s better than most.”
Graham sighed. “And ye have the nerve to call her hardheaded.”
Chapter 13
As Easter approached, Anna noticed the change in Andrew had a ripple effect across the clan. It was as if an invisible pall, one they hadn’t even realized enshrouded them, had been lifted. Davy was obviously ecstatic, and for that she was glad.
On the other hand, Anna herself had trouble coming to terms with the things Andrew had said about never loving anyone as he had loved Joan. Just as she hadn’t regretted pulling Davy from the frozen loch, she certainly did not regret pushing Andrew back into Davy’s life.
Andrew seemed fond of her at times, and Anna wasn’t sure why having his love suddenly mattered to her. An arranged marriage with no guarantee of love or even mild affection had always been in her future. When had she added love to her expectations?
She knew the answer to that. Eoin and Fiona were very much in love and Anna wanted that too. Maybe it’s the reason she had been so resistant when Eoin had been seeking a betrothal for her. In spite of it being a completely unrealistic expectation, it was becoming increasingly difficult to bear the realities of the loveless marriage that lay ahead of her.
During the Easter feast, she maintained as cheerful a front as she could, but in addition to everything else, she had never been away from home on a feast day and she missed her family desperately. The jubilation around her only made things worse. Andrew asked her to dance occasionally and she couldn’t easily refuse. She also danced one obligatory dance each with Dougal and Graham, but otherwise she tried to blend into the background and simply endure until she could excuse herself.
Eventually, while the celebration was still in full swing, Anna found her opportunity just as she finished a dance with Andrew.
“Anna, excuse me for a moment and I will find us some refreshment.”
“Oh, nay, thank ye, Andrew, none for me. I am tired and if ye don’t mind, I will say good night and seek my bed.”
“Don’t leave yet. It’s early.” Andrew grinned. “Even Davy is still holding his own.” Davy was indeed winding through the dancers, playing a chasing game with other children.
Anna smiled. “Aye he is, and he seems to be having a wonderful time, but I am truly exhausted.”
“I’ll walk with ye to yer chamber then.”
She put up a hand. “There is no need to. Stay and enjoy the fete. I’ll see ye in the morning.”
He cocked his head to one side, “If ye’re sure…”
“I’m sure. Good night Andrew.”
“Good night, angel.” He kissed her forehead before letting her go.
As she made her way up to her chamber her thoughts roamed to her first days here at Curacridhe, when her one goal had been simply to go home. At the time she had looked for any possible avenue out of the MacLeod stronghold, but escape was impossible because she had never been left unobserved. However at this moment, no one guarded her, the great hall and bailey were packed with merrymakers. Slipping out of the keep and through the gates amidst the crowd would be simple. Because she had accepted the betrothal, no one would be expecting her to leave, so if she truly wanted to escape, she would never have a better opportunity.
It was tempting. While Anna no longer hated the MacLeods, she still longed for her family and Naomh-dùn. Furthermore, the opportunity to avoid marriage to a man whose heart would never be hers was beyond enticing. With one quick turn of her heel she could be back down the stairs, out of the keep and on her way home.
Anna sighed wistfully. Aye, it was tempting, but it was also pointless. If she ran away now it would cause a terrible uproar and she would only have the solace of home briefly; the marriage was inevitable. Eoin would not break the agreement unless the MacLeods committed some grievous offence, which they certainly had not. Nay, nothing could be gained by running away. She needed to set silly dreams aside and fulfill her obligations as had always been expected of her. Resigned to her future, even if not terribly happy at the moment, Anna continued on to her bed chamber.
~ * ~
That Easter was the first great feast in which Andrew had truly participated in, in the years since losing Joan. Experiencing the celebration around him, particularly Davy’s uninhibited delight, unearthed wonderful, happy memories. Andrew experienced joy and real comfort in the connection he and Davy shared.
He also had quite relished dancing with Anna, and felt no small amount of disappointment as he watched her leave the feast early.
“Where is Anna going? Is something wrong?” his father asked.
“I don’t think so. She’s going to bed, she says she’s tired.”
Dougal frowned. “Are ye sure nothing’s wrong? She’s been a bit subdued recently. She hasn’t had a smart, cheeky thing to say to me in days.”
Before Andrew could respond, Mairi too approached. “Where’s Anna going?”
“She says she’s tired and going to bed.”
Mairi frowned.
“What’s wrong, Mairi? Do ye know something?” asked their father.
“Nay, Da. It’s just…well, I don’t think she’s tired. She doesn’t really get tired, at least not since she got better. She looked sad to me.”
“Sad?” Andrew hoped that wasn’t it.
“Why do ye think she’s sad?” asked Dougal
Mairi rolled her eyes. “Honestly have ye both forgotten? She’s away from home, away from her family. I bet she’s never been away from home on a feast day. I’d be sad if I wasn’t here with all of ye.”
Andrew scrubbed his face with his hands. “Dear God, Mairi, ye’re right.”
She put her fists on her hips. “Don’t sound so shocked.”
His father swore. “Aye, Mairi’s right and it never crossed my mind. She seems to have adjusted so well. Andrew, ye’ll take her to Naomh-dùn for Pentecost, or better yet Roodmas—it’s right after the wedding. We told her she could visit once ye were married.”
“Aye. I should go after her now and talk to her.”
“Nay, what ye should do is make sure she hasn’t left the keep,” said Mairi.
Andrew and his father stared at her with disbelief.
“Why do ye think that?” asked Dougal.
Mairi smiled triumphantly. “Because it is what I would do.”
“God’s bones.” Andrew worked his way through the crowded great hall and took the stairs two at a time. He needed to be sure she actually had gone to her chamber and sighed with relief when she called, “Who’s there?” in response to his knock.
“It’s Andrew.”
She opened the door. “Andrew, I said I was tired. I’m going to bed.”
“I know ye said that, angel, but I can’t help think something’s bothering ye. Mairi thought ye might be missing home.”
She smiled. “Aye, Mairi would think that.”
“Is she right?”
“I suppose she is.”
He took her hands in his. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it earlier. Ye know it won’t be long now until we’re married. Ye’ll see yer family then and we can visit Naomh-dùn for the Roodmas celebration there.”
“That will be nice Andrew. Thank ye.”
He dipped his head to look directly into her eyes. “That doesn’t really make it better, does it?”
She shook her head, giving a half-hearted chuckle. “Nay. I do appreciate yer concern, but ye needn’t worry, I’ll get o
ver it.”
She sounded…defeated, and it tore at his heart. He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry, angel. I wish I could make it better.”
She rested her head on his chest, but to his great disappointment, after only a moment, she took a deep breath and pulled away. “It’s all right. I’ll be fine. Really, I will. This is my home now. I’ll get used to it eventually, but it’s still all very new.”
Her unhappy tone belied her words, but he didn’t know what to say. “Ye’ve been so brave and so strong.” He caressed her cheek, wanting more than anything to hold her in his arms and kiss her until he banished the sorrow in her eyes. Dear God, where had that come from? Nay, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t.
Almost as if she sensed his inner conflict, she stepped back. “Andrew, I…I’m tired. I’ll feel better in the morning. Good night.”
She went into her chamber, closing the door on him.
He stood there listening, remembering how she had crumbled once before. This time, he heard nothing, so after a few moments he left, returning to the festivities.
As soon as he stepped into the great hall, Davy barreled toward him. Andrew grinned. His son glowed with happiness and youthful exuberance.
“Da, where’ve ye been? Where is Anna?”
He ruffled Davy’s hair. “Anna is tired and has gone to bed. I was just checking to make sure she was well.”
Davy frowned. “She never goes to bed before I do. She always tells me a story and tucks me in.”
“Does she?” Andrew wasn’t sure why that surprised him. Anna took excellent care of Davy. “Well, since she is a bit more tired than usual and ye are up a bit later than usual, I’ll see ye tucked in tonight.”
“Will ye really, Da?”
Davy looked as if Andrew had offered him a priceless treasure. He remembered Anna’s words from a few days ago. If things keep going as they are, someday he will stop seeking yer time and attention altogether and on that day ye will have lost a thing of great value. She had been right.
“Aye, son, I will. Are ye ready to go to bed now?”
“Can I just find Granda and Uncle Graham and say goodnight to them first?”
“Of course ye can. I’ll wait here for ye.”
When Davy returned a few minutes later, he put his hand in Andrew’s and they went up the stairs to the lad’s room. Davy removed his plaid, washed his face and hands and climbed into bed. “Will ye tell me a story, like Anna does?”
Andrew chuckled. “Aye, Davy. Is there one ye’d like to hear?”
“I like all stories. Tell me one ye like.”
“Hmm. Have ye ever heard of a trow?”
Davy nodded eagerly. “Aye. They are wee folk, like faeries.”
“Well this is a story about a trow and a poor widow named Mallie.”
Andrew proceeded to tell his son the story of the generous woman, who although she had only a handful of meal left to feed her children, shared it with a stranger in need—a tiny old man dressed all in gray.
When Andrew had finished the story, Davy smiled. “Anna would have done that. She would have helped the old man.”
“Aye, I suspect she would have.”
“I know she would have. I like that story.”
“I’ve always liked it too.” Andrew remembered how Joan would cuddle Davy on her lap and tell him stories even when he was too young to understand them. Mallie and the Trow was one of her favorites. It was a good memory.
“Ye look happy, Da.”
He smiled at his son. “Aye. I am happy. I was just remembering how yer mama loved to tell ye that story.”
“Did she? I don’t remember.”
“I expect ye don’t. Ye were very little when yer mama died.”
“Would she have done what Mallie did and give away her last bit of food to someone who needed it?”
“Aye, son, she would have.”
“Can ye tell me another memory before I go to sleep? What’s something else mama liked?”
Could he? Could he bear the pain of remembering? In truth, remembering how she told Davy stories hadn’t hurt at all. It filled him with warmth. “Aye Davy. Let me see…well, yer mama loved to go riding. Before ye were born, I tried to take her riding every day.”
“But ye didn’t after I was born?”
Andrew chuckled. “It’s a little harder to find time to go riding when ye have a wee bairn to care for, but aye, we still went riding when we could.”
“I like riding too.”
“I know ye do. Perhaps we can go tomorrow afternoon if the weather is fine.”
“I’d like that. Can Anna come too? I think it might make her happy.”
Andrew grinned at his thoughtful son. That was so like Joan as well. She took joy in pleasing others. “Aye, we’ll take Anna too, if she wishes to come.”
“I hope she does.”
As Davy said that, Andrew realized that he hoped she did too.
“Now, son, it is time for ye to go to sleep. Andrew kissed Davy on the forehead, and tucked the covers snuggly around him. “I’ll see ye in the morning.”
“And we’ll go riding if the weather is fine.”
Andrew chuckled. “Aye, son, if the weather is fine.”
~ * ~
When Andrew finally found his bed on Easter night, he prayed for fine weather the next day. To his consternation, when he woke in the morning, later than he normally did, it was to leaden skies and a steady rain, that promised to last through the day. He dressed and ventured down to the great hall. Graham and a rather sleepy looking Mairi sat at the table.
“Good morning, brother,” called Graham.
“Good morning. Where is everyone else? Have Davy and Anna not risen yet?”
Mairi yawned. “Anna and Davy were up ages ago.”
“And Da is taking his morning meal in his chamber,” added Graham. He grinned “Da always enjoys himself well at a feast. I expect he needs a bit of time to recover.”
Andrew laughed. “So where have Anna and Davy gone?”
“Perhaps her chamber?” suggested Graham.
“Nay, they’ve gone dragon hunting,” said Mairi.
Andrew’s heart caught. Davy was “dragon hunting” when he fell through the ice. “Surely they didn’t go out in this downpour.”
Mairi yawned again. “Nay. Anna wouldn’t allow that. Davy wanted to go dragon hunting down in the caves—that’s what he calls the storage rooms.”
Andrew frowned. “I’m not sure that’s a safe place.”
Graham shrugged. “I don’t see a problem with it. It is just a series of rooms filled with supplies. There isn’t even much in them this time of year. It seems like as good a place as any to hunt dragons.”
“I think I’ll just check on them anyway.” Andrew grabbed a bannock, eating it as he headed for the stairs. He hadn’t been down here since the day of the accident when he carried Anna, blue with cold, up from the dungeon.
As he reached the bottom, he heard his son’s voice say, “Stay back, Anna, this is a nasty one. Watch that he doesn’t get ye with his tail.”
Anna’s soft chuckle floated to him. “Aye, Davy. Don’t forget, aim for his eyes or his nostrils. That’s where they are most vulnerable, ye know.”
Andrew peeked around the edge of the doorway. A torch held in a wall sconce provided light for the intrepid warriors. Davy was whacking fiercely at his invisible foe, driving it ever back, closer to the end of the hallway.
“Nay! He is escaping into his lair. We need to follow and finish him off.” Davy headed for the stairs to the dungeon at the end of the hall.
“Nay, Davy,” came Anna’s panicked voice. “Ye can’t go down there. It’s dark.”
“Ye can hold the torch for me. He can’t get away from us now.”
“I said nay, Davy.”
His son must have heard the dread in Anna’s voice. He turned around. “Are ye afraid Anna? It’s not really a dragon’s lair. It’s just an old empty dungeon, but we won’t go down the
re if ye’re scared.”
“I don’t like it down there.”
“How do ye know, ye’ve never been down there, have ye?”
“I…I…just don’t like dungeons. Let’s go upstairs and I’ll tell ye a story about two dragons named Magni and Asgre.”
Andrew shook his head. Anna always managed to surprise him. Even after her awful experience, she chose to protect Davy from the truth of it. He took a step back calling, “Davy…Anna, are ye down here?” before stepping out into the corridor.
Davy rushed toward him. “Da!”
Andrew swung him up into his arms. “What are ye doing down here?”
“Anna and I were hunting dragons.”
Andrew glanced toward her. She looked slightly shaken. “I see. It’s very brave of her to come with ye, don’t ye think?”
Davy grinned and whispered, “They aren’t real dragons, Da.”
“I certainly hope not. If we had real dragons in the cellars they might eat all our food and drink our fine ale.”
Davy giggled. “Anna knows stories about dragons and now she’s going to tell me one.
Andrew looked at Anna again. “That sounds like a very good idea.” He offered Anna his free hand. “Come, Anna, let’s go back upstairs now that the great beast has been driven back.”
She nodded, taking his hand. He guided her in front of him, put Davy down and grabbed the torch from the wall to light their way back up the stairs. When they reached the top, Davy ran to the head table, where Graham still sat, and proceeded to tell him about the dragon hunt.
Anna started to follow but Andrew placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “Are ye all right?”
“Aye,” she answered a little too brightly.
He arched an eyebrow at his betrothed but said no more.
Chapter 14
On the Thursday after Easter, just before the evening meal was ready to be served, Andrew sat with his father and Graham, discussing which crops had already been planted and what was still needed, when Colin knocked on the solar door.
“Laird, Donald told me come and tell ye, a large party bearing the Chisholm banner approaches.”
Dougal grinned. “Thank ye, lad. Run and tell Dallis there will be more mouths at dinner, and then tell Brenda to ready rooms for Lady Ena and her family. After ye’ve done that, see if ye can find Mairi and tell her Ena’s here…oh and tell Davy too.”
Highland Angels Page 13