“Ye ken Angus led a raid on the Grants nae long after ye and Maude came here. As ma uncle’s heir and tánaiste, Angus refused to remain at the keep while we planned our response to the last raid. He rode out with far too few men. The others returned with cattle and Angus’s body thrown over a saddle. I was there and watched ma foolish cousin try to attack Laird Grant. He never saw Fingal coming until he looked down to see the blade through his gut. After Angus died, David became Uncle Farlane’s heir. I ken Lachlan heard aboot the next battle. Did ye?”
Blair shook her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she witnessed a haunting grief overtake Hardi’s eyes. She felt his sorrow as though it had taken residence in her own soul. It was her turn to reach out and take his hands. Hardi swallowed several times before he was ready to recount the bloodiest battle he’d ever fought. He still had nightmares as he watched one Cameron after another perish.
“Once the Clan Chattan Confederation unified, each clan believed themselves unstoppable. Try as ma uncle might to avoid more fights with the Mackintoshes, they challenged us, and we couldnae refuse. Uncle Farlane sent thirty men to fight trial by combat against thirty Mackintoshes.” Hardi swallowed the gorge that rose in his throat, closing his eyes against the images that danced before them. Blair couldn’t bear the pain she saw her friend suffer. She moved to sit on the arm of Hardi’s chair. She leaned against him as she lifted his hands into her lap, encouraging him to continue. “David, Peter, and Seamus died that day.”
Blair gasped when she heard Hardi name his three cousins, the last men standing between him and his clan’s lairdship. In the space of one battle, he’d become tánaiste when he hadn’t even been anyone’s second or captain of any guard.
“When?” Blair croaked.
“Two moons ago,” Hardi whispered. He feared he would break down and cry if he spoke any louder. Blair’s compassion nearly overwhelmed him, urging him to lay his heart bare rather than bolstering his courage.
“You said you became laird a moon ago. What happened to your uncle?” Blair glanced at Lachlan to see if she’d erred in asking. Her brother’s face was etched with his own grief, but he shrugged, unknowing how Hardi would respond.
“A sickness swept through the clan, and I believe grief had already weakened him. Ma father died years ago, then his nephew, then his sons. He didna have the strength to carry on after losing nearly everyone. He lived long enough to instruct me on some basics of being laird, but nae nearly enough.” Hardi shrugged. “I dealt with the most urgent of clan matters as best I could, but the king ordered me to appear before him rather than send a delegate to pay our taxes. I dinna think this is the best time to leave ma clan, but what could I do? The king summons, ye come.”
Blair and Lachlan exchanged a look that expressed thoughts they couldn’t speak aloud. Lachlan shook his head, but Blair understood how hard it was for Lachlan to admit he couldn’t stay in Stirling to help Hardi. Blair knew Lachlan wanted to, but he had his own duties to their clan. She thought it best that they steer away from discussing the source of their grief when Hardi took a rasping breath, and she knew he was on the verge of breaking down.
“You must be starving. The nooning will be soon. I’m sure Lachlan can help you find a chamber, then you both can join me in the Great Hall,” Blair suggested.
Hardi’s grateful expression tore once more at Blair’s heart. They both knew she was trying to distract him, and while she wasn’t successful, he appreciated her attempt. The men walked Blair to the passageway that contained the ladies-in-waiting chambers. As she scrubbed her face and neck, she considered what aid she could offer her friend, since she knew Lachlan was set to depart in two days. That wouldn’t be nearly enough time for Lachlan to impart all the wisdom it had taken their father a lifetime to teach him.
Four
“I wish I could remain here longer now that you’ve just arrived,” Lachlan looked over his shoulder at Hardi as both men prepared to don fresh leines. There was a second bed in Lachlan’s chamber that was unoccupied, so he decided Hardi could share his chamber, and they would deal with any grumbling about his presumptuousness later. “I ken Mama and Da will leave soon to visit Maude and her family on the Isle of Lewis, but they won’t go until I return. They will chomp at the bit to get there. Maude’s just had a third bairn, and I ken Mama would have preferred to be with Maude but couldn’t leave.”
“I understand. How is Maude?” Hardi was glad to discuss someone else’s family rather than his own, even if he knew he would never be an uncle. That opportunity perished alongside his brother. “Is she happy with Kieran? I dinna ken much aboot him.”
“Blissfully. It’s disgusting,” Lachlan grimaced.
“Come now. If I recall, ye dinna think kissing—and all that comes after—is as horrible as ye once did,” Hardi teased.
“It is when it’s my wee sister.”
Hardi chuckled at Lachlan’s disgusted face. He and Lachlan used to sneak out to the village tavern together as they entered their manhood. They’d been in the same chamber when they each tupped their first wench. As Hardi reflected upon that, it was his turn to grimace. He chalked it up to youth, but he would never share a chamber with another couple while being intimate with a woman.
“Remembering, aren’t you? I don’t care for an audience anymore either.” Lachlan grinned. “I wouldn’t want to be a distraction to another mon’s woman.”
“Aye, all that fumbling is distracting,” Hardi snorted.
“Don’t confuse the two of us. I ken very well where all the parts go.” Lachlan smirked.
“I’ll believe you, thousands wouldnae.” Hardi broke out into a deep laugh as Lachlan flung the wet washing linen at his friend. “Shall we go? Ma stomach is ready to eat the rest of me alive. Will Blair really be able to join us? Doesnae she have duties?”
“Aye, she does, but she’s able to share the nooning with me, even if she has to sit with the other ladies for the evening meal,” Lachlan explained. He was grateful for the time he spent with Blair. He didn’t look forward to leaving her behind; he dreaded knowing his younger sister would be alone at court. It had been hard enough for Lachlan and his father to leave both sisters at court, but knowing Blair was without Maude made his stomach churn. He’d made her swear countless times that she would never enter any passageway or chamber alone. He knew inevitably she walked places without a companion, but he also knew she wasn’t foolish enough to enter a room without another woman or a guard to accompany her.
“When do you leave?” Hardi brought them back to their original conversation.
“In two days’ time. I hate leaving Blair behind, but I detest being at court,” Lachlan grumbled.
“Blair seems happy here,” Hardi observed.
“Nay. She’s happy to see us, and she can manage here, but she isn’t happy per se.”
“Per se?” Hardi asked softly.
Lachlan darted a look at Hardi and wanted to kick himself. He’d forgotten that Hardi hadn’t had Latin drilled into him like most laird’s heirs. He hadn’t been an heir until two months ago. While they fostered with the Sutherlands, Hardwin and Dougal’s father refused to allow the boys to join Lachlan in his studies. Hamish and Amelia Sutherland insisted that Lachlan sit still and listen, while his sisters were model pupils. Maude and Blair had run circles around him while their tutor—a priest, no less—struggled to maintain his patience with Lachlan. But despite Lachlan’s disinterest, he’d learned to read and write Latin and to read, write, and speak French. He’d grown up speaking Gaelic and Scots, though he disliked having to speak the latter. He prided himself on being a Highlander. He opted for French when he could at court. He’d also learned sums and figures, which were among the most necessary skills for a laird.
“It means ‘in itself,’ but it can be used to mean per—. Well, it means ‘not exactly’.” Lachlan stumbled to explain. He watched Hardi nod, and his reflective expression told Lachlan he tucked away the new phrase to recall or even use at anoth
er time. He switched back to discussing Blair, hoping he wouldn’t remind his friend again of the skills he lacked. “She makes do here. She and Arabella Johnstone are close. Arabella was Maude’s friend before she left court, and Blair moved into Arabella’s chamber once Maude left. She’s friendly with the other ladies, but she mentioned to me the other eve that there aren’t many ladies left that were here when she arrived.”
“They’ve all married?” Hardi opened their chamber door.
“Aye. She feels a bit left behind, and she doesn’t care for all the politics that goes along with life here. She’d rather be back in the Highlands, but when your godmother invites you to serve her, you can’t refuse.” It was a little-known fact, but King Robert and Queen Elizabeth were the Sutherland siblings’ godparents; they were also godparents to their Sinclair cousins. Hardi knew from the royal visits to Dunrobin while he lived there for six years.
“Does she want to be at Dunrobin in particular? She’s of an age to marry. I’m surprised she isn’t already.” Hardi considered the beautiful young woman who greeted him in the bailey. It surprised him to think that Blair hadn’t married years ago. She was attractive, friendly, and well-trained to be the chatelaine of a large keep.
“She would happily return home, but nay, not Dunrobin in particular. She just won’t consider a Lowlander.”
“Would ye?” Hardi pretended to shiver. “I wouldnae want a little mon climbing into ma bed if I were her.”
“That’s my sister.” Lachlan playfully punched his friend in the shoulder, but he put a little strength into it to remind Hardi there was no humor in hearing someone discuss a man bedding Blair. Hardi threw his hands up in defeat.
“So why hasnae she married?” Hardi continued to wonder how Blair had remained at court for several years without a proposal.
“She’s turned down the offers made. They were Lowlanders—and it’s because she doesn’t want a life near the border, not that they’re weak—or she doesn’t like the mon who asks. She has expectations that only a Sutherland or Sinclair could meet, and none of us can marry her.”
“Still think the sun shines out of yer arse, I see,” Hardi smirked. “There must be someone she’d be willing to marry.”
“There’s bound to be. She just hasn’t met him yet.” Lachlan shot Hardi a warning glance as they entered the Great Hall, and Blair approached. Lachlan noticed she’d been standing with Arabella and Laurel, but excused herself when she spotted her brother and friend entering.
“Where are your men?” Blair asked Hardi, and he pointed to a table where the Sutherland and Cameron guards already sat together. Without any thought, he offered Blair his arm and escorted her to the table. Neither saw the speculative expression on Lachlan’s face as he watched one of his closest friends whisper something to his younger sister.
Five
Blair swallowed her tears as she watched Lachlan ride through the castle gates. She’d enjoyed the past two days more than any she could remember since Maude married. While the men were in the lists in the morning, Blair joined the queen on her morning constitutional and in her solar. After the noon meal, she, Lachlan, and Hardi went for rides and practiced their archery both afternoons. The queen had granted her permission to sit with Lachlan and Hardi for both evening meals, since she knew Lachlan would leave soon. While not openly expressive, Queen Elizabeth was a kind godmother, and Blair suspected she still felt guilty about not intervening on Maude’s behalf when some of the other ladies taunted and bullied her.
Now that Lachlan departed, Blair wouldn’t be able to spend much time with Hardi since she was a maiden. She understood Hardi would have several meetings with the king before he left, as well. She was prepared to say goodbye to Hardi and return to the queen’s solar when he silently looped her arm around his and guided her toward the gardens. They walked into the topiary maze where they were hidden from sight before Hardi pulled Blair against his chest and rubbed her back as she sobbed.
Blair didn’t know how Hardi understood this was what she needed, but she appreciated that he did. Loneliness that had abated while Lachlan visited threatened to drown her, and Hardi felt like the only buoy in a rough sea. His height and broad shoulders made him feel colossal compared to her, but she drew comfort from the difference in size. As his arms remained around her, it was as though a wall encased her, protecting her from the world around her. If given the opportunity, she might have stayed that way forever rather than returning to the reality of courtly life.
When her sobs subsided, she drew away and reached into her sleeve for a handkerchief, but Hardi offered a corner of the swath of plaid draped over his shoulder. The softly worn wool was the comfort she needed, reminding her that her home was in the Highlands, and life at court was but a temporary detour. She dabbed at the tears that continued to trickle down her cheeks even though her breathing was back under control. Hardi tucked hair behind Blair’s ears before tilting her chin up.
“Do ye recall what I would tell ye when ye were too wee to join Lachlan and me when we left the keep?”
“Of course. Ye’d say that I wasna being left behind. I made ye look forward to returning. But Lachlan doesnae look forward to coming to court. He dislikes being here.”
“Aye. But he always looks forward to seeing ye. He doesnae like leaving ye here any more than ye like watching him ride away. If he werenae riding with his men, he’d be sobbing too.” Hardi’s smile was so warm that it reassured Blair, and she nodded. “It’s nae that men dinna want to cry. It’s that we arenae allowed to.”
Blair gazed into tired blue-hazel eyes, and she felt guilty for her display of emotions when she considered that her parting from Lachlan was temporary. The men who’d left Hardi’s life would never return. She was embarrassed to have made such a scene and didn’t know where to look.
“Wheest,” Hardi whispered. “Dinna feel guilty for being sad that yer brother isnae here. Ye can be upset for yer loss, and it doesnae mean yer arenae sympathetic to mine. I canna imagine what life is like for ye here. At least at home, I have ma clan. I’ve kenned them ma entire life.”
“Thank ye,” Blair whispered, not noticing she’d slipped back into her own brogue as she listened to Hardi comfort her. “It is hard to be here without Maude. And watching Lachlan leave reminds me how much I dinna want to be here anymore. It was exciting at first. So much to see, so many people to meet. But life here is nae what I hoped.”
Hardi guided them to a bench and sat beside Blair. He’d intended to keep an appropriate distance between them, but she looked so deflated and tiny that his heart ached. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. She leaned her head on his shoulder just as she had when they were younger. “What did ye hope for?”
“To have genuine friendships with the other ladies. I’m friendly with them all, but Arabella is the only one here who I trust. The others have left and married. I’d hoped I would find someone to marry since Mama and Da promise none of us will have an arranged marriage. Ma time here has dragged on, but I havenae met a single mon I would want to marry. The men who come here from the Highlands are never here long enough for me to get to ken them, and I dinna blame them for nae wanting to dillydally here.”
They sat in silence for a moment while Blair once again struggled to stem her tears.
“There are foreign delegates, but I dinna want to leave Scotland,” Blair continued. “That leaves those who choose to be lifelong courtiers. I refuse to imagine spending the rest of ma life here. I dinna want a mon who is always grasping for the next pouch of coin or the next position to get closer to the king. Every eve when a courtier asks me to dance, I’m glad that nay one here kens I’m the king and queen’s goddaughter. I wouldnae be able to keep the leeches off me if people learned of that connection.”
Blair sighed, once again embarrassed, but this time it was because she felt as though she’d spoken for too long. It didn’t feel right to unburden her feelings to Hardi when her troubles were so insignificant
compared to his.
“Dinna do that, Blair,” Hardi murmured against her hair. She pulled away; her brow furrowed as she looked at him. “I ken ye have more to say. But I can also ken ye’re feeling guilty again for telling me what upsets ye. Ye think yer problems arenae important compared to mine.”
“How do ye ken?”
“Because I’ve kenned ye since I was ten summers, and ye were seven summers.” Hardi shrugged as though that explained everything. But at Blair's confused expression, he continued to explain. “After ye sighed, I felt ye tense. It was only slightly, but it was there. Then ye tucked yer chin as if to hide from me. Ye still havenae relaxed.”
Blair realized he was right. Her body was taut, and her eyebrows pinched together. It shocked her that Hardi could read such slight mannerisms and understand what they meant. But she and Hardi had spent a great deal of time together when they were children. Lachlan and their cousin Michael were practically inseparable until Michael left to become a priest. When they became adolescents, Lachlan and Michael had been among the group of boys who teased Maude about her weight. When their sister collapsed on the stairs from not eating, it was Lachlan who’d caught her. After that, Lachlan and Michael had been fiercely protective of Maude, getting into more than one fight when the other boys didn’t cease their taunting.
Hardi and Dougal had stayed away from the fracas, knowing they weren’t members of the clan and Laird Sutherland could send them home if they displeased him. When trouble began in the lists or bailey, Dougal and Hardi would slip into the keep and keep out of sight. They weren’t afraid to fight, and they were drawn in more than once to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Lachlan and Michael, but they preferred not to draw attention to themselves.
A Saint at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Six Page 3