There wasn’t much space within the small, crudely built cottage, but it was clean and warm. There were three small children playing in the corner of the largest room, while a woman and an older girl who must have been her daughter ladled porridge out of a pot. The room was filled with peat smoke from the range, a loom dominating one corner, and a cradle sitting next to the table which the family had just set for dinner.
Kyla apologized for interrupting their meal, but the woman waved them in.
“Finlay!” the woman cried as she placed her bowl on the wood table and enveloped Finlay in an embrace. “How good of you to come. Sit, what can I get for you?”
“Nothing, Moira, but thank you,” he said. “I’m not sure if you’ve met my wife?”
Kyla smiled and nodded at the woman, who she had known through the years, though not particularly well. Moira was not much older than Kyla herself, yet had much more pronounced lines on her face and her eyes yearned for sleep. She had lived a hard life, and yet her smile signified all of the joy she held within her. It was admirable.
“How is the wee one?” Finlay asked.
“Oh, she’s doing quite well,” answered Moira with a warm smile. “We were afraid for a while there that we were going to lose her, but all was well in the end.”
Kyla recalled hearing of Moira and the trouble she had had during childbirth. Her husband worked many hours in the fields, and she was often alone with her children. Luckily the oldest was ten and often helped her mother care for the baby and the young ones.
As the baby began to squawk, Moira went over to the small cradle. She picked up the tiny bundle, bringing her over for them to see.
“She’s just so beautiful,” said Kyla breathily over the newborn, who was still pink and tiny, with fingers that curled around one of hers when she moved to stroke her face.
“Would you like to hold her?” Moira asked.
“I would absolutely love to,” said Kyla, and Moira handed her the baby. Kyla took her gently, cradling her against her chest.
“Her name is Stacy,” said Moira. “She was a miracle baby, she truly was.”
Kyla held the baby as the other children clamored for attention. She smiled and laughed with them, but didn’t want to put the baby back down. She felt too good in her arms. She closed her eyes in contentment at the warm little body cuddled against her chest. Stacy tucked her head under Kyla’s chin and fell fast asleep.
Finlay looked over at her and smiled before swooping down and lifting up the oldest boy, swinging him around the room to give him the thrills he was looking for. He soaked it up, squealing with delight. Of course, the second boy wanted the same treatment, and before long, he was tossing them all around the room, laughing at their antics.
Kyla opened her eyes to look over the head of the baby at Finlay and the children playing throughout the room. She kept her ear to Moira as she listened to the news of the day and all that was happening around the village.
She watched Finlay, his serious face dissolving into laughter, the children clutching onto his legs. As she smiled with him, a realization hit her as suddenly as if she had been punched in the stomach. She loved him. She loved this man and the possible future he could provide her. A home like this, with children and family around them. It was something she had never known, and never dreamed could be possible.
Finlay McDougall, the love of her life? She would never have guessed it, but here she sat, pining over him in both lust and love. Could he find room in his heart to love her back with equal measure? She hoped so, as she suddenly wanted nothing more. She could see a future with him, the chance to build a life.
She just didn’t know if she could live with him without such a love returned.
18
The next few weeks went by in relative peace. Finlay asked for her opinion now and again on clan business but didn’t move forward on any major decisions or changes to how he did anything within the clan. Kyla tried to have patience with Finlay’s acceptance of her as a business partner, as well as with any declaration of feelings toward her. She now spent most nights with him, though he never spoke a word of his feelings to her.
Nevertheless, Kyla enjoyed the McDougalls and maintained her spirits.
Kyla was humming a bright tune on a cool December day as she hung laundry on the line in the yard. She worked quickly as her fingers were numb in the cold air from the damp clothing, but the sun was bright and she smiled as she welcomed its warmth in her face.
Finlay and his brothers were out collecting rents. They had decided with recent disturbances at nearby holdings—including the MacTavishes—it was best they go together, not only for safety but also for added incentive for crofters to pay what was owed. They didn’t anticipate any trouble but it was best to be prepared.
Kyla’s tune was broken when she heard someone insistently calling her name. She looked up to see Hamid, her father’s man, riding into the yard looking for her.
“Kyla! Kyla MacTavish, you must come at once!” he shouted from some distance. “You are needed at home!”
She wiped her hands on her apron and wondered at the urgency as she crossed the yard to meet him. What could possibly be wrong? Was it her father, or her brother? She hurried to Hamid, fear pumping adrenaline through her.
“Hamid, whatever is the matter? Is Father all right?”
“Oh yes, child,” the man said, out of breath from the exertion he had spent on his journey here. “He is in Glasgow with your brother.”
“Then who is looking after everything?”
“Me and Campbell. Your father trusts him as well. We must get back,” he said hurriedly, glancing over at Peggy as she came out of the house to see what the commotion was.
“Take a moment and tell me what has happened.”
“We were collecting rents, but the people are still refusing to pay,” he told her. “Not only that, but they have gathered in front of your father’s home, and are demanding the chieftain come out himself to face them and not rely on his men. They say they are moving back to the land from where he moved them, whether he wishes it or not.”
“Why did Father and Rory both leave?” she said, lifting a hand to her head in frustration. “Could not one have stayed behind?”
Hamid cleared his throat and didn’t quite meet her eyes.
“It seems your brother had gotten himself into some sort of trouble while down there on his own,” he said, cringing as he did. “Something happened in one of those seedy money-betting establishments. Anyway, your father had to go bail him out.”
“Bail him out? You mean out of prison?” She was astonished. Rory had done some stupid things before, but never anything that went this far. Her father must have been furious. She heard a noise behind her and glanced back at Peggy, who seemed crushed. Kyla had little time to feel sorry for her sister-in-law, however.
“I believe so, lass,” Hamid replied. “I hope all is well for the lad, but for now we need you. You’re the only one I believe the people will listen to. You have to come quickly, as they’re getting fairly reckless, beginning to make trouble in the yard.”
“I’ll come right away, Hamid, but I must first find my husband.”
“No time for that. Ye must come now,” he urged her. “They won’t stand down until you arrive. Campbell and I will look after you, I promise you that.”
Kyla could hear the desperation in his voice. She told him he had to wait at least a couple of minutes, and she quickly conferred with Peggy. She explained the situation and asked her to find Finlay and tell him where she’d gone. If she couldn’t find him, at the very least tell Duncan. At first, Peggy begged to come with her, to see what the excitement was all about, but finally relented when Kyla told her the importance of her task. Peggy nodded and took off with bounding steps.
Kyla followed Hamid on horseback, trepidation building as they rode. She knew relations had soured, but this sounded extremely dire. That her family continued to leave things in the hands of someone unrelated
, as effective as he may be, just caused additional discontent.
She sighed. She wished she could continue to remain involved with the MacTavishes, even though she lived as a McDougall now—for the time being, anyway. They were nearly at the agreed upon three months, and she needed to talk to Finlay, to know if he had found any love in his heart for her. But how could she even raise such a question?
She raced after Hamid on horseback, surprised at his urgency as they pushed the horses to gallop down the very familiar path between the clan holdings. As they crested the hill above Darfield Keep, Kyla gasped at the site in front of her. Men—many of them men she had known since she was a child—were circled around the front door of the castle, banging their fists to be let in as they called for her father.
The castle was well enough fortified to keep them from entering, as it had been built in a time of frequent skirmishes and clan disputes. It was likely the first time in its history, however, it was defending against its very own people.
While they couldn’t get inside, the men were taking out their anger by destroying and disturbing anything they could get their hands on. Bales of hay, tools for farming, and carriage pieces went flying round the yard as the men demonstrated their displeasure with their clan leaders.
“It’s worse than I thought,” Hamid murmured to Kyla, reining in his horse. “They look like they might be getting violent, and there’s more of them now than there were when I left. I don’t even see Campbell. He must be inside already. Perhaps we best wait—Kyla? Kyla!”
Kyla didn’t have time to wait. The people below were destroying her family’s home, and anger was boiling her blood. She had to put a stop to this, and she had to do so now.
Most didn’t notice as she rode up, until she pushed her way past them to reach the steps leading into the home. When they saw it was her, they gave her space, although enraged faces leered up at her. She placed her hands on her hips and stared out at them. The entire experience was so utterly shameful. That it had come to this was ridiculous. She was ashamed of her father, of Rory, of the clan, and of herself for not doing more to better the situation.
“Where’s your father, beautiful?” came one call.
“Send him out!” said another.
“Quiet now and listen!” she raised her voice to be heard as she faced them, holding a hand in the air. “My father is dealing with urgent matters…”
“That the young prince Rory caused, most likely,” guffawed a man in the crowd.
“with urgent matters that have taken him to the south,” she continued. “He will return shortly but until that time I am representing him. We understand the concerns you have brought forward. But surely we can find a peaceful resolution that will satisfy all parties. I ask you to trust that I will do all I can to represent your interests if you will allow this to come to a satisfactory conclusion without violence. When my father returns, we will come together to determine the best course forward.”
She was met with silence. For a moment, anyway. It started with just one opposing voice.
“You are pretty to look at, Kyla MacTavish, but your words mean nothing to us anymore!”
“Your father ruined us, your brother is a useless twit, and there’s nothing your charms can do to change anything!”
“Go back to your new clan!”
Kyla was stunned. These were men she had known for years, and now they were treating her like an outsider. She tried to speak to them again, but before she could say anything, one of the men picked up a spoke from a broken cart wheel and threw it at her head. She dodged it, but now she was nervous as the others looked to be getting ideas.
Another threw an indiscriminate object, and pretty soon she was blocking and dodging one thing after another as bits of food and yard items came raining down.
The crowd of men was maddened now, and began to advance on her. Hamid called to her and raced up the stairs, pulling her back to the door. She followed him but then turned, remembering Cadarn. The horse was still standing to the side, tied to a tree, but she saw one of the men begin to approach her.
Kyla broke free of Hamid’s grasp and ran to Cadarn, taking the men by surprise as they expected her retreat instead. She was determined to reach Cadarn and ride back to the McDougalls’ rather than stay and hide here. She needed to get to Finlay—he would know what to do.
She mounted her horse and turned her to ride away, but took one look back at Darfield. As she did so, her eye saw the rock hurtling toward her at the very last second. She tried to dodge it, but it was too late. It struck her on the side of the head, and as all went black, she tumbled from the horse.
Finlay and his brothers were working in the fields when he caught sight of a figure riding up to them. It seemed Peggy was putting her new riding skills to use as she had pushed her horse into a gallop. As she drew closer, Finlay could hear her calling their names and his heart began to pound as he wondered what could be so urgent.
The three of them began to hurry toward her, and when she finally reached them, she was panting hard.
“What’s wrong, Peg?” Roderick asked.
“Where’s Kyla?” Finlay demanded at the same time.
“There’s an uprising at the MacTavishes,” Peggy gasped out. “Niall’s man, Hamid, came to ask Kyla to come talk sense into the clan. Her father and Rory are in Glasgow. She asked that you come as soon as you can.”
It was all Finlay needed to hear before he tossed the shovel to the side and ran to Hurley, who was tied to a nearby fencepost. He mounted and urged his horse forward, racing away with his brothers close behind him. They yelled at Peggy to go home, but she would have none of it. “Not on your life,” she responded, chasing after them.
Finlay’s stomach churned as they thundered toward the MacTavish lands. What had Kyla been thinking? Why couldn’t she have waited for him? It seemed like ages before they finally rode down the hill to Darfield. The clan was gathered in the courtyard, looking menacing as they advanced on Kyla and Hamid, who was scrambling to open the door as he seemed to be attempting to shield Kyla with his body at the same time.
Suddenly Kyla turned from the door and looked to her horse. “No, Kyla, no!” Finlay shouted from the distance, but was too far to do anything or for her to even hear him. All he could do was watch in agony as she ran toward her horse. He breathed a sigh of relief as she managed to mount Cadarn without any difficulty.
“Ride like the wind, then,” he said, praying she would escape the crowd quickly.
Then he saw the man pick up a rock and take aim. Finlay yelled out her name helplessly as the rock flew toward her head. Time slowed as he watched it strike her, and he felt a sickening madness within him as she tumbled from the horse to the ground.
Roderick and Adam, who had convinced Peggy to stay behind and watch from the hill, followed their brother closely as they rode through the assembled men, breaking up the pack. A few loyal MacTavishes finally emerged from the house, and together they managed to take the leaders to the ground. A few scuffles broke out but were quickly resolved.
There were some brutes among the MacTavish men, but none as big as the McDougalls.
Finlay ignored all of them. His only thought was for Kyla, as he rushed to her side and picked her up gently, cradling her in his arms.
She was so limp, so still, that for a moment everything occurring around him seemed to stop. It was as if his heart and soul had exited his body and were hovering overhead, looking down as he held her. He put his fingers to her wrist, the whole world going still until he felt the faint beat of her pulse beneath his fingertips.
The breath he didn’t realize he had been holding released in a whoosh from his body, and he held her desperately close to him. He had always loved her, but he realized that what he thought had been love for so long was more of an infatuation. Now, he loved her mind, body, and soul. If anything happened to her, he didn’t know how he could go on living without her.
It took him a moment to realize his brother
s had joined him, and were trying to capture his attention. They brought him back to the moment, and he saw the yard was littered in destruction, but the men, for the most part, had cleared away.
“Let’s get her home, Fin, where Mother can help,” said Adam gently, as they helped him onto his horse, lifting Kyla up into his arms. He gently held her as he urged his horse forward at a slow pace, not wanting to overly jostle her.
Roderick left them to summon the nearby healer. Their mother could treat most ailments, but this was something that would likely be beyond her. Peggy, for once, said nothing, while Adam led Cadarn home, a steady, silent presence at Finlay’s side.
19
Finlay paced around Kyla’s bedroom as the healer tended to her, doing a thorough review. The man looked at her head wound, in addition to holding back her lids to peer at her eyes, followed by a look into her nose, her ears, and listening to the breath in her chest. It was shallow, but present. They called him a physician, though no one was quite sure of where he learned his skills. He had always, however, been fairly competent, so they continued to call upon him just the same.
No one, however, was currently good enough for Finlay. He wanted answers. And he wanted them now.
But he also knew that rushing things wasn’t going to help anyone, most especially Kyla, so for once he forced himself to be patient.
The physician finally turned to Finlay with worry in his eyes.
“There is nothing to be treated,” he said, raising his hands at his sides helplessly. “I cannot tell the extent of her head injury until she awakens, if she ever does. I’m uncertain what type of damage has been done. See if you can get some water down her throat, but ensure she doesn’t choke. Otherwise the best thing for you to do now, son, is pray.”
Finlay’s heart seemed to stop, and he forced himself to swallow the huge lump that had formed in his throat.
“Can— can she hear me if I speak to her?”
Finlay's Duty: A Scottish Victorian Romance (The Victorian Highlanders Book 2) Page 13