Highland Pride

by Dana D'Angelo

  “I concede that the fae might nae exist,” she said. “But ye likely dinnae ken anything about love.”

  “He disnae,” Iagan agreed. “With two dead wives, what can ye expect?”

  Kila looked shocked at hearing his cousin’s unexpected comment. William realized what people said behind his back, but not many discussed his previous wives in the open.

  “Perhaps I dinnae ken much about the topic,” William said carefully.

  “Actually, perhaps nae many understand love,” Kila cut in quickly. Somehow, she was attuned to the tension in the air and seemed to want to avoid any potential conflicts.

  “Well, I love my claymore,” Ewan said. At his quip, laughter echoed in the room and drove away any lingering awkwardness.

  “Ye ken what I mean,” she said, pretending to be affronted, but William saw that she sent her brother an appreciative smile.

  “I suppose poetry is similar tae a story,” William said.

  “That’s right,” she said, following his lead. “Poems do tell stories. I just prefer the ones that emphasize the beauty of love above all else.”

  ***

  Kila was about to pass the great hall when she saw Fearghas conversing with another servant that she recognized.

  As soon as her friend finished with his colleague, Kila wanted to question him more about the region. When she drew closer to the pair, Fearghas’s words floated over to her.

  “The MacTyrnell wants someone tae bring his dinner tae the stables,” he said. “I need ye tae take this basket of food there, Magy.”

  “Can ye nae find someone else tae do the task?” the woman asked tightly. “Send Jeene. I still have many chores tae do, and I promised my grandson that I’ll be home soon.”

  “I would go myself, but I need tae supervise the inventory. As it stands, ye are the only reliable servant available,” Fearghas said. “If I send Jeene, she’ll likely trip on the way there and get lost.”

  “I’ll go and deliver the meal,” Kila said, interrupting them. She recalled that William wasn’t present at the midmorning meal.

  The two servants turned to look at her. They appeared shocked at seeing her there.

  But Magy recovered quickly. “Guid,” she said, blowing out a sigh of relief. She sent Kila a tentative smile. “Now we have a volunteer. Thank ye for doing this, mistress. I have tae go finish my chores, and then I need tae check on my laddie.”

  Then without another word, she hurried down the hall.

  “Ye are our guest, nae a servant,” Fearghas said, frowning. “I cannae agree tae this.”

  “’Tis nae a difficult task,” she said, taking the basket from him. “I’ll deliver the meal and return tae the castle. I dinnae have much tae do, and I’m certain that ye can use my help.”

  “Thank ye. Ye are a godsend,” Fearghas said, looking at her with wonder.

  “Is Magy’s grandson still ill?” she asked casually, changing the topic.

  “Aye, as I understand it, he’s recovering.”

  “I met her in the village,” she said. “She was there tae find a remedy for him.”

  “That’s right,” Fearghas nodded. “She told me that ye bought her the medicinal plants. As far as I ken, the remedy she made is working, although she’s still anxious about the lad.”

  ***

  Kila blinked as her eyes adjusted to the bright morning light. It was only when she was outside that she realized how much she missed the fresh air. The colors outside were much more vibrant, and she liked watching the whirl of activity in the courtyard. She wasn’t certain why the women liked to be closed off in the solar for so many hours. But as she was about to reach the stable, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of manure and old hay. All of a sudden, the thought of being outside seemed less appealing.

  But she promised to deliver the meal, and that was what she intended to do. She followed the voices inside the stables and found William and the stablemaster observing a horse that was writhing on the ground. Along the stallion’s rump were areas of broken, bleeding skin.

  “Do ye ken what is wrong with it?” she asked.

  William looked up, surprised at hearing her voice. “Nay, that’s what we’re trying tae determine.” His brows furrowed. “Did ye need something?”

  She shook her head. “The servants were busy, sae I volunteered tae bring ye some food.”

  “I can use some food.” William let out a tired sigh. He indicated for the groom to take a break. “This mount has contracted a sickness, but we dinnae ken how tae treat it.”

  The two men walked to where a bucket of water sat. Taking turns, one person tipped the container while the other washed his hands in the water. When they came back, she noticed their grim faces were also pinched with worry.

  Kila offered them the contents of the basket. The stablemaster took his share and left them.

  The stallion had gotten up and began to rub its body along the wall, attempting to relieve its itch.

  William looked exhausted. And a sense of guilt overtook her. Since she arrived at his home, she hadn’t done much to help him. At the rate she was going, she would have to declare defeat, and acknowledge that she possessed no expertise in castle affairs.

  “I realize that I havenae done much tae demonstrate my management skills,” she said. “Why didnae ye say something?”

  “Perhaps ye wanted tae show that I was right,” he said, his tone slightly mocking.

  His answer put her on the defensive, but she knew William spoke an inkling of truth. Thus far, she hadn’t shown much authority or influence. If this was the case, then she wasn’t fit to marry anyone. Fortunately, there was one thing that she understood well, and that was horses. Her brother Griogair handled the beasts all the time, and he taught her many things about caring for them.

  “May I take a look?” she asked, indicating the sick horse. She felt awful watching it frantically rub against objects, attempting to relieve itself from the skin irritation.

  “If ye like,” he said, although he sounded doubtful. “I dinnae ken what ye can do. It appears quite miserable, and we confined it tae this side of the stable. Right now, we cannae afford tae have the other mounts get infected by the disease.”

  Kila walked closer to the steed. It was now back on the ground, squirming in order to gain relief. The mount’s frantic movements prevented her from getting too close, but she had seen enough.

  “I believe it’s suffering from midge bites,” she said. “I’ve watched my brother treat this condition before.”

  “The other mounts get bitten, and they seem fine,” he said, frowning.

  “Nae all mounts are affected by the insects, but clearly this one is.”

  “What is tae be done?”

  “The midges are most abundant during dawn and dusk, sae if ye keep the steed in the stable during those times, ye can protect it from more bites.” She placed a finger on her chin, trying to remember what else Griogair did to heal sensitive horses. Then it came to her. “A comfrey poultice will greatly decrease its agony,” she added.

  William called for the stablemaster to return. He then commanded the man to get the herb and immediately prepare the herbal salve.

  An hour later, she helped apply the ointment to the animal’s skin. And as the medicine began to take its effects, the beast no longer felt a need to thrash on the ground. The stablemaster went to see if the other horses weren’t affected by a similar condition.

  William went to sit on a bundle of hay, and Kila sat down next to him. She was tired, although she felt happy that she could assist in alleviating the beast’s suffering.

  They fell into an easy silence. She had never spent much time with William, but she found that she was comfortable around him.

  “Ye should be careful with my cousin,” William said abruptly.

  His sudden warning upset her. “Why are ye sae critical of your cousin?” she asked, immediately coming to Iagan’s defense. “From what I see, he only wants what is best for the clan.”
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  But she believed she already knew the answer. William was jealous of his cousin.

  “If Iagan wanted that then he should be more effective in the tasks I assign him.”

  Kila stared at him, feeling a rush of anger rise to her chest. “Ye are verra judgmental. In fact, at Tancraig Castle ye dismissed me even though ye dinnae ken anything about me, or what I’m capable of.”

  “Ye are judgmental yourself,” he said. “Here ye are speaking about things ye have nay understanding.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him that she already observed what was going on. And the treatment of his cousin wasn’t helping with the clan government. As an outsider, she saw this clearly. But something held her back from voicing her opinions. A simmering annoyance existed in him. The moment of truce would be completely gone if she didn’t change the direction of this discussion. She searched her mind for a different topic.

  “How is your daughter?” she asked.

  He silently considered her question. Finally, he admitted, “I dinnae ken what tae do with her. She willnae talk tae me.”

  The anger in her subsided, and at hearing the anguish in his voice, she softened toward him. She recognized his vulnerability and instinctively realized that he rarely showed this side of himself. From watching him interact with his daughter, she saw that he had affection for her, but he didn’t know how to relate to her. After all, he was a big warrior who knew only about fighting and championing his people. Yet somehow he had little understanding about how to handle a wee lass.

  Kila reached over and touched his hand. The gentle pressure seemed to momentarily confound him.

  “She’s young and will come around,” she said gently.

  When their gazes locked, she felt something subtle move between them. Until this moment, Kila hadn’t realized how appealing he looked. His wavy brown hair fell over his masculine face. Dark stubble grew on his square jaw. Everything about him was manly, strong. His gray eyes flicked down to her lips and snapped back to look into her depths once more. This time she saw a question reflected there.

  Intuitively she understood what he desired. And in response, she swayed forward, meeting him halfway as he leaned closer to capture her lips. When they touched, she felt a spark ignite, and the startling energy zipped through her body. As she sank deeper into the enchantment he wove around her, his hands closed on her upper arms. He started to pull her closer still.

  A cough sounded behind them, and she jumped back. Heat rose to her cheeks as she noticed the groom standing there. The man waited, rocking on his heels as his gaze locked on to the ceiling.

  William released her, and she stood up.

  “I should go back tae the main tower,” Kila said quickly.

  When she had entered the stables, she had a neutral opinion of the clan chief, but she was now leaving with a head full of questions. For a man she considered unfeeling, she felt a lot of passion in his kiss. In fact, she didn’t want him to stop. She also had many assumptions about William, but they no longer rang true. Was it possible that she was mistaken about him all this time?

  Chapter 14

  Kila made her way to the solar, knowing that she faced another morning of mundane gossip. There was nothing much that happened in the small chamber.

  But today seemed different. She felt different. Kila touched her lips, still feeling the tingle that lingered there. A day had passed yet the kiss she shared with William was still on her mind. It was incredible, she remembered. When she left the stables yesterday, she almost floated back to the castle.

  And even now as she recalled every last detail of the incident, she was ashamed to admit that she desired more. She had only volunteered to bring dinner to William. She didn’t expect that one simple kiss could affect her so much. At that moment, she had lost her sense of time and space. And for the first time, she felt that she and William were the only ones in the world.

  Up ahead, Kila saw Isabel. She guessed that the lass also headed in the same direction.

  “Isabel,” she called, “wait for me.”

  The lass stopped, and when she saw her, she broke out in a wide grin. Since the time Kila arrived at this stronghold, Isabel’s attitude toward her had changed. It helped that the girl had an apt interest in hearing stories about the fae. She was still a quiet child, but she was starting to open up to her.

  “’Tis sae pleasant today,” Kila said. “I dinnae want tae be trapped in the solar doing needlework. I think I’ll spend some time outdoors.”

  “But where would ye go?” Isabel asked, her expression perplexed.

  “Out into the courtyard,” she said. “Would ye like tae go with me?”

  Caution and hope warred on her young face.

  Kila let out a laugh. “’Tis nae as if I’m asking ye tae walk tae the gallows.”

  “I ken. But Grandmother disnae think I should spend too much time in the courtyard,” she said wistfully. “She says ‘tis dirty, and I might catch some disease. My mother used tae spend a lot of time wandering outside, ye ken, and that was why she got sick. ‘Twas because the air that killed her.” She swallowed. “That, and because of me.”

  “That cannae be true,” she said, astonished. “If it was, then a lot more folks would be falling sick. Even your father would be deathly ill since he spends much of his time riding throughout the territory.”

  The doubt that was reflected on Isabel’s face slowly diminished. And when Kila spoke of William, understanding lit her eyes. She fell into step with her. “Do ye ken any more stories?” she asked.

  “I have many stories,” she said. “What do ye want tae hear?”

  “Tell me about the water faeries,” she said eagerly.

  Kila was happy to oblige her. As she was describing the water spirits, she heard a curious hum coming from near the great hall.

  “What is that noise?” she asked.

  It was the distinct murmuring of a large number of people. But it was strange since as far as she could remember, no one spoke about having a gathering at the castle.

  “’Tis just the clan members,” Isabel said. “Where do the water faeries live?”

  “They live beneath the lochs and burns,” she said absently.

  Kila’s puzzlement grew when they turned the corner. There, she observed an extensive lineup of villagers.

  “I wonder why there are sae many people here,” she mused.

  Isabel glanced at the crowd. “They are here tae see Da,” she said. “They come tae talk with him, but I dinnae ken what they discuss.”

  Clearly, they weren’t here to offer praise to their chief. The expressions on the various clan members ranged from exhaustion to anger. The long wait seemed to justify their grumpiness. And with the castle doors open to let in the summer heat, it was uncomfortably warm in the hallway.

  A guard stopped a woman with a screaming infant. “Go tae the end of the line,” he said gruffly.

  The woman appeared as if she was ready to collapse. “But I need tae get in the Great Hall,” she said.

  “Wait your turn like everyone else,” someone shouted from the line.

  Fearghas stood in the hallway, his legs apart. He waved his hands, directing the congestion. Kila was about to pass him when curiosity took hold of her.

  “Fearghas.” She reached over and tapped his arm.

  He looked annoyed and was about to snap at her but then he recognized her.

  “Och, ‘tis ye, mistress,” he said.

  “Can ye tell me what is going on here?” she asked, nodding to the line of people.

  “These folks have come tae make their claims of robbery and other wrongdoing.”

  The staggering number of villagers snaked down the corridor and out into the courtyard. It didn’t appear as if the ages or the status of each individual mattered. One woman held a walking stick in one fist while she was supported by her daughter. Right behind the pair was a well-dressed tradesman. The man appeared displeased at being in the line; however, it was doubtful that he
would give up his spot to anyone.

  “Are these the claims for the month?” she asked, unable to keep the disbelief from her voice.

  “Nay, ‘tis for the week. They come here every Saturday tae air their grievances,” he explained. “The estate disnae make much money, and it disnae help when we have tae keep covering the losses and damages of folks who were attacked by thieves.”

  Kila was stunned by the revelation. Nothing like this ever occurred at Tancraig Castle. Rory held his judgment day every second month, but he never had these many people show up.

  A sudden wail rose above the loud din in the entrance way. The commotion caused her and everyone else to turn and watch.

  She frowned when she saw a guard trying to block a woman with a baby from entering the great hall. The young mother tried to push her way through, but the guard forcibly set her back into the hallway.

  “I need tae get inside,” she pleaded.

  “Dinnae try tae slip in front of us,” an angry matron yelled, her face becoming red.

  The problem was escalating, and a helpless infant was caught in the middle of the squabble. Kila’s temper flared at seeing the injustice. At home, no guard would ever have behaved so aggressively toward a person.

  “Release the poor lass,” she said, marching toward the guard. “Cannae ye nae see she has a babe in her arms?”

  “She needs tae wait like everyone else,” the guard said gruffly. “’Tis the order of things. Each person here has the equal right tae have their claims heard.”

  “But I’m nae here tae make a claim!” the woman cried. “Each time I come tae the castle, I’m denied. I just need tae speak with Iagan. I ken he’s inside the Great Hall, and if he sees me, he’ll listen.”

  “She wants tae speak tae Iagan?” Kila asked, momentarily confused. She assumed that everyone in the lineup had come to see William. She turned and saw Fearghas beside her. “Why dinnae ye ask Iagan tae come out here?”

  “The lass comes frequently,” he explained. “Iagan is a verra busy man…”

  “Just get him,” she shook her head impatiently. “We cannae have things getting out of control.”