Highland Pride

by Dana D'Angelo

  The punishment he had in store for them would be harsh. There was no mistaking that.

  Chapter 20

  The weaver had finished making the tapestry, and the beautiful artwork hung behind the raised platform in the great hall. Kila was proud of the effect. Displaying the piece caused the large chamber to appear warmer and more inviting.

  After checking and double-checking the details, Kila was satisfied that everything was well covered. The kitchen was running smoothly, and the last minute preparations and cleaning were completed.

  Everything was ready, and all they needed now was for the guests to arrive. This gathering needed to be spectacular, and all the guests had to have a wonderful time. But despite her readiness, Kila felt nervous and fearful. In truth, this was the first function she had arranged on her own. In the past, Mairead always took care of the details, and Kila assisted her.

  The servants looked her way and seemed to pick up on her fears. Soon, they became jumpy and crashed into each other. At first, she became frustrated by their behavior. But then she realized that she was the source of their anxiety, and she wisely delegated the event supervision to Magy. In an attempt to calm her jittery nerves, she decided to retire to her bedchamber until the guests arrived.

  Since Kila couldn’t spend the next hour being idle in her room, she forced herself to sit at her desk and compose a message to her sister. After she finished writing the long overdue letter, she sealed the parchment with wax. She began to put away the writing implements when she caught sight of a folded missive. It was the suicide note. She had forgotten to put it back in the box. She walked to the four-poster bed and started to kneel on the ground when she heard a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” she called.

  Alys burst into the bedchamber, her cheeks flushed. “The guests are here,” she said, slightly out of breath. “Ye must come now.”

  “They are already here?” she asked, shocked. There was no time to put the letter away, and she quickly tucked it in her sleeve. Someone needed to be at the entrance to greet the guests. “I should go and make sure that we dinnae run into any difficulties.”

  Kila hurried down to the great hall, and to her relief, Fearghas was already seating the guests. She had nothing to worry about. They had gone over the supper schedule many times. Once the people were settled, the servants would then bring out the food. The scheduling of activities was explained in advance, and she had faith the servants would execute everything as planned.

  Fearghas announced the arrival of the MacHewens. Kila scanned the space and spotted William’s daughter standing near one of the windows, watching the influx of people entering the main chamber.

  “They’re here,” she said, approaching Isabel. “Come with me, and ye can greet them.”

  As Kila turned, she caught a glimpse of William. He wasn’t looking at her, but a dark shadow had crossed his face, and he appeared anything but happy. He brushed past her and headed straight to the chief and lady of Clan MacHewen. She pulled Isabel quickly behind her.

  “I’m surprised that ye have come,” William said, his tone polite although there was a hard edge to it.

  “We were invited,” the MacHewen said.

  “Invited? By whom?”

  “A MacGregon sent us the invitation,” he said. “We trust a MacGregon wouldnae have requested our presence if there were ill intentions involved.”

  “There were never any ill intentions,” William said tightly.

  “That’s what ye say, but the facts speak for itself. Besides, I wanted tae see for myself how your estate has declined since Anna’s death.” Rob MacHewen looked around him and sniffed. “I can see that it has.”

  The tension between them became thick. It was a mistake to invite the MacHewens, Kila realized. She was so focused on bringing the MacHewens and Isabel together that she never considered whether William might object to the reunion. Her only excuse was that she spent too much time immersed in the details of the event, and she forgot to examine the invitation list. She let out a low groan. Mairead would have never made this mistake.

  As she witnessed the hostile interaction, dread began to seep into her body. Almost immediately the note she found sprang to her mind’s eye, and she knew that she was in trouble. It didn’t take much intelligence to guess that the bad blood that existed between the two clans was somehow linked to the letter.

  Kila winced as the animosity in the room grew. Why didn’t she make this connection? Even though she stood at a distance, she sensed the hatred between the two chiefs. And although the MacHewen clan members were here for a celebration, none of them looked as if they were in the mood to be merry. If anything, they appeared as if they wanted to engage in a bloodbath.

  Kila had to do something. She caught Fearghas’s attention and quickly beckoned him over.

  “Hurry, show the MacHewen and Lady Margaret tae their seats,” she hissed, instinctively knowing that things would come to blows if she didn’t interfere.

  To her relief, the laird and his wife allowed themselves to be seated while William acted the polite and considerate host. Kila saw the lady point to the tapestry that Kila had given to Isabel as a gift. The woman looked like she was about to cry when she saw it. Her husband glared at William as if he had displayed the wall hanging to taunt them. At the instant, Kila began to doubt her decision to showcase the artwork. But it was too late now to take it down.

  The lady spotted Isabel, and her face brightened slightly.

  “Why dinnae ye go over and speak with Lady Margaret?” Kila suggested. “I’ll take ye tae her.”

  “All right.” She took Kila’s hand and held it tightly.

  “Go on,” she said gently nudging her forward when they got closer. “Go speak with her.”

  The lass cautiously approached the older woman.

  A moment later, Isabel returned, beaming. “Lady Margaret remembers me, and she wishes me well.”

  “We all wish ye well,” Kila said, smiling back. “That’s why we’re holding this party for ye.”

  The servants filed into the hall, and soon the food and drink flowed easily among the guests. Then without further incident, supper finished. Soon the trestle tables were pushed aside to allow for the entertainment Kila had arranged for the night. Her heart warmed as she watched Isabel. Ewan had listened to the lass talking about this gathering for weeks, and her brother knew the importance of this occasion. Without any prompting from Kila, Ewan led Isabel into a reel. The lass laughed and fully participated in the dance. At seeing her jubilant enthusiasm, Kila was pleased that everything was unfolding exactly how she imagined.

  ***

  As the night wore on, William’s mood darkened. He tipped the bottle of whisky to his lips. It was probably wise to just consume weak ale, but he needed the hard spirit now, especially since the source of his foul mood sat a few feet away. When he saw the members of Clan MacHewen walk into the great hall, it was as if someone had punched him in the gut. All the old anger, guilt and animosity he felt toward the group came to the fore. It didn’t help matters that he was forced to swallow the barbed accusations the laird slung at him. William had half a mind to kick the clan out of his castle, but he realized that by doing this, he risked offending the guests, and ruining the event for Isabel.

  For a moment, his thoughts strayed on his daughter, and his mood softened. She reminded him so much of Helene. His first wife was always full of life and light.

  “It looks like Isabel is enjoying her party,” Grant said coming to stand next to him.

  “Aye, I think ye are right,” William said.

  He noticed his comrade staring at the bottle in his hand, and he thrust it at him. Grant poured a large serving into his tumbler before giving it back to him.

  Maybe this was the first time in her short life that Isabel had fun. William wasn’t a saint, and when Helene had died in childbirth, he pinned the blame on the infant. But even through his grief, he knew that his daughter hadn’t really killed his
wife. It took him years to finally come to terms with this fact. Meanwhile, his daughter’s sorrow only grew during this time. In hindsight, the lass likely felt responsible for her mother’s death. After all, everyone around her had told her this.

  William watched as his daughter stumbled. After dancing one reel after another, she was tired.

  He called Fearghas over. “’Tis time for the lass tae retire tae her bedchamber.”

  “Aye, of course. I’ll tell her now.”

  He watched as the servant marched up to Isabel. At first, she seemed confused, and then she looked straight at William, the disappointment clear on her young face. But she knew better than to disobey him. A moment later, she left with Fearghas without making a scene.

  As the celebration continued, the drunkenness and wildness became more obvious. A couple of men were passed out near the window and a few more staggered across the room.

  Suddenly, a crash sounded to the right. It was then followed by angry shouts.

  “What’s going on?” William asked, straining to see the commotion.

  “It seems like there’s a disagreement,” Grant said.

  But it was more than a simple dispute. One of his men was punching a MacHewen guard.

  “Stop them,” William commanded.

  He let out a curse and ran toward the fray. He recognized that if he didn’t get them to cease fighting, things would get bloody. And with a room full of hotheaded drunken men, this was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

  But then a shrill whistle cut through the air. The sudden noise made the men pause. They were further dumbstruck to see that it was the MacGregon lass who caused the sound.

  “This has tae end.” She stood with her hands on her slender hips, a fierce expression on her face.

  William indicated to his clansman to stand aside. Rob MacHewen did the same for his man.

  “Ye were invited here for a happy occasion, nae tae clash with one another.” She took a deep breath. And when she realized that she held the attention of everyone in the room, she continued, “I think there’s a significant misunderstanding between your people. And if ye were only tae talk with one another —”

  “Who are ye?” the MacHewen interrupted.

  “Kila MacGregon,” she said, her tone proud.

  “Right, ye are the MacGregon lass who sent the invitation,” he said, remembering her. “This matter disnae concern ye. Ye dinnae any idea what is going on here.”

  “That’s where I think ye might be wrong,” she said, her voice suddenly becoming nervous.

  “While searching for a gift idea for William’s daughter, I accidentally found this letter beneath my bed,” she pulled a folded parchment from her sleeve. “I probably should have just left it, but after I read it, I couldnae keep the truth tae myself.”

  “Nay,” William said. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at her while he willed her to give up her efforts. When that didn’t work, he spoke aloud. “I forbid ye tae say anything more, Kila.”

  “People must ken the truth. Everyone on both sides has suffered long enough.” She sent him an apologetic look before she stepped forward and handed the letter to Rob MacHewen. Her hand shook slightly. “This is the message she wrote.”

  Kila stepped back, avoiding William’s gaze. She then continued, “Your daughter wasnae murdered as the rumors suggested. She didnae die in her sleep either. Rather, Anna died by her own design.”

  A curse exploded in his brain. This was not supposed to happen. He wanted to jump in and snatch the letter from the MacHewen’s grip. But it was already too late.

  For a moment, shock fell over the group, and no one said a word. The MacHewen slowly read the letter. He then gave it to his wife. As she read the missive, she covered her mouth with her hand, suppressing the sound of distress. Tears soon flooded her eyes.

  “Is this true?” Rob growled. “Ye kept this information from us for five years. Ye made me suspicious of ye, made me think that ye murdered our innocent daughter. Ye carried this burden, this request. Why?”

  “She asked me tae,” he said stiffly. “’Twas her last request.”

  Anna was severely unhappy and wanted to end her life. She had lived at this castle and asked little of him, and this was the least he could do for her. William knew that he would take the blame for her death. And he allowed the false accusations since he didn’t want her reputation or her memory tarnished.

  “Ye didnae kill her,” he said slowly. His gaze darted across William’s features as if to determine whether he was being duped.

  “Nay, I didnae.”

  Even with the clipped answer, Rob seemed to gain the answer he needed. He nodded and pulled his sobbing wife closer to him. The vexation and hostility seemed to drop from his face. In its place were remorse and regret.

  “I see,” he said, his voice sounding tired. He was quiet for a long moment. “We have fought for sae long but ‘twas a misunderstanding like the lass said. Tonight, our feud ends.” He walked over to William, his hand outstretched. “We’ll put this behind us, and work on building a new alliance between our clans.”

  “Aye, w0e’ll put this behind us.” They shook hands. And while the conflict was ended, fury still simmered within William. “Ye and your clansmen are welcome tae stay the night,” he said politely.

  “Thank ye, but there is nay reason for us tae stay. We’ll leave now.”

  With that, he turned to his clansmen and indicated for them to follow him and his wife.

  Chapter 21

  The gathering resumed, but Kila saw that something had snapped in William.

  “I would like a word with ye,” he said, taking her arm.

  She looked over at Ewan, alarm coursing through her body. She had only wanted to help William, but it was apparent that he was displeased with her.

  Kila glanced around and saw that everyone watched them, although no one made any efforts to stop the enraged laird.

  “Where are ye taking my sister?” Ewan stepped in front of them. His fists were clenched, and his stance was aggressive and tense.

  “’Tis all right,” Kila said to her brother, pleading silently with him not to anger William any further.

  William was by far the experienced fighter, and she didn’t want her younger brother hurt. If something happened to him, she knew that she would never forgive herself.

  “He only wants tae speak with me,” she continued, trying to keep her voice steady.

  Ewan looked at her, intuitively understanding her fear. “Then whatever ye have tae say, I’ll hear it too.”

  “I dinnae want trouble, Ewan,” she said.

  Her twin unclenched his fists and backed away. “I willnae be far.”

  She nodded, acknowledging his support. Despite William’s considerable temper, she was certain that he wouldn’t physically harm her. But she had to admit that this was the first time she felt the full brunt of his temper.

  He led her to just outside the entrance of the great hall. A few guests mingled in the area.

  “Leave,” he barked.

  Everyone scrambled to do his bidding.

  “What the hell was all that about?” William demanded as he confronted her. “I told ye tae stop yet ye forged ahead, and revealed something that I didnae want tae be known.”

  “But why?” she asked. “Ye didnae murder your second wife. Now everyone kens this fact. I dinnae understand why ye would punish yourself by taking the blame.”

  “Who gave ye the right tae make this judgment?” he asked. His face was red with barely suppressed fury and betrayal. “Ye have overstepped your boundaries. I vowed tae keep Anna’s secret. Now I cannae even keep that promise.”

  “I’m sorry for interfering,” Kila said. And she truly was sorry now. She had thought that by revealing the truth of Anna’s death, the problem between the two clans would be buried. But she was wrong. Her vision became blurred, and she raised the back of her hand to wipe at the stray tears that slid down her cheek. “I thought I was helping. I…�
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  “Ye didnae help,” he said sharply, interrupting her. “I want ye tae leave. And I want ye tae never come back.”

  Kila was about to blurt out that she loved him, but his harsh words sliced deep into her.

  Ewan, who was a couple of feet away, saw her chin drop to her chest. He stepped forward. “Kila didnae do anything tae warrant your wrath,” he said, coming to her defense.

  She shook her head at her brother. It was no use. She loved a man who hated her. And while it was painful to leave on bad terms, staying in Domlainn Castle wasn’t going to make things better.

  Yet even though William was upset with her, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling his agony. Beneath his outrage, she saw a wounded man, and she was powerless to reach him.

  He stepped away and presented his back to her, as if he no longer wanted to see her. She had no idea what was going through his mind. All she saw was that his spine was rigid, and everything about him indicated that all should stay away.

  His anger and rejection caused pain to jab into her heart. She was the one who did this to him.

  “Let’s go, Ewan,” she said, choking back her tears.

  She had come here to prove that she could run a castle, but she had failed in that regard. Instead of leading the household, she managed to cause it irreparable damage. It was clear that William would never forgive her. And this knowledge crushed her. She had gotten to know William, and saw a side to him that was full of passion, kindness, and consideration. This was the man she loved.

  The floodgates opened, and Kila let out a sob. She had finally found love, and she lost it. Perhaps she was better off as an arm ornament. Henry MacIachlan had wanted this, and at least if she married him, she would become something useful. In the end, perhaps this kind of devotion wasn’t meant for her. Maybe misery was her lot in life.

  ***

  Three days passed and the fury from the party still simmered in his chest. William couldn’t stand to be in the great hall, and he retreated into his private solar.