Читать книгу Highlanders Collection - Бренда Джойс, Ann Lethbridge - Страница 19

Grizel MacKinloch awaited them inside the inner bailey. Tall and slender, she held herself as though she expected the world to grovel at her feet. Her dark brown hair was tightly braided, pulling the wrinkles taut from her face. As soon as she saw Bram, her expression slid through an array of emotions—shock, sadness and fury.

Dougal took the horses, not even bothering with a greeting before he retreated to the stables.

Nairna took Bram’s hand in hers. Though she’d wanted to believe that his mother would be glad to see him, there was no love on the woman’s face. The atmosphere around them felt colder, and Nairna was beginning to sense what Dougal and Bram had tried to tell her.

‘My lady mother,’ Bram greeted Grizel, bowing slightly.

She stared at him, as though he’d crawled out of a grave. ‘Bram.’

There was no embrace of welcome, no tears shed over his return. Instead, there was an air of impatience, as if she had somewhere else she wanted to be.

He’s your son, Nairna wanted to point out. Hadn’t Grizel missed him at all? Was there no warmth in her heart?

An indignant feeling started to gather in Nairna’s chest as Bram turned to introduce her. ‘You might remember my wife Nairna, of the MacPherson clan. You met her once when we were betrothed.’

His mother hadn’t attended their wedding, though Nairna didn’t recall why. She’d been so caught up in her happiness of marrying Bram, she’d hardly noticed anyone or anything else.

Grizel’s glance was cool. ‘I see.’ Her eyes flicked over Nairna in disdain.

Even so, Nairna remembered her own manners, dropping into a light curtsy. ‘I am glad to see you again, my lady.’

The woman gave a slight nod, then turned to Bram. ‘Why did you come here?’

‘It wasn’t my idea,’ he replied.

The bluntness of his tone made Nairna interrupt. ‘Would it not be better to speak inside? I would like to meet Lord Locharr and we can rest from our journey while we talk.’

If Lady Grizel and Bram began fighting before she had the chance to smooth things over with the others, there was little hope of convincing the women to return.

‘There’s no reason for you to stay,’ Grizel remarked, wasting no time in making her point. ‘If you came to ask us to return, the answer is no. I’ll not go back to Glen Arrin, so long as breath remains in my body. And certainly not if he is there.’ She nodded to Bram.

There was no reaction at all on Bram’s face, only calm acceptance. Nairna’s temper flared up, and she couldn’t stop herself from demanding, ‘Why would you say such a thing to the son you’ve not seen in seven years?’

Was the woman that heartless?

Grizel drew up her posture, her eyes hardened. ‘Would you want anything to do with the one who caused your husband’s death?’ Without waiting for a reply, she swept past them, striding into the castle.

The clench in Bram’s jaw revealed that Grizel had struck a raw spot. Nairna saw the fury that lingered there, but he held it back.

‘Bram, I—’

‘It’s true, if that’s what you’re wanting to know.’ He headed for the stables, as if he could release his anger with the rapid pace.

Nairna struggled to keep up and nearly stumbled when Bram stopped suddenly.

‘My father died when he took a sword that was meant for me. Grizel blames me for it.’

‘She’s wrong.’ Nairna raised her eyes to her husband’s, and in them, she saw the shadow of the boy he’d been. A boy who had been close to his father and no doubt lived with the cross of Tavin’s death. She couldn’t stop herself from moving into his arms, trying to bring him comfort without words.

But this time, Bram’s hand only touched her back, as if he were too angry to hold her. Whether it was his frustration towards Grizel or whether he simply didn’t want to embrace her, it was the first time she’d experienced hesitation from him. It bothered her more than she’d thought it would. Awkwardly, she removed her arms from his waist.

‘Do you want to leave?’ Bram asked.

She couldn’t—not until she’d spoken with the others. ‘I haven’t finished what I came here to do.’ She held back a moment, thinking to herself. ‘And I want to have words with your mother.’

‘Don’t be bothered by what she said. It’s simply her way.’ Bram continued inside the stables, where Dougal had led the animals. The boy spoke quietly to his stallion, absorbed by the horse.

‘I’ll see to your horses,’ Dougal offered, nodding to both of them.

Bram handed over the reins and went to stand by one of the stalls. His gaze settled off into the distance, and as the minutes passed, Nairna felt him slipping further away.

‘What happened at Cairnross?’ she murmured, coming to stand beside him. There was more that he hadn’t told her, something that bothered him still. His fists tightened as if squeezing an invisible enemy.

‘As I told you, Callum wasn’t there.’ His clipped response clearly said he didn’t want to talk about it.

She hadn’t meant to bother him, but something else must have happened. The frustration on his face went deeper and she sensed him pushing her further away.

‘Bram—?’ She reached out to touch his shoulder, but he moved back.

‘I’m in no mood to discuss it, Nairna.’

Beneath his irritated demeanour she sensed that something had unnerved him. Had he fallen into another spell, losing himself in the battle? Or had someone been hurt?

He wasn’t going to talk about it; that was clear. No amount of gentle questioning would break through the wall of guarded pride.

It hurt to see him like this, knowing there was nothing she could do. But she wanted to make the offer, none the less. ‘If there’s anything I can help you with, I’ll do my best.’

He turned to stare at her and the emptiness in his brown eyes made her take a step back. ‘I’m not something you can fix, Nairna. Leave it be.’

Brittle hurt bloomed inside and she didn’t know what to do. One moment, her husband was holding her as though he’d never let her go. The next, he’d cut her off, refusing to talk to her.

Confusion gathered around her like a cold gust of air. Risking another glance, she saw her husband watching her. Though Bram didn’t speak, nor reveal any of his thoughts, he hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

Her troubled thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a middle-aged man, short of stature, wearing a dark-green silk tunic, hose and a matching mantle. A heavy gold chain rested around his neck, denoting the Baron’s rank.

‘I heard that we had visitors,’ the man said, his smile broad. ‘I am Kameron MacKinnon, Baron of Locharr.’

Though his fair hair was thinning and his midsection had grown plump, the man emanated warmth and friendliness. Nairna curtsied, introducing herself and Bram, who came closer.

Standing just behind Lord Locharr was an older woman and an adolescent girl. Bram leaned in close, his warm breath against her ear as he whispered, ‘That’s Ross’s wife Vanora and their eldest daughter Nessa.’

The sensation of her husband’s breath sent a shiver through her skin. When he stepped back, she couldn’t suppress the feeling of disappointment.

‘Forgive Lady Grizel for what she said earlier,’ Lord Locharr said quietly. ‘She’s been through some difficult times and her grief has hardened her.’

It was the man’s attempt to smooth over the uncomfortable atmosphere and Nairna managed a nod. ‘I hope it was all right that we came to pay a visit. The MacKinloch men are missing their wives and children and I came on their behalf.’

Lord Locharr glanced to the women beside him, as if gauging their responses. Vanora stiffened, reaching out to take her daughter’s hand. She looked uncomfortable about the question, as though she were undecided on the matter.

‘Come inside,’ Lord Locharr offered, sending her a kindly smile. ‘You should stay the night with us and we’ll talk it over.’

Though the invitation was not unexpected, Nairna saw the tension in Bram’s face. Her husband’s hands came to rest upon her shoulders, as if he wanted the Baron to know of his prior claim.

Bram’s fingers pressed into her shoulders, his thumbs stroking the tension from her skin. The possessive motion took her unawares and the sensation was so soothing that she wanted to lean her head back, closing her eyes.

‘I’ll see to it that you have a chamber to yourselves,’ the Baron said. He nodded the request to Vanora, who disappeared with her daughter. ‘If you would both like to sit and enjoy a cup of mead or wine, we can talk while your chamber is readied.’

The older man gestured for them to join him upon the dais at the long wooden table. Nairna did, out of politeness, but she didn’t miss Bram’s reluctance. ‘You have a lovely home,’ she began. ‘I’m certain the women and children are grateful for your hospitality.’

Lord Locharr poured them each a cup of mead. ‘It was my pleasure. I enjoy having the little ones around.’ He filled his own cup and added, ‘But what you really want to know is when they’re returning.’

Nairna nodded. ‘It’s not right for families to be split apart.’

‘And neither is it right for women and children to be attacked by the English every few weeks.’ His eyes turned to Bram. ‘They came to me for sanctuary, for an end to the violence. I was only too happy to grant it.’

‘How many were killed?’ Bram asked.

‘Not so many. The MacKinlochs were always good fighters,’ the Baron admitted, ‘but one of the younger girls was killed in the last incident. After they buried her, Lady Grizel gathered up everyone and brought them here.’

Not the actions of an embittered old woman, Nairna realised, but one who wanted the safety of those who could not defend themselves. Were she in Grizel’s place, she might have done the same.

‘I would like to speak with her again,’ she told Lord Locharr. ‘Where might I find her?’

‘You’re wasting your breath,’ Bram responded. ‘Nothing you say will make any difference.’

She supposed that could be true. ‘I still want to try. I’ve nothing to lose.’ From what she’d seen of Grizel, the woman appeared to have little sympathy or kindness in her. But she’d managed to bring half the clan to safety, keeping them protected from danger. Not an easy task at all.

‘I’ll wait for you in our chamber, then.’ Bram stood and nodded a cursory thanks to the Baron. ‘If you’re determined to speak with her again, I won’t stand in your way.’ Without another word, he returned outside. Nairna tried not to let her husband’s cynicism weaken her resolve.

‘Grizel isn’t an easy woman to speak to,’ the Baron admitted, when Bram was gone. ‘But there is more to her than most people realise.’

Nairna believed so, too, but she wouldn’t know for certain until she spoke to Grizel alone. ‘Where can I find her?’

‘Why are you here?’ Lady Grizel knelt beside a wooden tub, her fingers covered in soap bubbles as she scrubbed the hair of a red-haired boy. Nairna guessed the child was two years of age and he sat within a large wooden bucket, whining as the matron rubbed his scalp.

‘I thought without Bram present, we could talk about what happened with the women and children.’

She wanted to understand whether Grizel was truly filled with such hatred, or whether it was nothing but empty words.

The older woman used her hands to scoop handfuls of water to rinse the boy’s head. When he started to cry, she sent the boy a grim look. ‘Quiet, now. You’re fine.’

‘I know that you left Glen Arrin after the last attack,’ Nairna ventured.

Grizel lifted the boy out and wrapped him in a drying cloth. She hardly looked at the boy as she tended him. It was efficiency, nothing more. And it was starting to chafe at Nairna’s patience. Without asking permission, she reached out and took the child from Grizel. She sat down, pulling him onto her lap.

After Nairna dressed him in a clean garment, the boy snuggled against her. At the feeling of his warm body nestled close, Nairna fought back the ache of longing.

Grizel hardly appeared to care. ‘We were attacked nearly every sennight,’ she said, ‘because our men refused to pay bribes to the English.’

Nairna rubbed the child’s back, shushing him as he fussed. She tucked his head beneath her chin, holding him close.

‘The men didn’t care what happened—all they wanted to do was fight.’ Grizel nodded towards the boy. ‘His parents were killed in the battle.’

An uneasy sense of understanding crossed over Nairna as she pressed a kiss against the child’s hair.

The lives of men are worth more than coins, her father had said. And now she was beginning to understand that.

Nairna took a breath and rocked the boy in her arms, watching as his eyelids grew heavy in sleep. ‘And what if the fighting were to stop? Would you return, then?’

‘They won’t stop. They’re stubborn and hotheaded, every one of them.’

‘Not all of them,’ Nairna said, thinking of Bram. He kept to himself, isolated from his brothers. ‘Bram and Alex are doing everything they can to get Callum back.’

A flash of pain slipped over Grizel’s face before she looked away. ‘Leave me now. I’ve no wish to speak of them again.’

‘And what about Dougal? He needs you, too.’

Grizel let out a sigh. ‘Ever since he returned from fostering and found Tavin gone, he does nothing but fight all the time.’

‘You’re his mother,’ Nairna insisted. ‘And he’s not a grown man yet.’

‘Dougal hasn’t spoken to me in months.’ Angry hurt bloomed within Grizel’s voice as she wiped her hands upon her gown. ‘He doesn’t need me.’

‘So you’ll turn your back on your sons, after all they’ve suffered?’

‘Every time I see Bram’s face, I remember that Tavin died because of him.’ Grizel’s eyes grew wild, her temper spilling over. ‘Bram was foolish and believed he was strong enough to fight the English. Callum followed him when we tried to keep the boys away.’

She rose to her feet. ‘You don’t know what it’s like to have your heart ripped away, losing your husband and two sons.’

‘I know what it’s like to lose a husband.’ The soul-wrenching grief had hurt so badly when she’d lost Bram, Nairna knew exactly how Grizel had felt. But a sixteen-year-old boy could not be blamed for it.

‘Bram suffered for seven years,’ Nairna continued. ‘He blames himself for the losses.’

‘And well he should.’

‘He was nothing but a boy.’ Nairna felt her own anger rising. ‘A boy who loved his father and wanted to fight at his side. To prove himself worthy.’

‘But he wasn’t,’ Grizel said softly. ‘He let his temper rule his head. I watched him run to face the enemy and Tavin stepped in to take the sword. He bled to death in my arms while the English took my sons.’

Grizel stared hard at her. ‘He might be your husband now. But I’ve no wish to speak to him or see his face again.’