Читать книгу Highlanders Collection - Бренда Джойс, Ann Lethbridge - Страница 50

No one said a word as they rode into the village. Thoroughly exhausted by the hard pace of the day, they were a much different group than the one that had begun the journey with a light mood. Dust-covered and hungry, they passed through the gates and Tavis nodded to the men on duty.

As he’d told Ciara, he’d sent messengers ahead so he knew the laird and lady would be waiting in the hall, along with Duncan and Marian and, most importantly, a hot meal for all. While the wagons followed the path around to the side of the tall stone keep as he’d instructed the drivers to do, the Murray warriors stood waiting for their lord and lady to dismount—or climb from her wagon—and to be dismissed by them before following his men to the barracks. Connor and Jocelyn stood on the steps, waiting to greet their newest ally.

‘Welcome to Lairig Dubh,’ Connor said as he walked down the steps to greet them. ‘You look a bit road-worn, so we can leave the official duties until morn,’ he offered.

Tavis knew this next part, for he’d watched Connor do it many times—sometimes to make his rank clear and sometimes to put visitors at ease. This time he was not certain which purpose this was for.

‘I am Douran and this is my wife Jocelyn MacCallum, Lady MacLerie.’ Connor lived without the ceremony of his title as earl until or unless it suited him. This was a simple reminder that the MacLeries had reached a level within the kingdom and within the king’s favour that this branch of the Murrays had not. Tavis watched as they and their son bowed to Connor, acknowledging that rank.

‘May I present my son James, my lord,’ Murray said, pointing to him.

The younger man did the same and waited on Connor before speaking. Ciara was greeted as the family she was and Tavis wanted to laugh and he could see the corners of Jocelyn’s mouth threatening the same. Connor waited a few moments before holding his hand out in a more personal greeting.

‘But we will be more than allies, William and Eleanor, and James, if I may?’ Connor met their gazes. ‘We will be family, so we need not stand on ceremony. Please call me Connor and my wife Jocelyn.’

It was interesting to watch as he did it, even knowing it was for effect only. The tension dissolved and Tavis followed them inside where he knew Duncan and Marian would be waiting. He could see the nervousness increasing in Ciara, for she stood rigidly now and her hands trembled. He hoped that she would get a good night’s rest before tackling the serious matter with her parents.

They entered the keep and walked along the corridor until they reached the hall. Tables had been set up with food and Tavis nodded to those he passed on the way to the front of the hall. Though servant in the Murrays’ hall, he had some status here and would give his report directly to Connor after the others left.

The guests were introduced to Duncan and Marian, as well as Rurik and some other of Connor’s retainers and his steward, and then seated. Some informal conversation went on while the food was served and he noticed how quiet Ciara was through it all. The welcome from her parents had been a warm one and he watched as she melted into her mother’s embrace. A few words were exchanged and then Ciara was seated between her parents and James.

It was a simple meal, but nourishing and filling and very satisfying after the meals on the journey. It took a short time and soon Gair, Connor’s steward, escorted the Murrays to the chambers above that had been prepared for them.

Less than an hour after they reached the keep, all was quiet and Connor waited in his chambers for Tavis’s report. He gave Connor time to speak to Jocelyn before climbing the steps and was surprised, though he should not have been, to find her with Connor when he entered.

‘So, tell me of the Murrays and their heir,’ Connor began.

He spoke about the lands, the holdings, the people and then the family, giving his personal opinion and making assessments as Connor asked questions. Then Tavis reported about the journey, both to and from Perthshire, along with his opinion of Lord and Lady Murray and James.

‘So, will this be a good match as well as a good treaty?’ Connor asked. Jocelyn watched him intently as he began to speak.

‘They seem companionable, from what I’ve seen,’ he admitted. ‘James is not opposed to taking her as wife.’

Connor snorted. ‘Certainly he is not! With what that family will gain from this, he would take my horse to wife if it was offered.’

‘Connor!’ Jocelyn warned with a word. Tavis forced a laugh at Connor’s attempt at humour and Jocelyn gave him a dark look, too. This particular truth hurt more than others, for Ciara was simply a means to an end for the Murrays and her virtue and honour, present or missing, meant nothing to them if it brought them the wealth they needed.

Connor shrugged as though he had not said anything offensive and then asked, ‘And what of Ciara? Will this match suit her?’

The silence that filled the room was deafening as they waited on his answer. It seemed to matter a great deal to the laird if she would be happy. As though he’d heard Tavis’s thoughts, Connor nodded.

‘She is the first of our children to be given off in marriage,’ the laird explained.

Tavis understood Connor meant the first from among him and Duncan and Rurik, though his own daughter would most likely be next for a marriage arrangement, if one was not already being planned.

Tavis tried, he really did, but this time answering a question that would result in the marriage going forwards stopped him. He pushed his hair away from his face and rubbed his forehead. He just could not seem to say the words of approval this time. He’d tried convincing Ciara that the match was a good one for her and hated every word he spoke on its behalf.

‘You will have to ask her that question, Connor. Only the lass knows for certain.’

Connor frowned and Jocelyn smiled and Tavis did not know which reaction he should worry over more. Knowing his words would be taken as something they were not, he tried to explain.

‘Ciara knows that this is your will. That this agreement will benefit both clans. That it is her duty to accept it unless there are serious reasons not to. I think that she will do her duty.’

Now Connor smiled and Jocelyn frowned, making him more nervous.

‘I will speak to Duncan in the morn after he’s spoken to her.’

‘She knows.’

The words hung out there between them and no explanation was needed as to what she knew.

‘Did Iain tell her?’

‘Nay, she overheard a conversation about her mother. She asked me to confirm it.’

‘What did you tell her, Tavis?’ Jocelyn asked, worry and concern threading her voice.

‘I told her I did not know the whole truth of it, only that I’d heard the same rumours. ’Twas not my place, Jocelyn,’ he said.

‘Nay, ’twas not. We’d all hoped there would be no need. That no one would be foolish enough to speak of the past with her.’

‘And no one did. The lass overheard a private talk between father and son that she was not meant to hear. James apologised to her and to me, on your behalf. He understands the seriousness of raising such insults now.’

‘I do not envy Marian this night,’ Jocelyn said quietly. ‘’tis a terrible thing when sins of the past rise to meet you.’

The laird and his wife both shared the same haunted expression, clearly thinking of the same matter and one that he had not been privy to all those years ago. He’d been a boy when Connor got his reputation as the Beast of the Highlands and the rumours flew about him killing his first wife. When he was of an age to serve and began under Duncan’s supervision, no one said or believed such things. From the glance just exchanged, there must be some truth to that rumour to cause such pain to both of them.

‘Is there anything else, Tavis?’ Connor asked.

‘Oh, Jocelyn, I spoke to your brother and he sends his greetings. He hopes to visit before the weather turns.’

Jocelyn smiled and Connor frowned. Athdar’s initial visit here was the cause of her being forced to marry Connor, but things were more cordial between them now.

‘My thanks, Tavis,’ Jocelyn said, walking over to where Connor stood. ‘And my thanks for carrying out this duty.’

‘’Twas my honour,’ Tavis said. ‘Connor. Jocelyn. I will see to my duties in the morn.’ Nodding to each of them, he turned and left the chamber.

He tried to ignore the anger that simmered just below the surface now. He attempted to convince himself of how good it would feel to sleep in his own bed and wake in his own house on the morrow. He walked swiftly through the keep, checked on the horses and wagons, then made his way out through the gates and down to the village. Without clear reason or intention, he took the path that passed by Duncan’s cottage.

Though a wealthy man, Duncan and Marian and their children lived simply, preferring a cottage in the village now to chambers in the keep. As he walked by, he noticed that no light came from within. Ciara had looked ready to drop, so he hoped she was resting before facing the troublesome conversation in the morn. The rest of the village was quiet and dark, as was his cottage.

He opened the door and found fresh water in a bucket on the table, along with some food—bread and cheese—wrapped next to it. He paid a few coins to one of the women in the village to see to its keep when he travelled on the laird’s business and she had. Clean linens on the bed and wood and peat by the hearth were ready for his use. It was well-spent money, in his opinion, to come back to a clean, stocked house and not need to worry about such matters.

Tavis removed his garments, washed as best he could so he didn’t befoul the clean sheets and fell on to the bed in exhaustion. Though he expected to lie awake and think about all that had been said and done, the next thing he knew, the sun was shining through the open shutters.

And he wondered if Ciara yet slept.

Though she had expected to spend the night dreading the morn, her body, mind and heart had been too drained to do anything but collapse into the hold of sleep. She woke as she usually did when in her own bed, with her younger brother and sister pouncing on her and begging for news. This time, their questions went on endlessly until her mother entered and intervened, ordering the young ones to give Ciara a chance to wake.

The love that shone in her mother’s eyes this morn was overshadowed by fear and guilt, so Ciara knew the reckoning was close at hand. Tempted to pull the bedcovers over her head and claim illness, she understood she was long past such antics and could not avoid, did not wish to avoid, learning the truth of her and her mother’s past.

In truth, Ciara wanted answers almost as much as she dreaded getting them. She remained in bed long enough to hear her siblings being hustled out of the cottage with instructions to visit their aunt and cousins in the keep. She was debating her approach when her mother entered, carrying a steaming mug in each hand.

‘Duncan did not know if you wished to speak only to me or to both of us,’ she began.

From the way her mother’s hands shook, Ciara worried that they would both be doused with hot liquid. She pushed back the covers, climbed from the bed and took them from her, placing them on the table near her bed.

‘Should he be present? I have no idea of what to expect, so you are the better judge of it.’

‘Duncan,’ she said, raising her voice ever so much. Her stepfather must have stood at the ready, for he entered in only a moment.

‘Good morning,’ he said, walking over and kissing her on the forehead as he always did. The tears started even then. ‘Did you get any rest?’

‘Aye,’ she said, wiping the first of what she knew would be many tears from her eyes.

Her mother sat on the edge of her bed while she chose the chair. Duncan stood near the door in the stance she’d seen countless times before—the negotiator ready to listen and evaluate. Ciara had thought about what to ask first all the way home from Perthshire, but now, when faced with the situation, she could not form a single question. Duncan cleared his throat and nodded to her mother.

‘Ciara, first I need you to understand that what is said between us here today can go no further. You cannot share what we say with anyone, not James, not even Tavis or Elizabeth. And I must have your sworn word that you will keep this all secret.’

‘No one else knows?’ she asked. ‘The laird? Uncle Rurik?’

‘They may have their suspicions and Jocelyn knows some of it, but only Duncan, my brother Iain and I know the truth that I am going to share with you.’ Stunned at this disclosure, Ciara nodded.

‘Nay, Ciara. We need you to speak the words giving your sworn oath. This goes beyond a family matter, it affects a number of clans, treaties, reputations and innocent lives,’ Duncan explained. ‘Say the words.’

He always did that during negotiations on a treaty or agreement—both parties, all parties, needed to speak the words about what they were agreeing to so there was no question that they understood the arrangements. And it always ended with their sworn oath, spoken and written.

‘Aye, Father. I swear that I will not share whatever you tell me this day with anyone. I will not speak of it with anyone, even Uncle Iain, if that is your wish?’ Duncan nodded to Marian and Ciara steeled herself for what was coming.

‘You heard the old rumours, then?’ her mother asked. ‘The ones calling me the Robertson Har …’ She could not say the words, so Ciara nodded. ‘They are not true, Ciara. I came to my marriage bed with Duncan a virgin, though no one could know it.’

‘But you had me before you married him,’ she said. ‘I had five years when you …’ Her mother took her hand and held it.

‘Although you are my daughter in spirit and in heart and in every way important, I did not give birth to you, sweetling.’

If Ciara thought hearing the rumours unsettled her, this sent her reeling. Her bedchamber dimmed and began to swirl before her eyes. Sucking in a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes closed and hoped the dizziness would pass.

‘Ciara. Ciara!’ Duncan said loudly, tapping on her cheek. She forced her eyes open and found him standing with the mug of tea in front of her face. ‘Drink this.’ He held it at her mouth and tipped it, so she had no choice but to take it in. Within the tea hid a good measure of whisky and she drank it down.

‘Then who …?’ she managed to squeak out. No matter what else the rumours said, they had never questioned that she was the daughter of Marian Robertson.

‘My dearest friend and sister by marriage died giving birth to you. She placed you in my arms and begged me to protect you and care for you.’

‘Beitris? Uncle Iain’s wife?’ she asked. ‘How could that be?’ There were several glances exchanged between them before her mother spoke again.

‘My father was going to shame her for …’ Her mother paused and could not say whatever she’d planned to. She tried several more times, but her tears flowed heavily. She looked to Duncan now, pleading silently for him to continue since she could not.

‘Beitris and Iain could not conceive a child together. They tried for years and lost at least two babes. So, in desperation, she agreed when he brought others to their bed.’

Plain, simple words that tore her world apart and destroyed every part of her being.

Ciara could usually come up with questions to clarify issues or to explain situations, but she was completely dumbfounded by this news. Her uncle could be her father. Her mother was not the woman who gave her life. No one was who she thought they were, including her. But this was only the beginning and she closed her eyes against the rest.

‘The old laird, Devil take his soul, was determined to shame Beitris and to protect his heir. Marian could keep you if she would take the attention and the shame on herself. She did it for you, for her friend.’ The disgust was clear in his voice. ‘The old laird announced to all that while Beitris and her babe died in childbirth, Marian took men to her bed and shamed her family. He called her a whore and cast her out.’ Duncan paused then and she opened her eyes to see him tightening his fists again and again. ‘The word and story spread across the Highlands, hiding the real truth.’

‘The only honourable thing the old bastard did was to make the arrangements he’d sworn to do and you and Marian were sent away to kin on the other side of Robertson lands.’

Her mother, nay, her aunt … nay. No matter the story. No matter the way it had happened, the woman sitting before her, torn by these admissions of the past, was her mother. And now she took a breath and spoke.

‘I raised you and thanked God every day that I was blessed with you, Ciara. If I carried any shame, I knew it was not true. It was worth any cost I needed to pay to raise you when your real mother could not.’

‘Is Uncle Iain …?’ She could not finish the sentence now as she thought on numerous encounters with the man who might be more than he ever admitted.

‘He could be,’ her mother said. ‘There were the others involved, but you do resemble him.’

When she calmed a bit, she noticed the terrible fear in her mother’s eyes and went to her. Her mother opened her arms as she had done countless times before and Ciara fell into them. The embrace became something more and Ciara cried in her arms for the pain and humiliation Marian had suffered to keep her safe.

‘I can never thank you enough for what you did for me … for your friend … for everything,’ she whispered, kissing her mother’s cheek. ‘Never.’

Ciara glanced over at the only father she’d known and nodded to him. He cleared his throat against the tears she could see in his eyes. ‘Now you understand why this must be kept secret?’ he asked.

He expected her to use her mind in this and she tried to, even though she was overwhelmed by the disclosures and the truth. Examining all those who could be harmed, she realised that this truly did affect a number of clans, the honour or dishonour of many people and the innocence of a woman who agreed to give her husband a child by any means.

‘I do,’ she said.

Thinking about something that Tavis had witnessed, she asked about the visit from Beitris’s family some months later. ‘Why did Beitris’s family come here? Tavis told me you were questioned,’ she said, facing her father.

This time it was his turn to pale at her question. Again her parents glanced at each other. They were not expecting this matter to be brought up, but she needed to understand as much of the whole truth as she could discover.

‘Rumours flew about the night of your birth. Some in the keep heard a bairn’s cry. Others claimed to see you being spirited out of the keep alive. Worse, one of the men involved confessed his part on his deathbed and Beitris’s family learned of it. Knowing that my word was my bond, they asked if your mother, Marian, came to my bed a virgin or if she could be your mother.’

Of all the things she could have heard, this was the most shocking for its implications on his honour.

‘You lied for her?’ she whispered, fearing that saying those words in any volume was a terrible thing. The accusation could have resulted in punishment or even a challenge if uttered by a man in public, but her surprise was so great, the words blurted out.

‘You were her child. Losing you would have destroyed her and I could not allow that to happen.’

His words were a declaration of the deepest kind of love imaginable and her heart swelled listening to it. A man of honour who would give it up for the woman he loved … and still loved just as deeply from the way he gazed at her now.

There were probably other questions, but Ciara could not think of them now. What she had heard thus far changed everything she knew about her family, her clan and herself and she would need time to come to an understanding of what this all meant. For now, she would consider everything and speak to her parents again when she’d calmed down more. If she thought to speak about it further, the loud knock on the cottage door stopped her. Duncan left her chamber, closing the door as he did, and went to see who knocked. She remembered just as his voice reached them there.

‘Ah, James! Welcome! Elizabeth, come inside,’ Duncan said loudly, loud enough that most of the village probably heard him.

Ciara started to go to the door, but her mother stopped her. ‘Let him handle this. You need time to …’

‘Stop crying and let my eyes stop swelling?’ she asked quietly.

She never looked delicate or dainty or feminine when she cried. Instead her eyes swelled, her nose looked like a bulbous mess and nothing helped except time. Tavis had teased her more than once over it and she’d known it was true when she peered into the looking glass for herself. Ciara smiled sadly and nodded.

The conversation in the other room continued and her father ended up sending James off with Elizabeth for a tour of the village since Ciara was too fatigued to leave her bed this morn. When the door shut, Ciara waited several moments before leaving her chamber.

‘Elizabeth seemed agreeable to showing James through the village. They hope you will feel up to the ceilidh this evening at the keep.’ Elizabeth was her closest friend and she would always appreciate her help in this.

‘I will.’

‘James tried to apologise to me for upsetting you.’

Ciara smiled then. James was trying to be honourable about this predicament since it was his words that had revealed it to her.

‘He seems genuinely sorry that I overheard it all.’

‘A good sign for a young man to take responsibility for his actions, even if it was accidental,’ her father said.

‘So you approve of this match, then?’ she asked. Looking from one to the other, she could see they differed in opinions in this.

‘Aye, I do, Ciara,’ he said plainly. ‘This just confirms it for me.’ Her mother snorted—snorted!—but looked away when she turned to her.

‘Mother?’ Ciara said, giving her the chance to voice her concerns. An unspoken but communicated thought passed from one to the other and her mother simply shrugged, keeping silent about any concerns she might have.

‘This is your decision to make, sweetling. I will support you in it.’

They turned to leave, with a suggestion that she rest, when she remembered the other question that nagged at her mind and memory.

‘My dowry,’ she said. They stopped and faced her, this time with their hands joined. ‘Is it from him?’

‘Iain?’ her father asked.

‘Aye.’

He shook his head in reply. ‘He provided a dowry for both you and Marian. We decided to put it together for you, since your sister, our Beitris, inherits lands from her Robertson grandmother.’

‘’tis blood money, then, paid for his part in his wife’s, my mother’s, death?’

‘I think of it as repayment for all that was lost, Ciara. We existed in poor circumstances when both of us were entitled to more, much more, but could not claim it.’

‘To ease his guilty conscience, then,’ she offered.

‘To offer help when he could not in the past,’ her mother countered.

‘You seem eager to forgive him for his sins, Mother.’

‘Ciara, do not let this make you bitter. You were raised in love by us, given every privilege and comfort you needed. I would have refused it at the time, but decided you deserved it, to ensure a happy future.’

The irony that struck her was that the dowry was the heart of the problem for her. It made her more appealing as a bride to any and all clans who had an unmarried heir and need for gold. Without it, she might have been able to marry someone here, someone …

Ciara shook her head, trying not to allow that thought to complete itself. If she were honest, she would admit that it also gave her a measure of control that other heiresses did not have. And she did not feel like being generous in her consideration of Iain Robertson’s actions in the past right at this moment.

‘I understand,’ she said, accepting that she would not win this argument.

They kissed her once more and then began to leave.

‘I would like to walk a bit and settle this in my mind.’

‘I will have a bath ready for you when you get back, Ciara. Once you feel refreshed, things will be clearer to you,’ her mother said. She watched as her mother took her father’s hand and met her gaze. ‘We are here any time you have questions. We will answer what we can.’

She nodded and closed the door to her chamber. Finding a clean gown in her trunk, she dressed and put on her leather boots. It was a warm day out, so she needed no cloak now. She would walk to the stream and freshen her face before returning. It would give her time to think about all these matters and the changes wrought by them in her life. She waited for her father to return to his duties before going outside and heading to the path next to the cottage.

And found Tavis watching her.