Highland Brawn (The Band of Cousins Book 8)

by Keira Montclair

  The castle was surrounded by a tall curtain wall with guards at every corner. Outside the gates sat a small village, well-cared for huts arranged in neat rows. She could tell the fields behind them would be tended in the spring to plant grains and vegetables for the clan. A loch sat not far away, serene and beautiful, since there was little wind in the air. A few cottages sat around the loch, and one end looked quite odd to her.

  “What’s that at the end of the loch?”

  Connor gave a hearty laugh. “’Tis where we swim in the middle of the summer, those who dare. Aunt Brenna always tries to outdo my sire, so she started a rivalry for best loch. She convinced my uncle to set out those logs to give spectators a place to sit and watch the bairns playing in the water. The tables are out there for picnics. Can you see that large tree overhanging the end of the loch?”

  “Aye,” she said, noticing something hanging from it.

  “’Tis a swing Uncle Quade had his men tie to the tree branches. We swing from it and land in the middle of the loch. My favorite competition is to see who can make the largest splash. Loki usually wins.”

  “But what are the youngest ones doing during this competition?” She couldn’t help but think of her dear daughter. Surely it would be dangerous for her to venture out to the loch. “The water must be deep under that tree.”

  He laughed again, then said, “During the summer, Aunt Brenna ties a rope across the end showing how far the wee ones can go. You can’t go past it until you can swim well. My sire used to keep the wee ones busy by playing ‘big tree’ in the shallowest part at the end. He’d put both arms out and we’d each grab onto an arm and try to hang on, swinging back and forth like a tree in a storm. When we got older, he changed the game and he’d call himself a monster. I used to get scared, but Jamie would giggle so hard he’d always be the first to fall off, many times taking in a mouthful of loch water because he couldn’t stop laughing.”

  “And your sisters?”

  “Elizabeth was always too little, but Kyla would grab right on. She’d win sometimes, too, though Jake and Jamie would claim our sire was showing favoritism. They didn’t like to admit she was as strong as we were.”

  “And your mother?”

  “Whenever Jamie would go under laughing, my mother would always say the same thing, ‘Alex, be careful with the wee ones.’ Then Jamie would argue that he wasn’t wee. Same thing happened all the time, the only thing that changed was who was hanging onto his arms. Sometimes Roddy and Braden, even Daniel would hang on with one hand. My sire would allow him a foot, too.”

  She tried to picture herself in the middle of that loving clan, her daughter playing with the other bairns. But where exactly did she fit in? She stood alone. Is that what she hoped for the two of them?

  When she brought her gaze back to the gates, she couldn’t believe they’d nearly arrived.

  Her insides continued to churn with worry—mostly about Claray, but she also feared how the rest of Connor’s people would receive her. Although he and his cousins had accepted her, and they were the ones who’d fought the Channel directly, she still felt the pain of what she’d been forced to do.

  Connor rubbed her arm, a small gesture that nonetheless filled her with warmth and comfort.

  Gavin and Gregor came up from behind them, yelling the Ramsay war whoop.

  “Cover your ears,” Connor warned, still caressing her arm. She did, but it did little to muffle the sound when he followed with the Grant war whoop, joined by Roddy and Braden. The horses flew across the meadow as if they knew they were home and would be fed soon. Thorn rode with Roddy and Nari with Gregor, their faces split by giant grins. Both waved to Connor, giggling, as their horses raced past. Connor’s cousins were good men, too, she’d learned—they were making their horses gallop faster to amuse the laddies.

  They reached the gates and the hollering grew even louder if that were possible. The Drummond brothers jumped back and forth between the Drummond war cry and the Ramsay one, since they had the blood of both clans. Connor guided his horse through the gate toward the stables. Some of the cousins followed him, although a few others continued their war cries, riding in circles, to let everyone know how successful they’d been.

  A crowd had gathered to greet them, but Sela had eyes only for her daughter or Maddie. She’d just exited the stables and rounded the corner when Maddie rushed by to greet Alex. “Over there, Sela,” Connor’s mother called out, pointing to a group of lassies in the courtyard.

  Sela stood there with a lump in her throat, watching the four lassies as they played with a few young pups. Two of them, likely the twins by the look of them, chased a pup around. Claray’s squeal of laughter rang out as a couple of pups chased her around playfully, her red waves flying behind her.

  Sela’s mind turned to mush at the sweet sound because she’d never heard it before. Oh, her daughter had laughed and giggled on a few occasions, but to hear her overtaken with joy was something different and special. The sight melted the last bits of ice encasing her heart. Tears flooded her face as she stood there transfixed, watching the young ones.

  Her daughter had never before played with friends her age.

  Claray shouted out “Lise” to one of the young twins, and she and the other lassie both fell to the ground laughing, the sound changing to hysterical giggles as the wee pups licked their faces.

  Connor’s hand came to the small of her back. “Sela, do you not wish to greet her?” He reached for her hand and stepped in that direction, tugging her forward.

  Her hand went to Connor’s arm to still him. “Nay. She’s so beautiful and carefree. I don’t wish to end it yet.”

  Maddie came along her other side. “She’s missed you verra much.”

  “Has she? I’ve been so afraid…I feared she wouldn’t be happy to see me. Has she been well?”

  “During the day, she’s fine. She still has nightmares occasionally.” Then Maddie called out across the courtyard, “Claray, look who’s here.”

  Her daughter turned to face Maddie, but her eyes immediately found her mother’s. Sela swore her heart stopped beating for a few moments as she waited. But then her daughter’s sweet voice carried to her.

  “Mama!” She jumped up and raced toward her, her wee legs running as fast as she’d ever seen them.

  Sela knelt down and opened her arms, catching her daughter as Claray flew into her embrace. The first words out of her wee daughter’s mouth were, “I love you, Mama.”

  Through her sobs, she managed to say, “I love you, too.”

  “Mama, why are you crying? Are you not happy to see me? You’ll love it here. They’re all so nice, and they have the best fruit pies.” She stood in front of her mother and cupped one of her cheeks with a wee, perfect hand. “Don’t cry. I think you will like it here. I surely do. Come see the puppies.”

  She glanced up at Connor, who nodded. “Go ahead, Sela,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’m going inside for a bit. Come in when you’re ready.”

  Sela played with the four wee lasses and five puppies, her own tears dissipating into laughter.

  How had she ever become so blessed?

  Chapter Nineteen

  The evening had been full of good food, revelry, and celebration. Claray had eaten two fruit pies, sharing one with her mother. “Is it not the most delicious pie ever?” she’d asked, as the juice from the sweet apples dripped from her fingers.

  Claray’s happiness had lit a fire in her soul that could not be doused, and she loved every moment of it. When it came time to settle the wee lassies in bed, Sela followed Maddie and Lily to their chamber. The bed was large, and had a bolster around the edge, likely to keep the wee ones from falling off in the middle of the night. There were several tallows on the walls, and two wee beds off to the side. Claray said, “Mama, the puppies sleep in that one sometimes but the other one is for our bairns.”

  “Your bairns?” she whispered, having no clue as to what she referred to.

  Claray race
d to a basket in the corner and pulled out a stuffed bunny. “’Tis my favorite one. I like the bunny best,” she said as she gave the bunny a kiss and settled her on the wee bed.

  The walls were covered with different carefully woven tapestries. One depicted a rainbow and another was a scene of running horses. Maddie said, “Lily is verra talented. Are they not beautiful?”

  Lily blushed and said, “I just wished for it to feel like a bairn’s chamber.”

  “They are lovely. You are indeed talented, Lily,” Sela responded. She meant every word, but she couldn’t help but wonder whether she had any talents.

  Besides ordering young women to fight.

  “Mama, this is where I’m sleeping,” Claray said. “Isn’t it lovely? Would you check for spiders before I go to bed?”

  Maddie nodded, squeezed Sela’s elbow, and said, “I have the broom. The three of us will rid the chamber of all the bugs so you may sleep sweetly through the night.”

  They only found one bug, in the end, but none of them mentioned it to the lassies. Lily disposed of it discreetly, and the chamber was declared clean and ready for sleep. Claray hugged Lily and Maddie, then wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck.

  “Mama, you’ll not leave me, will you?” she whispered in her ear. “You will be here on the morrow?”

  “Aye, we’ll break our fast together.” She kissed her lightly, then asked, “Where do you sleep, in the middle or the end?”

  She pointed to one side of the huge soft bed and flounced onto it. “On this side. Lise and Liliana sleep in the middle and Nellie on the other. Mama, ’tis the softest ever. Look at all the furs and plaids we have.” Sela sighed, familiar worry finding its way to the forefront of her mind. Just how had her daughter been treated when she was controlled by the Channel? Vern had always promised her that she was fine, that he watched over her.

  But he’d never had a child of his own—would he have known she’d need a blanket?

  Had her daughter gone to sleep cold every night?

  Sela didn’t know. She’d never know.

  Of course, it wouldn’t help to worry about it now. That was in their past. Claray would always be with her from now on, and if she was not, she would only be with someone she trusted completely, like Maddie, Lily, or Brenna.

  She tucked her daughter in, then followed the other women out into the passageway. “Allow me to show you where you’ll be sleeping,” Lily said. “We put you right across from her chamber, and Connor will be next to you. Fortunately, we have many extra chambers due to the new towers Papa had built.”

  The gesture was kind, shockingly so for someone who had experienced so little kindness in her life of late. “Many thanks to you both,” Sela said. “I cannot thank you enough for bringing her here.” Her eyes darted to Maddie. “What you did…”

  “Say no more, lass. ’Twas my pleasure,” Maddie said.

  Lily added, “She’s been a delight. The girls will miss her when you move on.” She clasped Sela’s shoulder. “I’m surprised you’ve held up as well as you have, considering all the tales I’ve heard of what you and the others have been through. I hope you sleep well. If you need anything at all, please let me know. I don’t know what you have with you, but we have a few night rails in the chest at the end of the bed if you’re in need.”

  “I must admit I’m exhausted. I’ll go tell Connor I’m going to bed. I know he’ll probably enjoy the time with his cousins.”

  She followed them back down the stairs, surprised to see the large number of people gathered in the great hall. The group of cousins stood around the hearth while others clustered around different trestle tables.

  To her surprise, two lasses she recognized made their way over to her—Linet and Merewen Baird, although she’d heard both lasses were now wed into the Ramsay clan.

  “Sela, may we chat with you?” Linet asked.

  “Of course. It would please me verra much.” She couldn’t help but wonder if they intended to condemn her for what she’d done to them—she’d wronged them both—but if they did, it was their right. She wished to make amends where she could.

  They found a few empty chairs off to the side of the hearth, close enough that they could enjoy the warmth but not so close that the cousins’ talk of their final battles with the Channel would overpower their own conversation.

  Sela felt her hands shaking slightly, but she gripped them together.

  “I just wished to tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me in Inverness,” Linet said. “You kept me from what would surely have destroyed me.”

  Her eyes misted instantly, although she pulled from her experience at containing her emotions to stop herself from turning into a blithering fool. “Leena, I mean Linet, I wish I could have helped you more in Edinburgh and Berwick, but I could not.”

  Merewen reached for Sela’s hand. “Nay, we understand. It was our cruel brother who caused all those problems for us, not you. Please don’t think ’twas your fault.”

  Sela squared her shoulders and folded her hands in her lap. “You are being too kind, although I did what I had to do to protect my daughter. I tried to make a decent life for most of the lasses under my care—” Her gaze shot to Linet, but there was no accusation in her eyes. “—but my biggest guilt is that I turned my head to so many things. I didn’t ask questions when I should have. You may not believe this, but I wasn’t aware of how many young lasses and lads they sold. I never participated in that part of their operation, and for that, I’m grateful. But still, I turned my head when Fitzroy…” She looked back at Merewen, this time unable to stop her tears. “I’m sorry for what you were forced to endure, both of you. I do apologize for everything I did that involved the two of you. Although I’m not sure how, I intend to atone for my part in the Channel’s operations.”

  “You’re forgiven,” Linet said. “I know ’twas not your fault, but the doing of those wicked men. Please don’t think on it again.”

  To Sela’s surprise, Merewen nodded her agreement. “You’re forgiven. All has ended well, and for that we are grateful.”

  “As am I,” she whispered, wiping away her tears. She glanced around the hall to see if anyone was watching their encounter, but no one appeared to pay them any mind. Chatter and laughter echoed in the hall.

  “You’re both verra fortunate to be part of this clan,” she said.

  “We both know that,” Merewen said. “And we know how lucky we are to have found our husbands. I don’t know what has transpired between you and Connor, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you. We all have. He is a fine man. I suspect you already know that.”

  “What are your plans now that this is over?” Linet asked softly. “Do you have a home somewhere? I suspect either the Ramsays or Grants would be happy to offer you one.”

  She shook her head, unable to speak. The generosity of these people, all of them, baffled her. She’d done so little to deserve it. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m tired. I’m going up to my chamber. I appreciate your generosity.”

  The two sisters stood and each gave her a hug. Hesitant at first, she allowed the closeness, pleased to discover that it made her feel better.

  Connor turned around and came their way.

  “All is well?” He looked in Sela’s eyes as he asked, holding her gaze as if to gauge her mood.

  “Aye,” Sela replied. “We had a good talk, and for that I’m grateful.”

  Linet and Merewen took their leave to join their husbands, Linet glancing back to smile at Sela one last time.

  “Connor, I’m exhausted. I think I’ll head up to my chamber. Enjoy your night with your cousins and I’ll see you on the morrow.”

  She hadn’t thought he’d accept her excuse and walk away, and he didn’t disappoint her. “Allow me to walk you upstairs,” he said. “I don’t know which chamber you’ve been given, but I’m in the one next to the lassies.”

  She said a brief good night to his parents and the Ramsays, then led the way to her chamber. Befo
re opening the door, she grabbed the torch bracketed beside it.

  “The torch?” Connor asked, giving her a wide berth as he held the door for her.

  “I know you’ll think me daft, but I must check for spiders. I sleep much better that way and a torch makes it easier.”

  “Why don’t you let me do that?”

  She capitulated, mostly because she was too tired to think of a good reason to refuse him. When he finished, visibly killing two, he took the torch back into the passageway.

  “My thanks,” she whispered, sitting on the bed.

  “In a couple of days, a group is headed to Grant land. You’ll join us?”

  “Of course,” she said, catching his gaze. He looked like he meant what he said. She’d worried that he would leave her behind on Ramsay land, but he had invited her instead. He wanted her with him, and she would go gladly. Connor made her feel safe.

  “You are exhausted, sweetling.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead, and then her lips. “I hope you sleep well. We can talk on the morrow.”

  She nodded and followed him to the door, which she closed and locked behind him.

  She was free. She no longer had to answer to anyone, and Claray slept happily in the next chamber. Why didn’t she feel as wonderful as she should?

  She knew why.

  Guilt.

  ***

  Connor enjoyed talking to his cousins, but he had a niggling fear in the back of his mind.

  What was Sela going to do now that she was free?

  He loved her. She was a strong, resourceful woman, and although her ice had melted, he still considered her a queen. Her beauty and the way she carried herself ensured she looked the part, and her heart, now revealed, was surprisingly soft. She clearly loved her daughter, so much so that she’d suffered horrible treatment to save the bairn.

  How could he not admire someone with such tenacity?

  But he could also see she was lost. The years she’d spent in the Channel’s clutches had forced her to create a mask—Sela, the Norse Ice Queen. Now that she’d been stripped of it, she was having trouble figuring out what was left.