The Gift: The Pocket Watch Chronicles

by Ceci Giltenan

  Claire smiled at her, but Coll saw pain in her eyes. “I should attend to my prayers.”

  Lady Ranald looked exceedingly disappointed. “Oh, my dear lass, ye’ve spent the whole day in prayer. Surely the good Lord won’t begrudge ye a few moments of leisure?”

  Claire opened her mouth, clearly ready to refuse again, but Coll interrupted her before she could. “Lady Ranald, I beg yer indulgence, and yers too Claire, but I must ask a boon from ye both. It has been too many years since I’ve had a quiet chat with my sister and I think it’s long overdue. Lady Ranald, would ye mind terribly if Claire and I had some time to ourselves?”

  Lady Ranald shook her head, appearing a bit puzzled. “Nay, not at all.”

  Claire, on the other hand, was clearly apprehensive. “Coll, I need to be about my prayers.”

  “We’ve been apart for more than ten years. As Lady Ranald says, the good Lord is unlikely to begrudge ye a few minutes.” He gestured towards the tower stairs. “Will ye join me in my chamber? Or would ye prefer yer own?”

  She frowned at him. “Mine is quite comfortable.” Her tone was flat and emotionless.

  He put a hand on her elbow, guiding her to the stairs. She went ahead of him up the circular staircase and led him to her chamber, remaining silent the whole way.

  Once inside, she lit several candles.

  As the room brightened, he noticed a painting of an angel propped on a wooden chest. He picked up a candle and stepped closer to it. “What a lovely painting. Is it Lady Ranald’s work? Does she paint?”

  “Nay. I do.”

  “Ye did this?”

  She looked amused. “Don’t sound so shocked. There are only so many ways one can entertain oneself in an abbey.”

  “Claire, this is beautiful.”

  “Thank ye. I just finished another painting that I intend to give to Lady Ranald when I leave.”

  “Ah, I see.” Clearly, in her mind, leaving was a foregone conclusion. “As it happens, that’s one of the things I’d like to talk to ye about.”

  “Well, that’s a surprise.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm.

  Coll frowned. “Claire, I know ye’re upset, but if ye adopt that attitude, we’ll get nowhere.”

  Her cheeks flushed and she looked down. “I’m sorry. Ye’re right, that was inappropriate. But I’ve already told ye, I intend to go back to the abbey.”

  “I know ye did, but can we take a step back? Maybe just talk to each other for a while? I don’t want to argue with ye.”

  She sighed. “It’s not my intention to argue. Please sit down.” She motioned him towards a chair near the hearth and took the one opposite his.

  He sat down and considered her for a few long moments. He could tell she was uncomfortable. She fidgeted and avoided making eye contact.

  Coll wished he could ease the tension. Perhaps addressing the source of it was the best way to start. “Claire, earlier this evening, ye said I didn’t owe ye an apology. And it’s true that I had nothing to do with ye being sent to the abbey.”

  She nodded.

  “Ye also must know that Gavinia was behind it. Da would never have sent ye away without her influence.”

  She shook her head. “Coll, I don’t want to talk about this. Just as I told ye earlier, nothing can be gained by dwelling on it.”

  “I know ye said that, but I can’t let this lie. There are things we both must address. We can’t move on unless we do. I think much of the reason ye want to return to the abbey is simply because ye were sent away. Ye don’t feel as if ye’re part of the clan anymore.”

  “Please, Coll.”

  She looked distressed, but he truly believed he had to push past this.

  He leaned forward and took her hands in his. “I know this is difficult, but it’s also necessary. Ye and Darach were not sent away because ye weren’t loved or wanted. I swear that to ye. Ye were both so young, ye couldn’t see it. I didn’t see it for several years, but eventually I learned Gavinia twisted Da around her little finger with tears and lies and promises she never fulfilled.”

  Claire’s lips were set in a firm line.

  “It’s no excuse. I don’t mean it to be. Ye can only be manipulated by others if ye allow it. And Da allowed Gavinia to manipulate him. The fact remains, she was behind it. She used her wiles to convince Da that he was doing what was best for ye. Right or wrong, he didn’t see it as sending ye away from home. He loved ye and saw it as giving ye an opportunity most lassies don’t have.”

  Claire remained still.

  He sighed. “I don’t expect that to make anything better. But ye must believe me. Not only did Da love ye, but ye’re loved by the clan. Ye were Darach’s first concern, when Da fell ill.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake.

  Her brow furrowed, as if she were confused by something. “How do ye know that? I thought he was still in training with the MacLeods?”

  “Aye, he is.”

  “Then how do ye know what he was thinking after Da fell ill?”

  Damn. He’d hoped to avoid sharing this detail. “He came home for a while.”

  “To Castle Morrison? Why?”

  “Da sent for him.”

  She couldn’t have looked more hurt if he had struck her. “I see. Yet, apparently no one sent for me.”

  “But, Claire, that wasn’t because we didn’t want to. I made the decision not to bring ye home and I had a very good reason. Fearchar was in charge. He was essentially already the laird, and he was dangerous. His own desires drove his actions and when it came to getting what he wanted, he was ruthless. I feared if ye came home—if he even remembered that ye existed—he would have used ye for his own gain. Very likely, he’d have given yer hand to whomever would benefit him the most, regardless of yer wishes or wellbeing.”

  Fear flitted across her features. “So if he hadn’t been killed, I’d still be in the abbey?”

  “Nay. That wouldn’t have been likely at all. I had hoped to work on arranging a suitable betrothal for ye without his knowledge. Then I’d have tried to convince him of the wisdom of it. That was no guarantee he’d accept it if he wanted to give ye to someone else, but it was my only option. Once he remembered ye, there was absolutely no chance that he’d let ye stay at the abbey, even if ye believed it was yer calling. Ensuring ye were safely married to a good man was the best I could hope for.”

  Her expression softened a little, but she said nothing.

  “After he died, ’twas more than just Darach who wanted ye home. Practically the entire clan clamored for it. Do ye remember Etta, our old nursemaid?”

  She frowned. “I don’t remember much.”

  “Well, she went toe to toe with me as soon as news of Fearchar’s death reached us, insisting that with the danger gone, I needed to bring ye home.”

  A whisper of a smile formed on her lips.

  He chuckled softly. “Even as the clan chief, when the woman who wiped yer nose and changed yer nappies insists ye do something, it’s hard to say no.”

  She chuckled. “I suppose so.”

  Claire’s smiles were what he remembered most about her. Even the smallest one could light a room. Seeing a glimpse of that now brightened his mood and he smiled. “So ye see, the clan loves ye and ye were never forgotten.”

  Sadly, her amusement faded as quickly as it had come. “Perhaps not, but it doesn’t change the fact that ye’re all strangers to me.”

  “I know, sweetling. But we don’t have to stay strangers. Even though ye’ve lived yer life apart from us, ye’re still a Morrison.”

  She looked him directly in the eye. “Then if ye won’t let me go back to my home, let me return with ye to Lewis.”

  “Claire, it’s not that simple. There is something else ye need to understand. In his short time as laird, Fearchar managed to destroy our relationships with several other clans. When I became laird, I was charged with leading and protecting the Morrisons, but I inherited a disaster. If I have a hope of being successful, I
need to repair the damage and make new strategic alliances.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What are ye trying to say?”

  He shook his head, exasperated. As sheltered as she was, it was unreasonable to expect her to understand. Still, it was frustrating. He took a deep breath and made every effort not to let his frustration show. “I’m trying to say that I need this alliance with the Ranalds. I know ye want to return to the abbey, but ye’ve said yerself it isn’t because ye want to take vows.”

  She tensed immediately. “Well if it’s an alliance with the Ranalds ye want, ye’ll have to get it another way. Perhaps take Boyd on as a squire. He’s a good lad. Ye’ll like him.”

  “I’m sure I would like him, but I need the MacLean’s as allies too. I’ve already offered to take Laird MacLean’s son as a squire.”

  She practically jumped out of her chair and began pacing. “Well then, I don’t know what to tell ye, because I won’t be marrying Tavish Ranald.”

  “Why?” He demanded. “Until ye walked in the hall this evening, I had heard nothing but glowing stories about ye. I thought Lady Ranald was going to burst into tears before supper when she learned ye’d asked to go back to the abbey.”

  “Ye’re not asking me to marry Lady Ranald.”

  “But Tavish seems equally as fond of ye and he too was stunned when ye appeared to dismiss the possibility of a betrothal.”

  She stopped her pacing and spun to face him. “Well he shouldn’t have been surprised. Listen, Coll, Tavish is a good man, I can’t deny that. But there’s something Laird and Lady Ranald don’t know. From my first days here, Tavish didn’t wish to marry me. And that was just as well because I wanted to return to the abbey. Later, after we became friends and I began to enjoy his company, I learned the reason why he didn’t wish to marry. He loves someone else. Someone he can never have.”

  “Then I don’t see what the problem is. If he can’t marry her, it doesn’t matter.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Ye really think so?”

  “Aye. It’s clear he likes ye. He can learn to love ye.”

  She stared at him for several long moments without saying anything or appearing to react to his words.

  Coll had been around enough women to know that didn’t bode well. “What are ye thinking?” he asked, uncomfortable with the lengthening silence.

  “I’m thinking ye’re as clueless and misguided as Da. In spite of everything ye say, I have never been anyone’s priority. I’m an afterthought. An unnecessary burden.”

  “Claire, that’s—”

  “Nay, Coll, I heard ye out. Now please listen to me. The fact remains that through no fault of my own, I’ve lived a very lonely life. Now ye’re asking me to marry a man who has professed to love someone else? A man, who like almost everyone else in my life will never hold me first in his heart? Well, I won’t do it. I don’t care if it’s in the clan’s best interest or not.”

  Lonely? Dear God. Until this moment he’d believed her time in the abbey was essentially no different than his and Darach’s in training. But it certainly was. She hadn’t lived in the midst of another family, she’d been alone, except for contemplative nuns. Even though he understood it, the fact that she believed she was unwanted, wounded him. “Claire, ye aren’t an afterthought, or a burden, and ye’re my priority.”

  “I believe ye, thousands wouldn’t,” she scoffed. “If I’m yer priority, ye wouldn’t push me to marry a man I don’t wish to marry.”

  “And I won’t push ye to marry him. But it seems as if ye’ve planned to return to the abbey from yer first days here. Ye haven’t given it a fair try. Can ye at least reconsider?”

  Her jaw clenched and she turned her head to stare into the fire. She didn’t respond to him.

  After another protracted pause, he asked, “Claire?”

  Her entire posture changed and she shook her head as if defeated. “Whatever ye wish, Laird.” Her tone was flat and emotionless.

  “Claire, please. Don’t address me as laird. I’m not asking ye to agree to marry him. If he isn’t the right husband for ye, I’ll find someone else. I just want ye to keep an open mind about marriage in general. However, by yer own admission, ye haven’t decided to join the order. So hear me well, lass. Until ye do, until ye can look me in the eyes and honestly say ye’ve a calling to the religious life, I will not allow ye to return to the abbey.”

  “Ye’ve made that very clear. Is there anything else ye require of me tonight?”

  He pinned her with a stare. “I want my sister back.”

  She shook her head. “Sadly, it’s probably too late for that. So, if there’s nothing else ye need from me, I’ll say goodnight. Can ye find yer way back to the great hall?”

  This had definitely not gone the way he’d hoped. “Aye, I can.” Sighing, he stood and crossed the room to her, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Good night, Claire.”

  She looked away. “Good night.”

  Chapter 16

  Cassie stood staring at the door after Coll left. She was angry and hurt, but she knew she wasn’t alone in that. She had never felt Claire’s presence more profoundly than she had moments earlier. Perhaps that was because Claire’s feelings mirrored her own. But while Cassie had resigned herself to her own strained family situation, Claire still felt the indignant pain of a misunderstood teenager. Cassie’s own pain was only made worse when she realized Claire was being used as a political pawn.

  With all of Claire’s conflicted emotions roiling beneath the surface, it wasn’t surprising that Cassie had had trouble controlling her tongue.

  Even so, it hadn’t been Claire arguing with Coll. Her own hurt was not buried far below the surface.

  She took several slow deep breaths to try to calm down. Losing control had accomplished nothing and she couldn’t let it happen again. She had thought convincing Coll to let her return to the abbey would be relatively simple. After all, until tonight, it had sounded as if he’d left that option open to Claire. But after their discussion she realized there was much more to it. Coll—or, more accurately, Clan Morrison in general—needed an alliance with the Ranalds.

  Of course they did. Cassie was well-educated in medieval culture and knew that was the primary reason for medieval noblemen to arrange marriages. If she had given it any thought at all, she would have realized that had to be why Coll sought the betrothal. The fact that he wanted Claire to have an opportunity to get to know the Ranalds, and willingly consent to the match, was a sign that he loved and cared about his sister.

  She crossed the room to the window, pulled aside the heavy drapery, opened the shutters, and stared out at the sky.

  I have never been anyone’s priority. I’m an afterthought. An unnecessary burden…I’ve lived a very lonely life.

  Every bit of that was true for Cassie. At least it had been until Tom came along.

  And Mike. She smiled to herself. She felt closer to him than she did her father.

  But now as she thought about everything, it became clear she already felt closer to the Ranalds than she did to her parents or Sloan. She would be a part of a loving family if she stayed here. She’d be part of two loving families, if she believed everything Coll had said. Maybe she should reconsider things. She was certain if she didn’t oppose the betrothal, Laird Ranald would agree to it whether Tavish wanted it or not.

  She shook her head. No. Obtaining a surrogate family was not a good enough reason to stay here and marry a man who, by his own admission, could never love her.

  She would just have to play her role a little longer. And while it seemed possible that Coll would agree to take her back to Lewis with him, she couldn’t stop thinking about everything he’d said regarding how much the clan loved Claire. Going back there and dying immediately would be a terrible blow. She needed to try one more time to convince him to let her return to the abbey. She firmly believed it was the best solution. She would try to talk to him again tomorrow.

  To that end, during breakfast, she ask
ed Coll to take a ride with her that morning.

  He agreed.

  But even after they were well away from the keep and had been riding for at least half of an hour, she still hadn’t been able to raise the subject she wanted to discuss.

  Finally, it was Coll himself who pushed her. “Claire, when we left the keep I had the distinct impression ye wanted to talk with me about something.”

  “I’ve been talking with ye.”

  “Aye ye have. Ye’ve talked about the weather, and the harvest, and the plans for the Michaelmas feast. Somehow I don’t think that is what was on yer mind when ye asked to go riding with me. Was it?”

  “Nay, it wasn’t.”

  “Then just come out and say it.”

  Here goes nothing. “I want ye to reconsider yer decision not to let me return to the abbey.”

  He snapped at her. “Claire, we talked about this last night.” His tone was equal parts anger and frustration.

  She didn’t let it stop her. “I know. I heard everything ye said, but I don’t think ye understand. I have good reasons for wanting to return to the abbey.”

  He looked away from her for a moment. “Then by all that’s holy, tell me why.”

  “Ye won’t understand.”

  “Well there are some things about ye that haven’t changed. Ye’ve always been able to try the patience of a saint. Tell me why ye want to return to the abbey. Ye said ye had good reasons. What are they?”

  She frowned at him. She couldn’t tell him the real truth. “Because…I wasn’t ready to leave it.” Based on what Gertrude had said, that was the absolute truth.

  “That’s not an answer, Claire.”

  “Of course it’s an answer. I just want a little more time there.”

  Coll reined in his horse. “Stop, right now.”

  Cassie obliged, reining in her mount as well.

  “Look at me,” said Coll.

  She did and was touched by the concern she saw in his eyes.

  “There is only one good reason I can see for ye to return to Saint Avoca’s, and that’s to take vows. I said last night that until ye could look me in the eyes and honestly say ye’ve a calling to the religious life, I would not allow ye to return to the abbey. And ye couldn’t do it. Has that changed overnight?”