The Love of Her Life (Highlander Heroes Book 6)
Page 27
She hadn’t, of course.
He’d come into their chambers the next night, while Katie was sitting before the fire. He’d met her gaze but briefly before beginning to undress for bed, tired and yet restless. When he’d stood in only his breeches and hose, she’d approached him, not without a fair amount of hesitation, had offered up the vellum wrapped and linen tied gift.
“I’d...forgotten to give you this last night,” she’d said.
Awkwardly, he’d plucked the gift from her hands, her gold wedding band then exposed, shining softly.
She’d dropped her hands, had said, “I didn’t know what to get you.” Her face was still, her gaze on the package as he’d slowly untied and unwrapped it.
Inside the sheepskin paper was a creamy cotton kerchief, embroidered quite expertly with thistle and pine cones in threads of blue and black and beige, the colors of the MacBriars. When he’d unfolded that completely, he found an inexpensive but finely tooled brooch of pewter. It was half the size of his palm and circular in shape, the metal worked into a filigree pattern, the letter M forged into the center of it.
“You had this made?” He’d asked, a bit overwhelmed by the gesture.
Katie had shaken her head. “No, this was mine. Or, I was told it was mine. I’ve...I’ve just always had it. Maybeth supposed it had belonged to my parents, thought my birth name, my surname that is, must have begun with an M.” She’d glanced up at him. “It’s not costly, I’m afraid, but...but I wanted you to have it.”
“It’s very fine. Thank you.” In turn, he’d fetched the gift he’d gotten her, having actually forgotten about it until then. And the truth of it was, that he’d tasked his mother with procuring it. That had not been done with any disinterest in what he might give her for the occasion of their wedding, but only with some hope that his mother would have a better notion about such things, as he’d certainly not had any idea.
He’d been just as surprised as her, then, when she’d opened the small wooden box to reveal a star-shaped brooch in cast bronze, which he supposed would effectively hold her cloak together sometimes. She’d smiled sweetly and had thanked him prettily, but without any great emotion.
Now as he watched Katie walk away, he wondered what kind of fool tossed away his entire coin purse simply because of the upset cause by being robbed of naught but a farthing or two.
He sighed, more frustrated with his own disappointment than anything else. He’d allowed himself to feel for her, to have hope for something he’d not ever known. Christ, who was he kidding? He’d fallen in love with Katie and was naught but a petulant child now, knowing that she wouldn’t ever return the sentiment.
He walked off, left the yard and headed for the bonemaker’s cottage, needing a new blowing horn for the training field. Mayhap he’d request a comb for Katie and offer it up as a truce, or as a token of apology for being such an unmitigated arse.
They would be fine, he decided. He’d come to terms with it. He’d come around eventually, they’d have a decent life. He wasn’t so large an arse that he would forsake all that she did offer him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Katie chased Boswell out of Agnes’s garden as she passed, scolding him to mind his manners, and headed back to the keep. She wasn’t too concerned with Ann’s fever, but would keep an eye on it, and the rest of the village, knowing very well how quickly and effectively one illness could wipe out an entire close knit group of people. She squinted up against the sun, spying Henry ambling toward her.
“I thought you’d be the entire day with Malcolm,” she said, though was pleased to have his company.
“Nae, we only stayed with the smithy all morn.” He turned and walked with her, swatting playfully at Boswell as the hound sprinted past. “The metal stuff is kinda boring. I dinna care how the swords or daggers are made. I want to learn how to use them.”
“All in good time, I’m sure.”
He grumbled. “That’s what Alec said.”
“I’m headed out and around the loch, on the far side for a bit of foraging. Want to traipse about the woods with me?”
“I guess so. Ronald and Martin are stuck helping their da’ with stuff.”
“To the keep first, though,” she directed them. “I want to change into my boots.”
Alec was inside the hall, at the head table with the laird and Edric, stacks of ledgers splayed out on the table between them. She greeted them with a smile and responded to Alec’s lifted brow without breaking stride, “Henry and I are headed out to the loch, foraging and whatnot.”
Without waiting his response, she turned into the corridor and found her way upstairs to don her heavier boots and soon rejoined Henry in the hall, smiling politely at the men once again before she and Henry took their leave.
Yesterday’s little scuffle with Alec had faded, to some degree at any rate. Or rather, she refused to give it leave to dampen her spirits yet more. And then last night he’d made love to her with greater tenderness than previously shown, had seduced and pleasured her masterfully, had actually held her throughout the night, that she knew—she was sure—they were going to be all right. She woke today with a thought that consoled her. He may not love her, but he had chosen her. That was as good a beginning as any.
Katie and Henry caroused around the north side of the loch for nearly an hour. Despite her need of certain plants and roots, she found herself easily distracted by Henry’s play, helping him turn over a huge rock to discover what might lie beneath, making a face when critters scurried out from under the rock. They investigated a thicket close by then, deciding the red deer might regularly nest here, the grass flattened in so many spots. She held Henry’s hand then, while he walked across a long and thick fallen pine, again and again until he could do it without slipping off, and faster and faster.
They paused briefly, watching a lone rider approach Swordmair, his pace furious. They turned to follow his progress, Katie shielding her gaze from the sun, as he sped by the opposite end of the loch and over the bridge. No alarm was sounded, and no soldiers spilled from the keep to meet him that Katie supposed he was naught but a speedy messenger. She’d given Alec her direction, should he in fact be someone in need of medical attention.
Eventually, she did get around to plucking plants and roots, filling her basket, while Henry and Boswell continued to frolic, so easily entertained by everything that might be discovered near and around the water.
But she and Henry both jumped to their feet when their names were shouted. Katie stepped out from the brush at the shore to see Alec racing furiously toward them on his massive destrier.
“Jesu, Katie, you scared the shite out of me,” he growled when he was close and had brought the horse to an abrupt stop. “You said by the loch!”
“I—we are by the loch,” she defended. “Alec, what has happened? What is it?”
Alec shook his head, and gave a sharp whistle, which brought Boswell ‘round again. “Get back to the keep now.”
She nodded obediently, didn’t even bother to grab her basket, but reached for Henry’s hand and they sprinted after Alec, who’d charged away as feverishly as he’d come.
Breathless by the time they reached the keep, Katie paused inside the now-bustling hall only long enough to inquire of the laird where Alec was.
“Above stairs, lass,” the laird said, quickly returning his attention to the soldiers gathered around him.
Henry had left her, insinuated himself in that circle of men, that Katie bounded up the steps and burst into their chambers.
Alec was pulling things from the trunk at the end of the bed, tossing items onto the mattress.
“What has happened?”
“A thousand English just ran through Ardmore,” he said without turning around.
Katie’s hand covered her mouth and her gasp. “But...that’s not very close to Swordmair.”
“Too close for my liking,” he said, removing his plaid and tunic and breeches.
Katie began to shak
e her head. “What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving, Katie,” he said curtly, as if the question was offensive to him, as if she should have known. “Bound to intercept them, as they’re headed north.”
She couldn’t stop him, of course, wouldn’t dare ask this warrior to not go, to leave the defense of his beloved Scotland to another.
She needed to be brave. “Tell me what to do.”
“Da’ will hold down Swordmair, as well you ken. Dinna stray, keep Henry close.”
That wasn’t what she meant. “No, what to do for you right now. What do you need?”
He shook his head. “I dinna need anything. All the logistics are being handled below stairs right now.”
Wanting—needing—to do something, Katie recovered his plaid from the bed while he donned fresh hose and his heavier wool breeches. She’d yet to learn how to properly affix the beautiful plaid to his person but she’d watched him enough that she began to fashion the pleats in one end.
Her hands shook and when he turned, dressed and ready for his plaid, she only handed it to him, could not place it over his shoulder. He didn’t care, arranged the tartan wool capably himself and then glanced around the room, chewing his lips, likely cataloging that he had all he would need.
Alec faced her then.
Katie didn’t move. She wouldn’t force an embrace on him, wasn’t sure he would welcome it. But then he strode forward and pulled her into his arms that she sagged against him. His lips touched the top of her head, his arms crushed her to him.
Katie tipped her face up to him and Alec covered her mouth with his. It was the first time he’d kissed her without the intention of making love to her. She was as heartened by this boon as she was dismayed by his imminent leave-taking.
Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around his middle and tucked her face into his shoulder. “Please be safe,” she cried. “Please come back to me.”
“Aye, it’ll be fine, Katie.” Only one of his hands touched her, low and still on her back.
Until it moved forward, likely about to push her away. Katie closed her eyes and squeezed him tighter, tears falling for her worry, not prepared for this farewell.
“I love you,” she said. She couldn’t let him leave without giving him these words.
Alec said nothing. His fingers circled one of her arms, meant to drag her off him. Katie straightened and looked up at him. “I love you, Alec.”
His jaw shifted, a muscle ticked in his cheek. “Aye, I heard. I have to go.”
A world of pain exploded inside her. He couldn’t be that cold, that cruel. He just couldn’t. She couldn’t have been so utterly and completely wrong about him.
“That’s it? I heard. Fare thee well? And off you go.”
He turned a ferocious scowl on her. “I’ll no’ fall. I’ll be back, Katie. You needn’t...say things you dinna mean, that aren’t true, simply to make this seem—”
“Things I don’t mean? Alec, I am in love with you. I’ve wanted to tell you for some time, but you’ve been so...”
“Aye, you’ve mentioned. I’m cold, aloof, and what else is beyond my ken.” The expression on her face must have matched perfectly her utter desolation, her complete shock at both his abruptness and his scathing words, that he tempered what sounded like a fairly decent rising fury to say, “I have to go now. We’ll talk when I get back.” He clamped his mouth while her lips trembled. Finally, he said, “Katie...I heard you talking to Henry about his father.”
Katie blinked. And? “I talk to Henry all the time about his father. I always have.”
As if she hadn’t spoken, he continued, “I ken you loved him greatly, that your heart....” She made to jump in, had so much to say, to correct. Alec held up his hand. “It dinna matter and that’s your business, but you have to ken, I will no’—”
“No,” she whispered. Katie stared at him, aghast. She began to shake her head. “No, you misunderstand.”
“Katie, I—”
“No,” she said, bolder now. “It was all a lie. Every word, everything I’ve ever said to Henry about his father.” Oh, thank God. She could fix this so easily.
Alec frowned, unwilling to listen. Or to believe.
Katie pounced on him, grabbing his sleeve. “Alec, I lied to him. His father was a wastrel, useless in so many regards, that I knew no tears when he died...but for what trouble it caused me, being alone then. Afraid.”
His arm went completely rigid under her fingers. “You do yourself no favors—neither of us, for these untruths now. And you do Henry’s father an injustice. We get on well enough, you and I, mostly enjoy each other, there’s no need to invent tales to make this anything more than what it is. There were reasons for us to wed, sound reasons. We needn’t have love when we have other things.”
She went slack-jawed, her hands falling away from him. “Alec, I...oh.” The dawning of understanding came with an entirely new wrenching pain. “You don’t love me.”
“As I’ve said, we’ve a good marriage, better than most, I would wager. One could say—”
She shook her head, stiffly and painfully, and straightened her spine. Lifting her chin, she said, “It’s fine.” Her hands fisted in front of her, her face void of any emotion.
“Katie.”
Lowering her gaze to the floor, she gave an unexpected and nervous laugh. “How humiliating. Pardon me for troubling you.” She cleared her throat. “I wish you Godspeed, Alec. Truly.”
She turned on her heel and left their chambers, ignoring his call to come back. She had no fear that he’d follow, possibly try to placate her with some feeble, parting words. He had a war to get to.
A quarter hour later, she watched from the nearly empty battlements as the bulk of the MacBriar army rode away from Swordmair. Alec and Malcolm led them, followed immediately by the flag-bearer, and then the rest of Alec’s officers and the remainder of the many units. Alec was tall and proud in the saddle, his short hair bouncing a bit with the jog of the horse, his shoulders broad and square. He didn’t turn at all, didn’t seek any last glimpse of Swordmair or his parents or even his wife. Katie didn’t see Elle, for which she was thankful, imagining someone—Malcolm?—must have had a hell of a time convincing her she could not join this fight, not now. Tucked behind the crenellated merlons, Katie said a quick prayer for Alec’s safe return.
She didn’t stay long, didn’t watch until they were no longer in sight. She needed to find Henry, needed to be sure he grasped what was happening, that he understood they were, here at Swordmair, safe.
BEFORE HE LED HIS ARMY into the trees, which would effectively remove Swordmair from sight, Alec turned and cast a glance over his shoulder. He’d waited too long, though, was too far now, couldn’t see the yard at this lower elevation. He ran his gaze along the ramparts. No blonde hair swayed in the wind, no bright eyes followed him.
’Twas no more than he deserved. Jesu, why would she have lied to Henry about his own father? Or, as he suspected was more likely, why would she have lied to him now? A better parting, was all he could think. People generally liked to clear the air before they said farewells.
Generally speaking, though not what he’d been about.
Bluidy hell, but every word he’d uttered, each lie he’d spewed, had burned as it left his body.
His jaw clenched repeatedly, yet tormented by her crestfallen expression, at his own unwillingness to admit what was in his heart, what he couldn’t deny to himself, but which he would disavow to her, for the sake of his goddamn pride.
Years of training and years of warring had not been futile that after a while, eventually, he was able to purge his mind of the matter of Katie. For now.
They met up with the Maitlands and McEwens after two hours, where the messenger had said to find them. Two other clan armies joined them. Immediately they compared numbers, needing to get a handle on what they could bring to the fight.
“Iain and I have two-fifty, give or take,” Lach said. “Cameron brings another hu
ndred and Chalmers adds fifty. Alec?”
“One-twenty.”
Iain said, “MacGregor and Kincaid are waiting on us, straight west of Inesfree. Us or the English, whomever they meet first.”
“We’d better move then,” Alec suggested. “MacKenna coming?”
Lach shook his head. “No response from Aviemore.”
“Where’s the king?” The young Chalmers laird asked.
“North,” Lach said. “Mayhap out on Skye.”
They discussed only a bare strategy, knowing they did need to move quickly. And the next several hours saw a united Highland band of over five-hundred soldiers galloping wildly across the craigs and meadows and hills, leaving thunderous clouds of noise and dust in their wake.
They met up with Conall MacGregor and Gregor Kincaid, which added several hundred to their numbers then. Alec had spent time with Kincaid in the spring though hadn’t seen MacGregor in years. But if he were going into battle, Jesu, but these were solid men and armies to have at his side.
They greeted each other sparingly, knowing the longer they rested, the more ground the English would gain. Conall informed them, “We’d had some intelligence in the last few weeks they might try to make headway up north, so we’d put some scouts around, half dozen here and there.”
Gregor Kincaid added, “This Edward is no Longshanks, tucked tail and skittered on back to England fairly quickly, so we imagine they’re only testing the water, so to speak.”
“Aye,” said Lach, “but let’s no’ give them any ground lest they decide to stay. They take one castle large enough, you ken it’ll only invite more.”
“As it is,” Conall continued, “scouts put them last at Ardmore, as you ken. But that was yesterday. They could be further north.”
“Split in two,” Alec suggested. “Come at ’em from both sides. They’ll want to stay by water, but from Ardmore they have to go through the glen between Ardgay and Kincardine.”
Iain nodded. “That’s half a day to get through there with a thousand men. They can’t have advanced further so soon.”