‘A thousand times I’ve wondered if I made the right decision. I left him there and swore I’d return for him. I risked his life on that. I didn’t know if they would carry out their threat or not, but if I didn’t leave, we were both dead.
‘They let him go, because they had to chase after me.’ He expelled a breath. ‘I ran for the next two days, until I came to Ballaloch.’
When he’d finished, he expected her to pull away. He expected to see disappointment or revulsion in her eyes at his cowardice. Instead, she told him, ‘It’s not your fault. And I know you’re going to free him.’
He stared at her. ‘I can’t forgive myself for abandoning him.’ With his hand, he traced the soft skin of her neck. ‘I have to find him, Nairna.’
He let her go, not wanting her pity. Nor did he want to know what she thought of him now.
‘Are you certain about this?’ Laren asked. She held on to the leather-wrapped glass oval as though it were her firstborn child. ‘I don’t think they’ll want it.’
‘They’re building a new kirk in Inveriston,’ Nairna reassured her. ‘Your glass windows will be the envy of every priest in the Highlands.’
‘And what if it’s not good enough?’ Laren looked dismayed when Nairna gently took the glass from her.
‘Your glass will inspire the monks,’ Lady Marguerite insisted. ‘It deserves to be part of the abbey.’
Although Laren still appeared unconvinced, Nairna hid the leather package within her cloak and went to where Dougal was waiting.
‘Can you be back by nightfall?’ she demanded.
‘Easily.’ The young man looked irritated that she’d even asked such a question. ‘It’s not that far to the parish.’
Nairna passed him the wrapped window, hoping that her plan would work. ‘Demand seventy pennies, and when he offers twenty, take the glass and start to ride away. He’ll come up in his offer after that.’ She drilled into Dougal the right asking price, inwardly praying that he wouldn’t come home with the wrong amount.
‘I’ll bring it back,’ he promised.
‘If I can rely on you, you can have the foal that my mare Anteria is carrying, after it’s born.’
Dougal brightened and she suspected he would move the sky above them in order to sell the glass. ‘By nightfall,’ he repeated.
‘Don’t let it break,’ Laren pleaded. And when he’d gone, she looked as if she wanted to chase after him and snatch it back. ‘It will be all right, won’t it?’
‘The abbot will want more after he’s seen this one,’ Nairna predicted. ‘Can you make them?’
‘Of course.’
Laren’s shoulders lowered and Nairna stopped to link arms. ‘Don’t be afraid. You have talent and I believe in you.’
The woman offered a faint smile, though she still appeared nervous. ‘I hope he gets a good price for it.’
Marguerite took Laren’s other arm in a show of support. ‘He will.’
The house was now finished, and Bram stood back to look at it. Though it was well after dark, the men had lit torches, working together until the last segment of thatch covered the roof.
Tonight he would sleep beneath his own roof, with his wife. He’d even constructed a bed frame for Nairna and Alex had arranged for the mattress to be brought from the grain hut.
She might not want to be anywhere near him, after what he’d confessed about Callum. When he stared at the bed, he half-wondered if he’d be sleeping on the floor.
The slight noise of women approaching made him turn. Bram saw Laren and her daughters, along with Lady Marguerite and Nairna. When his wife drew closer, he stilled at the sight of her.
She wore a kirtle and matching surcoat of green silk embroidered with pearls. Her dark hair was braided back from her face, with a few long strands covering her shoulders. A small embroidered cap covered her hair with a trailing veil. The gown was one he’d never seen before—it clung to her body, outlining every curve. Her breasts filled up the fabric, and he could see the plump outline of them within the silk.
She was wearing one of Lady Marguerite’s gowns; he was sure of it. And though it pleased him that she’d made an effort to cast aside one of the shapeless, grey gowns she usually wore, it bothered him that she didn’t have a gown of her own of that quality.
‘Nairna,’ he greeted her.
She moved towards him slowly, with her dog trailing her. In her hands she held a drinking horn. Her lips parted and her green eyes were soft in the firelit torches. Bram tried to take the horn from her, but she refused to let go. Instead, she opened it for him, lifting it to his mouth as she offered him a drink.
The ale was cool, as if it had been kept underground. After the day’s hard labour, nothing could have tasted sweeter. She let him drink his fill; when he’d had enough, she took the horn away.
‘Do you like your house?’ he asked.
She nodded, raising her eyes to look at the new structure. ‘I’m glad they were able to finish it tonight.’ Then she sent him a slight smile, before leaving him to stare at the sway of her hips as she returned to the others.
The way she spoke made him wonder if she had plans for this night. His thoughts filled up with ideas of everything he wanted to do to his wife beneath their own roof. The memory of the taste of her skin, the soft sighs she made when he touched her, was enough to send his desire raging.
The women opened up the bundles of food to share, but Nairna didn’t join him. Instead, she stood at a distance, watching him from the shadows. He ate the venison stew that was passed around; although it tasted delicious, his attention was centred upon Nairna.
She moved among the others, thanking each of the men for their labour on the house. A few of them sent her smiles that were a little too friendly, and Bram stood up, joining her. He shadowed her, letting the other MacKinlochs know that Nairna was his. Possessive, aye, but they didn’t need to be staring at his wife.
‘What are you doing, Bram?’ she asked, after she’d spoken to the last person.
‘Protecting you.’
She raised an eyebrow at him, but he took her hand anyway. ‘I hardly think that’s necessary.’
‘They’re going to leave us,’ he said darkly. ‘As soon as they’ve finished eating.’
Nairna gave a faint shrug. ‘Did you see Dougal among the others?’ Though she kept her tone casual, he caught a note of worry in her voice.
‘No.’ Bram had been so busy with the building, he hadn’t really thought about Dougal. But his brother should have been there. ‘And why would you be so concerned about him?’
‘No reason.’ She shrugged, but her eyes were searching. They settled upon Laren, who also looked uneasy.
They were hiding something, and he didn’t like secrets being kept from him. ‘Nairna, what is this about? Where is my brother?’
Nairna sat down upon a tree stump, beckoning for her dog Caen to approach. The animal trotted forwards, settling at her feet like a faithful shadow. Bram recognised it as the distraction it was meant to be. He covered her hand with his own, upon the dog’s head.
‘Nairna, tell me.’ It was a demand, not a request.
‘He—he went to Inveriston.’ She scratched Caen’s ears, and the dog rolled onto his back, licking at her hand. ‘Several hours ago.’
‘Alone?’
She nodded, clutching her hands together. ‘He said he could be there within an hour. He knew where it was and promised to be back by nightfall.’
Bram released a stream of expletives. What in the name of God had she been thinking?
‘He’s four and ten, Nairna. Not a man. And he’s certainly not old enough to go anywhere alone.’ Bram stood up, his fury threatening to spill over. By God, he wasn’t about to lose another brother to the English. Not because of any foolish attempt to earn money.
Nairna caught up and tugged at his sleeve, ‘Bram, wait. He might have been delayed. There’s no reason to think that he’s not all right.’
‘There are dozens of E
nglish soldiers patrolling the lands only a few miles from here,’ Bram shot back. ‘Any number of them would be glad to have a MacKinloch hostage.’ He couldn’t believe she’d done this. His brother wasn’t a damned merchant.
When he reached Alex, he let out a terse order. ‘Come with me. We’re going to find Dougal.’
Alex’s attention snapped to Nairna. ‘What’s happened?’
Bram tilted his head towards Laren. ‘Ask your wife.’
Nairna and Laren exchanged glances and Laren was the one who paled, keeping her eyes averted from Alex.
‘Where is Dougal?’ Alex demanded.
Laren eyed Nairna with desperation, but finally answered, ‘He went to Inveriston to sell some things that Nairna and I gave him.’
‘What sort of things?’ The chief stared at the pair of women and Bram recognised the concealed anger in his expression.
‘Some…things we made,’ Nairna answered. She looked at Bram, her eyes wild with pleading. She didn’t want him to tell Alex anything. ‘This is my fault. I apologise for putting Dougal in danger. I didn’t think anything could happen near the parish kirk.’
Alex’s chin snapped up. ‘Do you think he’s been taken?’
Bram shook his head. ‘I don’t know. But we need to search for him now, before anyone else finds him.’ The two stood up, then Alex gave the order for a search party to form. The men gathered weapons and torches and Bram was just about to leave when he cast a look back at Nairna.
Her cheeks were pale, her eyes filled with regret. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘I thought we could earn a ransom for Callum with the things we sold.’
He supposed she hadn’t thought of all the consequences. But her naïvety might cost them his brother’s life. Without another word, he turned his back on her and left.
Chapter Sixteen
The house was unbearably dark and cold, but Nairna didn’t dare to light a fire. Her breath formed mist inside and she huddled beneath a woollen blanket left behind. Caen rested at her feet, his head lying on top of folded paws.
It had been hours since the men had left and she’d long ago dried her tears. She’d never meant for Dougal to be lost or hurt. Aye, it was her mistake, believing that the young man could go alone to Inveriston.
Fear tightened through every muscle in her body. If anything had happened to Dougal, Bram would hold her responsible. Her fragile marriage would crumble away until there was nothing left.
She’d hoped that tonight she could rebuild something between them. Marguerite had loaned her a gown while Laren had dressed her hair. It had been so long since she’d looked after her own appearance, but before they’d begun, Jenny had shown her a reflection in a polished mirror.
Nairna hadn’t known she looked like this—like a wraith, dressed in grey as though she’d never left mourning. It was no wonder that Bram questioned what she wore. No man would want a woman who neglected herself in such a way.
Nairna drew her knees up under her gown. It had taken both Jenny and Marguerite to help her put it on, it fitted her so tightly. She couldn’t take it off without Bram’s help and she didn’t even know when he was coming back. Or if he would return.
She had stared at the door for what seemed like hours, her eyes dry, while her heart grew more fearful. And when, at last, the door swung open, she nearly jerked with shock when Bram tossed a large sack at her feet. It was filled with coins, from the metallic jingle she’d heard. Yet her husband didn’t look at all pleased.
‘Is Dougal all right?’ she asked.
‘He’s back at Glen Arrin, where Alex is meting out his punishment.’
‘Punishment?’ Appalled, she couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping open. ‘But we asked him to go. It wasn’t his fault at all.’
‘He was foolish enough to let himself be led astray by women. Aye, it’s his fault.’
Nairna stood up, her temper flaring. ‘Don’t you dare lay a hand upon him. He did as we asked, and from the looks of it, he did well enough.’ She kicked at the sack of coins, sending it a few feet away. ‘It might pay the price of Callum’s life.’
‘The coins are false,’ her husband gritted out. ‘Hardly worth the stones at our feet.’
A rushing noise filled her ears, and Nairna forced herself to sit down. False? What did he mean?
Bram loosened the ties of the bag and withdrew a handful of silver pennies. He poured them into her palm, and she could feel, from the light weight, that they were indeed false. At the bottom of the sack she found useless bits of iron.
It made her sick to think of the priests trying to cheat Laren’s artistry. Her beautiful glass was now gone and Dougal’s efforts were for nothing at all. Nairna wanted to lash out at the unfairness, but what good would it do?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought it would help you.’
Her husband’s grim expression made her feel even worse. She lowered her gaze, not knowing what else to say.
‘We found Dougal a few miles east of the abbey,’ Bram said. ‘He was getting ready to set up camp for the night.’
‘He wasn’t hurt, was he?’
Bram shook his head. ‘No. But you never should have sent him. I ordered you not to get involved.’
His arrogance and refusal to listen was starting to wear down her patience. ‘I don’t regret sending the goods to be sold. I only wish they hadn’t cheated him.’
‘There was no need for the ransom,’ Bram continued. ‘We’ll fight for Callum.’ He leaned against the wall beside the door, his hand reaching back to unstrap the claymore from his shoulders.
‘Do you know where he is now?’ Nairna asked, noticing the change in his face.
‘Aye. The last messenger returned an hour ago, and told us where he was taken. We’re going after him tomorrow.’
‘Where?’ she managed. ‘Who took him?’
‘Robert Fitzroy, the Baron of Harkirk.’
Nairna clamped her mouth shut, unable to believe it. Harkirk’s fortress was one of the strongest in the Highlands, thanks to her father’s bribery.
‘Then we have a common enemy.’ She explained what her father had done to avoid bloodshed. ‘They’re bleeding the MacPhersons dry to fund their soldiers.’
Bram stared at her, with no mercy in his eyes. ‘Not for long.’
He pushed the door open, stepping past the sleeping dog, and returned to the outdoor hearth the men had built earlier. The fire had died down to hot coals and Bram picked up a staff the width of his wrist. He used it to push several of the hearth stones inside their home, and when he closed the door behind him, Nairna could feel the radiant heat rising from the stones.
Even so, it did nothing to ward off the coldness surrounding Bram’s demeanour. She doubted if an apology would change his anger, but she had to try. ‘I never meant for anything to happen to Dougal.’
Bram seemed to be holding his temper back with the greatest effort. ‘It’s not as safe around Glen Arrin as you might believe, Nairna. We’re lucky to have found him.’
She gave a nod; it seemed that he was trying to press down even more guilt upon her. Aye, she’d made a mistake, believing it was a simple matter of taking the glass to be sold. But now that they possessed a sack full of false coins, she realised that they had a different sort of opportunity. It was a chance to ransom Callum and lose little, from a monetary standpoint.
‘Take the coins with you in the morning,’ she advised. ‘Lord Harkirk might not notice that they’re false until it’s too late.’
‘Why do you insist upon offering a ransom, Nairna?’ he demanded. ‘Don’t you believe us capable of bringing him back?’
Nairna heard the stiff pride in his tone and suddenly, she was tired of arguing about whether or not he was strong enough to fight.
‘It doesn’t matter if you are or not,’ she answered honestly. ‘If there’s another way to rescue Callum, why wouldn’t you try it?’ She moved towards him and his cheek twitched when she stood before him. ‘Would it threaten you
r honour so much?’
He didn’t answer and she realised that she’d struck a nerve. Though she didn’t know whether or not he could fight, she’d just as soon avoid it when possible.
‘If we ransom Callum with false coins, I’d consider that justice. Harkirk deserves to be cheated.’ To her mind, it would help Bram get his brother back and keep the men out of harm’s way.
‘I don’t play games with men’s lives.’ Bram’s dark eyes narrowed. ‘The risk is too great.’
Nairna wished he would stop being so stubborn and consider a way of freeing Callum without bloodshed. ‘And you don’t think about the risk of death? Someone will get hurt or killed if you try to fight them. Why wouldn’t you want to try it?’
He moved past her, ignoring her suggestion. ‘Because we’re not like your father, paying for men’s lives.’
Nairna had no answer for that. She’d once blamed her father for surrendering without a fight. She’d hated the thought of paying the English, arguing with him constantly about his loose way with coins. Had she changed her opinion so much, in these past few weeks?
Aye, she had. And it had everything to do with the man standing before her.
‘I don’t want you to be hurt,’ she whispered. ‘Or killed.’
Bram removed his shoes and she heard the rustle of his tunic falling to the ground. It had grown so dark, she couldn’t guess whether he was wearing all of his clothes or not. She closed her eyes, warming her hands near the heated stones. A shiver broke through her at the thought of sharing a mattress with a man who despised her so much.
But he returned to her, his hand catching hold of hers. ‘I’ve been training for weeks now, Nairna. I won’t bother trying to convince you that I can fight.’
He pressed her palms to his chest and she could indeed feel the changes. No longer was he thin and wiry; she could feel the outline of new muscles in the rise and fall of his lungs.
When she reached his stomach, the ridges ended at the waist of his trews.
‘I know you can fight,’ she murmured. ‘I simply don’t want you to.’ This wasn’t about trust in his abilities. It was the unsettling fear that if Bram left her in the morning, he wouldn’t come back alive. She knew Lord Harkirk and the large numbers of men who defended his motte. They would be slaughtered within minutes, if Harkirk learned why they were there.
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