by Terry Spear
“Ye saved her.”
“Aye. MacNabb was closer, so I brought her here. She also hopes for a grand adventure, Groa, though not the kind ye have before ye.”
“Will ye marry her?”
“What? Nay. ’Tisna like that.” Was it? Why did he feel a strange fluttering in his chest at the thought of her?
“What will her father think?” Keenan’s voice among the higher pitched tones of his sister and youngest brothers startled him.
“I dinna ken. She said she wouldna be missed. While I doubt that, with a half-lame mount, I had little choice but to bring her here.”
“Have ye seen the bairn?” the youngest brother asked.
“Aye, I saw her first, when I arrived. A fine lass, she is.”
Keenan stood. “Speaking of my daughter, I think I’ll go check on her. Ye lot take good care of our brother.”
A chorus of ayes and laughter followed him as he left the chamber. Groa turned to the lads. “Ye lads, go on with ye, too. I wish to speak to Gavan.”
Grumbling, they did as she bade. When they were alone, she took the seat Keenan had vacated. Gavan sat down again. “What worries ye, Groa?”
“Keenan, of course. I’ve been keeping an eye on him, but once I leave, ye must. He was, for a time, inconsolable in his grief. He’s only lately begun to return to himself.”
“Does he care for the bairn?”
“Aye, but ye should ken Fenella is spending a great deal of time with her...and Keenan.”
“She was taking the bairn to the wet-nurse when I arrived. We...spoke...but we didna have the reunion I’d imagined.”
“I’m no’ surprised.” She smoothed her skirt, then caught his gaze. “Ye will decide on yer own whether ye still have any feelings for her. But I may as well be the one to tell ye…she’s truly ambitious for more than she’ll have with ye.” She paused, then sighed. “Gavan, she’s good to him, and, I think, good for him. Despite any feelings ye might still harbor for her, ye must take care of Keenan. Father puts a lot of pressure on his heir to learn all he can. He has not relented since Keenan’s wife died. Perhaps Da thinks he’s helping by forcing Keenan to face his responsibilities, but it wears on him. I can see it. That, combined with his grief, and the bairn, whom I’m certain he loves, but who reminds him constantly of his dead wife, is taking a toll.”
Gavan was still trying to absorb what Groa had said about Fenella’s ambitions and her effect on Keenan. But he could not miss the concern in Groa’s voice for their oldest brother. “He seems tired.”
“He is tired. And heartsore, and joyful over the bairn, and confused. Keenan needs more time to adjust. Yer arrival will add to his guilt, because of Fenella.”
Gavan didn’t want to tell anyone he’d decided to reject Fenella. Not yet. Not until he told Fenella. “Have ye talked to Da? Or to Mother?”
“Mother willna contradict anything Da says. And, as I said, Da thinks he’s doing the best thing for his heir. Maybe he’s right, but it’s hard on Keenan.”
“I’ll spend more time with him. And I’ll talk to Father. Perhaps he’ll listen to me if he thinks I see Keenan with fresh eyes.” He paused a beat. “I hope I havena also brought trouble by bringing Marsali here. Short of risking another attack by carrying her back to Murray, there was little I could do.”
“Do ye care for her?”
“Only as a pesky younger sister.” He grinned and his sister grinned back. But his expression quickly sobered. Was that true? He pictured Marsali at the standing stones, weaving her bluebell chain, full of hope, then as he rode away the first time, holding Corrie back, her eyes damp with dashed dreams. How badly had he hurt her?
“Many things have changed at MacNabb since ye left,” Groa told him, breaking in on his thoughts. “Perhaps that will, as well.”
***
The next morning, everything seemed clearer. He knew he needed to put an end to whatever had existed with Fenella, especially to what little might remain, immediately. There was no reason to wait. After what Groa had told him, it was also clear Fenella had given up on him, just as he had grown beyond her.
He found her in the great hall watching as Keenan took his daughter away, a wistful smile on her face. Then she saw him and her smile went away. Had she forgiven him for their encounter when he arrived? Even before he reached her, she had looked him up and down.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said and her hug said she approved of the changes the past two years had wrought in his body. He was bigger, stronger, more mature. But none of that mattered.
He set her away from him. “It’s time we talked,” he told her, his tone not unfriendly, but firm.
She started, her apologetic smile instantly changing to a smooth mask. He directed her to a seat near the hearth as the hall cleared of people bound to their chores. When they were private, he pinned her with his gaze, determined to do what he must to make her see him differently. “What are ye up to with Keenan?”
She opened her mouth. Aye, he’d surprised her. From the frown furrowing her brows, Gavan got the strong sense she intended to deny her interest in his brother. Then she sighed and lowered her gaze, smoothing her skirt, before she spoke. “Ye were gone so long, I didna ken whether ye would ever come back. And after...well, Keenan grieved so, I felt sorry for him.”
“As did the rest of the unattached lasses in the clan, I imagine. But ye decided ye’d rather be lady of the clan than the wife of a middle son.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I canna deny it. In the time ye’ve been gone, I’ve learned for me that’s no’ enough.” She met his gaze, her expression earnest. “I did care for ye, Gavan, all those years. I still do.”
That was the last thing he wanted to hear from her. “What kind of wife do ye think to make Keenan, if ye still lust after his brother?”
“I dinna!” She held up her hands, palms forward, then clenched them together. “I’m curious, that’s all. Ye’ve changed in the time ye were gone. Ye seem more...sure of yerself. Harder.”
Gavan crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly aware of the muscles that were not there the last time she’d seen him, two years before. “War does that to a man.”
“I’m sorry. Truly. Where did ye fight?”
“I didna stop ye to talk about that.” He uncrossed his arms and leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “I am home now, so ye must leave off thinking of me as anything other than family. If ye love Keenan, if ye wish to be his wife, ye must never look upon me. Ye must dedicate yerself to him and forget I am anything to ye other than his brother.”
“I ken it.” She frowned and shook her head. “But the two of ye represent two futures before me. Now ye are here, I dinna ken which to choose.”
Gavan clenched his teeth. “My brother has suffered more than enough grief. Ye canna wish to hurt him again.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. As much as her equivocation made him want to shout, he knew a show of temper would not help. Instead, he lowered his voice again. “He relies on ye, he cares enough for ye to entrust ye with his daughter. If he has spoken of his feelings for ye, dinna think to betray him. No’ with me or any other man.” He narrowed his eyes and pinned her with his gaze. “I willna do that to him. No’ for ye or any other lass.”
Her eyes welled up even as she bristled. “Ye are making my choice for me,” she bit out.
“Perhaps that’s needful.”
She covered her face with her hands, then dropped them into her lap. “Aye, perhaps it is. But what of ye? I canna choose one of ye without hurting the other.”
“Who do ye love, Fenella?” Gavan’s jaw clenched. “Or what do ye love?” She still seemed to refuse to understand him. “I’ll be blunt. Are ye ambitious to be the clan’s lady, as ye said, or simply Keenan’s wife? Either way, ye dinna want me.” Could he tell her he’d made his decision about her before he’d even returned home? Nay, he did not mean to hurt her, but to let her go to Keenan with a clear conscience.
“Y
e want to be free of me, so ye can have that lass ye brought with ye.”
That made him draw back. Was she right? Because of Marsali, he didn’t mind losing Fenella to Keenan? He hoped he was not so shallow. “Nay, Fenella. ’Tis my way of caring for my brother. And ye, for whatever used to be between us. I think ye have made yer choice, whether or no’ ye wish to say it aloud. Ye stand with my brother and his bairn. Ye alone. No’ his sister, no’ his mother, no’ any other lass. Admit it, Fenella, to me and to yerself. For Keenan’s sake, and for yers, ye must.”
Her chin trembled. “Perhaps I will choose neither of ye.”
Gavan flinched, picturing the effect that would have on his brother, but he’d already said all he could. “That is up to ye.”
“Ye have returned to us without yer heart,” she announced, standing. “Or with a heart turned to stone. Ye should be begging me to remain yers, yet here ye sit, trying to convince me to wed yer brother. Ye claim the lass ye brought home means nothing to ye. While ye were away, what happened to the Gavan I once kenned?”
That was a question he had no intention of answering. Instead, he told her, “I learned what...and who...was important to me.”
“And I am no’.”
Gavan stood. “No’ in the way ye once were. Think on what ye mean to do.”
“Ye think I havena?”
He pursed his lips. “Nay, I ken ye have. Just be sure ye decide with yer heart and yer head.
Chapter 4
The confrontation with Fenella put him on edge, but a foul mood did not release him from his duty as host to the guest he had brought home. Guest? Or more? Did Fenella know him better than he knew himself? Nay, his feelings for Marsali would change only if he let them, and he had no intention of falling for her. Instead, he’d show her life at MacNabb was much like life at Murray. Once she understood, she might be willing to return home sooner rather than later. He could only hope her father would believe she remained untouched.
Corrie answered his knock with a woof before Marsali could open the door. The hound was a problem. Protective of her mistress, aye, but also seemingly determined to throw them together. Gavan shook his head. Now, there was a silly thought. A matchmaking deerhound.
But when Marsali opened the door, all thought fled. She stood before him, her bearing proud, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Have ye come to show me yer keep? I canna wait to see all of it.”
Something about her drew him in, familiar and yet unknown. She was so lovely, her smile so welcoming he wanted to reach out a hand to cup her face, to hear her laugh just before he kissed her, then tangle his fingers in her hair. He swallowed around a catch in his throat. Ach, where had that come from? He reined in his unruly longings. “Aye, I have. Come on, then. Ye, too, Corrie.”
Corrie trotted out ahead of them. Gavan led Marsali around the keep and the village, from the great hall to the kitchen, from the stable to the blacksmith, all the while fully, even painfully, aware of the heat and the scent of her beside him. With the sweet tinkle of her laughter and the velvety allure of her voice as she greeted the people he introduced her to, he had to keep reminding himself his purpose was to convince her to go home. Soon. But the more time he spent with her, the less certain he was of his goal.
At the kennels, the MacNabb hounds stood to greet them, but Marsali’s bright mood dimmed. “Ye keep yer deerhounds in these small cages?”
“Aye, of course. How else would ye keep them from running wild? They must be rested and ready to hunt.”
“They need room to run or they’ll…sour. They’ll no’ do what the hunt-master demands. Look, those young ones are chewing on the posts. They do that if they’re bored. Ye must find ways to keep them active, or they will never obey.”
Gavan glanced at the hound by her side. Corrie’s sharp eyes darted from one MacNabb hound to another. “Like Corrie? She obeys ye so well.”
Marsali frowned. “I’ve told ye, she’s only like that around ye. I ken these dogs, and I ken how to improve the lot of yers.”
Gavan didn’t respond. How could he? Her claim was unproven. Nay…refuted by the behavior of her own pet.
“Let me talk to their keeper. Let me work with them while I’m here. Ye can be sure ye will see them improve.”
Gavan shook his head, though her enthusiasm charmed him. Could she really do as she claimed? “Ye may talk to anyone ye please. Whether they will take yer advice is up to them.” If she really wanted to help, he thought, she’d leave Corrie long enough to have a litter with a MacNabb sire, but he kept that to himself, as well.
He led her from the kennels to the kitchen garden, greeting people they passed, then on to his mother’s flower garden. The welcome Marsali received pleased him, as did the welcome home greetings directed his way—not that he expected any less from the people of his clan.
Marsali wisely called Corrie to heel in the gardens, earning Gavan’s gratitude. He did not want to have to explain to his mother how he’d allowed the giant deerhound to destroy any of her flowers. They settled on a bench in a sunny spot. Corrie stretched out at their feet, sighed contentedly, and put her head on her paws.
“Now ye are here,” Gavan said, “are ye glad ye came? Have ye seen enough? I must soon return ye to your father. He’ll be worried.”
A brief shadow of a frown passed over her face, quickly replaced by a smile. “I am glad I came. And glad to see yer keep and yer clan. But I’ve yet to meet yer family.”
“Ye will at the next meal.” He hoped the introductions would go well. With Groa’s impending handfasting and departure, his parents were busy and emotions were running high. Marsali’s presence might be one disruption too many for his mother.
Marsali’s shoulders rose, then fell before she replied, “That’s…good.”
Did she suddenly sound just a bit uncertain?
“Ye’ll find them much the same as any family, just as this keep is much the same as any keep.”
“Perhaps.” She turned to face him, her expression endearingly earnest. “But they are no’ my family. This is no’ my keep. Ye canna understand how trapped I felt at home.” She pointed beyond the garden’s wall. “The horizon was always there, just out of reach. Now I’ve gone beyond it, I’m eager to ken what else there is in the world.”
“More of the same?”
“Nay. Do ye no’ see it? This keep is filled with faces I dinna ken. New people to meet. New stories to hear. New friends to make. I can look at someone and no’ immediately ken everything about them. Who they are. What they’ve done in the past. How they’ll react to me.”
“I find those things comforting.”
“Because ye have been away for years. For me, they are my entire life and stifle me. At Murray, my life lacks possibility…hope, even.” She spread her hands, palms up. “Here, I can have both.”
Her words sent a chill down Gavan’s back, yet warmed him at the same time. He looked around him, trying to see the keep through her eyes. Though he’d only just returned, he took so much for granted. The color of the stone, the presence of people who cared about him, his place among his brothers and sister. What if he’d never left? Never seen anything but the area nearby? How small would his world be? He couldn’t picture it, but the idea unsettled him, making his stomach sink.
As much as seeing the world called to him, he still loved this place and these people. “After a time, ye would miss yer home, I think.”
“Perhaps, but that doesna mean I would want to go back forever. There is nothing for me there. No one. Despair drove me to the stones and my silly attempt to rhyme a love spell. It may not have worked as I intended.” She turned to him with an impish grin. “Yet, here I am. With ye.”
He wanted to grin back at her, but he wasn’t sure encouraging her fancy would be wise. “Ye did that. Ye and stubborn Corrie. And two bandits. No’ a spell. Ye mustna pin yer hopes on me, Marsali. Fenella…”
Her face fell. “Will never marry ye.”
He recoiled, a frown drawing
down his brow. “How could ye ken that?”
Marsali shrugged. “I dinna. I just believe if she truly loved ye, she wouldha been thrilled to see ye. She wouldha run to ye, despite the bairn in her arms.”
“But she didna.” The memory of their encounters since he’d returned sat like a stone in the bottom of his belly. That and the thought of what she had come to mean to his grieving brother. Even if he still wanted Fenella, he could not be the one to cause Keenan even more pain.
She smiled sadly and shook her head. “Nay, she didna.”
But Marsali had. She’d ridden for hours, hoping to console Corrie—and to find him. After so short an acquaintance, how deep did her affections for him run? Or was he simply a means to an end? A way for her to have the adventure she craved?
A young lad ran into the garden, calling his name.
“Gavan, yer mother is asking for ye.”
Gavan stood. “I’ll come.”
The lad nodded and moved aside, gazing at Marsali. “Enjoy the garden,” Gavan told her. “I won’t be long. I’ll come back to return ye to yer chamber.”
“Take yer time,” Marsali told him. “This is a pleasant spot.” She smiled at the lad. “And I seem to have a new friend.”
He left her with the lad, Corrie at her feet, and her face turned to the sun. By the time he returned, things were very different. The lad who’d fetched him sat at her feet with Corrie, along with a gaggle of bairns. The sound of sweet, young voices filled the air. Gavan paused in the garden gate, watching. She was teaching the bairns a song.
She’d sing a line, they’d sing it back, then break into giggles until she sang the next. Gavan watched, transfixed, as she wooed the children of the clan. Her light and lilting voice sounded much as it had at the standing stones, only then, it had held a touch of sadness. Now, her voice filled with laughter, giving a happy lift to each note she sang. Her eyes sparkled and the children responded with enthusiasm. Gavan’s whole opinion of her changed in that moment. Aye, she might not agree, but to him, this was more magical than anything she’d attempted at the stones.
