A Wee Highland Predicament: A Duncurra Legacy Novel

by Ceci Giltenan

  “Ye know nothing about this and I’ll thank ye to keep yer opinions to yerself.”

  William should have known better than to think that would stop her.

  “Actually, William, I know quite a lot about it. One of my brothers is in training with Laird MacPherson. According to him, Laird MacPherson wanted Lucas to stay and serve as one of his guardsmen and he almost never does that. As I hear it, Lucas is an outstanding warrior. My brother practically idolizes him. When my betrothal to Robert was announced, my brother told Da he’d picked the wrong Grant.” At Robert’s affronted look, Emily caressed his cheek and said, “He didn’t darling. I love ye.” Turning her attention back to William she said, “So Lucas went from being a highly respected member of MacPherson’s garrison, where he was responsible for training others, to here, where it’s a wonder ye let him pick his own clothes.”

  “Emily, now ye’re being impertinent,” said Robert.

  Now? She’d been impertinent from the day she arrived at Castle Grant.

  “Oh, stop, Robert. Ye know I’m right. Ye’ve all but said so yerself.”

  William looked pointedly at his brother. “Is that true, Robert?”

  “Well, aye, it is. And in fairness, I have tried to talk to ye about it. I’ve suggested a few duties ye might want to give Lucas but each time ye disagreed with me.”

  “He’s young and inexperienced,” said William.

  Nina rested her hand on William’s shoulder. “My darling, I fear ye’re the only one who thinks that. Ye’ve suggested before that the trouble between the two of ye is because of the way ye treated him when ye were a lairdly arse at the tender age of ten and eight. But I’ve also told ye, I don’t think that’s the case. He knows ye’ve matured into a good leader. I think ye’re the one who refuses to see that he has as well.”

  “If ye treat a capable, grown man like a green lad, at some point, he’s going to act like one,” said Emily, as if it wasn’t already painfully obvious to William.

  He heaved a sigh. “Do any of ye know what he intended to speak to me about?”

  Nina gave a small shake of her head. “He didn’t say anything specific, but I’m fairly certain it had something to do with Ailsa MacLennan.”

  “Aye, that’s apparent now.” For the first time in many years, William felt helpless. “What am I going to do? There isn’t a chance in hell that the MacLennans will just let him return home—even if he did save Ailsa from the Galbraiths. Just as we held her hostage, they’ll hold him.”

  “Where are we going to get the funds to pay a ransom?” asked Robert.

  “I could ask my da,” offered Emily.

  “Or ye could ask Laird MacPherson,” said Robert. “Maybe if ye agreed to let Lucas become one of his guardsmen as he wanted, he’ll help.”

  William didn’t want to ask Laird Chattan or Laird MacPherson for help and he certainly didn’t want Lucas to go back to the MacPhersons. “I don’t want to lose him, Robert.” He turned to his sister-in-law and said, “Emily, ye’re offer is kind. I appreciate it more than ye can know. As much as I hate to ask yer da for the ransom money, I will if I have to. I’ll do whatever it takes to get him back, but I’d like to talk to Fingal MacLennan first.”

  “How do ye propose to do that?” asked Robert. “Will ye send him a message or will ye wait until his messenger comes with the ransom demand?”

  “Neither,” said William. “I am going to ride to Brathanead myself, under a white flag.”

  “That’s too risky,” said Robert. “They could simply ignore the white flag and take ye and yer men as well.”

  “I suppose that’s always possible, but I don’t think they will. Most people who know him think Fingal MacLennan is honorable. He might not wish to parlay with me, but he won’t ignore the white flag. But I’ll take a large enough contingent to defend ourselves if we must.”

  “We’ll go tomorrow?” asked Robert.

  “I’ll go tomorrow,” said William. “Even though I don’t think it will be too great a risk, I can’t be certain and I won’t risk giving the MacLennans all three Grant brothers.”

  Chapter 17

  After her sisters left, Ailsa had curled up in her own bed and slept, waking in the early afternoon. She wanted to see Lucas but felt certain if she asked for permission the answer would be nay.

  But sometimes it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

  Perhaps, after she reached the great hall, if she just walked purposefully to the cellar stairs, she could go down, unnoticed. So she dressed quickly and went downstairs.

  It had been a vain hope. The midday meal was ending and the hall was filled with people.

  Before Ailsa could take more than a step inside, her friend Maeve MacBain spotted her. She squealed, ran to Ailsa and hugged her. “Oh, Ailsa, I heard ye’d come home. I was so worried about ye. Are ye all right?”

  Ailsa smiled and returned her hug. “Aye, I’m well.”

  By this time both Fallon and Gillian had seen her as well.

  “You look like ye had a good rest,” said Fallon.

  “Aye, ye do,” agreed Gillian. “Come, sit at the table and have a bite to eat before everything is cleared away.”

  “I’ll sit with ye while ye eat,” said Maeve.

  Ailsa smiled and walked to the table. “I will eat but I’d like to take something to Lucas first.”

  Gillian shook her head. “Nay, Ailsa. I’ve already had a tray sent down to him. Eat yer own dinner now.”

  “Gillie, he was so kind to me—”

  Gillian crossed her arms over her chest. “Ye are not going to the dungeon. Not until Fingal has decided what’s to be done, but until then, I don’t want the two of ye together.”

  Ailsa had never heard Gillian sound quite so stern. Arguing with her now would not change her mind. She’d have to figure out a way to see Lucas later. “But Duff is with him?”

  Gillian smiled. “Aye, he is. Ye were right. Apparently Duff was content to stay with him and as I understand it, Lucas was very pleased to have his company.”

  Ailsa nodded. “Good. That makes me feel better.” She glanced around the hall. “By the way, where is Fingal?”

  “He is taking a much needed rest too.”

  “Aye. I expect the last few weeks haven’t been easy. I am truly sorry, Gillian.”

  She smiled. “I know ye are, pet.”

  ~ * ~

  In spite of her resolve to find a way to get to the dungeon, Ailsa didn’t have a chance to slip away and see him for the rest of the day.

  That night, she paced her chamber, rapidly losing patience. She was a grown woman by all standards and yet everyone in her family treated her like a wee lassie.

  She sighed. She guessed she couldn’t really blame them. She had to admit to herself that, for quite a while, she had probably behaved more like a wee lassie than a woman.

  But the Grants had treated her like an adult.

  The Grants treated ye like an adult, because ye behaved like an adult.

  If she did the same now, maybe her family would as well.

  Sadly, she’d started on the wrong foot. It was unfortunate that she and Lucas had arrived just as Fingal and his men had. As prepared as she thought she was to make her family understand, there had been no time for any explanations. All hell had broken loose when they realized who was with her and she panicked. She couldn’t stand the thought of Lucas being locked in the dungeon and she had lost control.

  If he had just listened to her when she told him not to take her all the way to the castle, they wouldn’t be in this mess.

  But if he’d done that, Ailsa knew Fingal would have seen it the same way Lucas did—that Lucas had risked her safety to save himself. Nay, he’d been right. If they ever had a hope of her family agreeing to a betrothal, they had to win them over bit by bit. She believed she had made a little headway with Gillian and Fallon today.

  Sneaking down to the dungeon was probably not a good plan.

  Gillian had bee
n right in saying that he was a braw warrior and a few days in a dungeon wouldn’t hurt him.

  But it hurt her. Ailsa missed him. She wanted to talk to him and see for herself that he was well.

  Perhaps she could slip down there for just a few minutes. Just to assure herself.

  Nay. While it might make her feel better in the short-term it would do nothing to prove to her family that she wasn’t a willful, wee lassie. She felt certain Lucas would tell her as much too. So, although she wasn’t happy about it, she had managed to convince herself to be compliant and wait for Fingal to make a decision, she went to bed.

  ~ * ~

  Lucas lay staring at the ceiling, his hand resting on Duff’s head. Being isolated and unable to see the sky was oddly disorienting. A guard had brought him a tray of food for his evening meal along with several extra blankets, but Lucas had no idea how many hours ago that had been.

  He should probably try to go to sleep, but he couldn’t. He hadn’t slept well in days. On their journey north, he’d gotten quite accustomed to sleeping with Ailsa curled up next to him. He’d have traded sleeping in his own warm bed to sleeping on the cold ground with her in his arms any day.

  He chuckled as he remembered what he’d told William before he left for Edinburgh: The idea of snuggling up with a laird’s daughter who is cold and stiffly proper leaves me anything but…well, stiff. It hardly seems worth the work to woo her.

  “Well, Ailsa isn’t a laird’s daughter is she, Duff. She’s a laird’s sister.” Wooing her had been no trouble at all. She certainly wasn’t “cold and stiffly proper” and his desire for her grew daily.

  “What do ye reckon, Duff? Is it midnight yet?”

  Duff raised his head and nudged Lucas’s hand. Lucas smiled and rubbed his head.

  As much as he believed Ailsa needed Duff more, Lucas was exceedingly glad to have the dog’s company. He understood a bit better why Ailsa had been so distressed by being locked in the tower room alone except for meals. Of course, she could see outside and her bedchamber was not as unpleasant as this dank dungeon. Still, it was easy to lose oneself in one’s own thoughts when there was no other distraction.

  And when one’s thoughts drifted to where will I go when Fingal MacLennan refuses a betrothal and William disowns me, another living thing with which to interact was very good.

  But where would he go?

  And how could he live without her?

  Maybe they should have handfasted as Ailsa had suggested. It was as legally binding as a betrothal. But it wasn’t impossible to set aside. And Lucas figured it would be better in the long run if Fingal were focused on whether he would allow a betrothal, instead of how to undo a handfasting.

  He thought back to that moment of chaos in the bailey when Ailsa had clung to him sobbing. It had been torture to see her so distraught and know that not only was he the cause of it, he couldn’t do anything to console her. He had kissed her head and told her, “It will all work out. I promise ye.”

  He shook his head and scratched Duff’s ears. “What, in the name of all that’s holy, made me make that promise? Am I destined to disappoint her, lad? Break her heart?” Although, if he were honest, he believed he feared losing her more than anything else.

  Chapter 18

  The next morning, after a good night’s sleep with Gillian once again in his arms, Fingal sat on the bed playing with Jean as his beautiful wife dressed. Bodie stood by the bed, as enthralled with the baby as Fingal was.

  “Fingal, ye look so serious. Ye’re going to scare the child,” teased Gillian.

  “I’m sorry, my love. I guess I’m steeling myself to talk to Ailsa. I swear, I don’t know whether to hug her or turn her over my knee.”

  Gillian laughed. “Ye’ve never turned a child over yer knee, much less my difficult sister.”

  “There’s always a first time,” he said, tickling his wee daughter until she chortled.

  “Fingal, ye are a fierce warrior and I know ye have one of the finest sword arms in the Highlands. But ye know as sure as I’m standing here, that ye’d never do a thing to hurt a woman or a child.”

  He gave a dramatic sigh. “Ah, well then, I guess I’ll have to hug her. But honestly, I am not looking forward to addressing the issue of a betrothal with Lucas Grant.”

  “I know. But if ye look at it from a purely political standpoint, it could be a very good thing.”

  “Aye, but I don’t want to be political. I want to be an overbearing, overprotective brother.”

  Gillian laughed. “Perhaps ye can manage both?”

  He scowled again. “I don’t see how.”

  “Talk to Ailsa. Or perhaps more importantly, listen to her.”

  “Even if I can be convinced that she loves him—and that alone is a big challenge—nothing changes the fact that he is a Grant. I don’t know if he can be trusted and I sure don’t want to take such a risk with Ailsa’s happiness.”

  “Talk to them both then. But just know, if what she’s feeling is true love—and I think it is—the only real threat to her happiness is in yer hands.”

  He blew out a long breath. “Whose idea was it for me to lead this clan?”

  She laughed again. “King David’s. And never doubt that it was a good decision.” She walked to where he sat and kissed him. “A very good decision.”

  “Whether it was or wasn’t is immaterial at this point. It’s done.” He put a hand behind her neck and pulled her close for another kiss.

  “Good husband, as much as I would like to stay in this room and spend the day doing wicked things, it would not make this situation better.”

  “Ah, well, if I can’t tempt ye, I suppose we should downstairs and face this day.”

  When they reached the great hall it was to find that Peg had their other children up, dressed, and at the table, eating their porridge. His squire, Tomas, was with them and held their youngest, Duncan, who wasn’t quite two, on his lap.

  Their five-year-old son, Ian, saw him first. “Da!” he squealed as he jumped up from the table and ran to Fingal. “We barely saw ye yesterday. Can we do something fun today?”

  Fingal swung him up into the air, just as Adaira, who was three and half, reached him, wrapping her arms around his legs. “Da, me too? I missed ye so much while ye were gone.”

  Fingal put Ian down, and lifted Adaira up, giving her a hug and kiss. “I missed ye too, Ada.”

  Duncan just pounded his spoon on the table yelling, “Da, Da, Da.”

  Taking Ian’s hand, Fingal said, “Come back to the table so Mama and I can join ye and break our fast.”

  For the next thirty minutes, as they ate, Fingal listened to Ian and Adaira tell him about all the important things that had happened while he was gone. And none of it had anything to do with Ailsa or the Grants. Of course, Gillian had shielded them from the worry.

  As he listened, he simply drank them in. They grew so fast, being away from them for a day was too long, much less weeks. But everything he did was for them. Traveling to Edinburgh to pay taxes and reinforce his loyalty to King David was as important as strong allies, a sturdy curtain wall, and a well-trained garrison. It was all done to keep his clan, and more importantly his family, secure.

  When everyone had finished eating, Peg gathered the children to take them to the nursery.

  “I don’t wanna go to the nursery with the babies,” said Ian.

  “I’m not a baby,” said Adaira, indignantly.

  Ian huffed and revised his statement. “I don’t wanna go to the nursery with the babies and Ada.”

  Tomas jumped in. “Ian, if it’s all right with yer da, maybe ye’d like to fetch yer wooden sword and we’ll spar for a little while.”

  Fingal nodded. “Thank ye, Tomas. As ye’re aware, I have a few things to take care of today. I’d appreciate it greatly if ye’d entertain Ian for a while.”

  When the children were gone Gillian said, “Ailsa must still be asleep. Frankly, I’m surprised she wasn’t up at first light, harangu
ing me about not letting her see Lucas Grant.”

  Fingal frowned. “Maybe she’s avoiding me.”

  “Who’s avoiding who?” Ailsa asked as she walked into the hall.

  “I thought ye might be avoiding me,” said Fingal.

  She walked around the table and gave him a hug. “I’d never do that. I love ye, Fingal. And I’m terribly sorry about everything that I put ye through over the last few weeks.”

  Well, trust Ailsa to grab the bull by the horns. “I’m glad ye’re safe, pet. But I swear, if ye ever do something so reckless again, I’ll…” blister yer backside was on the tip of his tongue. But Gillian was right, he’d never raise a hand to a woman or a child and he’d never make a threat he wouldn’t follow through with. “Well, just don’t ever do it again.”

  “Aye, Fingal, I won’t.”

  She truly did sound contrite.

  “Did ye sleep well, Ailsa?” asked Gillian.

  “I figure I slept better than Lucas did. Still, I couldn’t help but worry about him.”

  And we’re off to the next unpleasant subject. Fingal thought perhaps it could be avoided if he just ignored it.

  “Ailsa, I told ye yesterday, he’d not suffer,” said Gillian, the smallest bit of irritation in her tone.

  “But I’m suffering,” said Ailsa softly. “Please, can I see him? Even for just a few minutes? Guards can go with me. Ye can go with me if it would make ye feel better. Please?”

  “Not this morning, Ailsa,” said Gillian.

  Ailsa nodded and appeared to blink back tears. “Aye, Gillian. May I be excused then?”

  “Sweetling, ye haven’t had anything to eat. Come, sit down.”

  “I’m not hungry. May I be excused?”

  Ignoring the issue was not going to make it go away and Fingal couldn’t stand to see her so upset. “Nay, Ailsa. Sit down. I want to ask ye some questions.”

  She nodded, but her expression would have looked entirely appropriate on a man facing the gallows.

  Fingal smiled and attempted to make his tone of voice as gentle as possible. “I want ye to tell me everything that has happened. If I ask ye a question, I want ye to be completely honest, even if ye think the answer might anger me. Will ye do that?”