Catriona MacKenzie stood in the midst of the women, smiling and helping with some task.
Catriona was here.
His feet moved before he thought of it and then he stood before her.
‘Catriona?’
Chapter Twenty-Two
The evening was a pleasant one. Catriona sat with other women, most of whom had children and most of whom were married. Now that the impossible was going to happen and she would have a child of her own, she began listening more carefully to the advice given by experienced mothers. And she began watching how they handled the small situations and big ones with their children in the hopes that she would know what to do when her bairn was born.
She’d been holding Seonag’s older daughter on her lap while Seonag nursed the youngest bairn. Now, Seonag passed the bairn off to her own mother and so Catriona stood to hand off the wee one to her. Stretching her back, she began saying her farewells for she tired more easily now and wanted to seek her bed when she heard the name spoken of one who did not exist any longer.
By the man whose voice she would know anywhere...any time.
‘Catriona?’
Turning to face him, she stepped out of the shadows to make certain she was not dreaming this.
It was him. Aidan MacLerie there a few paces away from her. Before she could say anything, he was striding towards her. The women around her missed nothing—not the wrong name, not the handsome young man calling to her, not even her hesitation.
‘Are ye well, Coira?’ Seonag said, walking to her side. ‘Who is he looking for?’
‘Who might he be?’ asked one of the younger women.
Aidan would never go unnoticed as long as women were around, that much she knew. But he looked neither left nor right, at anyone other than her as he approached.
Did she pretend not to know him?
They clearly did not know him. The beard he wore now had fooled her for less than a second. The larger, muscular shoulders were new. Her heart pounded in her chest and her mouth went dry. The bairn tumbled within her.
Even while she drank in the very sight of him, she only knew she was not ready to face him. She pulled her shawl around her, letting it hide her growing belly, and she walked away.
Thoughts fled and judgement went with them as she trotted down the road, away from the gathering, away from him. The others must think her mad now, but she cared not. She was winded when she reached her cottage. Without pause, she entered and closed the shutters and barred the door.
Did he follow her? She knew not and would not chance to open the shutters to look down the lane. Why had he not left her alone? Why had he followed her? How had he found her? Surely the laird had not given up her secret, for he played a part in it, too.
After some time had passed, when no one approached her cottage, she put out all the candles and sat in the chair in the dark. Too riled to sleep, she sat there, thinking of all the things she would say to him. Or maybe she should leave the Matheson’s lands and seek refuge in some other place?
* * *
Hours passed and she turned over all the possible plans in her thoughts. The only one she dared not think on was the one where she listened to him and forgave him. As the dawn’s light crept into the sky, Catriona wondered why she was so afraid to face him.
Did she fear him? Or did she fear exposing her past to him in order to tell him of the bairn she now carried? Would he think she had lied to trap him somehow? Other women did such things, gaining the favour of a lord and bearing his child to be supported. Would he believe her words if she did not believe his?
Sitting inside the cottage like this made her a prisoner, a prisoner of her past and his. She could not and would not go back to the person she’d been—one who waited on her husband’s pleasure, one who turned herself into a nothing more than a serving woman to pay back some debt she thought she owed. She’d lost so much of her life before she’d met Aidan, but she’d sworn she would not go back to a time when a man made her decisions for her.
So, when the day was fully awake, she realised that in order to make her decision, she must listen to his explanation and judge it. Opening the shutters, she let the light flood inside the cottage. Seeing no one outside, she lifted the bar and latch and opened the door.
She expected to find him there. She expected that he had followed her back and would press his case. Instead, she found herself standing alone as the village around her began to wake to the new day.
* * *
Aidan wanted to run after her, but did not. Afraid she might fall or hurt herself, he watched until she was just a shadow moving away from him down the road.
This was not how he expected it would go once he’d found her. Nothing about Catriona went as he expected it to. Never.
‘Alastair?’ Ronald said, stepping up next to him. ‘You are mistaken. Her name is not Catriona. That is Coira MacCallum.’
‘Ah. Just so,’ he said, nodding at Ronald. She was hiding in plain sight by using another name. His mother’s family name. ‘She looked like someone I used to know. My error. I hope I have not frightened her?’
‘Seonag!’ Ronald called out to one of the women in the group there. ‘Is she well? Coira?’
‘Oh, aye,’ this Seonag said. ‘She’s a bit tired from all the work preparing. And from the bairn.’ Cat must have been helping with the children there amongst the women.
‘Is she married, then?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice even as he found out more about the story she used here.
Ronald slapped him on the shoulder and laughed. ‘She’s a widow, though a bit old for ye, dinna ye think?’ he asked. ‘And she’s carrying.’
Everything stopped around him for just a moment as the words sank into his mind. Every sound, every movement, every person around him seemed to stop.
She’s carrying.
Catriona was pregnant with his bairn. He stumbled then and Ronald reached out for him.
‘I warned ye about the ale,’ Ronald said, holding him until he steadied. ‘’Tis stronger than most.’
‘I will see you on the morrow,’ Aidan mumbled out.
He walked down the road, towards the keep, but his heart wanted to follow her. How was it possible she was pregnant? She was barren. She could not have children.
He laughed harshly at the truths before him.
She knew that she carried his babe when she left him. His father must have known—for there was little or nothing the Beast did not know about those under his protection. She lived here and made no secret of it.
Confused and unable to sort through it all, he made his way back to the keep and to his chamber.
He thought he would ride in, find her, make her listen to his explanation and then she would forgive him.
If, knowing she was pregnant, his father sent her away and she made no attempt to contact him, it spoke of a reason he did not wish to consider.
She would never forgive him for what he’d done.
His mighty plan of making her see reason in his role in Gowan’s death would accomplish nothing. It might make him feel better, but she had already turned away from him.
And even while she carried a babe she thought she could never have. The pain struck him then as all of his hopes and dreams came crashing down around him. This could not end well for him.
Lairig Dubh, Scotland
Jocelyn waited for her husband in the solar. His mood and the mood of everyone here deteriorated more with each day that passed since Aidan rode out of the gates. Oh, she’d witnessed tests of will between her eldest son and his father since the first time Aidan could say the word ‘nay’ and more recently there had been some serious ones. But nothing came close to the stupidity of both of them in this matter.
She now had no choice left but to step in and meddle as Connor liked to call it. Jocelyn thought of it as taking steps to prevent catastrophe and disaster. And to save those whom she loved the most from self-destruction. Pacing around the chamber, she realised that she wa
s part of the problem, too.
All good reasons for her to take some action of her own before it was too late—if it was not already.
The sound of his loud voice, calling out orders to this one or that one, echoed through the hall and into the chamber where she waited. Jocelyn cringed at the tone, at the sound of servants crying out and dropping things and then at the silence as they, no doubt, watched him walk by, hoping he would not focus his attentions on them.
It had not been this bad when she first moved here, nor since. But this falling-out between father and son, between chieftain and heir, was tearing the MacLeries apart. And pride and anger was not going to heal this breach.
The door opened and Connor strode in, his pain evident to her in every step he took towards her.
‘You called for me?’ he asked, going to the table and pouring a measure of whisky into a cup and swallowing it in one mouthful.
‘This turmoil is not good, Connor,’ Jocelyn said, walking towards him. Many would stand away, but she needed to touch him, to soothe him when her words would inflame him. ‘And I have been searching for the real cause of it.’
‘Your son’s pigheadedness and immaturity!’ he shouted. ‘He is stubborn, like you, and questions my decisions and my authority.’
At one time, she would have run at such words, but she and her Beast had been through too much for this bluster to frighten her off. She needed to take the proverbial thorn from the lion’s paw, but it was going to hurt in doing so. Taking a deep breath, she walked to his side and touched his arm. He almost pulled it from her. Almost. But he calmed the tiniest amount and let her hand remain there.
‘I discovered two secrets you are keeping, from me and from our son, and I wonder if, in keeping those secrets, you are not feeling guilty?’ The muscles in his arm tensed and she waited for him to withdraw from her touch. When he did not, she pressed on.
‘One secret you keep would have helped Aidan and might have averted this whole situation. The other would have helped you get your way with him and yet you did not use it when you could have. So, would you like to hear what I have discovered?’
Connor glared at her and ground his teeth together, but did not move away.
Men liked to think that only women gossiped or spent time passing tales around, the juicier the better, but, truth be told, men were just as good at it as women were. And no man in Lairig Dubh could share gossip, and in the right circumstances share secrets with her, like Rurik Erengislsson.
She had developed a relationship with the half-Scot, half-Norse warrior in her first days here, even if they did not recognise it. He became the one man she could count on, no matter the situation, and he stood at her back at times when Connor could not. Though things became strained recently when her brother pursued his daughter, Rurik had seen the love between them and given up his resistance to the match.
So, when she needed to know what was truly going on with her husband and the clan, she spoke to Rurik. He probably did not even realise the importance of what he’d shared with her, but she had. A good challenging game of chess and the man spilled out information he would never have shared if he wasn’t concentrating on and distracted by his next move.
‘Aidan was not the one who decided on Gowan’s assignment that day. The one that took him from Lairig Dubh and began...’ They both knew what it all started. ‘The names of those being sent had already been chosen. Aidan only thinks it was his decision.’
‘So, what of it? It was a test of his abilities and he failed,’ he growled out.
‘But instead of stopping him, you let Gowan go. You knew of Aidan’s attraction to the man’s wife and you let him go.’
He let out a breath filled with pain and guilt and his eyes confirmed her suspicions. He had made the decision. He allowed the situation, even knowing what would most likely happen.
‘Gowan was the best man to go. We needed his experience and his training skills with those new soldiers,’ he explained in a voice that showed his conviction wavering. ‘I made the decision for the good of the clan.’
‘That is why you were willing to give Catriona the house and the settlement when Aidan asked for them. Not because of his guilt, but your own?’ she asked, not expecting an answer. Jocelyn walked over to one of the large chairs and sat down. When Connor did the same, she continued.
‘You just did not realise that his heart was already engaged. That this woman was different from all the rest who came before.’
‘I believed that when Gowan died and Aidan thought he’d caused it, he would lose interest in her. She’s too old for him. She’s too poor. She’s uneducated. She’s—’
‘She’s not a whore.’ His eyes flared then in surprise, something not common to her husband.
‘How do you know that?’ he asked. ‘The men I spoke to said she was.’
‘I spoke to the ones you did not. The ones who saw the whole of the incident that led to Gowan’s marriage to her. Her father was trying to force her into selling herself and she fought him and the men he tried to sell her to. Gowan heard the commotion, took her from there and handfasted with her the next day. Their marriage in church happened later when they arrived back here some weeks later.’
‘I should have asked you to gather the information I needed,’ he said with a harsh, sarcastic chuckle.
‘Aye, you should have, for I also found out she thought herself barren because she’d just lost a babe and had nearly died from it.’
He stared at her for a moment, his gaze filled with admiration. But, that moment passed and the anger flowed back. It would take more than just a secret to break down his resistance to the whole truth of the matter.
‘That led me to the second secret you keep.’
‘What secret is that, Wife?’ he asked, shifting on the chair to face her.
‘You did not tell Aidan the truth when he confronted you about your role in Catriona’s departure. You allowed everyone to believe that you forced Catriona from here. That you decided to exile her to some secret place to get her away from Aidan.’
He glared at her, but remained silent.
‘You only told Aidan part of it when you admitted that she asked for your help.’
‘I told him the truth,’ he argued.
‘Liar.’ She leaned closer to him. ‘Aye, Catriona came to you when she discovered what she thought was the truth from Gowan’s son—that Aidan sent him away to seduce her.’
‘He did.’
‘You sent the man. You could have stopped it. You could have told Aidan from the start and it would never have got to this point, Connor.’
‘Your point, lady?’
‘That she asked for your help in escaping. She asked for your help because she also discovered she is carrying Aidan’s child, our kin, and she could not face him, knowing...’ Jocelyn paused. ‘Or believing what you let her believe.’
Connor pushed out of the chair and began walking around the perimeter of the chamber, beginning and stopping whatever words he wanted to say several times before any came out of his mouth.
‘I thought he would tire of chasing a woman who did not want him. I thought that if he tried and failed, he would move on to another woman, as he always had before.’ Connor raked his hands through his hair and stared at her. The thorn was still there, waiting to be pulled free.
‘I thought he would see the wisdom in choosing another woman, a woman better than her in so many ways. Yet, he clung to her.’
‘He loved her, Connor,’ she whispered.
‘Then, when Munro told her his version of what had happened, the one Aidan also believed, she asked me to help her leave. She would make no claim on our son if I found a new place for her to live. The daft woman would take nothing more than a small settlement and did not even admit to me that she was carrying.’ He paused and looked at her then. ‘It was exactly what I wanted to happen. So, I did as she asked.’
‘So, why did you not reveal her secret to him? That she knew she carried his ch
ild when she left him?’
His voice shook with sadness and resignation as he said the rest. ‘Because it would have broken him to let him know he would lose her and his child. I could not stand to have him suffer that way.’
‘So, you kept that very important matter to yourself?’
‘’Twas better not to reveal it.’
When he met her gaze, she saw the pain of a father trying to protect his son. Yet, he’d put them together when he thought they would fall apart. Then, in separating them, he forced his son away.
Now she needed to come up with a way to bring them all—Aidan and Catriona, father and son, kith and kin, back together. Jocelyn walked to the door and called several servants to her.
‘What are you doing?’ Connor asked.
‘Preparing to visit my daughter.’
‘Lilidh? Now? Why?’ he asked, watching as she gave orders that would see trunks packed and horses and supplies prepared.
‘Because I also discovered where you sent her and sent Aidan there. Now, you have to devise a plan to heal this breach before we arrive there.’
‘He is the pigheaded, wrong...’
‘Stubborn one. I know. He is the very image of you, my love,’ she said, walking to him now. ‘He is the best of you and the worst. And if you do not mend this tear, you will never survive it. We will never survive it.’ She smiled as he considered her words. ‘You may even have to apologise.’
‘Jocelyn!’ he drawled out. ‘I should not have to—’ She reached up and put her hand over his mouth to stop him.
‘Ah, but you are the stronger, the wiser, the more experienced man in this situation. It is your place to lead by example.’
He mulled over her words, but the doubtful expression in his amber eyes showed he did not think much of it. So, she used the threat she kept away for those times when reason and rational thought did not work.
‘If my son does not return to his home, I will not return either.’
She needed Connor as she needed the air to breathe and she knew he needed her in the same manner. Their love was tempered by fire and challenged and strengthened over the decades since their marriage. But part of that love included their bond with their children. Breaking that bond damaged everything between them. This was no idle threat and she held her breath, praying he understood it the same way that she did.
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