By the time she made it to the stairs leading up to the battlements, her feet were tingling, and angry heat filled her veins. A feeling she remembered all too well. And though she started to hear murmurs of amazement filter through the crowd, she never looked back as she climbed the stairs.
Speckled with blood and eyes damp with sadness, Darach’s cousin Machara stood at the top. She lowered her head, stepped aside and murmured, “He’s over there.”
Darach still knelt but sat back on his heels with his shoulders slumped and his head hung. Not only his cousins but several uncles stood behind him with their heads bent. She had met them all before. Colin MacLomain, Bradon, Malcolm and Colin MacLeod. Those who had been part of the Next Generation.
Grant’s generation.
But where was Sheila? Jackie’s heart broke for her.
Yet right now, all she could focus on was Darach. His immense sadness. Their immense sadness. Because his grief was every inch hers. She said nothing but dropped to her knees in front of him. Half a breath later, she was in his arms. Face buried in her hair, he wrapped his arms around her tightly and held on as if she were the only thing grounding him.
He remained silent for a long time as he held her. His emotions shifted and fluctuated rapidly between sadness and anger. Incredible anger. And while she understood it, she refused to let it ravage him. So she pushed comforting thoughts into his mind. Ones that reminded him he wasn’t alone. He had his family, his clan and her. She reminded him how much love still surrounded him. How his father would want him to focus on that. How his father would want him to be strong rather than embrace bitterness.
Eventually, a soft but firm voice broke through everything.
“Son,” Sheila said. “It’s time for you to be strong. You’re laird now and must be with your people. Your clan.”
“I cannae,” he whispered into Jackie’s mind.
She pulled back, met his eyes and spoke aloud. “But you have to…for your dad.”
A different sort of sadness flickered in his eyes and he shook his head.
“What is it?” she murmured.
He stared at her for a long moment. “I dreamt you died in my arms when I was laird.”
“That’s why you’ve avoided becoming laird for so long?” Emotion welled, and her throat thickened. “Because of me?”
When he nodded, she pushed aside her emotions and said what needed to be said. “Well, now you know I’m going to die either way.” She cupped his cheeks. “So it’s time to step up because it’s not about me anymore. Not in the least. Now it’s about doing right by your clan and being the man your father expects you to be.”
Their eyes held for several long moments before he nodded and kissed her palm, murmuring, “Aye then, lass.”
He pulled her up and looked at his mother, whispering, “I’m so verra sorry Ma.”
Sheila was pale and her eyes red-rimmed, but she stood tall. When he went to embrace her, she shook her head. “Not right now, Son. I’m okay.” She gestured at the crowd. “You are the Hamilton chieftain now and need to address your people. Though Jackie bolstered them considerably, they still mourn for your father…for all of us. They need to see that you’re well. That you can lead them.”
Confused, Jackie said, “How did I bolster them?”
A soft smile came to Sheila’s lips. “Though they don't know who did it, you resurrected every fallen Hamilton warrior. Not the enemy…just your new clan.”
Shocked, she looked down into the courtyard. Sure as heck, every fallen Hamilton was standing. Some embraced their family while others their fellow soldiers.
“Bloody hell,” Darach whispered. “Thank you, Jackie.”
“I didn’t… I don’t…” She shook her head. “What I mean to say is I didn’t do it consciously so I’m not so sure you should thank me.”
“Nay, these men wouldnae be standing if you didnae feel great emotion for them.” He took her hand and met her eyes. “You should be verra proud of your gift, lass. ‘Tis part of who you are and brings great joy to those you touch.”
Jackie didn’t quite know what to say so merely nodded. Darach squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek before his eyes swept over the lifeless, dead land beyond the castle. His thoughts filtered down to two singular emotions.
Determination and a need for revenge.
His jaw clenched as his gaze went to his cousins. They seemed to understand because they nodded, their expressions just as fierce. Then his eyes met his mother’s. Sheila stood up a little taller and nodded as well.
He had an impregnable wall of support behind him.
Darach never released Jackie’s hand but walked to the edge of the battlement and faced the courtyard. The crowd quieted and a long moment passed before he spoke. She felt the air shift around them and knew he used magic to make sure everyone heard him.
“Let me begin by thanking each and every one of ye for fighting so well this day.” His gaze roamed the crowd as he made a point of meeting as many eyes as possible. “Not only my own kin but those of ye who are Broun and Thomson. ‘Twas admirable and willnae be forgotten by the Hamilton clan. We are kin and will always help if ye are ever in need.”
People cheered, but it was a low, tempered sound. One that bespoke underlying sadness. One that Darach now addressed.
“We lost a great man today.” She felt the surge of emotion he pushed down save for a small part. That came through clearly in the huskiness of his voice. “My Da not only led this clan to greatness but he loved ye with all his heart. Ye have been every inch his lifeblood for a verra long time.”
There were sniffles far and wide as Darach continued. “For too long now I have wondered if I could ever fill his shoes.” He shook his head. “And ‘twas not because he was such a powerful wizard but for another reason altogether.”
Jackie squeezed his hand when he paused and fought back another wave of emotion.
His eyes met hers and he nodded before he continued speaking. “I might have grown up here, and ye are my kin, but ye didnae know my secret. The overwhelming, crippling anger I felt at how badly my Da was treated at this castle when he was but a young lad.” He shook his head. “But it turns out I was wrong and have only just recently realized it. ‘Twas never this castle and certainly not this clan that bothered me. ‘Twas that monster Kier Hamilton, who festered here beforehand.”
“Aye, he was pure darkness,” many older clansmen murmured.
“But he isnae here anymore, and I dinnae intend to let any of his ilk infest the Hamilton’s again so long as I draw breath. So now I have to ask ye something because I willnae have it any other way...” The crowd grew very silent as he eyed them. “My Da became laird of this clan because he loved ye and ye loved him just the same. So in good conscience, I willnae take his place simply because I am his son.” Darach lowered to one knee and bent his head in respect. “I am yers only if ‘tis what ye truly want.”
It grew so quiet she didn’t dare breathe.
She knew the crowd wouldn’t shun him but would there be random murmurs of displeasure? After all, he’d just told them he had been angry for years. Though he made clear at whom, you never knew how people would take things.
“I for one would be honored to call ye Laird,” a woman called out. “Yer as good a lad as yer da ever was!”
Jackie’s brows perked when she spied the woman. Though older, there was no mistaking Kenzie. The teenage girl that young Grant had been so kind to in the cottage.
“Aye!” the crowd roared in response.
“Ye’ve a kind heart, Darach Hamilton,” someone called out.
“None kinder!” another said.
“Aye!” the crowd roared again.
“Ye are loyal to kin and a fierce warrior,” a man declared. “I would follow ye into battle always.”
Jackie recognized the man as Kenzie’s brother, Bryce.
“Aye!” the crowd roared in agreement.
The praise continued then shifted slightly.
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“Och, and what a handsome laird ye’d make, Darach Hamilton,” a young woman called out.
“Aye, he’s mighty in battle and mighty in,” another started before Darach stood swiftly, pulled Jackie against his side and interrupted the woman with one simple, awkward word. “Wife.”
The crowd went silent and stared at them.
Jackie’s face burned as she spoke within his mind. “Great speech and I know you’re going through a lot right now but could you maybe…I don’t know…say more than that.”
“Aye, I just didnae want ye to think that…” His eyes met hers and whatever he was about to say trailed off. He cupped her cheek, and though he spoke to the crowd, he never looked away. “I found my Broun, the love of my bloody life and married her straight away. Meet my wife, Jackie.”
Then he kissed her hard.
Not a quick, chaste kiss but the kind that made her knees weak and had her wrapping her fists into his tunic. Whistles of approval rang out, and people clapped. Though she knew it was the last thing he wanted to do, Darach eventually ended the kiss and turned back to the crowd.
“I dinnae know what to expect next from the darkness that plagues this land, but I promise ye that my kin and I will get to the bottom of it.” Darach looked to his family. “My Da might not be here, but ye’ve the strongest wizards, dragons and warriors right here to protect ye. We will defeat this evil and return the land to what it was.”
“Aye!” the crowd roared.
“How else can it be since the gods brought our fallen back!” someone cried.
Jackie bit her lip, grateful they didn’t know she had resurrected them. Yet she recognized an opportunity. Before Darach could respond, she said into his mind, “Don’t tell them it was me. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
When he frowned at her, she continued, “Don’t you see? If they believe the gods are behind this, it’ll keep their spirits up. Though mankind has done awful things in the past, they’ve also done amazing things when they thought God or their gods rallied behind their cause.”
“’Tis a lie, though,” he replied. “And I dinnae want to start as chieftain by lying to my people.”
“Jackie’s right, Son,” Sheila cut into their mental conversation. “The land has died around this castle, and they just lost your father. You’ve done well to rally them so far, and I’m proud. But a person can only take so much. Most have families beyond these gates. If you want to keep hope in their hearts and stop them from leaving the castle, then they need to believe their loved ones are being protected by a higher power. When the time is right, and all is said and done, then share Jackie’s gift and beg for their forgiveness that you didn’t tell them sooner.”
“Also,” his mother continued. “Though they would mean well, Jackie doesn’t need the kind of attention they would show her if they knew the truth right now. It might be worshiping, but it would also be endless. It might also be dangerous. You don’t know if someone in this crowd has an ailing child or wife. Imagine what they would do if they knew what Jackie was capable of. She might very well end up beyond these gates in a mob you couldn’t control. If you can count on nothing else, Son, it’s that humans will always be human. Most are capable of anything if it means saving their loved one’s lives.”
Darach’s eyes held Jackie’s for a long moment before his attention returned to the crowd and he roared, “To the gods! And to God Himself! Might they and He always show us such favor!”
The crowd roared with approval.
“’Twas good council,” Darach said into Jackie's mind before he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close and murmured in her ear, “Ye are already an admirable Lady of Hamilton Castle, my lass.”
“Thanks to good advice from the previous Lady of Hamilton Castle,” she reminded.
“’Twas your idea to begin with. Ma just followed your lead.” His eyes met hers. “But dinnae doubt I know where else your mind was at.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Aye, but you do,” he said softly. “You weren’t concerned in the least about being carried off by a crazed mob. Nay, you are as determined to keep our people at arm’s length as you were me because you dinnae want anyone hurt when you leave.”
He had hit it dead on. The idea of letting everyone down already hurt and she didn’t even know them. What she did know was that she cared a great deal about Darach, and they were his clan, his people.
“There’s just no point in sharing anything right now,” she murmured.
“Aye, you and Ma convinced me of as much but,” he tilted up her chin until their eyes met, “as soon as all of this is over, they’ll know everything and nobody will be carrying you off anywhere. Not so long as I draw breath.”
She almost said, “How could you when we won’t be here because of your love for me,” but didn’t. He had been through enough today. Far too much. So she nodded, stood on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek. “Sounds good.”
“I mean it, Jackie.”
“So do I.” She brushed her lips over his and met his eyes again. “You need to be with your clan now.”
“Aye,” he murmured. “The wee King is safe enough, and our people are protected. Go to the castle and rest.”
“So you know what happened to Robert?” Jackie frowned. “You know that I did a crappy job of protecting him, and he nearly died.”
“Nearly died?” Darach said. “Och, lass. He might be a wee bairn but he’s strong, and my sister is a master healer. You protected him well by getting him to safety. If our future king decided to save another and take a blade, it shows great strength of character. That which he will someday need.”
Her brows perked. “I guess that’s one way to look at it.”
“He’s safe, and that’s what matters most.” Darach gestured toward the castle. “Go rest, lass. I need to visit with my clan and make sure all is well. It’s been a truly difficult day.”
Jackie held his gaze, and though she knew he was trying to keep things lighthearted not only for her sake but everyone else's, she felt his overwhelming sadness. Losing a parent was devastating.
“I don’t want to rest. I’m worried about everyone,” she said. “Would it be okay if I tagged along and kept you company? I’d like to…be there.”
“You dinnae need to,” he said softly. “’Tis not expected of you.”
“I’m not worried about what’s expected of me.” She squeezed his hand. “I just want to…please.”
Their eyes held before he finally relented. “Aye then, lass. I would like that.”
So they spent the remainder of the day not only with the Hamiltons but the Brouns and Thomsons. Jackie remained impressed by how well liked Darach was and equally humbled by how well she was received. Though sad over losing Grant, a thread of hope had ignited not only because of the resurrections but because of Darach’s words. He had touched everyone either with his speech or long beforehand.
When night fell, a bonfire was lit in the center of the courtyard as all paid their respects to the great Grant Hamilton. Sheila had long disappeared, and Lair remained in the castle, unseen and unheard from. Jackie never left Darach’s side and did everything she could to keep his sadness from overwhelming him. While they said little if nothing, she noticed his cousins and her friends were always close. Always there if they needed them.
It was a good thing the courtyard and castle were huge because there were an alarming amount of people to house. That, it appeared, was something his aunts and uncles saw to because by the time Darach bid all good night, everyone had a spot and seemed content enough.
“Where are we going?” she said as he led her up the stairs in the great hall.
“To your chamber.”
“My chamber?”
“Aye.” He led her down a familiar hallway then up more stairs.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered but had a feeling she was starting to.
“Lass, I’ve been dreaming about ye for years
,” he said, brogue thickening as they went down another long hallway and up more stairs.
“I know, but you couldn’t have possibly,” she began but trailed off as he led her up the final spiraling set of stairs.
“Possibly what? Made sure a room waited for ye if ye ever arrived?” he murmured as he led her into the huge bedroom she had been in earlier. His eyes met hers. “This chamber has been yers for well over a decade, lass.”
Chapter Seventeen
DARACH HAD IMAGINED this moment for years. That someday he would walk the lass from his dreams into this chamber. What he never could have imagined was that it would end up being a sanctuary to keep her and the future King of Scotland safe. More so, that he would be so bloody sad when they entered it together for the first time.
Rightfully so, Jackie wasn’t awed but distressed when she looked at the bed. “Robert’s not here anymore.” Her eyes went to him. “I take it he’s somewhere safe?”
“He is,” Darach assured as he touched the small of her back and led her further in. “No need to worry. All is as well as it can be for now.”
Her eyes met his. “I sense how guilty you feel for being up here when you could still be downstairs.”
“Aye.” He tried to fight exhaustion. “’Tis where their laird should be.”
“Maybe.” She urged him to sit on the bed. “But I think it’s safe to say they understand how sad you are right now. That you need some time alone. You just lost your dad, Darach. That’s not easy.”
He sighed. “Nay, ‘tis not.”
“You need rest,” she said firmly as she untied his boots. He watched her without really seeing. His Da was gone. Dead. At first, he hoped he was wrong and what happened was similar to Rònan's experience, but his sister soon squelched that thought. Not just his life form but his essence was gone.
Passion of a Scottish Warrior (The MacLomain Series: Later Years Book 4) Page 23
