Duncan worried at her health. “Are you certain you can do this?” His father’s cruelty lashed at her mind’s wounds. After what she confessed earlier, how could he put her through something so traumatic?
Her jaw set, Catherine’s eyes swung between him and his father. She nodded.
A small girl with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes—eyes so like her father—skipped into the room. Those eyes widened, adoration filling them. “Da!”
Duncan knelt on one knee expecting the wee lass to fly into his arms as she always did. Instead, her eyes shifted to the woman sitting stiff as a statue.
His daughter glanced questioningly at the woman holding her hand. “Ammie Tam?”
The rest of her question remained unasked, but his sister smiled and nodded, released the young girl’s hand.
Meghan flew into his arms, smothering his face with wet kisses. As he squeezed her tight, he glanced over his daughter’s head at Catherine to ensure she was all right. Pain lanced through him at Catherine’s sad expression. She sat so rigid. He saw the force she expelled not to shatter into a thousand pieces. Though it wasn’t intentional, he’d hurt this beautiful, frail woman yet again.
Duncan sighed. A multitude of sins stained his soul.
Catherine watched the tender scene, thinking the child a miniature version of her father. Tears for her own lost child sprang to her eyes. Would her daughter have looked as much like her father? She pressed a hand to her mouth and swallowed hard to rein in emotions threatening to swamp her.
The young woman who escorted the girl into the room approached and extended her hand. “Since no one appears of the inclination to introduce us, let me be so bold as to do it myself. My name is Tamara Gray. I am Duncan’s sister, Meghan’s aunt. She cannot say auntie yet, so she calls me Ammie Tam.”
Unlike her brother’s dark brown hair, Tamara’s was fiery red. “Actually,” Tamara commented, “I was at your wedding. Considering the unfortunate circumstances, I doubt you remember anyone you saw.”
Catherine tried to speak normally. “I regret I do not recall.”
Tamara smiled in understanding. “I am sorry ‘twas not a happier occasion.” She turned and glared at her father. “Unfortunately, as you probably noticed, men in this family work at being pig-headed.”
That statement earned a glare from both men, which Tamara conveniently ignored. Pulling a chair closer, she sat beside Catherine. Her eyes were the color of jade, a lovely green.
Catherine watched Duncan cradle the young girl on his lap. He murmured soft Gaelic words into her ear and her returning smile lit up the room.
MacThomaidh smiled thinly and interrupted the cozy reunion. “‘Tis time ye moved into the castle. I admit my mistake forcing ye to wed.” He ignored Duncan’s glare and looked disapprovingly at Catherine. “I give approval fer ye to set her aside.”
Tamara gasped and Catherine flinched as if she’d been struck.
“You give your approval for me to break God’s holy vows?” Duncan queried incredulously.
Catherine sat frozen in the chair.
Clearly struggling to contain his temper, Duncan lost the effort. “Auld man, you go too far.” He turned to his sister. “Tamara, please show Catherine the gardens. I need have words with Athair. Seems I am about to teach an auld dog new tricks.”
Tamara extended her arm to Catherine as Duncan helped her rise. “Please join me.” She turned to her brother. “Duncan, do not be too—”
“Outside, Tamara. Now,” Duncan ordered firmly.
Tamara took Meghan’s hand and guided her sister by marriage to the door.
Catherine was more than happy to leave, wishing she could just keep going to somewhere where there was no pain and a small child looking up at her with her husband’s blue eyes.
Chapter Fourteen
Tamara remarked as she and Catherine strolled the garden footpaths, “‘Tis always the same. They argue. Duncan is furious and I cannot blame him. Please let me apologize for Father’s behavior. I cannot imagine what made him say things so cruel.”
A few paces ahead, Meghan tripped and fell forward. Unhesitating, Catherine reached down and helped Tamara right the child.
The little girl smiled bashfully at Catherine.
When they reached a shade tree, Catherine and Tamara sat, letting Meghan wander about picking wildflowers. She smiled up at laverocks as they sang their merry songs. One bird flitted from branch to branch, enchanting her to giggle. Catherine watched the child, thinking the sound delightful...and yet a knife to her soul.
Meghan padded up. Biting the inside of her cheek and rocking on her heels, she addressed her question to her aunt. “Is she my new mam?”
Catherine gasped, her hand flying to her chest.
Tamara smiled and lifted the youngster into her lap. “Aye, Meghan, she is.”
Catherine’s eyes flew to Tamara’s. “Actually, I do not believe I...”
“Of course you are, my dear. You wed my brother.”
“Aye, but we are not really...” Catherine searched for the correct words.
“Wed?” Tamara asked innocently. “You are. I was there, remember?”
“I meant...” Again, Catherine floundered. How could she tell this lovely woman Duncan didn’t consider her his wife? It was humiliating. Instead, she changed the subject. “Do you live here and care for Duncan’s daughter?”
“Nay,” came Tamara’s lilting response. “I was ordered here the same as you and Duncan. I arrived but yestermorn.”
“Then who cares for the child?”
Tamara helped her niece to stand and murmured, “Go play, Sweeting,” before turning back to Catherine. “Unfortunately, ‘tis only Da and his servants. I hoped when Duncan wed he would take Meghan home. She needs her father.” She turned and waved at the small child as she played among the flowers.
“If you do not live here, where do you live?”
“Near Melrose,” Tamara answered. “My late husband’s estate is there. One I constantly fight the English king to keep. He tries to wed me to Englishmen. I am tired of fighting, so I shall no doubt have to leave my husband’s estate soon.” She didn’t turn away quickly enough and Catherine saw the gathering tears. After a moment Tamara supplied, “My husband did not survive the battle at Stirling Bridge.”
“I am sorry,” Catherine emphasized.
Tamara looked away, clearly remembering one of the saddest times of her life. “We thought we’d won our independence. What fools we were.” Valiantly trying to fight back tears, her hand moved to cover her trembling lips. “I thank God Duncan returned unharmed, but I wish they’d never gone. ‘Tis selfish, but I miss my husband. I shall never love anyone again.”
Hearing Duncan was at Stirling sent a chill down Catherine’s spine. Why? He meant nothing to her.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Catherine said, truly concerned.
Tamara acknowledged Catherine’s regrets with a small nod. “Has Duncan told you naught of our family?”
Catherine shook her head.
Tamara informed her, “He did not have a happy childhood and tries to block it from his mind. Sadly, the memory haunts him. Running off to join battles is his way of battling demons.”
“What happened?”
“Damage inflicted by Father’s neglect is indelibly etched in Duncan’s mind,” Tamara unhappily responded. “As a child he sent Duncan to foster with Clan Kerr. I feel certain Father knew not of the cruelty Duncan experienced at their hands. If he did, I believe he would have fetched him back.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Och, but I say too much. Duncan would be angered if he knew I discussed his past. He thinks no one knows what happened to him. He is a proud man.”
“But—” Catherine’s expression turned wary.
Hearing a yelp, she turned. Meghan had fallen into bracken. An involuntary sound of distress escaped the young girl’s lips.
Tamara rose and rushed to her. “You gave me a fright, Sweetling.”
“Ammie Tam,
I cannot get it out of my fingerpit,” Meghan wailed.
Catherine thought she’d heard the child wrong, but Tamara laughed at Catherine’s perplexed expression. “Meghan learns body parts.” She pulled the offending sticker from Meghan’s fingers. “Armpit sounded more civilized than men teaching her oxter. Now she thinks everything has pits.”
Eyes wide, Meghan bobbed her head, curls bouncing. She spread her fingers out before Catherine. “Want to see my toepits, too? I can take off my brogues and show you.” Catherine tried to keep from laughing. She made the mistake of peering at Tamara’s joyful countenance.
Tamara returned to sit under the tree. “As to what we were talking about,” she told Catherine with a helpless shrug, “the battle between my father and brother goes back many a year. Unfortunately, now it affects my niece. Da loves her, but I hoped...” Tamara sighed, seemingly unable to voice her hopes for her niece.
“Why does she not live with Duncan?”
“He traveled too much,” Tamara began, “off fighting one cause or another. Always valid reasons, but Meghan misses him.” She turned her attention to Meghan as the young girl approached with a handful of flowers.
She gave some to her doting aunt, then turned to Catherine and proffered the other batch. She scrunched her mouth and bit the inside of her cheek. In her tiny quavering voice, she asked, “Will you put these on Da’s table?”
Her lower lip trembled as she awaited Catherine’s answer.
“Indeed, I shall,” Catherine assured with a smile. “Your father shall think they are quite lovely.”
“Do you?” Meghan asked, eyes wide. “Dey are for you, too.”
Surprised, Catherine answered, “They are beautiful. Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around the small girl and hugged her.
“You welcome.”
Looking into the face beaming up at her, Catherine lost herself in the doe-eyed grin. In that instant, the innocent, tiny lamb captured her heart.
“Did Duncan tell you aught of our clan?” Tamara asked.
Catherine rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“That surprises me. Although he and Da do not get along, Duncan is proud of his heritage. We descend from Clan Chattan Mackintoshes. Our people lived over in Badenoch afore moving to Glen Shee.” That meant nothing to Catherine, and Tamara laughed. “Badenoch is on the other side of the Grampians, but enough about us. Tell me of your family.”
Catherine shot Tamara a surprised look. “You do not really wish to hear about—”
“But I do,” assured Tamara. “You are family now and I wish to know everything about you.”
Pleased, Catherine answered, “I have an older brother, Trevor, and a younger sister, Elizabeth. She is at a difficult age, four and ten, so I left my lady’s maid to care for her.” She added ruefully, “Not that your brother would have let me bring anyone with me.”
Tamara’s eyes shone with laughter. “I am certain a lady’s maid is the last thing Duncan thought of that day.” She smiled genuinely and Catherine thought her new sister lovely.
“Duncan was boorishly rude that day,” Tamara continued. “I never saw him behave like that or leave a place as fast as he left your family home. Please accept my apology for his behavior. He really is a gentle man.”
Unbidden, images flashed through Catherine’s mind—of him tenderly making love to her, holding her after their babe died, spoon feeding her porridge. She tried to push them from her mind.
They rose and returned to the Great Hall.
Catherine hoped the men were through arguing. She wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
As soon as they walked into the Hall both men fell silent.
Catherine wasn’t surprised when MacThomaidh frowned at her, but he took her aback when he ordered, “Leave the room, Meghan.”
The child’s wide eyes shifted to her father, confusion flickering in them. “But Da is still...”
Before Meghan turned to leave, Duncan said, “Come, Catherine. We leave.”
The old Chief’s face grew tauter. He turned to Catherine and growled, “Dinnae bother returning to my home, woman. Hopefully my son will set ye aside shortly.”
“Faugh, auld man. Did you hear naught I said before?” Duncan stormed, taking a step toward his father. “I told you never to speak to my wife like that again.”
Ignoring Duncan and swiveling to Meghan, MacThomaidh shouted, “I told ye to leave.”
Leaving Duncan’s side like a bolt of lightning, Catherine approached Meghan, shooting MacThomaidh a quelling glare. “She is here because she waits for me to accompany her to her bedchamber.”
Meghan’s head spun to the side to face Catherine.
“And why might that be?” MacThomaidh growled.
“Because she is going home with us. I would never leave a child here. You are the rudest person I ever had the misfortune to meet,” Catherine stated in disgust.
Duncan looked surprised. “Catherine, what mean you?”
Standing behind Meghan, Catherine turned the child to face the tall, winding staircase before ignoring her husband and again addressing her words to MacThomaidh. “I know not if you are rude to everyone you invite to your home or just me, but I shall not allow this child to remain here another day. Meghan is Duncan’s daughter and leaves with us as soon as I pack her belongings.”
The old laird’s face hardened and Catherine thought it best to leave the room and quickly gather Meghan’s things. Together they climbed the stone staircase, Meghan leading the way to her room.
MacThomaidh’s bellow stopped her before she reached the landing. “Ye take my granddaughter nowhere.”
Catherine turned, her arms wrapped around Meghan to quell her shaking. “I take her home where she belongs—with her father. You are welcome to visit anytime you can keep your temper under control. If you cannot, do not darken our door. You shall not be welcome.”
She turned and climbed the remaining steps, leaving her husband and his father with mouths agape.
Tamara followed, the sound of the men shouting at each other echoing throughout the castle. She entered her niece’s room.
Catherine folded clothes while Meghan rushed around placing items on the bed.
“Meghan, this pile is too unwieldy. I shall select several outfits and you may concentrate on a few items you wish to bring.” Catherine smiled encouragingly and reminded her, “We only have a small conveyance with us, dear. We shall have the rest of your belongings brought later.”
“Oh,” Meghan frowned. “I gotfor.”
At Catherine’s frown of puzzlement, Tamara corrected. “You forgot, Sweetling.”
Meghan bobbed her head. “Aye. That be what I said.”
“You really are taking Meghan with you?” Tamara queried in astonishment.
“She belongs with her father,” Catherine said. “Please do not try to talk me out of it.”
Tamara assured, “I have no intention of talking you out of it. You are brave to confront Father, though. Not many people are courageous enough to do so. He can be quite—”
“Obnoxious?” Catherine hastened to add.
“Aye, that would fit.” Tamara burst into hearty laughter. “Although intimidating was the word that first came to mind. I have never seen him so rude. I am pleased to have you in our family, Catherine Gillingham. You are fearless.”
“Fearless?” Wide eyed, Catherine shook her head. “Nay, in truth, I am terrified. I know not if I made the correct decision, but now I must stick with it.”
Catherine heard her sister-in-law chuckling as she left the room.
Descending the staircase, Catherine headed to Duncan. A dark frown on his face, his arms were folded tightly across his chest.
Catherine bent to Meghan. “Tell your aunt farewell, dear.”
The young girl approached Tamara, who knelt and gave her a hug. Meghan then turned to her grandfather. Rushing to his side, she wrapped her arms around his knees. “Good-bye, Grandda. Miss you.”
“And I
shall miss ye, my wee one.”
Was that a sheen of tears in the old man’s eyes? Catherine thought her eyes deceiving her. The man clearly had no feelings. Boldly she approached him and guided Meghan back to her waiting father.
As Tamara helped MacThomaidh rise, his eyes moved between Duncan and Catherine. They narrowed on his son. “Ye cannae rid yourself o’ that one soon enough. I dinnae admit mistakes easily, but I made an error when I ordered ye to wed this evil-tempered, vicious-tongued viper. Remove her from my home. Now!”
Duncan lifted Meghan into his arms. He shifted her to one side and put his other arm protectively around Catherine. He struggled to balance Meghan’s belongings at the same time. Turning to his sister, he pressed a kiss upon her brow. “Come visit us whenever you wish—provided you come alone.”
Chapter Fifteen
MacThomaidh shakily climbed the stairs to his bedchamber. Shoulders stooping, he stood at his solar’s tiny arrow slit and watched the litter disappear down the well-traveled path.
His long-time manservant and friend stood in the doorway. “M’lord, you were hateful to that wee lass.”
“I have not lost my sense. I know what I did,” MacThomaidh answered enigmatically.
Tamara stormed into his chamber. “Athair, how could you be so cruel to that gentle woman? She is one of the sweetest women I have ever met.”
When the litter vanished from sight, MacThomaidh walked to his massive four-poster bed and holding onto one of the posts, sank down heavily on the dark green coverlet, its side curtains pulled back and tied to each corner’s bedpost. A ragged sigh escaped his lips. “’Tis sad when yer own daughter cannot trust ye to do what is right. Dinnae ye see the way the lad jumped to her defense when I spoke ill o’ her? The lass has stolen my son’s heart.” The clan Chief admitted, “Ye know yer brother well enough to know that if he thinks I dinnae wish him with her, he is obstinate enough to keep her close.”
His daughter and friend stared, mouths agape.
“That young woman is perfect fer my son. Mayhap she shall reach him where I cannot.” The deeply etched lines of MacThomaidh’s forehead merged together. “Sins o’ the father... I failed him in his youth. I needs must do this fer him now. If she cannot teach him forgiveness, love, he shall go through life embittered and alone.”
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