The Eagle

by McQueen, Hildie

  Liam Maclean’s shot was close, but not as good as Stuart’s. And yet the silly women gathered were almost as enthusiastic when he finished.

  Ewan and the other archer were next. It seemed the Ross archers were much better, but they still had to shoot one more time.

  When Stuart shot again and split his own arrow, the cheers were nearly deafening. Liam’s second arrow was closer to the center of the target. It was a good shot, but not as good as Stuart’s. Cait had to admire that Stuart, rather than allowing the visitor to win, had instead beat him soundly.

  Stuart got first place, followed by Liam, third went to Ewan, and last was the other archer.

  “I believe Mister Ewan allowed Liam Maclean to beat him,” Cora murmured.

  “I do as well,” Cait agreed.

  “Time to get to work.” Greer appeared at the doorway, her gaze pinning them before moving to where the archery competition took place. “Mister Stuart did exceptionally well.”

  “Aye,” Finella said. “He did.”

  “Of course, he did,” Greer replied. “Come along. The women are almost done with the cooking. We need to see about setting the tables.”

  The four of them went to the great hall. It was strange for the room to be utterly empty. Usually, there were people about before the midday meal.

  Greer scanned the high board as a pair of maids walked in with brooms and began sweeping, not paying them any heed.

  Lads rushed in with buckets and a younger one with large rags. “Scrub the tables well,” Greer instructed.

  The woman walked about the room inspecting tabletops and chairs. “Lady Ross asked that we ensure the room is prepared for last meal. We’ll do most of the work now and finish once midday meal is done.”

  Greer didn’t leave, but instead followed behind them with a happy smile. “I have tasked the lads to roast a pig. It will be served with mashed peas. The women are baking sweet tarts. And I will cook a pudding that will not take long to complete.”

  As the woman spoke, Cait and Cora scrubbed the long tables and benches.

  Finella worked at the round table where the Ross women sat and the table on the high board.

  When Cait finished two tables and began cleaning the third, Finella hurried over and began to clean as well. Together they worked fast and before long the room was spotless, the fresh air from the open doors removing all lingering smells.

  “So much better,” Cait announced, standing near the front entrance. “This room stunk like rotted fish. I do not know how anyone could stand to eat in here.”

  “I agree,” a deep voice said, and she practically jumped out of her skin.

  Stuart Ross had entered. She wanted to glare at the others for not warning her. “Mister Stuart…,” she began not looking to him. Unable to figure out what to say, she hurried to where the other two women were.

  He scanned the room as she, Cora, and Finella stood in a line waiting to hear what he had to say.

  “The competition ended.” He didn’t look at them, instead appearing to be considering where to sit.

  “Off we go,” Finella announced, and they hurriedly gathered the buckets and rags.

  Greer wandered back in. “Good gracious, I do not believe to have seen the great room this clean in a long time.” She beamed at them. “Good work.”

  Once again, they lined up for further instructions.

  Lady Isobel and the laird’s mother, Lady Mariel entered. Both smiled widely at seeing the work that had been accomplished.

  Lady Isobel looked to them. “Greer, keep the midday meal light. I believe most of the visitors will be eating outdoors.”

  “I have trays prepared with bread, cheeses, and sliced cold duck my lady.”

  “Delightful,” Lady Isobel said with a smile.

  The women walked to the stairs to change clothing and Cait prepared to follow the others to the kitchen and empty the bucket she carried. Stuart stopped her with a touch to her arm. “Anton tells me ye have a brother who will soon be of age to squire.”

  She wondered where Anton was so she could kick him in the kneecap. “I do not know what age squires should be. My brother Brice is ten and four.”

  “Torac, is yer brother as well?”

  That he knew so much about her made Cait nervous. “Aye. He is my half brother.”

  “Torac is a good warrior. Ye should speak to him about…Brice.” The corners of his lips lifted just a bit. It was enough to make her gawk. How could a man be so handsome? “Perhaps yer brother is interested in work here at the keep.”

  Swallowing past her dry throat, Cait nodded and then shook her head. “Mister Stuart if I may be frank. I am not sure what he wishes to do. He should choose his own path, do ye not agree?”

  “Ye should ask him.”

  When the man did not move, seeming to be considering what to say next. She glanced past him to see that Lady Isobel and Lady Mariel remained at the stairs and watched them with interest.

  “I should see about my duties. Thank ye for taking interest in my brother.” Cait rounded him and all but ran from the great hall, doing her best not to splash dirty water from the sides of the bucket.

  Hurrying past the kitchen, she exited outside to toss the dirty water out. “Hurry Cait, we need to get the trays ready,” Cora called blowing out a breath. “I will be glad when the visitors leave.”

  “They do keep us busy.”

  Cait did not look over her shoulder for fear Stuart Ross had followed her.

  Chapter Four

  Later that day, Laird Maclean held court in front of the large hearth in the great hall. Surrounded by other visitors, he took delight in telling stories to anyone who would listen. The day was ending, and it seemed the visiting laird had found every excuse to not talk with Darach.

  Stuart walked to where the man sat with a local family. “Laird, my brother requests yer presence.”

  “Aye, of course,” the man replied and with a wide grin addressed the others. “Duty calls.”

  He walked alongside Stuart. “Are ye the only unwed brother?”

  Stuart shook his head. “Gideon and Caelan are still unwed.”

  “I see,” the man replied. “Ye are third-born, which means ye cannot aspire to much.”

  The man had a way of saying things that made one want to hit him. But Stuart would not be baited. “I have all I aspire for. My brother is generous.”

  “How so?” The laird gave him an unbelieving look. “Ye live here in the keep, I assume.”

  Instead of replying, he motioned to the study. “After ye.” Laird Maclean made a condescending face as if to say: He knew he was right. Stuart had nothing to claim as his own.

  In actuality, upon becoming laird Darach split the vast lands of Clan Ross between his brothers, giving each of them plenty of land. His lands—which were to the northwest—included a fishing village, woods with plenty of wildlife, and access to a large body of freshwater, Loch Bee. Gideon was given the lands to the north, Ewan lived on his lands just below Gideon’s. Duncan and Caelan had lands to the south.

  Once inside the study, the Maclean lowered to a chair next to his son. He studied Darach for a long moment.

  “I demand my eldest son be returned to me immediately. Where is he? Where is Lennox?”

  For a scant second Darach was taken off guard, no one would notice except for those who knew him as well as his brothers did.

  It all became clear. The Maclean was dying and wished for his eldest—and next in line to be Laird Maclean—to take over his duties.

  “Is it not his decision to make? Whether to return or not?” Darach asked. “I have no claim over yer son, nor can I order him to do anything.”

  Liam Maclean kept a blank expression. If the older brother did not return, it meant he would become laird by default. It was an interesting turn of events. Stuart understood why the younger Maclean was bitter. His father would rather travel and lower himself to admit his eldest was against him than to allow him the position.


  “Lennox is headstrong. Turned against me. I would rather not go into details as to why. I wish to speak to him and then bring him and the men who are left back to Skye.”

  Stuart exchanged a look with Darach. “By force?”

  “If need be,” the Maclean barked. “He has no choice in the matter.”

  Darach was pensive. “Why would anyone wish for a reluctant laird?”

  “It is not the lairdship he is reluctant about,” Liam finally spoke. “It is returning prior to father’s death.”

  The Maclean’s head snapped toward his younger son. “Enough.”

  It was certainly a fascinating predicament. Given the size of the Ross army, the Maclean could not take Lennox by force. And yet, Darach could not intervene in something so personal between another laird and his son.

  “Yer son is here,” Darach finally said. “Whatever he and ye decide is not something I wish to be part of.”

  Darach motioned to Stuart. “Bring him.”

  “One moment,” the Maclean said. “I have another reason for my visit. A marriage between our clans. I was hoping that Liam would meet Ella, yer sister. She is of marrying age is she not?”

  “Ella is with the Macdonalds and will not return any time soon,” Darach replied noncommittally. “Marriage between our clans is a conversation for another day.”

  “What of ye, Stuart?” the laird said pinning him with a smug look. “My daughter Lila is in need of a good match.”

  Stuart glanced at Darach before responding. “Like my brother stated, I believe this to be a conversation for another day.”

  “I do not have many days left,” the Maclean barked. “I must resolve many matters before departing. Yer clan would be a good ally to ours. If my stubborn son would just take responsibility and do what is required, I would not have to be here. It should be he ensuring my last wishes are granted.”

  “Yer last wish—if I remember correctly—was for me to murder yer brother.” Lennox stood at the doorway. With an expression of disgust, he met his father’s gaze. “I will return, but only after worms are feasting on yer flesh.”

  If the pronouncement affected the Maclean, it was not noticeable. Obviously, such words had been exchanged before.

  Liam however was not adept at hiding his emotions. “Ye are an embarrassment. Are not fit to be laird over our people.”

  Lennox’s right eyebrow arched. “And a murderer is?”

  There was a stunned silence. Everyone in the room waited to hear what would be said next. Stuart was riveted to the spot. What was happening before him was not unlike how things had been when his father lived. The late Ross was a hateful evil man, who turned people against one another for sport.

  When he looked to Darach, he saw that his brother also seemed enthralled by the argument.

  “Can we have some privacy please?” the Maclean asked, seeming to deflate at realizing they were witnessing a very personal argument.

  Darach motioned to his personal guards to follow. “Aye.” They all walked out.

  Once out of earshot, Darach looked over his shoulder toward his study. “I hope to never become like him,” Darach said, shaking his head. “Do ye think power does that to a man?”

  “No, I do not believe so,” Stuart replied. “Power makes whoever ye are grow. If a man is fair, then his fairness multiplies. If a man is evil…” He looked toward the library.

  “I agree,” Duncan said placing a hand on Darach’s shoulder. “Ye are a good laird and will continue to be.”

  “As long as ye do not direct that I marry his daughter then all is well.” Stuart shuddered.

  They entered the great hall where servants scurried about setting out cups and plates for last meal.

  Cait walked by carrying a tray laden with cups, a soft smile on her face as she chatted with a lad who walked alongside her carrying a large pitcher.

  Following her progress, Stuart wondered what it would be like to have a conversation with her in which she’d smile like that at him.

  “Mother seems to think ye are smitten with the lass.” Darach gave him a long wink.

  To his utter dismay, his cheeks heated. “Are ye going to ask her if she likes me?” he replied in a flat tone.

  “She is quite bonnie,” Duncan said. “Have ye spoken to her?”

  “Are we lads again?” Stuart snapped. “We should be speaking of what is happening in yer study.” Stuart tried to change the subject.

  However, his brothers had found a weakness and were enjoying his discomfort too much.

  “I think ye should speak to her now,” Darach challenged.

  “Who?” Gideon asked walking up. “Who should speak to whom?”

  Duncan motioned to Cait who was placing cups at the high board. “Stuart to her.”

  “The lovely Cait,” Gideon said in a hushed tone. “She is not one to take lightly. I must remind ye that her stepbrother is quite an able warrior.”

  “Ah, yes, Torac. He is rather large. But ye can take him,” Darach said goading Stuart further.

  Just then Cait turned, her eyes widened at the men staring at her. Stuart almost burst out laughing at his brothers being caught.

  Darach cleared his throat. “We should go speak in the parlor.” He turned on his heel and stalked from the room, Duncan and Gideon followed behind.

  Stuart chuckled and went to her. “Forgive my brothers. Sometimes they revert to young lads when admiring a beautiful lass.”

  It was as if he told her she was about to be killed. The color drained from her face and her eyes bulged.

  “Oh, goodness.” She shoved the tray into his midsection and ran from the room.

  He took two steps forward and then realizing he was holding an empty tray he handed it to the lad who gave him a curious look. “Go see about continuing yer duties,” he said and went after Cait.

  He found her in the servant’s garden area. It wasn’t really a garden, but a place where the people who worked for his family went to rest.

  Upon seeing him a pair of chambermaids scurried back into the house.

  Cait stood with her arms crossed looking in the direction of where the archery competition had taken place earlier.

  Unsure of how to approach, he watched as she wiped at her cheeks with both hands and then crossed her arms again.

  “Cait,” he said approaching. Stuart did not like it one bit when she stiffened. “I did not mean to scare or upset ye.”

  She nodded but did not look at him.

  “I mean it. We did not mean any harm by it. I should not have said anything as I do not wish to make ye uncomfortable in yer duties.”

  “What do ye mean by my duties?” The words were soft.

  “What I mean is yer duties—yer only duties—are whatever Greer decides.”

  He was in no way prepared for the fire emanating from her pretty eyes when she whirled to face him. With a solid stance, her feet planted, and arms bent at the elbow, she looked as if ready to fight.

  “I will only give myself to the man I marry. If ye or yer brothers intend bedsport, ye must look elsewhere. Otherwise, I will leave immediately.”

  She made to go around him, and Stuart instinctively took her arm. She didn’t recoil but may as well have from the way she looked at where his hand touched her.

  “Ye misunderstand,” he said. “Neither I nor my brothers would ever disrespect a woman in such a manner. Even Gideon—who I concede is a rogue—is approached by willing women, not the other way around. That is not our nature. I swear.”

  When she let out a breath, he released her arm and said, “I should not have shared what I did with ye. I was not thinking.”

  Cait’s eyes were bright with unshed tears when she looked at him. “I do not know how to respond. Perhaps I was rash to have come to that conclusion. It is just that I have never lived in a keep before and Mother warned me that men, both the family and the guards, often take advantage of the servants who work here.”

  “She was right to warn ye,” Stuart s
aid. “I want to assure ye that we strive to ensure everyone within Ross keep is treated fairly and feels safe.”

  “It was not always so,” she said. Obviously, she’d spoken to those who worked there prior to his father’s death.

  He shook his head. “No, it was not always so. It is my hope that things are very different from before. Darach often reminds the men who live here that the rules have changed.”

  “I apologize,” she said in a quivering voice. “If ye wish me to go, I will.”

  “Of course not,” he blurted. “Ye will remain here. I insist.”

  After a moment, she nodded.

  “May I go now? There is much to do. Greer must be wondering where I am. I have duties to complete before going home.”

  Stuart fought to come up with a way to spend more time with her, but he could not think of what to say. “Aye. I look forward to whatever delicious dish Greer prepares.”

  “Pork and peas,” she replied with a soft smile.

  Something in his chest fluttered. The fact he wanted to ensure she was safe from anyone wishing to bring her harm became very important.

  “The visitor is keeping us all quite busy,” he said in a poor attempt at small talk.

  Shouts sounded from the direction of the study.

  “I best go,” he touched her arm once more. “Again, I apologize.”

  “There is no need.” Cait gave him a reassuring smile and his stomach did strange things.

  The Maclean and his sons were obviously arguing. Stuart did not interfere but walked past to find his brothers.

  When he entered the parlor, his brothers looked up with questioning looks but didn’t say anything.

  “What have we decided to do?” Stuart asked, not willing to speak about Cait.

  “I will speak to both Lennox and the Maclean separately,” Darach said. “I instructed the guard outside the door of my study to wait for Lennox to walk out, so he could be brought here.”

  At a loud shout, they all looked to the doorway. “They do not seem to be coming to an amenable arrangement,” Duncan remarked.

  “It is good that ye speak to Lennox,” Stuart said to Darach. “Ye both have much in common. Our father’s death was quick, it made it easier for ye, I suppose.”