“He may no’ have any plans at all. We dinna ken why his guards went north. Did you have anyone follow them?” Hunter straightened a few lances that had slipped down in their rack.
“Nay.” Angus shrugged. “Mayhap you have it aright and naught is amiss. All the same, ’tis good to be prepared, aye?”
“What do you suggest?”
Eagerness emanated from Tieren. “What if we leave with only the six we’d planned on from the start? Have two of the additional guards follow at a safe distance behind. Our lads ken well the route we will take.”
“Aye,” Angus added. “And have the other two depart afore you. Have them stay off the road and scout your way ahead. If Cecil is leading you into an ambush, our warriors will circle back to warn you, and you can wait for the two who watch the way behind to catch up before you proceed.”
“’Tis a sound plan,” Hunter agreed. “What about the two remaining Cunningham guards who travel with Cecil? If there is aught afoot, I dinna like the idea of having them in our midst. Do we have time to arrange for their disappearance?”
A wolfish grin split Tieren’s face. “Aye.”
“Good. Have them taken to Meikle Geddes to be held until we ken for certain whether or no’ Cecil is up to something.”
“Tieren and I will see to it anon.” Angus winked. “The Cunningham guardsmen will have a bit more to drink this eve than they planned. There are fishing boats enough lining the shore that we can secret them away in the dark of night.” Chuckling, he headed for the door. “I imagine Sir Cecil will put on quite a show when he finds his men have gone missing. Until tomorrow, lads.” Angus tipped his head and left the armory.
Tieren shifted, and his discomfort filled the space between the two of them. “I will have my say before we depart for Inverness.”
Hunter straightened, bracing himself for more betrayal. “Say what you must.”
“Brothers fight oft enough, and envy plagues even the greatest among us from time to time.” Tieren stared at him, his eyes filled with determination. “Never doubt my loyalty to you, Hunter. Never doubt I love you like a brother, for that is what you are to me.” His face grew ruddy, but his gaze held.
His words were a balm to Hunter’s soul. He cleared his throat. “As you are a brother to me.”
“Good.” Tieren rubbed his hands together. “As your brother and the elder of the two of us, there is more I need to say, and I do so out of caring.”
“By the saints, Tieren—”
“Nay, I willna be gainsaid in this.” He shook his head. “All of us are blind to our own folly from time to time, and you more so than others. There are those who will take advantage of that blindness to best you.” He shrugged. “Even I will do so if the situation warrants.”
“How do you mean to best me?” His mind reeled. “After declaring your loyalty, you would say such a thing?”
“Aye. If I can, I will prevail when it comes to matters of the heart.” He grunted. “Suffice it to say I meant every word I said, little brother. ’Tis no fault of mine you’re an idiot. I do you no wrong in this.”
“I like it no’ when you speak in riddles, and even less when you call me names.”
Tieren chuckled. “Dinna let it keep you up this night. We’ll both need our wits about us on the morrow.” He started for the door. “One more thing. If Meghan finds a way to return home, I intend to go with her.”
His pulse raced, and his mouth went dry. “She has agreed to this?”
“I have.” He paused upon the threshold. “She gave me no answer, and I did no’ press her for one—yet. If she will have me, I will follow her to the future.”
“What if she canna find a way home?”
“Then I suspect we will have more to fight about in the near future.” He shrugged. “But my feelings for her do no’ change how I feel about you, nor does it affect my loyalty.”
Tieren left, shutting the door a little too forcefully, sending the lances Hunter had just straightened into disarray. Hunter moved to the table where a dozen arrows awaited repair. He picked up two of them and cracked the shafts over his knee. The splintering sound and the bruising force across his thigh eased some of the tension banding his chest.
He had neither the time nor the will to puzzle out what Tieren meant with his cryptic speech about his blindness or besting him. Hadn’t Meghan also accused him of blindness? Neither she nor Tieren understood him, and that’s all there was to it.
’Twas enough to have peace between him and Tieren. He trusted his friend to guard his back, as he would guard Tieren’s—like they’d always done. He prayed he’d not lose Tieren to the future, and the thought that he might never see him or Meghan again plagued him. Loss was the one thing he could not tolerate. He searched the armory for something else to break, and thought better of it. No sense in wasting perfectly good weapons.
He scratched at the stubble on his face. He had just enough time to bathe and shave before supper. Soaking in a tub of hot water would soothe his frayed nerves. Mayhap he’d calm himself enough to face Cecil at table this eve without throttling the man before they set out for Inverness. What was he planning? Did he mean to snatch Meghan away? For certes, she’d wounded his pride with her rejection. Surely Cecil kent better than to incur his wrath.
Life had been so much easier whilst on the continent. All he’d fashed over then was winning the next tournament or fighting the next battle. His path had been clear and his way unimpeded. How he longed for such simplicity once again.
Letting out a growl of frustration, he left the armory and headed for the bathing room. ’Twas well past the hour of None, and by tacit agreement, the ladies did their bathing before Sext, leaving the room clear for the men during the late afternoon. He hoped to find the chamber empty, for he had no wish to speak to anyone.
By the time Hunter made his way to the great hall, he’d managed to regain control over his emotions. He intended to take full advantage of the cook’s skill this eve, for ’twould be a se’nnight at least before he had aught but oatcakes and jerky. He took the stairs at a jog, to find the twins awaiting him in the great hall. For certes, their faces bespoke their mood. Both were unhappy. “What is it, lads?”
Owain kept his tone low. “We want to come with you on the morrow.”
“Lady Meghan needs our protection.” David nodded, his expression grim.
Hunter wrapped an arm around each of them, giving their shoulders a squeeze. “I appreciate your willingness to lend your sword arms, but I doubt your grandsire or your father would grant permission.”
“Lady Meghan needs us,” Owain protested. “We want to—”
“Have you sensed this?” He scrutinized the two. “Have either of you had a vision of what is to come?”
“No visions,” Owain admitted, “just a general sense of impending trouble.”
“Nay, lads. You both need to remain here until such time that you return to the Sutherlands to complete your training. Tieren and I will look after her.”
Hunter caught sight of Meghan out of the corner of his eye. His breath hitched. She wore the blue gown again, the one that brought out the creaminess of her complexion and the shine in her hair. ’Twas his favorite. “The lady awaits our company, lads, and I am hungry.” He aimed them both toward the table. “If you will allow it, I wish to share a trencher with her this eve. I must tell Meghan of a few changes in our plans.”
“Hunter . . .” David’s mouth turned down. “’Tis our last night with her, whilst you will spend the next se’nnight in her company.”
“I have much to do.” He let go of them. “I will leave her in your care after we sup.”
That seemed to brighten their moods. Sky and her little sisters came down the stairs. Hunter tried to catch her eye. She refused to look his way. He really needed to go about this wooing business in an entirely different manner.
&
nbsp; They sat at the trestle table before the hearth, since this was an informal meal with only kin in attendance. Servants carried platters out from the kitchen, and Allain bore a pitcher of ale. The lad’s sullen expression brought a smile to Hunter’s face. “Are you still sulking because I want you to remain here?”
“Aye, Sir Hunter.” Allain began filling the tankards already set at the table. “I should be with you.”
“No’ this time, lad. Tieren and I prefer that you and Tristan remain here. We dinna have our armor with us and will do well enough without pages and squires underfoot.” In truth, he didn’t want to put Allain in harm’s way again. Losing his squire at sea, and almost losing Allain on the way to Aberdeenshire, had been enough.
“Lady Meghan.” Hunter reached her just as she was taking a seat. “If it pleases you, I’d like to share your trencher.”
She shot him a questioning look. “All right.”
“There are a few changes in our plans for tomorrow, and I’d like to discuss them.” Just as Hunter took his place, the village horn sounded one tone. The doors to the great hall swung open, and one of their guards hurried through.
“Three strangers are on their way to the island, Sir Hunter.” He came to a halt before the trestle table. “Malcolm is at the landing and bids you remain in the hall to inform the earl. Malcolm and our guards will escort the visitors to the keep.”
Hunter could not imagine who it could be. Mayhap messengers from their neighbors. He had sworn to offer aid to Murray should he need it. They were kin though, and that would have been two tones. William appeared at the top of the stairs with Lydia and the rest of the ladies. Hunter glanced at them before turning back to the guardsman. “Do you have any idea who they might be?”
“Nay, Sir Hunter.”
“You may take your leave.” He gestured to one of the kitchen servants. “Bring three more tankards and a trencher or two. We have guests.” Hospitality was freely given in the Highlands, and three guests inside their well-guarded keep were no threat.
“Who comes, lad?” the earl asked, helping his wife to sit.
“I dinna ken, laird. There are three riding the ferry across the loch,” Hunter told him. “Malcolm happened to be close enough to the landing that he sent word. He will bring our visitors to us anon.”
“Where is Cecil?” Meghan tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, her tone low.
“He’s taking his meal with the garrison.”
Robley and his family arrived just as the doors to the keep swung open once more. Malcolm strode forward, trailed by the three strangers. One of the three was an elder. His hair and full beard were completely silver, yet he still possessed a vigorous demeanor and erect posture. He was flanked by two younger men. Their scabbards were empty, as were the sheaths at their waists. Their weapons would have been left at the guardhouse at the portcullis.
“Welcome,” the earl’s voice boomed. “Who might you be, and what brings you to Moigh Hall?”
“My lords.” The elder stepped forward and bowed. “I am Edward of clan MacConnell, and these are two of my sons.”
Hunter’s heart slammed into his ribs. MacConnell? He reached for Meghan’s hand where it lay on her lap. Gripping it in his, he clung to her as a ship held fast to its moorings.
“Welcome,” William said. “What brings you to Moigh Hall?”
Edward’s gaze fixed upon the earl. “We seek a MacConnell lad. He’d be about three and twenty now. His mother Joan was a MacKintosh, wedded to Mahon, a MacConnell. Mahon disappeared before his bairn was born, but Joan sent word to me that she had a son. She named him Alastair after his grandsire, the baron DúnConnell. I’ve heard naught from Joan since.” His gaze never left the earl.
Malcolm rested his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. “What makes you think the lass you speak of came here? MacKintosh holdings are many and stretch the entire river to Inverness.”
“’Twas I who escorted her to the village on the mainland so many years ago.” Edward’s tone was firm. “I and my men looked after and protected her from the moment Mahon disappeared. She came to live with me and my wife for a time, until she insisted upon returning to Loch Moigh to be with her widowed mother. Aideen, I believe her ma was called. Her ma was the village midwife, and Joan wanted to be near her when her time came.”
“What would your business be with the man you seek?” Hunter’s voice reverberated through the hall. As one, the three MacConnells turned their attention to him.
Edward canted his head, one side of his mouth turning up. “You’ve your mother’s coloring, lad, but in every other way you are the spitting image of your father.”
“Impossible.” Beads of sweat covered Hunter’s forehead, and he couldn’t draw enough air to fill his lungs. “My mother was a commoner. She could no’ have wed a baron’s son.”
“Ah, but she did.” Sadness cloaked the older man. “My wife and I witnessed their vows. Your father was a friend to me and I to him.”
“A friend, you say. Yet you did naught to find out what became of me in three and twenty years? You claim I’m the grandson of baron DúnConnell?” Hunter shook his head. “There sits my father,” Hunter bit out, pointing to Malcolm. “He raised me.” He gestured to his family seated around the table. Their wide gazes darted back and forth between him and Edward as if watching a jousting tournament. “Here are my kin—the only kin I have ever kent for the whole of my life.”
Caught in a maelstrom of grief and confusion, he wanted to believe he was the baron’s heir, and yet he could not. “If what you say is true, why would my mother have taken me from my clan and home? Why would she have separated me from my birthright?” He tightened his grip on Meghan’s hand. She winced but didn’t pull away.
“Where is your mother, lad?” Edward’s eyes filled with regret. “Has she no’ told you the tale?”
“She and my granddam died when I was still a bairn,” he said, his voice breaking. “After all these years, I canna fathom why you would come for me now.”
Malcolm stepped around the table to stand at Hunter’s side. He placed a hand on his shoulder. “Mayhap this is a conversation best held in the privacy of the earl’s solar.”
“Aye.” William gestured to the empty benches. “Sit, lads. Share our supper, and then we’ll retire to my solar to sort it all out.”
“We would be most grateful for the meal.” Edward bowed again.
“If you will excuse me.” Hunter shot up, finally letting go of Meghan’s sorely abused fingers. “I need to clear my head.” Raking both hands through his hair, he strode toward the door. “I’ll join you . . . later.”
Mayhap once he was outside, he’d be able to draw breath. The rest of the foundation upon which he’d built his life fell into ruin beneath him, leaving him without a foothold upon solid ground.
The grandson of a baron? Nay. ’Twas not possible. Hadn’t he hoped and prayed to be more than he was, of noble blood? And yet, the news gave him no pleasure. Instead, it stirred up all the hurt and abandonment he’d suffered as a lad.
Alastair. Did he only imagine hearing his ma and granny calling him by that name? Faint images and even fainter memories swirled around in his head until he no longer recognized who he was.
Why had his clan ignored him for so long, and why did they seek him out now?
CHAPTER TEN
Meghan started to rise from her place at the long trestle table, intending to go after Hunter. She’d never seen him looking so lost or hurt before. It nearly broke her heart. He needed her. Being an outsider, she could lend an ear without judgment.
Malcolm stopped her. “Leave him be, Meg. He’ll be back once he’s had a chance to think things through.”
The MacConnells seated themselves at the table, and Edward sat opposite her. “Would you be Alastair’s wife then?”
“Uh . . .”
“His foster father and I named him Hunter.” True leaned forward to speak. “By the time we took him in, most of the clan had forgotten his name.”
“That he is of noble blood does no’ surprise me.” Malcolm once again took his place at the table. “He’s a fine man, a braw knight and an asset to our clan.” He winked at True. “Did I no’ say he would be?”
“Several times.” True patted his hand. “Malcolm, introduce everyone.”
Introductions were made, and food was served, but Meghan had lost her appetite. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the doors to the great hall. She didn’t need to be gifted to sense that Hunter was hurting. She flexed her hand and shook it out a few times. His viselike grip had nearly crushed her knuckles.
“Lady Meghan, you must eat.” David slipped into the seat beside her.
“Aye, my lady.” Owain pushed a trencher closer. “You will need your strength for the journey to Inverness.
“I’m going to miss you two,” she murmured, cutting off a piece of meat.
Owain heaped a pile of mashed turnips onto her trencher. “Then dinna leave.”
“Aye.” Davids eyes flew to hers. “I like it no’ that you mean to go on this journey without us. We both sense something amiss, but what awaits you is no’ clear. Stay here where my brother and I can protect you.” The twins nodded in tandem. “You have a home with the MacKintosh clan, my lady. You always will.”
“That is so sweet, but . . . I’ll have Tieren, Hunter and MacKintosh guards with me for protection along the way.” Her eyes stinging, she shook her head. Memories of what had happened with Allain and the villain who had meant to murder him flooded her mind. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to the twins. “I have to try to get back home. My family—”
“Wheesht, my lady,” Owain whispered, tilting his head toward their guests.
She nodded, turning again to watch the doors. How long would it take Hunter to cool down?
The Highlander's Folly (The Novels of Loch Moigh Book 3) Page 19
