My Steadfast Love (Highland Loves Book 2)

by Melissa Limoges

  Setting aside his misgivings, he shifted to face his cousin. Calum stared at him as though he were a complete stranger. “What?”

  Calum’s mouth snapped shut and he shook his head. “’Tis just I’ve never seen you pass on an offer of female company before.”

  “Of course I have. Plenty of times.”

  Calum quirked an incredulous brow. “Are you so certain?”

  Rather than justify his actions, he glanced to the hall entrance and the pulse leapt in his throat. A fidgeting Nora stood at the threshold with her brother at her side. Clad in an unflattering tan gown, she’d left her dark hair unbound and flowing to her waist. Her grim countenance would rival that of any hardened warrior on the day of battle. The woman looked every bit as out of place as Liam felt.

  Scraping his chair over the stone floor, he pushed to his feet, drawing not only Nora and Will’s notice, but everyone gathered in the hall. Will offered a small wave and pointed to a trestle table in the front corner, a table too far away by Liam’s measure. Uncaring of the interested stares, he motioned for them to join him at the high table.

  Nora shook her head and attempted to edge away from Will, but the lad whispered something in her ear. When her comely face crumpled with a scowl, her brother grabbed her arm, all but dragging her across the hall to the raised dais.

  Liam grinned at the pair and gestured to the empty seats across the table. “Please, join us.”

  “My lord. Laird MacGregor.” Will dipped his head as he deposited his grumbling sister in the armchair opposite of Liam.

  Once the lad took his seat, Liam returned to his own. He peered at Nora, waiting for her to glance at him. The woman stubbornly averted her gaze to the trays of fare laid out on the table in front of them.

  He cleared his throat. “I was beginning to think you might not attend, Nora.”

  The address captured her attention and her dark eyes pierced him with her annoyance.

  “’Twas not for lack of trying,” she muttered beneath her breath, wringing a chuckle out of Calum.

  Liam snorted at her dry comment and grabbed his eating knife to fill his trencher. As soon as he stabbed the first chunk of meat, an elbow jabbed him in the ribs. He shot a quick glance at Calum, who nodded toward the hall entrance.

  “It would seem you have another guest.”

  Elena Fraser stood in the entryway, scanning the hall. Torchlight glimmered on the elegant sapphire gown she donned. Though she’d reached middle age, time had done little to diminish his mother’s beauty. She might’ve gained a few wrinkles, but her smooth skin retained a youthful appearance. Hands clasped in front of her, she affixed a tight smile on her lips.

  Without a second thought, Liam hopped to his feet and dashed across the hall in no time. He beamed at his mother while he presented his arm. The artificial smile she wore eased into a natural grin as she placed her small hand atop his forearm. He guided her to the raised dais, taking care to settle her in Fraser’s empty seat.

  “I thought you were dining with Mairi this eve. You should’ve told me and I would’ve escorted you myself,” he chastised with a frown.

  The woman knew better. Until they located the person responsible for Fraser’s mishap, ’twas not safe for her to stroll the halls without a guard. But managing her stubborn will was as effective as controlling Fraser’s coarse tongue.

  “My Hammish is in good hands with Mairi.” She affectionately patted his hand. “I preferred not miss your announcement, my son.”

  Though he dreaded his upcoming speech, his mother’s encouraging words soothed the unease wreaking havoc in his midsection. ’Twas heartening having her there by his side. Along with Calum, Nora and Will. Just their presence alone encouraged him.

  “Mother, allow me to introduce Nora Fraser and her brother, Will. ’Tis thanks to both of them I’m not still languishing away in the dungeons as we speak.”

  Calum snorted. “Languishing? Hardly.”

  “Well, I might’ve been.” Liam shrugged.

  Elena smiled in gratitude at Will and Nora. “Thank you both for your aid and for believing in him. I know ’tis difficult given his nature.”

  “Hey!” He shot a mock scowl at his mother.

  She winked. “Do not fash yourself, sweeting.”

  Nora lifted a hand to stifle her grin.

  Chuckling, Will leaned closer. “My lady, I sincerely hope the laird is well.”

  “Aye, he’s resting, but much improved. Thank you for your concern, lad.”

  “I’m pleased to hear he’s well, Lady Fraser.” Nora’s features lit with a sincere smile that extended to her eyes. “Please let him know the clan wishes him a swift recovery.”

  “’Tis kind of you to say, Nora dear.” Elena beamed. “I shall pass along the well wishes.”

  His mother darted a fleeting, pointed look at Liam and he almost laughed out loud. No doubt, the woman would pester him later for details. As would his cousin.

  Unable to ignore the aromas drifting up his nostrils, he picked prime bits of fare to serve his mother. After he filled her trencher and made sure Will had served Nora, Liam piled his own full with an assortment of meats, vegetables and fruits. Aside from the porridge that morning, he’d eaten little else. His empty stomach urged him to dig in. He savored each bite with relish, heedless of the idle chatter around him.

  Much later, after he’d eaten his fill, he looked over the hall, contemplating what he might say. At present, the strained mood in the chamber did not bode an eager acceptance. The Frasers’ restlessness hung in the thick air. Numerous glances toward the high table, coupled with a flurry of whispers, spoke of their mounting agitation.

  With one last fortifying sip of ale, he rose to his feet and cleared his throat. “If I could have your attention, please. I have an announcement.”

  Noise ground to a stuttering halt while every head in the hall swung his direction.

  “I’m pleased to inform you that Laird Fraser has improved.” He flourished an arm at his mother. “With the diligence of his lady wife, he’s on the mend.”

  A round of cheers and gratitude to the heavens emerged from the quiet chamber, dispelling a somber layer from the mood.

  If only the rest of his announcement met with such success. He hesitated for an instant while the words fumbled round on his tongue. Ignoring the sweat beaded on his brow, he raised his hands to signal for a modicum of silence.

  With a deep breath, he rushed out, “That being said, I’ve agreed to oversee the clan in his stead.”

  Handfuls of shocked denials rose in unison. In a few short moments, mild apprehension shifted to outraged comments and horrified shouts. The entire hall gushed into disorder.

  Liam expected naught less, but the cold reception rankled. Exasperated, he yelled over the clamor. “Calm yourselves.”

  With the Frasers worked into a frenzy, his words vanished into the sea of doubt. Beside him, he caught a glimpse of his mother’s affronted features. Her hands grasped the arms of her chair as she prepared to stand and swoop to his defense, but he halted her with a staying hand on her shoulder. ’Twas his problem to handle, not hers. Otherwise, he’d never gain the clan’s respect.

  Grabbing his empty tankard, he banged the heavy metal bottom on the trestle table thrice. He bellowed, “Silence!”

  To his utter relief, the action achieved the desired effect. The uproar dwindled to a few startled gasps. Wide eyes throughout the chamber stared at him with varying degrees of trepidation. Nora and Will included, to Liam’s chagrin.

  Biting back his irritation, he sighed. “I understand your reluctance and fears, but let me be the first to assure you, ’tis not permanent. Fraser shall be back on his feet and ready to lead this clan as he’s always done.”

  The words partially quieted the brewing storm in the hall, but several distrusting gazes lingered among the crowd.

  A clan elder piped up, “What if we do not want you as our laird?”

  The man had gumption, Liam would give him
that. “I’m quite aware many of you suspect my involvement with the laird’s poisoning, but ’tis the God’s honest truth, I had naught to do with it.”

  “If not you, then who?” a worried feminine voice drifted up from the front of the hall.

  Murmurs moved through the masses at an alarming rate. ’Twas a question everyone wished answered. Alas, he had none to give.

  “I know not, but I’ve every intention of finding the person accountable.” He heaved a weighted sigh. “Our clans are close allies and have been for generations. Many of you have known me for years, and many of you also know the laird and I’ve had our differences over the years. But naught shall change the fact he’s a strong, proud man whom I happen to hold in high esteem. I’ve no wish to take the old boar’s place and doubt I ever could.”

  His attempt at amusement gained him several grunts and a few chuckles.

  Liam forged on, “For now, Laird Fraser cannot afford to waste his strength fretting over his clan. ’Tis time better spent resting and healing. All that I ask of you is your simple cooperation. Help me to ease the burden on your laird until he’s well.”

  “What of the wool harvest?” one of the Frasers called out. “’Tis only a sennight away.”

  A round of ayes circled the query, which concerned Liam as well. He understood how important the harvest was to the clan’s livelihood, and he had no intention of leaving the Frasers to tend to matters on their own.

  “There’s no need to delay the harvest. We shall go forward with it as normal and send half the wool to market as the laird’s always done. I’ll do anything I can to help. All of us MacGregors will. Just as the Frasers have helped our clan with harvests.”

  “For someone who knows naught of running a keep, you seem mighty sure of yourself, MacGregor,” Kenneth sneered. “I thought you wanted naught to do with the clan. Is that not what you told Laird Fraser last eve? Or was that part of your ruse to steal his clan?”

  Anger prodded at Liam, poking at the invisible wound the commander opened earlier that morn. The blasted man deserved a swift kick in the arse.

  “I’ve no designs to steal any clan. I’ll admit, the words I spoke were true. In truth, the thought of leading a clan had never crossed my mind before.”

  Why would it? With Calum as laird of the MacGregors, when would the need for him to have led arisen? Not that he coveted his cousin’s position. Never once had Liam harbored any ill-will toward Calum. He comprehended the weight his cousin bore for his clan. ’Twas not a simple feat the man had accepted.

  “The responsibility, the burden…’tis a lot for anyone to undertake and I do not do so lightly.” His gaze shifted from the commander to encompass everyone in the hall. “I do not profess to know all the intricate inner workings of managing a holding, but I’m willing to at least try. For Laird Fraser’s sake, and yours. I’m not perfect, nor have I ever claimed to be. As far as I’m aware, none of us are. All I ask of you is to join me until your laird is well once more.”

  For a long, excruciating moment, Liam feared Kenneth might continue to sow seeds of discord or that not a single Fraser would comply with his request. The heavy mass in his gut sank to his feet. He tugged at the restricting collar of his tunic.

  Bless the lad’s soul, Will hefted his tankard in the air and shouted, “Aye, MacGregor.”

  Nora followed suit. Then another, supported by another. Soon, most of the Frasers held their tankards high in the air in agreement. A few remained unmoved, while a handful, namely Kenneth and a small number of his men, sat fuming in silence.

  For now, Liam would grab ahold of the small victory and deal with the dissidents later. He signaled a nearby maid to fill his goblet, then raised his tankard for a salute. “To Fraser’s fast recovery and to a prosperous wool harvest.”

  To his ever-loving gratitude, the hall surged with a round of cheers. His shoulders slumped with relief and the tight knot in his chest loosened. Swallowing a sip of ale, Liam nodded his thanks to Will and Nora.

  The lad hooted with excitement, while Nora proffered a faint smile. Mayhap Liam was mistaken, but he imagined he spied a hint of respect lingering in her dark eyes. At the thought, his pride soared to a peak.

  This foreign sensation—speaking to a clan, garnering confidence and pushing them onward—was entirely fresh, exhilarating, and downright heartening. At last, he understood the appeal of leadership, but there was no sense growing accustomed to the feeling.

  *

  Much later, after most of the clan bedded down for the eve, Liam strolled outside the keep’s stone walls as was his habit. Since he was a lad, he’d enjoyed the peaceful solitude of night when almost every other living creature had fallen into slumber. The tranquil silence afforded him an opportunity to clear his head and sort through any matters lingering at the forefront of his mind.

  Many times in the past, Calum would join him on his walks. But since his cousin’s marriage, their late-night outings had ceased. ’Twas understandable, of course. The man adored his wife and preferred her company.

  Chilled gusts of wind wound around structures and rustled the leaves of a few large oaks that remained standing in the courtyard. Tugging his mantle closed over his chest, he rubbed his hands together to ward off the cold. Overhead, hundreds of twinkling stars blanketed the clear night’s sky. The faint gurgle of the stream outside the courtyard whirred through the air.

  Liam ambled along the worn, stone path leading to the stables in the far corner of the courtyard. His nearly-quiet, booted steps punctuated the droning silence. Within moments, another soft shuffle of movement behind him pricked his ears and he pivoted to face whoever approached.

  He nearly groaned aloud at the familiar sight of Kenneth stalking toward him. Shadows cloaked the man with a sinister aura that suited the commander a bit too well. Even in the dim moonlight, Liam could easily distinguish the scowl carved in Kenneth’s features. No doubt, the man had waited for a chance to catch Liam alone after the evening meal.

  Suspicious of Fraser’s commander, he shifted his stance, allowing his hand to linger near the dagger sheathed along his side. He trusted the man about as much as he would a pack of hungry wolves.

  He affixed a false smile on his lips. “Kenneth. Nice eve for a stroll, eh?”

  The stern soldier paused a few paces away, his displeasure apparent in his rigid posture. “If you believe for one instant your pretty speech in the hall has won my clan over, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

  Truly, he could not fathom the source of the commander’s disdain. “I merely plan to help Fraser with the harvest, Kenneth. Naught more.”

  “And afterward? When the laird acknowledges you as his bastard heir?”

  “So what if he does?” Exasperated with the hostile man, he shrugged. “Does not change the fact I’ve no intention of stealing his clan out from under his nose. Besides, I’m not entirely sure why our personal affairs should concern you.”

  He did not need torchlight to discern the commander’s face flushed crimson. The other man practically shook with rage.

  “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve served as Fraser’s commander nearly a score of years. Who the devil do you think handles matters for the laird?”

  “For now, I shall.” Liam did not waver.

  “You?” Kenneth spat out. “You forget I know you. Everything’s naught but a jest to you. You could no more care for a clan than you could any of the women you drag in and out of your bed.”

  Liam ground his teeth in frustration. “Do not be so hasty to presume you know a damned thing about my character.”

  “I’ll presume anything I damned well wish. You’re naught but your cousin’s bastard shadow.”

  Despite the infuriating words, Liam struggled to uphold his cracking composure. “What the hell’s your problem, Kenneth?”

  “You! You’re my problem.” The commander’s voice resounded through the courtyard. “You’ve not toiled hard a day in your wretched life. You’ve done naught to deserve this cl
an. Not as I’ve done.”

  Liam narrowed his eyes at the revealing assertion. “Are you suggesting—”

  “Tread carefully, MacGregor.” Kenneth’s growled warning slashed through the swathe of tension between them.

  Never one to cower from a challenge, Liam lifted his chin. “Or what?”

  Without another word, Kenneth stalked forward, their shoulders smacking together, as the commander continued on to the stables.

  Liam narrowed his eyes on the soldier’s retreating form until the inky blackness of night swallowed him whole. If any doubts lingered in his mind over Kenneth’s guilt, the man just banished them altogether.

  Chapter Nine

  Over the following days, the holding teemed with a flurry of activity as everyone planned for the upcoming wool harvest and subsequent outdoor feast on the village green. Despite a few reproachful glances and hushed whispers here and there from some of the younger women, Nora toiled hard along with the rest of the clan. Between threading twine to hold the shorn, bundled wool to stripping kindling to coil together for the wattle-fenced enclosures, her overworked fingers ached to the bone.

  “Holy Mother, tell me we’re nearly done with this blasted fence,” Sarah grumbled.

  Nora glanced over her shoulder at the dwindling pile of long sticks on the grassy knoll overlooking the pastures where they worked. “Almost. Just a bit more.”

  She and Sarah had spent most of the mild, sunny morning twirling lengths of twine around the sticks to hold the fencing together. In the fields below, the men continued to herd more of the flocks into the enclosures to shear, while others in the clan bunched wool in bundles for the looms and market, sending loose scraps of fabric floating on the breeze.

  “Saints, help me. I cannot take much more of this,” Sarah exclaimed.

  Once they’d wound the last stick to the section of fence, Nora swiped a hand over her damp brow. “You’ll be pleased to know, we’ve finished. That’s the last of it.”

  “’Tis a blessed miracle.” Her friend blew out a breathy sigh. “I’ve never despised a bunch of sticks in my entire life as much as I do now.”