Chapter 10
“Fynn, please eat yer porridge,” Lilidh said. “I need to leave soon so I can get up to the castle.”
The boy grumbled as she dressed and moved around the room to clean things up at the same time. She felt like her mornings had been all over the place since she started working again, trying to get ready while still having breakfast and then cleaning up and getting the house in order for Fynn. Although she hadn’t been late to work yet, she knew it was only a matter of time, and wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Margaret’s wrath; the chamberlain had a well-known grudge against tardiness.
It certainly didn’t help that she couldn’t stop thinking of Mathe’s words and the conversation they had. Would it have truly been better for Fynn if Mathe had never come back? They certainly enjoyed each other’s company while working together in the stables; in fact, it seemed to be all that Fynn had spoken about since then. One part of her knew how important it was for the boy to have some type of interaction with another male, but then the reminder of Mathe’s past actions rose to the forefront, and she asked herself yet again how she would ever explain things to the boy if Mathe disappeared once more.
Never mind the fact that Fynn still had no idea that Mathe was his father. Lilidh stifled a groan, wondering why things were suddenly so complicated. And why was Mathe all she could seem to think about? If he truly meant nothing, as she’d said when he first knocked on her door, then she should have been able to put him out of her mind. And yet any time she had idle thoughts, they returned to him. It was maddening, the way her unconscious mind seemed to work against her.
“That’s it, Fynn,” she said in exasperation, her voice getting louder. “If ye dinnae eat that porridge -”
Her words were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Fynn immediately leaped off his chair and ran over to open it. He flung it wide and looked out with a beaming smile.
“Mathe!” he cried.
A tall shadow paused at the door, looking in. “Good morning, Fynn,” he said, his voice a low burr. “I hope ye’re eating yer porridge.”
“Of course,” the boy replied as he climbed back up into his chair, spooning his porridge in with gusto. “See?” he asked with his mouth full.
Lilidh frowned at him, then turned to Mathe and her frown only deepened. Why were her knees suddenly weak? “Were ye listening to us?” she demanded.
Mathe gave a faint smile. “I didnae need to. I could hear yer voice from the street. I dinnae ever remember ye being so loud. Well, apart from -”
“What do ye want, Mathe?” she interrupted with a shake of her head.
He inclined his head towards Fynn. “I’ve picked up a new job. A table, and a big one. I could use the lad’s help.”
Fynn’s eyes widened, and he looked at Lilidh. “Oh mama, can I -”
Lilidh raised her hand, and he fell silent, although still clearly close to bursting with the need to speak, bouncing up and down on his chair in excitement. “For how long?” she asked.
“All day, and likely more over the next few days. It’s a decent job. Fynn was a big help with the chairs, and some planks would certainly benefit from having two people to move them around.”
“Oh mama, I’m good at moving -” Fynn cut himself off again as Lilidh glared at him.
“Ye want to use my son for labour,” she said. “What exactly would he be doing?”
“I’ll get him started on the wood blades, first,” Mathe said. “Then I’ll teach him how to use some auld wire to heat red-hot for the detailing.”
“Ye”re joking,” Lilidh said at his words, gripped by a sudden image of Fynn with sharp blades and the fear that it brought.
“Aye, Lilidh, I’m joking,” Mathe replied. “The lad will help much as he did the other day; gathering nails, helping me to place and set the wood, handing me tools when I need them. He’ll no” touch anything dangerous, ye have my word.”
“Does yer word mean much these days Mathe?”
“I want Fynn to help,” Mathe said, ignoring her question. “But only if it’s alright with his mother.”
Fynn’s eyes were wide, and he looked from Lilidh to Mathe and back again, his little legs swinging under his chair. When she glanced at him, he looked back imploringly and put his hands together, silently begging her. Her lips pursed.
“At least ye had the decency to ask, this time,” she admitted grudgingly. Then she looked back at Fynn once more and gave a heavy sigh. “Fine, ye can take him for the day.”
The boy jumped down with a whoop, clapping his hands and dancing around the room. The sight was so ridiculous that Lilidh couldn’t help but smile, and she glanced up at Mathe to see him looking down at the boy with a smile of his own. It was an old smile, without the cruelty that she remembered from his last years in Dun Lagaidh. It was the type of smile that he had given her in the early days of their marriage, when Mathe was a young man trying to find his way in life, before he’d met the old laird and started down a darker path. It was a handsome smile, and once again her body betrayed her.
Mathe’s eyes fell on her and for one moment they simply looked at one another, still wearing their smiles.
It almost felt like they were smiling at each other.
“Mathe, a word outside?” she asked.
The sun was just breaking over the roofs of the surrounding buildings and the sky overhead was brightening into a brilliant blue. It would be a wonderful day. They stepped out onto the porch and Mathe closed the door behind her.
“What’s yer end goal here, Mathe?” Lilidh asked quietly.
“Ye know my goals. I’ve made a promise to myself, and to ye, and made nay secret of that.”
Lilidh nodded slowly. “Let’s assume that ye’re telling the truth for one moment.”
“I am.”
Lilidh held up one hand. “Mathe, indulge me. Let’s assume ye’re telling the truth, and ye stay in Dun Lagaidh. Asking as the lad’s mother, I need to know what yer intentions are with Fynn.”
Mathe nodded and fell silent for a moment. “Does he know anything about his father?”
Lilidh shook her head. “Nay, he doesnae. He’s asked, but I tell him that no” everyone has a father.”
“And that he doesnae need one,” Mathe said.
Lilidh grew angry, but kept her voice down lest it carried back into the house. “What choice did I have, Mathe? Tell him that of course he needed one, but he wasnae getting it all the same?”
“Nay, I ken.”
“I do my best to shield him from the talking in town,” Lilidh said, “but it’s becoming harder the older he gets. He’s a smart lad and he’ll ask me questions soon that I willnae know how to answer.”
“Is it really that bad, with the townspeople?”
Lilidh shook her head. “Mathe, have ye forgotten who ye were?”
“I haven’t forgotten who I pretended to be,” Mathe said. “Ye know that the persona of MacBrennan wasnae who I really was.”
For one moment, Lilidh found herself suddenly overcome by memory. She recalled Mathe returning home late at night, covered in blood, refusing to speak to her. She remembered the suspicion as the people in town gradually pulled themselves away from her. She heard the rumours of deeds committed by her husband, the terrible things done in the name of the old laird, the gradual turning away from the life he had lived and towards something else entirely. A life that left no place for her.
“We must remember things differently,” Lilidh said. “Because I remember the opposite; MacBrennan was exactly what ye became in the end.”
Mathe looked up to the blue sky, and his face fell into a deep frown. “Ye”re right,” he said without looking down at her. “I did change. The auld laird drew me ever closer, and I allowed myself to fall in so deeply with him I couldnae find my way back out.” He took a shuddering breath and looked down. “I became MacBrennan.”
“People were afraid of ye, Mathe,” she said. “Deathly afraid, even as they hated ye. So after ye left, what do ye think happened? They suddenly found themselves without the need to be afraid anymore, leaving only the hatred behind. And with ye gone, there was only one - two, I should say - people to direct it towards.”
“Ye and Fynn.”
“Aye, yer wife and yer son,” Lilidh said. “So I hope ye can appreciate why I need to know what yer goals are for him. He’s already living a life that he doesnae deserve, so I willnae have ye place any more heartache upon him.”
“I willnae, I promise ye,” Mathe vowed. “I ken ye dinnae want him to know who I am, no” yet. But the fact is that the lad needs a father. And if I cannae be his father just yet, then at least I can be his friend.”
At his words, Lilidh felt her eyes burn with sudden tears. She blinked them away quickly. “I dinnae want him to get hurt, Mathe. Ye cannae do this if ye’re no” completely committed.”
Mathe reached forward and took her hand. She considered pulling back, but his fingers were warm and his grip was strong and he looked into her eyes earnestly. She found herself surrendering to that gaze, and the way it looked into her very heart. It was intimate in a way that made her breath quicken.
“Lilidh,” he rumbled, “I told ye yesterday; I’m here to stay.”
“Fynn deserves happiness,” she said quietly, finding herself distracted by his gaze, and the way his fingers gently massaged hers. His touch brought unbidden thoughts to the forefront of her mind.
“As do ye,” Mathe said.
“Ye left me.” Her words were barely more than a whisper. His breath was warm on her face.
“I didnae mean to. After the auld laird died, I didnae know what to do. I took to my horse and rode without thinking.” He shook his head and smiled bitterly. “I’d certainly taken enough lives, but I’d never really lost someone close to me until then. I didnae know how to handle my grief, so I just rode. I always meant to come back.”
“Why didnae ye?”
“I was captured by the English,” Mathe said with a shrug. “I was still deep in Scotia, so it must have been an advanced scouting party. I was lost in my own troubles and I rode straight into them. It was only three days out of Dun Lagaidh and I was about to turn home. They took me back to London, and I’d been in prison ever since.”
Lilidh fell silent. She’d heard all sorts of rumours about Mathe’s sudden departure, but never one that ended so simply. She was almost surprised to find a part of her wanted to believe it; that he’d always meant to come back. That he hadn’t abandoned her.
That he’d still loved her.
But the gnawing question remained; was he telling the truth, or what she wanted to hear? And if he was indeed lying, then how long until he walked out on them both once more?
“I need to get to work,” she said finally, pulling her hands back, still feeling the warmth from his touch.
“Aye,” Mathe replied. “Why dinnae ye go, and I’ll clean up with the lad and then take him back to the West Gate.”
Lilidh nodded. “Fine. Keep him safe, Mathe.”
“I promise.”