A Price to Be Paid: A Scottish Highlander Romance (Legacy of the Laird Book 2)

Chapter 18

It wasn’t until late afternoon that Cora entered the kitchens, walking with her back straight and studiously ignoring both Lilidh and Torrey.

Lilidh didn’t mind, and decided that if that was the sort of treatment they could expect, then it was actually an improvement. She wondered what Margaret had said to the other girl, and if she’d also received a warning. No matter; it wasn’t any of her business, and she wasn’t going to waste any of her time thinking about it. Instead, Lilidh busied herself in her work, scrubbing the flat pans from the ovens and stacking them to dry. The only way to look was forward, after all.

A bell rang out, signifying the end of the day, and she stretched and untied her apron. Her body must have been getting stronger, as her fingers no longer stung from the effort of scrubbing and constant exposure to hot water, and her back didn’t ache like it used to. She’d been worried that the job might break her, but it seemed she only needed to toughen to its demands. Who would have thought; Lilidh MacBrennan, the successful kitchen-hand. And yet, for her son, Lilidh would be the best damn kitchen-hand in Dun Lagaidh.

Torrey gave her a quick wave goodbye, which Lilidh returned. Even as her relationship with Cora seemed beyond any hope of salvation, Torrey was warming to her. It was a strange feeling to have something almost like a friend, to greet in the morning and say goodbye to after a long day. Lilidh decided she liked the feeling.

And then Cora’s voice cut through the air.

“Back to yer husband, aye?” she asked, mouth twisting.

Lilidh paused, feeling something take hold deep in the pit of her stomach. She knew Mathe was lying low, and they both accepted that it was only a matter of time before his return became common knowledge, but to hear it so bluntly from Cora made her feel cold. Torrey had also paused and looked over.

“That’s right,” Cora said in disgust. “I heard last night. The return of the monster MacBrennan.” She shook her head. “Just what this town needs.”

“Where did ye hear that?” Lilidh asked as calmly as she could.

Cora shrugged. “A friend told me. He spends time in those disgusting inns down in the auld quarter. I guess MacBrennan is up to his auld tricks again.”

“Lilidh, is it true?” Torrey asked.

Lilidh looked across at the girl who had worked by her side, shoulder to shoulder, and who had defended her against Cora. Torrey’s eyes were wide in disbelief, and Lilidh could see the fear that lay underneath. So strange, to be reminded that Mathe’s very name could still cause such a reaction in people.

“It’s true that he’s back,” Lilidh conceded, “but he’s a changed man, and most certainly no” up to his auld tricks.”

Cora laughed softly, shaking her head. “Ye are delusional, girl. I need to keep this job, so I willnae say what I really think, but ye are truly delusional. Men like MacBrennan dinnae change. They just wait. Now get gone out of my sight. Back to that murderer.”

Lilidh hesitated, wanting to defend Mathe, but instead remained silent and watched Cora storm out. She turned back to Torrey to explain, but the other girl shook her head almost sadly.

“Why didnae ye say anything?” she asked.

Lilidh felt tears sting her eyes and blinked them away almost angrily. “Ye heard Cora yesterday; people hate Mathe, whether he deserves it or no”. He had naught to do with her brother’s death, and yet she blames him all the same. How does Mathe even stand a chance against that kind of hatred?”

“Lilidh,” Torrey said slowly, “ye know MacBrennan did unforgivable things, dinnae ye?”

She almost laughed. “Better than anyone, Torrey, I lived with him and watched him change. And since he’s been back, I’ve watched him change again. I wouldnae be with him if I didnae believe he’s a better man.”

“If he changes so easily, what’s to say he willnae change back a third time?” Torrey asked. “Or if he’s actually changed at all?”

“He’s changed,” she said in a small voice, then turned and walked away with her head still held high. She could have argued, she knew. She could have defended Mathe and tried to convince Torrey, at least, but deep down she knew it was no use. To most of the people of the town, Mathe MacBrennan was, and always would be, a monster. She wanted to scream from the top of the castle about how he was with Fynn, and how he was with her. How he held her so gently and made her feel loved and precious once more.

But she knew it was hopeless.

And, at the back of her mind, the small nagging voice. How did Mathe’s return become known? She recalled the way he’d avoided the old quarter yesterday, checking behind him almost nervously, and that very night word had spread about his reappearance. Lilidh didn’t know what it meant, but something about the whole situation sent a shiver through her. Had he been seen and recognised? Was she ready for people to learn about Mathe’s return?

And what did it mean for herself and Fynn?

* * *

Lilidh skippedacross the wooden planks and onto the porch and opened the door. No sooner had she walked in than her son leapt up, holding the bucket proudly.

“Look, mama!” he cried. “I caught a fish.”

Lilidh pushed away the dark thoughts that clouded her mind and smiled down at her son. “Why Fynn, that’s wonderful. And such a large fish, too. Are ye sure it was ye who caught it?”

“It was me,” he replied indignantly. “Mathe helped scoop it up, but I caught it and pulled it in. I’m strong, mama.”

She laughed and pulled him into a hug. “Of course ye are.” She pulled back and looked around. “Where is Mathe?”

“He had to go,” Fynn said.

“Go?”

“Aye, he said he had business to take care of, and he’d see us both tomorrow.”

Lilidh frowned, then smoothed it away. “No” to worry,” she said lightly. “It’s just a pity that he’ll miss out on this wonderful fish.”

“We could take it to him,” Fynn suggested. “He keeps saying how much he loves yer neeps.”

“I’m no” sure,” Lilidh said uncertainly. “It sounds like he’s busy. Now, tell me about the rest of yer day while I prepare this fish.”

Fynn started his tale, telling her of their entire adventure, starting from the walk through town and into the woods, while Lilidh cleaned and cooked the fish. His words came out in a tumble, such was his eagerness to tell her everything.

“Wait,” Lilidh interrupted. “Say that again.”

Fynn looked up. “Somebody came and spoke to Mathe.”

“Where?”

The boy frowned. “Over at the auld building that was falling down.”

Lilidh nodded. He must have meant the old mill. But who would be speaking to Mathe outside of the town, down by the river? “Did he say who it was?”

“Aye, he said it was about that business thing. The… commission.” He spoke the last word proudly. “I said it, mama!”

“Aye, well done, Fynn. The commission. Did they speak for long?”

“Nay, only a few minutes. Then he came back, and that’s when I caught my fish!”

“What did he look like?”

“Auld,” Fynn replied. “He had long hair and a long beard. That’s all I could see.”

She nodded and gave him an encouraging smile, even while she felt a strange sickness in her stomach. She grimaced at the feeling, telling herself it was silly.

“What’s the matter, mama?”

Lilidh shook her head. “Naught, bhobain.” And perhaps she was right. It was more than likely a chance encounter, as Fynn said, and yet she found herself in a strange emotional state. Mathe was slightly vague when he first mentioned the commission two days ago. And then there was his reluctance at the edge of the old quarter yesterday. Cora’s words today, and now Fynn’s tale of a chance encounter. It was all likely nothing, and yet these things combined in Lilidh’s mind, growing into something larger than simply the sum of their parts. She wouldn’t have thought herself the type of person to read things into coincidence, but Lilidh knew she needed to find out, just for her own peace of mind. She wasn’t one for half truths or miscommunication and preferred to just get straight to the heart of the matter.

She needed to ask Mathe.

“Ye know, bhobain, I think I will take Mathe some of this fish over tonight.”

“Oh great,” he said, clapping his hands. “He’ll be so happy.”

“I’m sure he will be.” She plated up one serving and covered it with a dishcloth, then sat down and ate with Fynn. He was clearly enjoying himself, picking the fish apart and attacking it with his fork, but Lilidh couldn’t seem to focus on the meal. Her thoughts kept returning to Mathe, and the strange feeling she felt building inside. A slow sickness had bloomed in her stomach and wouldn’t cease, sitting heavy like a rock. She ate dutifully, forcing the food in, her appetite gone.

“All done, mama,” Fynn announced, patting his stomach. “I loved it.”

It was almost a pity Lilidh was feeling as poorly as she was, and wondered whether she should learn how to fish herself; the two of them could go down to the Dundonnell on her days off and catch dinner. The idea was strangely appealing. Then she stood with a sigh, put on her coat, and picked up Mathe’s plate.

“A little cold,” she said, “but it should still taste fine.”

“He’ll love it,” Fynn said.

“Aye. Well, ye stay here, and I’ll be back soon.”

“I will, mama. Tell Mathe I said hello.”

Lilidh slipped out into the night, her stomach roiling, feeling herself gripped by a strange sense of premonition. What would Mathe say when she confronted him? Did he have an innocent explanation, or would he deny everything as simple coincidence?

The beautiful day was a distant memory as she stepped out into a dreich evening. Rain swept across the ground in sheets, kicking up mist and drizzle, and Lilidh did her best to keep the food dry as she skipped across to the cobbled road. The air was foggy and visibility was low, with a fell wind cutting through her coat. She put her head down and hurried towards the West Gate and the warmth within.

She figured Mathe would be in the stables, so rather than go through the busy common room with a plate of her own food, Lilidh made her way to the alleyway at the rear of the building where the external stable doors were. As she approached, though, the door swung open. She couldn’t say why, but something made her pause and step to one side, into the shadow of an overhanging building, partly hidden behind a stack of wooden barrels. She peered around the side to see a dark shape emerge from the stables; tall, with a coat pulled up to cover his head against the rain. There was no mistaking who it was. As she watched, Mathe glanced around quickly, and she pulled back, heart suddenly hammering in her chest. Slowly, slowly, she looked back to see him walking away in long strides, head down.

Lilidh watched him leave and was suddenly torn. She could put his food in the stables for when he returned, or take it back and share it with Fynn, who wouldn’t likely refuse.

Or… she could follow Mathe.

The thought made her frown. She certainly wasn’t going to spy on her husband. Only, the strange premonition returned to her once again, and she was beset by doubt. Would it hurt, just to check where he was going on such a foul night?

With shaking hands, Lilidh put the plate down on a barrel, out of the rain, and followed Mathe into the fog.

He walked quickly and she needed to scramble to keep him in sight, lest he disappear altogether. The rain fell steadily on her and she could feel it run down under her coat. It wasn’t the proper thing to wear, but she also hadn’t expected to be sneaking around in such poor weather, and once again she asked herself what on earth she was doing.

Mathe paused in his walking, and she crouched behind a cart, looking through the spoked wheel. He turned in a full circle, looking around, and she held her breath as his eyes swept over her, but he gave no hint of recognition. It was a strange gesture, and if Lilidh didn’t know any better, she would have said he was checking for anyone following him. Had he sensed her, somehow? The sickness returned as she considered the only other option; that he simply didn’t want to be seen.

They made their way past the castle hill, and she couldn’t help but notice how he avoided the main avenues and wound through alleyways and smaller streets. He twisted and turned, picking directions seemingly at random, and more than once repeated his slow look around. Each time Lilidh darted behind something, but her nerves were ragged and she knew it was only a matter of time before he realised he was being followed.

And then, after one more desperate crouch, Lilidh peered out to see that Mathe had gone. She frowned, looking around, but he was nowhere to be seen. She sat back in the rain and shook her head. After all that, she’d let him get away.

Or had she? As she’d been following him, Lilidh couldn’t help but notice that despite the random path, Mathe kept heading to the eastern side of town, towards the old quarter. Her heart quaked at the thought, and yet she somehow knew deep down that it was his destination all along, despite the subterfuge.

Well, she supposed there was only one way to find out.

Lilidh abandoned the alleyways and went back to the Main Street, standing under an overhanging roof and counting slowly to one hundred to give Mathe enough time to wind his way to his ultimate destination. Then she set off, heading directly down into the old quarter.

Apart from the day before, when they’d skirted the edges, Lilidh didn’t think she’d ever been down to that part of town, and pulled her coat tighter. She’d heard all sorts of rumours about the type of things that happened down there and gave silent thanks that the rain would keep most people indoors tonight. It wasn’t a safe place for anyone, she suspected, but especially for a woman alone. No braziers would stay lit in this weather, and the night was full of dark shadows.

She heard the Dog Ear before she saw it; a cacophony of shouts and coarse laughter. The glow of the inn fell upon the squalid houses opposite, and Lilidh wondered if perhaps she didn’t have the worst house in town, after all. Down here, everything seemed dirty and rundown and refuse piled up in the corners of doorways. The cobbled street was slick and covered in mud, and she picked her way carefully towards the noise and the light. There was a bank of shuttered windows thrown open and so she crossed the street to stand in the shadow of the squalid house and looked in.

And there she saw Mathe.

Her chest tightened painfully as she watched someone pass him a tankard, and then the room erupted into a cheer. Cries of MacBrennan filled the air and then they chanted as Mathe tipped the ale into his mouth, taking the entire tankard in slow draughts, before slamming the empty cup down and wiping his lips.

Lilidh shook her head slowly from side to side, wrapping her hands around herself protectively as she watched.

Mathe laughing in his old, cruel laugh.

Mathe drinking and coaxing others to drink, shaking hands and receiving claps on the back.

Mathe standing tall and arrogant, wrapping himself in a persona that he’d sworn to her was long dead.

Nay, not Mathe. As Lilidh watched, she came to a most painful realisation that the man she watched wasn’t Mathe at all.

It was MacBrennan.

She pulled back and retreated, the sickness returning in full force, knowing she’d seen enough. She turned back towards home, having a sudden desire to hold Fynn close, her mind awhirl with what she’d just seen.

What was Mathe doing, to say he was a changed man, and then come down here and act as if he’d never left? Was everything he’d told her a lie? For one moment she felt suddenly helpless, adrift in the storm, and she knew just how much she’d come to care for Mathe MacBrennan once again. To see him as she just did was like a knife in her heart, a twisting betrayal, and it hurt beyond belief.

In the rain and the fog, Lilidh stumbled away.