Chapter Twenty-One
Having no funds to speak of made it unnecessary for Shane to waste any more time studying the books. All it did was frustrate him and make it impossible to catch his breath.
If he was going to be out of breath, he’d do so with a sword in his hand. Alec had left early that morning, so Shane went to the bailey to oversee the drills. He stepped up behind a large man named Fitz as the man was attempting to motivate the warriors of the MacPherson guard. Shane recognized the man by his wide smile. He’d been one of Alec’s friends, and like Alec, he’d grown to become a mountain of a man.
“I’ll spar with you,” Shane offered. “And when I beat you, I expect the next man to be waiting in line to get the same treatment.”
Fitz gave Shane a smug smile and shook his head. “You forget I’m not the squeaky-voiced lad you left behind.”
“Bigger men canna move as quickly. It means they just make bigger targets.”
The men gathered around them, making a circle. Shane guessed they might have cast wagers on the outcome if any of them had more than a coin to their names.
“We shall see.”
Shane knew a sound mind was better in battle, so he drew calm around him, blocking out the enthusiastic taunts from the other men. He focused on his enemy and did his best to remember he didn’t want to hurt him. Fitz moved first, as Shane expected, and Shane moved so his sword glanced off, then tapped the warrior in the back with his weapon. The men roared in laughter, making Fitz’s face turn red. He attacked again and again, and each time Shane was able to defend the attempt.
“You can protect yourself all day, but you will not win that way,” the man said.
“Perhaps not, but I also won’t lose, and when you have tired yourself out…”
Shane burst into action, spinning under Fitz’s thrust to come up at his side with his blade at the man’s throat.
“As I said, when you have tired yourself out, I have the advantage.”
Fitz laughed and pushed Shane away.
“Bloody bastard with your tricks,” he said with no anger.
“Who’s next?” Shane called. When no one moved, he decided to tempt them further. “If anyone bests me, I’ll give them my sword.”
The men looked at their sorry excuses for weapons and then at his claymore, the one given to him by his mother when he was only a lad. It had belonged to her brother, who’d been claimed in battle.
It was as fierce as it was beautiful. A winding thistle pattern could barely be seen on the blade. The same pattern was deeper across the hilt and handle, though the handle couldn’t be seen, since Shane had it wrapped in leather to aid his grip.
Another of the larger men came forward. Shane recognized him but couldn’t place the man.
“Get him, Paul!” someone called.
“Paul?” Shane stood straighter. He knew someone named Paul. He’d been a good friend of Ronan’s, and his sister…
“Aye, laird. I’m that Paul. And I’ve been waiting a long time to make things right for what you did to my sister.”
“Bloody Christ.” Shane jumped back as Paul attacked. He was much faster than Fitz and more bloodthirsty.
“We’re only sparring, Paul. Don’t kill the laird. Alec will be mad if he gets back and finds he’s in charge of the clan,” Fitz warned.
“The man defiled my innocent sister.”
“Do you have another sister besides Ruthie?” Shane asked as they circled each other.
“Nay.” Paul lurched forward, and Shane barely kept the blade from catching him in the side. “Just the one, thank heavens.”
“I hate to be the one to tell you, but Ruth wasn’t innocent when I was with her. She’s the one who taught me the way of things.”
“How dare you!” Paul’s blade clashed with Shane’s in a few swipes.
“It’s true.” Shane used the man’s forward momentum to send him to the dirt, then rested his blade on the man’s chest right next to his heart to keep him from standing up again. Shane glanced around the ring of men.
“Who else here has lain with his sister, Ruth?” Shane called out, knowing he wasn’t the first or the last.
Paul glared as at least a dozen men raised their hands.
Shane thought Paul might go after each of them, but the circle scattered when the gate was opened and a large group of people entered the bailey singing and laughing.
“What is this?” Shane asked the man leading the group. It was Munro, the blacksmith from the village. He gave Shane a wink as he gestured someone forward.
Two men stepped up carrying a large basket.
“A gift for the new laird from the village.”
Fitz and the rest of the group parted so Shane was standing before them.
“My laird,” the man said, and the other villagers whispered as they dipped a bow in Shane’s direction.
He wondered how many of them placed him as the soldier living in the cottage on the edge of the forest. If they told Lindsay… His gaze touched on each person, looking for his wife. He didn’t want her to find out who he was—not this way. But he didn’t see her among the crowd.
“I’m honored by your gift,” Shane said. Whatever it might be was generous, but he doubted it would fill his coffers. If it was food, even that large basket wouldn’t be enough to feed his people during the coming winter.
The lads set the basket down before Shane and pulled back the lid, presenting their gift. Shane gasped in surprise. Fitz came closer to peer inside as well.
“Bloody hell,” the man whispered. “It’s filled with arrows.”
Shane looked to Munro in confusion.
“A woman in the village is married to one of your men. She asked if I might help her make some arrows.” He turned about as if looking for someone. “Where did she go?” He shook his head. “Anyway, after she mentioned the threat of war with the MacColls, the lot of us decided it was important to make sure you and your men have what you need to protect the clan. We all did our part so you might do yours.”
Shane didn’t need to ask the name of the woman who’d prompted the village to make so many arrows. It was Lindsay. And his wife just may have saved them all.
…
Lindsay couldn’t seem to catch her breath as she rushed back to their cottage. She’d tried to refuse joining with the other villagers on their visit to the castle, but they’d insisted. They’d wanted her to accept her proper accolades for motivating everyone to help the clan. While that hadn’t been possible, she reluctantly agreed to go with them. She was sure to stay to the back of the group while their gift was delivered to the MacPherson laird.
Or rather, to her husband.
The MacPherson laird.
She’d not understood why he was accepting the gift from the villagers or why Munro called him “laird.” And then the truth seemed to punch her right in the chest, stealing her breath.
Inside their cottage, she looked at the bed where they’d shared their thoughts but not their secrets. Had he known all this time she was the woman he was supposed to marry? He’d lied to her. She realized she’d done the same, but she’d done so to protect herself while he’d done it… She wasn’t sure. As she paced in the small cottage they’d made a home, other things seemed to fall into place.
The way he’d gone up to the castle to help the laird each day. And how he’d come back to their tiny cottage. Why? Confusion soon turned to anger.
The dog whined at the door until she was let out. Lindsay worried she’d frightened the poor thing. She wasn’t certain what she should do next. She was already married to the man her father had contracted her to marry, so she no longer needed to worry what he would do when he arrived.
Lindsay considered getting into bed to pretend she was sleeping so she might avoid whatever was to come next, but she thought better of it. It was the coward’s way out. She was the laird’s wife. It was time to see to her duty.
After packing her few things, she went to find the dog so they could move to the castle, where they belonged. The place she’d been avoiding all along.
…
Despite Shane’s new arsenal of swords and arrows, he worried.
He’d thought he was doing the right thing. Making a formal request was the way to handle disputes with rival clans. State the infraction and give the other clan the opportunity to correct the situation. Or maybe in this case they’d respond that Deirdre wasn’t with them and they’d never met her. But if she was there and they refused to comply, the issue would escalate to the king. And he may do something, or he may not.
This was the way civil leaders acted. And if it were any other clan than the MacColls, it would be understood that Shane had no recourse but to reach out and request justice. But the MacColls didn’t fancy rules or care much for the way things were done. Still, he had to at least try to recover what his stepmother had stolen. He’d trust the system and hope it wouldn’t lead them to war.
He paced the floor in his study, stopping to look out across the lands that were now his for a sign of his brother.
Fitz came in to report the men had completed a successful hunting trip with the arrows that had arrived earlier that day. The salted venison harvested would help fill their stomachs when nothing else was available.
“Still no word from Alec?” the man asked.
“Nay. I don’t know what to think of his delay. Perhaps this plan won’t work after all.”
“What plan?” Tory asked as she stepped into the study. She may have been the last member of the clan who hadn’t heard. He hadn’t wanted to share the details until Alec returned. But rather than risk her hearing it from someone else, he let out a breath and told her.
“I’ve sent Alec to deliver a message to the MacColls. I’ve asked them to return Deirdre and the money she stole to me so justice can be served.”
Tory’s face went pale, and her gasp was so loud, he worried she might swoon. But his sister shook off her concern as her face pulled up in anger.
“Why would you do that? You know they might see it as a threat.”
Shane put a settling hand on her cool fingers.
“I spent a long time making sure my message couldn’t be considered a threat. I was careful with how it was worded so they’d see I was left with no choice in the matter but to seek her out.”
“But Ronan—”
“Ronan would help us, aye. But not as much as we would need for the clan to flourish. I’ll not empty his coffers unless there’s no other way.”
To his relief, his sister nodded.
“Aye. I understand. I stand by you always. Ye know that.”
He winked at the woman his little sister had become. “Thank you. That means more than you can know.” He held out his arms, and she came to give him a fierce hug. He wasn’t sure which of them needed the reassurance more. He suspected it was him.
“What of your wife?”
“What of her?” he asked.
“Ye have not told her who you are?”
“Nay. I’m not ready.”
“If you get the money back, will it be enough to release you from the contract father signed with the Wallace laird?”
Shane shrugged.
“I’m not sure. I hope so. If not, perhaps I can use some of it to offer a good faith payment and then repay the rest in grain next harvest. It would be better than nothing.”
Since he’d arrived, Shane had faced one problem after another, and he didn’t know that he’d solved any of them. Perhaps he was destined to fail his people. All he could do now was keep trying, and at night he’d go back to the cottage he shared with Lindsay and let her distract him until the sun came up again.
His thoughts went to Maria, and he realized he’d not thought of her recently. With everything else to consider, he’d not made time. The familiar guilt came over him, but not as painful as it had been. He had Lindsay to thank for that. In fact, he had Lindsay to thank for many things.
He couldn’t repay her by annulling their marriage so he could wed the daughter of the Wallace. He was crossing the hall, heading to the bailey and then for home, when the messenger came rushing in.
“The Wallace laird has arrived. Should we let him in?”
It seemed Shane had run out of time.