Chapter Twenty-Six
Shane had been injured once in France. When he’d woken in the hospital, he’d been surrounded by the groans of injured and dying men. He’d wished his wife was by his side.
He was thinking of that when he tried to open his eyes to ask for water. He swallowed and forced the word from his throat. “Agua,” he asked in Spanish. “Por favor.”
“Uh. Water? That’s what you asked? I’m sorry, my Spanish is not good,” the woman said.
Lindsay. He recognized her voice, and everything came flooding back. He was in Scotland, not France. He’d been in a battle with the MacColls, and his clan had won. His eyelids fluttered open as he forced himself to look at her, eager to make sure she was well.
“Are you…?”
“All is well. I’m glad you’ve chosen to wake up.”
Her voice trembled on the last word, and he reached out for her hand. For all the anger and confusion and mistrust they’d shared, he was heartened to see she’d worried over him. She cared. Her warm palm pressed against his cooler one. He felt a small, warm weight against his opposite hip and managed to look down to see the dog sleeping against him on his bed in the castle. If he’d had the strength, he may have shooed her away. But he imagined he wasn’t in any condition to argue at the moment and let the little dog rest.
“Alec?” he asked.
“He is well. He’s seeing to things with the men. The MacColls have been defeated or surrendered.”
“How many men did we lose?”
“I-I’m not sure. Some. I will ask my father when he returns.” She frowned, and he thought maybe she’d heard more but didn’t want to tell him. He didn’t press; he wasn’t certain he was ready to hear the tally anyway.
Whatever the number, every life lost was his fault, as if he’d drawn his blade against their throats himself. He should have anticipated his letter would lead to war. He’d felt like it was the best way to recover their losses, but now…
He remembered something his father had told him after catching him ordering his brothers around as the heir—that being a good leader wasn’t about ordering people about and sitting on your arse while others serve you. Every order given should be thought out fully. Every ruling had a repercussion. And every decision had the opportunity to be a mistake. Wise words from a man who’d abandoned the idea of leadership and being responsible for his clan. Shane remembered them.
He was now the laird of the MacPhersons, as well as what was left of the MacColls who had pledged loyalty to him, and now, while the MacColls had surrendered, he’d go to Collier to claim the castle as his. But it would mean he had two clans to feed and see through the winter with no money. He hadn’t anticipated that outcome. It seemed like everything he did as laird turned out to be the wrong thing—including the secret he’d kept from his wife, that he was indeed the very laird.
When he asked to stand up, she offered her support as he took a few steps. His body was stiff and the stitches pulled with each movement, but he was up and moving about.
“You scared me last night,” she said as he stretched a bit. “Your skin turned warm, and I thought for sure you’d start a fever, but then a few hours later your skin cooled, and now you’ve woken up.”
“You must have done a fine job of cleansing the wound. That’s what Bess has always said.” He smiled at his aunt hovering by the door.
“She used all of my whisky,” his aunt complained with a smile.
“As the healer from my clan taught me.”
Shane tilted his head, thinking the method odd, not to mention a waste of good whisky, but he couldn’t argue the results, so he shuffled along toward the door with Tre and the two women following along.
“Ye should rest,” Lindsay said.
Shane nodded. “I will. But there’s something I must see to first.” Shane made his way to the steps, stopping twice to put a hand on the wall when he swayed. It seemed he’d lost a lot of blood, which was surely missed. Slowly, he made his way downstairs and into chaos.
Tory met him as soon as he entered the hall, which was teeming with people. “You’re looking recovered, brother,” she said, though her wince made it less convincing.
“What is all this?”
“Many of the MacColls from Collier have already come here in the hope of finding better living conditions. I set the warriors to hunting to keep us in venison, pheasants, and rabbits so we can feed everyone. They brought a wagon near to full of turnips to pay loyalty to you, and the kitchens are making good use of those. We just need homes for them. Until then, I shall set them up in the great hall and the bailey.”
“Thank ye, sister, for taking to the running of things while I was away. You’ve done well.”
“Nay, it wasn’t me. It was Lindsay. Between carrying for ye and advising me, I don’t think she’s slept at all.” Despite her anger with him, she’d tended him and ran the clan while he’d been abed.
“I see you’re up,” the Wallace laird said.
“Thanks to your daughter, things have been seen to while I was down.”
The man frowned and went on without a word of acknowledgment that his daughter was capable of such things. Was this how Lindsay had lived, with a man who refused to spare a word of encouragement or pride?
“What are ye to do with all these mouths to feed?” Wallace said.
“I’m not sure. I only just now found out they had come here. Let me think on the situation, and I’ll come up with a solution.”
The man snorted and walked off.
Tory glared after the man. “He doesn’t think a woman can do anything but sit by and smile. I’m not sure how Lindsay endured it.” Their own father had always said Tory didn’t need anything inside her head so long as her face was bonny.
“It seems to be the way of lairds to underestimate their daughters.”
“If ye are blessed with a lass, make sure you don’t do the same,” she said before heading off to see to a young couple who’d just entered the hall.
Shane knew better. He knew how well Tory looked after things until he was forced to stay at the castle. He also knew how clever his wife was, and he would seek her advice to select the best path forward.
“Where is Alec?”
“He’s gathering the MacColl warriors and sorting them as to their loyalty.”
“Dare I ask what he’s doing with the men who still pledge fealty to the MacColls?”
She scrunched up her nose. “So far, I’ve not heard of any who have.”
While Shane was glad the war seemed at an end, it meant more people to care for and still no funds. He needed to get to Collier and see what was there to salvage. Surely, Deirdre hadn’t been able to leave with everything.
Tory pointed toward the door. “He’s out in the bailey.”
Shane nodded and headed in that direction, not sure what to take care of first. He felt overwhelmed and wished he could return to the small cottage on the edge of the village and talk to Lindsay until his worries drifted away in kisses and heat. Those days were likely over in exchange for the cold marriage of a laird and his lady. He didn’t want that, but what did she want?
In the bailey, he found the gates standing open. Through them, he spotted small camps of people. More of the MacColls he was now responsible for. He didn’t yet know what he would do with everyone, but Collier Castle still sat unclaimed, and Shane was going to take it and any spoils it held. While he didn’t look forward to sitting a horse or a long ride in his state, there was nothing for it.
He needed to leave straightaway.
“Alec, gather half the men and get them ready to leave for Collier within the hour. We will claim the castle.”
“Will you be joining us, brother?” Alec frowned at the blood staining the side of his shirt.
“Aye. I need to see what is there. I can better prioritize what’s needed after seeing the holding and claiming it for the MacPhersons.”
Alec was still frowning but gave a single nod before shouting the order for the men to line up. A second order went to a boy who ran off to the stables to inform the stablemaster the mounts needed to be brought to the bailey.
Shane went inside to look for his wife. He wanted to commend her for all she did and tell her he wanted to talk out their troubles when he returned, but he didn’t see her in the hall and didn’t want to use up his strength to return upstairs.
Wallace headed him off as Shane looked for Tory to give her a message for Lindsay. “What will ye do?” he asked. “Ye’ve even more people now and still no way to provide for them all.”
“Aye,” Shane said. He wanted to roll his eyes. Did this man think him so daft as to not see the trouble he was in? It seemed everything he did was the wrong choice. Every step he’d taken north from France had been fraught with wrong decision after wrong decision. But it was too late to retreat. He could only go forward. “I will find a way. That is all I can do.”
It seemed simple enough, though Shane knew it was truly impossible. Unless they could find Deirdre and their money, they wouldn’t make it through winter. So that was what he’d do. Assess Collier and then turn every resource on finding Deirdre.
The other man scoffed, and Shane didn’t blame him for his reaction. This man’s daughter was at risk if Shane couldn’t find a way to save the clan. If ever he became the father of a lass, he’d wish for the same thing as Wallace: that she be protected and cared for. It was the smallest thing a husband promised his wife, and it seemed neither of them were certain he’d be able to manage it.
“I must go. Tell Lindsay…” There was so much he wanted to say to his wife. Yet no words came to his lips. “I will return.”
And with that he left the hall, the castle, and his land in search of a miracle.
…
Lindsay was assisting the other women in getting as many rooms ready as possible. In this situation, it hardly seemed right for Lindsay to take up a room that could be used for others when she could surely share one with Shane, as they had previously. And if that thought gave her stomach an odd twist, she ignored it in favor of focusing on her work.
In the hours she’d tended to him, it had been easy to remember the man he’d been. The one who was given to fits that ruined his sleep. The ease with which he’d slumbered had worried her, but he seemed well enough now.
She’d seen the way he’d looked at her earlier as if he wished to say something but wasn’t sure of the words. She felt much the same. There was so much standing between them. All their lies, their duties—and then there was the matter of his heart. He’d given it to another, and what pieces might be left had not been offered to her.
“Lindsay!” She heard her name bellowed from the hall.
“In here, Father.”
The Wallace laird filled the doorway, startling the other maid, who scurried away as soon as the opening was clear.
“What are you about, doing a maid’s work?” he grumbled.
“If you’ve not noticed, there are many heads downstairs in need of beds. I’m doing what needs doing.”
He shook his head. “This was a mistake. I had no idea this clan was in such a state. I’d never have sent you here had I known. I should have taken your letters more seriously. I don’t think your mother would forgive me if I left you here. We will leave in the morning for home. I’ll have this farce of a marriage dissolved, and we’ll find you a proper husband—one who can take care of ye the way a husband should.”
Lindsay’s first thought was joy. It was what she’d wanted all this time, and she was pleased to hear her father regretted marrying her off, which she guessed would be as close as she would ever get to an apology.
But after the words sunk in further, she found herself clenching her hands, ready to protest. Had the MacPhersons become her home? Her family? Did she want to leave?
As if expecting an argument, her father cut off what she opened her mouth to say. “The man has gone off to claim Collier Castle, as if he will find the answers to his problems there.”
Her father shook his head, but Lindsay was shaken by his words. “Shane has gone?”
“Aye. With all the things to do here, he rushed off to pile more onto his already large heap of problems. Nay, I’ll not leave you here to be worked to the bone and grow sick with hunger.”
“Can you not help set Cluny to rights?” She knew he’d already paid her dowry and that those funds had been spent or stolen. But her clan, while not rich, was well-funded. Her clan.
Again, he shook his head.
“I already paid the dowry, and it’s gone. I’ll not receive the goods promised in exchange and will need to use my funds to feed our own clan after such a loss. The best I can do is not demand what is owed back to me. I’ll not take the castle.” He sniffed as he looked about with disdain. “The last thing I need is to take over this clan in the sorry shape it’s in.”
“But I might be able to help,” Lindsay said.
Her father laughed. “You owe him nothing.”
Was that true? She was interrupted from saying anything else when Tory entered the room after knocking lightly on the door. “A letter has arrived for you.”
Tory’s green eyes seemed to say something as Lindsay grabbed up the note and flipped it over to see the seal. Disappointment and anger rushed through her. It wasn’t from Shane.
“Did Shane leave a note or a message?” Lindsay asked, hating the desperate edge to her voice.
“Nay. I didn’t know he’d even left until I went looking for him a little while ago.” She frowned before saying, “Mayhap he was afraid we would tell him he shouldn’t be riding yet.”
Or mayhap he didn’t care enough to even tell his wife he was leaving. Unsure what to think, she opened the letter and began reading, only vaguely hearing her father dismiss Tory with a “That will be all.”
Lindsay read the letter quickly and let out a small squeak of surprise at hearing her dear cousin was with child and would deliver in the next month. She asked Lindsay to come visit before cold weather descended on the Highlands and they were both stuck where they were until spring.
Lindsay considered asking Shane when he returned if a visit to the MacKenzies would be prudent and then remembered how her husband had gone off without consulting her or so much as saying goodbye. “I’ll be ready to leave in the morning,” she told her father.
…
After a fitful night’s sleep, Lindsay rose shortly after dawn and dressed. She still wasn’t sure how long she’d be gone or if she ever planned to come back. Just in case, she’d packed her trunks, and as her father saw to having them loaded in the carriage, Lindsay took Tre to the village to leave the little dog with her small cousins.
She paused at the path that would have led her to the cottage. She longed to go there, to continue living that life. But it had been nothing more than a lie.
In the bailey, her father was mounted and ready to go.
“I should say goodbye to Tory,” Lindsay said.
“Nay. I’m ready to go. We leave now.”
Lindsay sighed, and after deciding the other woman was probably busy in the kitchen, seeing to the morning meal, Lindsay decided she wouldn’t risk her father’s mood another moment.
The sun painted the horizon pink and purple as they rode for the MacKenzie stronghold. Looking back over her shoulder, Lindsay wondered if she would ever return. Her father had offered the very thing Lindsay had wanted weeks ago, but everything had changed since then, and then changed again and again.
What she knew was she needed time to heal from the wounds Shane had caused, first with his plan to end their marriage, and then with his silent abandonment. He’d not left so much as a note, so she’d done the same, leaving with no promise to return and no words to know what their future might hold.
A few days later, they arrived at Castle Leod, and Lindsay paused to take it in. She’d hoped for some sign to tell her this was the place she was supposed to be, but it was just a gray stone castle, much like the one she’d left.
“Are we to stand here or move up to the gate?” her father snapped after they’d been standing on the rise for some time. His mood hadn’t improved when he’d learned of her desire to visit Meaghan, but he’d accompanied her all the same. Hearing his disapproval of Shane had forced Lindsay to defend him, which had caused a great number of arguments along their travels until they’d both resolved to stay silent.
She needed only to ride down the small hill, and they would let her in. Her cousin would welcome her with open arms, and she could start a new life here if she wished to. No longer with her husband, but not with her father, either. It was what she thought she’d wanted that morning, but now she wasn’t so sure. If given her choice, she wished she could go back to the time before she knew who her husband was. She wanted to live in oblivious happiness once more.
But that wasn’t an option, so she nudged the horse into movement and went to face her future.
As expected, Meaghan was pleased to see her. Her husband, Joshua, was a pleasant fellow, just as big as Shane but with blond waves instead of Shane’s sable locks. She shook off the comparison and forced a smile on her face as the couple welcomed them inside the keep to meet a few of her friends.
She was given a room in the castle while her father was pleased to visit with the MacKenzie laird. They’d missed the nooning; a tray and a bath were brought to her room. It was a lavish welcome, and she was grateful, but she missed taking a quick dip in the frigid river with her husband to get clean. She was dressed in a fancy gown from her trunks and was surprised how it seemed her life with the MacPhersons had almost been wiped away.
“You look much better,” Meaghan said as she came to check on her before supper. Lindsay was not looking forward to eating in the hall with the rest of the MacKenzie clan. She was a new guest and would therefore be stared at as some oddity. She said as much to her older cousin, who laughed.
“You are not the only guest among us, though the other will not be a guest for long. In fact, if you’ve come from the MacPhersons, ye may know her already.”
Lindsay tilted her head as Meaghan went on.
“Lady Deirdre MacPherson has stolen our laird’s heart. They’ll be wed in a fortnight. She is the late MacPherson laird’s widow, we’ve been told.”
Lindsay’s eyes widened in surprise, and she pulled her cousin to the side of the corridor.
“Deirdre MacPherson is here?”