Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
“I’ll be back in a month’s time,” Aidan said to Tristan as the boy helped him gather his belongings and place them atop the bed to be packed away.
After three days at Seagrave, they were nearly ready to set sail. When Aidan opened his satchel, Tris went to the wardrobe, dragging his feet a bit to collect the few items Aidan had unpacked, as well as what he’d worn on his journey to Seagrave, which had been freshly laundered. Normally, the boy would swoop his hands across the shelf, happily returning with an overstuffed armload, but today he was dawdling, his mood wholly different.
“I should come with you,” Tristan said, handing Aidan a single shirt. “Papa says learning to sail our ships is vital.”
Aidan chuckled, then sobered seeing how crestfallen Tristan was, shifting his sights to the floor. He laid a hand on the boy’s head, gently tilting it back so he could look him in the eye .
“I was laughing at your father, not you,” he said. “And you’ve got a very valid point. Learning to command the MacGreggor ships is a must, but—and this is a very important but—I believe right now your mama needs you here, especially with your aunt, uncle, and cousins leaving, too.” Aidan knew that this last thing was the root of Tristan’s melancholy. “Ensuring the safety of one’s family is of the utmost importance,” he said, leveling Tristan with a serious look.
At this, Tristan stood up straighter, as having a noble cause was wont to make one do. “You’re right. My duty is here.”
“Aye. For now.”
“Do you think they’ll learn before I do?”
Ah, another worry now revealed, that his younger cousins might outpace him. Aidan was careful not to laugh again. “I don’t believe this is the trip on which your aunt and uncle will apprentice your cousins on nautical arts.”
The boy didn’t seem so sure, and frankly, neither was Aidan. Sailing ran in the blood of MacGreggors and Montgomerys alike. In this, only time would tell.
“Swords or arrows?” Aidan asked, thinking to give the boy a distraction as they still had some time.
“Both,” said the little mercenary, and this time Aidan did chuckle.
After an hour or so in the courtyard with Tristan, Aidan made his way back inside the keep. He was besieged the moment he stepped upon the stone floor. First, it was Anna, inquiring about the household items on their inventory catalogue. Next, Lady Madelyn, imploring him to safeguard a carefully packed trunk, freshly stocked with potions and such. And on the heels of her departure, came Isabelle, with a flurry of questions (all which her husband could have answered for her) regarding their quarters on the ship, followed by a request to stop in Ayr, conditions permitting, and to look at their proposed course of travel. Aidan remained patient through each question and request, most of which had been previously addressed. He understood that while this move was in truth a happy occasion, in the end, the family was separating.
Grateful for a lull in the commotion once Isabelle stepped outside, Aidan lifted his hood. He heard Gwen snicker, “That helps” and turned to see her watching the whole ordeal, with Greylen at her side. Aidan gave her a sheepish smile and pushed his hood back. Gwen laughed again in response and made her exit as Greylen motioned Aidan toward his study. Certain that Grey had been subject to his own form of besiegement, Aidan gladly followed him down the hall, and hopefully to a prolonged moment or two of quiet.
As they entered Grey’s study, Gavin, who was waiting inside, seated at Grey’s desk, rose, ceding the chair. Old habits that were reminiscent of a time when Gavin was Greylen’s first in command. Aidan sat in one of the two chairs facing Grey’s desk, shifting his legs as Gavin made his way to the other. Aidan accepted a stack of papers from Gavin, a sheaf of shipping logs, details on the crew and course, and results from the most recent inspection.
Two ships were set to sail for Abersoch, one purposed for supplies, as well as the last of the luxuries Isabelle and Gavin were taking with them; the other would carry their most precious cargo, their four children. With the local authority at each port handsomely compensated, the plan was set: the ship carrying Isabelle and the children would lay anchor in the cove at Abersoch, with the cargo ship docking in a neighboring port. As they neared their destinations, it was decided that Gavin would transfer to the cargo ship to make his permanent presence known at the public dock. From there, he would oversee the transfer of their goods by land, which was much more convenient than doing so by long boat. Everything in the logs looked in order until Aidan reached the page that showed that Gavin had stationed him on the cargo ship.
“Nay.” Aidan shook his head, taking a quill from Grey’s desk to make the change. Until now, their journeys by sea had required the use of only one ship. “We’ve two ships. Isabelle and your children. I sail with you. Alan and Richard can sail on the other ship.”
Technically Aidan wasn’t pulling rank, though he could, being that he had been charged with installing the Montgomerys in their new seat. However, since it was Gavin who was behind the commission, it was a little hazy. His decision, however, was met with nods from both Gavin and Grey.
With their final plans settled, Aidan tossed the revised passenger list on Grey’s desk, and sat back, eyes closed, to enjoy that moment of quiet he’d sought before. At the distinct sound of heavy, purposeful footsteps heading their way, he cracked an eye open and exchanged a knowing look with Grey and Gavin. They all mouthed the name Alex at the same time. With a commanding presence that only Grey could come close to matching, Alex had worked his way quickly through the ranks, earning a coveted place among the inner circle some years ago. Alex had come to them from the MacPhersons to the south, distant kin of Dar’s mother Ella. Eager to serve, he had soon proved his worth—he was an accomplished swordsman, to say the least. Though he’d once been a man with a ready smile and well-timed wit, after Gwen’s abduction, any trace of lighthearted ease vanished, and his sole pursuit became the protection of Seagrave, the MacGreggors, and most especially, Gwen.
Aidan realized he hadn’t seen Alex that morn, and taking in his appearance now as he charged through the study, it was clear he’d been out riding patrol.
“The Fitzgeralds crossed MacGreggor land at dawn,” he said in lieu of greeting. “They’ll be cresting the hill momentarily.”
Aidan shook his head when Grey glanced his way. “They’re not here by my invitation,” he said. Aidan had had every intention to speak with the brothers on his way to Abersoch, but that was before Gavin had sent word to Pembrooke about their change in plans and before the conversation over breakfast two days past. With a sigh, he rose now to deal with their unexpected arrival. The other men followed, and they’d barely taken two steps down the hall when Gwen and Isabelle came rushing toward them.
“What’s going on?” Isabelle said, only slightly out of breath. “Your men just joined Kevin and Ian on the steps and they’re not exchanging pleasantries. They’re in war mode.”
Aidan wasn’t surprised. If Henry, Alan, and Richard stood ready for battle, despite that it was altogether unnecessary, Grey’s men would comply, reason or not. “It seems the Fitzgerald brothers have come for my answer,” Aidan told the women, and was unsurprisingly met by expressions of alarm.
“You’re not still thinking about it—about Judith—are you?” Gwen asked.
Aidan gave her his best glare, which she rightly interpreted, quickly rearranging her face and smiling brightly as Alex looked his way, apparently waiting to be clued in. Surprised it wasn’t common knowledge by now, he told Alex of the latest conditions the Fitzgeralds had added to the agreement Aidan had held with their father, the whole unpleasant tale, as they headed outside, joining what appeared to be half of Seagrave’s inhabitants. Apparently, some sort of news had traveled after all, and they were eager for sport.
Aidan took his place atop the steps, flanked by Grey and Gavin, their men an impenetrable wall behind them. Quite obviously thinking they should be allowed a prime view of the action, Gwen and Isabelle squeezed up next to their husbands, Gwen struggling to position herself best, rounded belly and all, a few swear words escaping her lips as she did so. Aidan wasn’t the only one trying to keep a straight face, knowing that even affectionate laughter would draw her ire. Luckily, for them, the riding party was escorted into the courtyard just then, and the men gently pushed the women behind them again.
Still as stone, Aidan waited, wondering at this latest ill-conceived approach from the Fitzgerald brothers. They truly suffered discipline and direction in the wake of Robert’s loss, and mayhap never had it to begin with. Why the urgency of getting his answer?
The brothers dismounted, sauntering forward with exaggerated swagger, and clearly no idea of their precarious circumstances. If he hadn’t witnessed it himself, Aidan would never have believed such gall, such blatant disrespect. He felt a moment of sorrow for Judith, who was at least nothing like her brothers. The pang gave Aidan pause—because along with it came the consideration that he did have the power and opportunity to take her away from them. Odd, but it was the first time he’d felt anything at all regarding the match, temporary though it was.
Gil, the younger Fitzgerald brother, spoke first. “We’ve come for your answer.”
Obviously. Aidan had planned to decline their proposal, yet suddenly all he could think of was their sister, and any harm that might befall her because of his rejection. They would surely take it as an insult, and he had a feeling they would blame Judith. Not that he was suddenly entertaining the thought of marrying her, but he also didn’t want any harm to come to her. Faced with the brothers so blatantly now, however, Aidan did realize that for months, he’d been utterly and wholly indifferent to the proposition. He should have put it together, for that in and of itself was significant.
“Retreat, while you’re still able,” he said. “I’ll add ‘respectfully,’ in deference to your sister.” With ships to sail, a family to install into their new seat, and many moving parts to make any of it happen, Aidan didn’t have time for this.
Gil looked over toward Nigel, his elder by just two years. Nigel glowered but nodded slowly.
“Aye. We will go. You’re clearly too…preoccupied to see your error in judgment,” Gil said. “But we’ll be back. You owe us, Sinclair.”
Aidan kept a stoic expression, but inside was marveling at their impudence. These boys would be their own downfall. “I owe no one,” he said. “And let me be clear, I knew your father well enough to know, this ,” Aidan said, motioning with his chin toward the brothers, “shames his memory.” The last was an insult, and they knew it.
They stepped forward as if to challenge him, showing yet another level of stupidity. Luckily for them, the men they traveled with, held them back.
Still, Gil spouted, “Until we have your answer, you’ll stay off our land. Our agreement is over. ”
A round of sirs was called from the line of soldiers behind them. Aidan answered since the insult was directed at him.
“Don’t kill them,” he said, and with that, Aidan dismissed the Fitzgeralds entirely.