Chapter 30
Jamie closed the door to his chamber, then pulled Sheena to his side, his hand resting possessively on her waist. Their eyes met, and Jamie smiled warmly. Sheena smiled back, and the smile stayed on her lips as they walked down the corridor.
Sheena was happy, truly happy for the first time in a very long time.
And Jamie? He had laughed in delight when she put her lovely gown back on and blushed to find it so full of wrinkles from lying where they had left it.
Everyone would know what they had been about. How could she dare return to the hall?
But she had seen the humor, too. What did it matter? They had been gone so long, everyone would know anyway. Either right then or in the morning, she would have to face their knowing. And Jamie was strutting so proudly, like a cock just come in from the henshed.
They passed the room where Sheena had stayed those last few days under guard.
But even that couldn’t put a damper on her mood.
How frightened she had been, and all for nothing.
Jamie would never hurt her. And now she could be herself again, without performing, without always being on her guard.
She wondered how Jamie would like the real Sheena Fergusson.
They approached the hall, but Jamie slowed suddenly, and Sheena looked up to find him frowning. Then she realized why. The hall was quiet, eerily so. Had everyone gone? Why?
“Jamie—” she started to ask, but he shushed her, and they continued down the stairs.
Confusion doubled when they entered the hall and found it not deserted at all. It was just as crowded as it had been. Yet the silence was oppressive. Most of the people were standing, and there was such a solemn look on every face that she felt prickles of unexplainable fear up her spine.
She didn’t want to go into that large room at all, but Jamie forced her with him to the middle of the two trestle tables, where everyone’s attention was centered.
Her father was there, as were dozens of Fergussons, all standing beside and behind him.
Black Gawain was there, and Colen, and many more MacKinnions than Fergussons.
Sweet Mary, they’re going to fight, she realized. But Jamie would stop it, Thank God they’d come in when they had! Why? What could possibly have happened to set the clans against each other again?
The reason lay at Black Gawain’s feet, and Sheena paled on seeing that it was Iain Fergusson, her cousin.
Blood spread across his chest, making it impossible to tell exactly where he had been wounded.
But wounded he was, and unconscious—or dead.
Dear God, not Iain. Such a kind man, so sensitive.
He cared nothing for fighting or raiding—only for his animals.
How many times had she and Niall spent whole days with Iain, learning habits of wild creatures, laughing over the antics of a beaver, awed by his great shaggy aurochs?
The noise started all at once, the accusations, denials, anger.
No one was making any sense, and it only got louder and louder, not clearer.
Everyone shouting at the same time made Sheena ready to scream.
But the figure of Jamie leaning down to examine Iain was more effective than any call for order could have been.
He was probably the first to see if Iain was still alive.
Jamie stood up at last, utter disgust on his face. “What madness is this?” he demanded. “You stand here glaring and shouting at each other while a man bleeds to death!”
“Is he dead, then?” Colen was the one to ask.
“Without tending, he will be ’afore long.”
Colen nodded and gestured to men to carry Iain to the hearth. Water would be heated there to clean his wound. But Dugald delayed that, obstinately instructing his own men to care for Iain.
Once Iain was carried away, Jamie stepped forward, growing angrier by the second. Such childish theatrics these were, intended as insult and taken as insult.
“I’ll no’ take issue with you, Sir Dugald, until I hear what has happened,” Jamie said with deliberate evenness of tone.
“Take issue all you want, MacKinnion. But if you’re wanting to know what happened, ask your man there. See if he dares tell the truth.”
Dugald’s finger was pointed at Black Gawain, and Jamie eyed his cousin with considerable surprise. “You? What have you to do with this? You werena even here for the wedding.”
“I came after you took your leave—and your pleasure—with your new bride.”
The rudeness of it was bad enough, but the unmistakable bitterness in Gawain’s voice disturbed Jamie. He was reminded of the spring raid, and how Gawain had behaved when he found his sister dead. Hell-bent on blood and revenge. Did he still hold that grudge? Had Iain been his revenge?
“You stabbed the man?” Jamie asked without preamble.
“I did.”
“An accident?”
“Nay.”
Jamie took a deep breath, holding himself in check. There was not an ounce of remorse in Gawain. If anything, he was belligerent on purpose.
“You’ll be telling me why.”
Jamie’s tone was sharp, leaving no mistake about his rising temper.
Black Gawain wisely took note of it and was less bellicose as he said, “You’ve no need to worry I was without cause, Jamie.
The man rose to attack me. If he was slow and cloddish and my dirk found him first, whose fault was that? The first attack was his.”
“But he wouldna have attacked you!” Sheena gasped. “I know Iain. He wasna a fighter.”
Jamie gave Sheena a sharp look. She was not to interfere.
“Who else can tell me what happened here?” he demanded, looking around.
“You doubt me, Jamie?” Black Gawain asked.
Jamie eyed him steadily. “Since when is only one side a fair accounting?”
“I can be telling you what happened here.” A Fergusson spoke up. “’Twas no’ the way he says.”
“You saw it all?” Jamie was being very careful.
“I was next to Iain at the table,” the man explained. “I couldna help but see it all.”
“And what part wasna as my cousin claims?”
“Nae part,” the man said without hesitating, his accent thickening with his emotion.
“The MacKinnion came, and nae sooner did he sit down, he started in on poor Iain. Boasting he was, of raiding us. Laughing, too, he was, over how many Fergussons he’d killed.
He was baiting Iain, and nae mistake. He should’ve come to my side, and he’d hae found what he was after.
But Iain was only disgusted wi’ his blathering.
He rose to leave, no’ to attack. He would’ve walked away if this one hadna gone for his dirk and stuck it in him. ”
Silence reigned once again. Sheena was appalled, believing her kinsman completely. Didn’t she know all too well what kind of man Black Gawain was? Hadn’t he attacked her, as well, without provocation? A different kind of attack, but still an attack.
Jamie was in a quandary, unable to believe it of his cousin. The same age, the boys had grown up together. Would Gawain deliberately provoke a fight? He couldn’t have changed so drastically in the months since his sister’s death, could he? There had to be more to it.
What was Jamie to do, take the word of a man he didn’t know over his cousin’s version?
Yet he had to make a decision. The tension in the room was getting very bad.
It was obvious that all his clan believed Black Gawain and the Fergussons believed their man.
Even young Niall stood on his seat, viewing the scene below with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Could Jamie stop the men from fighting?
“Were you looking for a fight, Black Gawain?” Jamie had to ask the question.
“No’ looking, but no’ backing down, either. If I had wanted to fight the Lowlander, I would’ve challenged him outright, no’ goaded him to it.”
Jamie sighed. His decision would not be greeted well by Sheena’s clan. “What we have then is an error in judgment, a misconstruing of simple actions. I’m thinking it can only be called an accident, however unfortunate it was.”
“Are you now?” Dugald spoke up, his face mottled with anger. “And I’m thinking we’ll be getting no justice here!”
“Concede. It was an accident, Sir Dugald,” Jamie offered in warning. “There are no’ enough witnesses to prove otherwise.”
“I need only one witness!” Dugald roared.
“I need more! This is not a clear case!” Jamie roared back.
“Then wait till Iain recovers!” Sheena shouted before her father could say anything else. She was torn apart, knowing where this was leading. She couldn’t stand it. And all over Iain, peace-loving Iain.
“To what end, daughter?” Dugald rasped. “The MacKinnion would only find other excuses no’ to mete out justice, even if the truth were clear.”
“I beseech you—”
“Nay!” Dugald cut her off sharply. “But dinna fear I’ll soil this day with vengeance. We’ll be leaving here, and you with us, ’afore there are more accidents.”
“She doesna go, Dugald.” Jamie’s voice was deceptively soft.
“She’s wed to you, MacKinnion.” Dugald glowered at him. “But by your own words, you did say she wouldna be forced to stay here.”
“She can leave—when I say. For now she stays.”
Sheena held her breath. Her father and her husband stared at each other for so long, not one more word passing between them, that she thought a battle was inevitable.
She knew her father was placed in an intolerable position.
It was either fight or back down. A Fergusson back down?
When his whole clan stood behind him? Yet, as always when against the MacKinnions, the Fergussons were outnumbered.
His face dark with rage, Dugald Fergusson turned on his heel and left the hall without another word.
Sheena was forced to watch the rest of her clan storm out of the hall.
Then Iain was carried out, still unconscious.
He was in no condition to be riding, yet ride he would, and probably die on the long trek home.
Even Niall did not look at her once as he left.
Sheena moved toward her brother. They had to have at least a few words before he left.
But Jamie’s restraining hand on her shoulder kept her beside him, and she could only stand there, unable to prevent it, while her family left.
Deep down she wondered if she would ever see them again.
Her chest ached, and she would have cried if not for the heavy hand on her shoulder. It reminded her that she was in the midst of the hated MacKinnions. She wouldn’t let the enemy see what this was doing to her.
“Sheena?”
Jamie’s voice was soft, and she was reminded of his earlier tenderness. Did he think nothing had changed? Didn’t he know everything was shattered?
She lifted his hand and shoved it away from her before she turned and looked squarely at him, her eyes filled with pain and condemnation. “Dinna touch me again, Jamie—ever,” she whispered brokenly, all her pain in her voice.
“Sheena—”
“Nay!” she sobbed. Nothing he could say would change any of it.
She ran from the hall before they were shamed in front of his kin. Jamie stared after her, wanting desperately to follow, to make her see his side of it, but he feared his own temper, so he didn’t move. He watched until she was out of sight.