Chapter 36
The loveliest, most wonderful feeling, to be bathed in soft cloud, as if you were floating high above the reality of the world in a mystical heaven.
Sheena experienced that feeling as she walked along the battlements late in the afternoon.
It had been that way most of the day, thick clouds coming down to surround the castle.
At times she’d had to stop, unable to see a foot in front of her.
And she could see nothing at all beyond the walls.
Yet she could look down into the courtyard and see clearly, for, of course, the clouds did not gather there, only over it, like a ceiling.
She was watching another group of guests leaving.
That was probably the last of them, except for the Martins, who intended to visit for a while.
Jamie would be sorely displeased. He had wanted the festivities to continue for a week or more, but the prevailing atmosphere had not encouraged festivity.
The guests had been quite uncomfortable amidst the hostilities of bride and groom.
It was Sheena’s fault, she knew it. Jamie had tried to appear in good spirits that day. Perhaps he really was enjoying himself after his victory of the night before. But Sheena had made little effort.
The possibility that she might always want Jamie was absurd, wasn’t it? Yet something had been proven the night before, and the truth of it was hard to bear.
She hated Jamie—didn’t she? It certainly felt like hate. If it wasn’t hate, what was it? How could she feel such pleasure from his touch? She couldn’t reason it out.
Sheena heartily wished she could float away with the clouds and forget it all, her marriage, Jamie’s claim on her, everything.
Of course she couldn’t. She would have to go back to the hall eventually and suffer through another painfully solemn meal.
And then later—where could she hide that he couldn’t find her?
Perversely, a small voice asked if she really wanted to hide.
Sheena shivered in the cold and wrapped her cloak tighter as she watched the Keiths riding through the gate.
Could they see to make their way down the mountainside?
From her perch on the wall, she couldn’t tell.
She would miss Thais and her cheerful banter.
But perhaps it was better that the guests were gone.
Maybe Jamie would settle the matter that had cast the pall over their wedding.
Settle it one way or another. She couldn’t bear the suspense, the constant worry over her family.
“You should be leaving as well, ’afore there are more deaths because of you.”
Sheena gasped. She didn’t have to turn around.
She knew that vengeful voice behind her.
She ran, ran as fast as she could, before Black Gawain decided to help her leave.
It would be so easy to claim that she had stumbled because of the thick clouds and fallen over the wall.
An accident. Who could say it hadn’t been accidental?
When she reached the warmth of the hall, she was still trembling. But she was safe there, and the trembling subsided. If she could say nothing else for Jamie, at least his presence made her feel secure.
Jamie didn’t speak to her when she sat down by his side.
His mood had indeed soured with the parting of nearly all his guests.
He took no notice of her pallor, acknowledging her presence with a grunt and then resuming his conversation with Dobbin.
At least Daphne and Lydia were there to keep her company, and to help her ignore the presence of Jessie, who was sitting next to Dobbin.
It might have continued fairly comfortably, each ignoring the other, if Black Gawain hadn’t put in an appearance.
He wasn’t there just for the evening meal; Sheena sensed that.
Her eyes were fastened on his face, mesmerized by the malevolence of him.
Daphne was talking to her, but she didn’t even hear.
Reaching the table, Gawain stood directly behind Jamie’s chair and announced as loudly as he could, “Hamish has succumbed to his wounds. He is dead.”
Jamie turned around instantly. “Are you sure?” he asked simply, quietly.
Gawain nodded. “The question is, what will you be doing about it?”
It took great daring to demand that of James MacKinnion. Black Gawain was either a fool or simply beyond all caution.
It was Colen who shoved the question aside angrily. “Is that all you can think of when a kinsman has just died? Can he no’ be buried first?”
“If your brother had been thinking of the clan, instead of his new bride, there would be no need for burying at all” was Gawain’s blistering reply.
There were shocked mutterings. Was the fool looking to be buried himself? How did he dare cast aspersions against Jamie?
Quite slowly, Jamie stood, until his face was only inches above Gawain’s, and very close. Gawain had to look up to meet those cold hazel eyes.
“For a tacksman, cousin, you take a lot upon yourself,” Jamie said smoothly. “I’m thinking you forget whose blade it was that pierced a Fergusson, when they were one and all under my protection.”
“And you forget I was provoked!” Gawain fumed.
Jamie’s voice was but a whisper. Only Gawain heard him say, “No’ forgetting, just doubting now—as I did then—that there was any provocation at all. Need I make myself clearer, Gawain, or do you see the action I should have taken was against you?”
Gawain lost some of his bluster. He turned quite pale, and Sheena would have given anything to know why. But she hadn’t heard.
“Have a care, Gawain,” Jamie added more loudly. “You would do well to leave my presence while I’m still inclined to let you.”
Black Gawain saw the wisdom in that, but he couldn’t resist a parting shot. “She’s bewitched you, Jamie. You’ve no’ seen things in perspective since she came here. Retaliation is called for, yet you let her sway you. She’s turned you soft, man. There’s no other explanation.”
Jamie held himself in check to keep from responding.
For the truth was, he still wasn’t certain what had happened that day, his wedding day.
It was time to be certain, though, time to stop procrastinating and do something.
Black Gawain’s accusation rang true, and Jamie resented it bitterly.
Maybe he had let Sheena influence his judgment.
There was no excuse for that, even if he hadn’t been aware of it at the time.
“Jamie?”
He looked at Sheena but couldn’t bear seeing fear in her eyes yet again. Besides, he needed space to breathe, to think. He couldn’t do that with her asking questions he couldn’t answer. Without another word to anyone, he left the hall.
It was the middle of the night when Jamie finally came to their room, and she was waiting for him. She found out what he’d decided on more easily than she wanted to. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot as she watched him gather weapons, knowing whom those weapons would be used against.
“So you’ve let him goad you into it?” Sheena whispered in a strained voice.
Jamie wouldn’t look at her. “I’ve delayed long enough. It must be done.”
She felt lifeless, dead, except for the pain that wouldn’t stop.
“I’ll no’ be here when you return.” Her words fell out of her, one over the other.
Jamie swung around, his eyes blazing. “You’ll be here, Sheena, or you’ll be wishing you were dead when I find you. And find you I will!”
She caught her breath. On top of everything else, he dared threaten her! Life rushed back into her, and she flew off the chair where she had been sitting for hours, waiting for him.
“Wish I were dead? I wish I were dead now! Aye, dead, instead of married to you!”
“Careful, Sheena—”
“Or what?” she shouted. “You’ll kill me? Better me than my kin!”
Jamie turned away. He had no intention of killing her kin. He’d meant only to talk to Dugald, but he was too angry to say so.
“I’ll no’ be swayed again!” he growled, more to himself than to her.
Sheena ground her fists into her temples in utter frustration. “I hate you for the fool you are, James MacKinnion,” she hissed. “I’m my father’s firstborn! You know how he feels about me. Knowing that, how can you believe he would attack you, leaving me here to suffer for it? Don’t you see?”
“You’ve no’ suffered!”
“But he canna know whether I have or no’. He wouldna risk it! Can you no’ see that?”
If Sheena had been distraught and crying, he might have relented and reassured her. But she was too angry to cry, and he was too angry to acknowledge the sense of what she said. Still, he couldn’t leave her like that. He caught her to him, and his kiss was as furious as their tempers.
And then he shoved her from him, holding her at arm’s length. “I’ll be talking to Dugald first,” Jamie told her curtly. “But I make no promises beyond that.”
He gathered the last of his things and walked out of the room. Then, finally, tears came to Sheena. They racked her, the tears and her desolation.