Chapter Twenty-Seven
After Freyja left her, with instructions she should rest until supper, Roisin went to the window, with Ecne in her arms. It was foolish beyond measure that she was hoping to see Hugh in the courtyard, since for all she knew he could be anywhere in the manor or beyond, and yet she couldn’t help herself.
The more her sister’s words echoed around her head, the more she doubted that Hugh had meant his final comment to her in the way she had imagined.
He’d always been so mindful of her reputation. Was it possible he had been so formal and dismissive because he didn’t want any of the earl’s men, let alone Freyja and Alasdair, to suspect how close they had become?
Ecne stiffened in her arms and gave an excited little yap and there, walking across the courtyard to the stables, was Hugh with the earl.
Her heart skittered in her chest, and she put Ecne on the floor and hastily pulled on her boots and found her shawl before she took her place by the window again.
She didn’t want to interrupt whatever Hugh and the earl were doing, but when she saw them return, she would hasten downstairs and pretend to accidentally cross Hugh’s path.
Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to request a few private moments with him?
And if he brushed her off again, at least she’d know the truth.
It seemed they were gone for an interminable length of time. Maybe they’d decided to go riding? But surely they’d need to cross the forecourt first, and leave through the gatehouse? She nibbled her lower lip and pressed her cheek against the glass, hoping for a better view of the stables.
Finally, she saw the earl striding back. But Hugh wasn’t with him, and panic churned through her. Where was he?
She hurried to the door, Ecne at her heels, and made her way downstairs.
The earl entered through the double doors and strode across the great hall and as soon as he was out of sight, she ran out of the manor.
It was most unseemly, but she didn’t care.
If Hugh was preparing to leave, she had only moments before he would ride out of her life forever.
Unheeding of the few servants who were around and gave her curious glances, she rushed to the stables and looked inside.
Deagh Fhortan was still there, and she spun about, to catch sight of Ecne trotting happily away from the manor, his tail wagging, to where Hugh had come to a halt, his gaze fixed on her.
There was no sign of the blood that had drenched him the last time she’d seen him.
A terrible vision that would haunt her for the rest of her life, even if it hadn’t been his blood.
But even worse than the blood had been the dead expression in his eyes, and it took more nerve than she’d anticipated to meet his gaze.
Relief flooded through her. Although weariness filled them, his eyes no longer sent chills skating through her, and their incomparable blue reminded her of the first time she had ever seen him as he’d strode across the forecourt of Sgur Castle.
“Lady Roisin.” He bowed his head, and her relief turned to alarm at how formal he was being. “How are ye?”
She took a few steps closer as Ecne pawed Hugh’s boot, and he crouched to give her wee lad a scratch behind his ears. Was she wrong? Or was Hugh still trying to protect her reputation behind a masquerade?
A furtive glance over her shoulder reassured her that they were alone, and so she took another step closer. He straightened, and although he didn’t move towards her, he gave a faint smile that turned her insides to warm honey.
“I’m perfectly fine,” she said. “Thanks to ye.”
An awkward silence fell, and she dropped her gaze to Ecne, who suffered from no such frustrating constraints, as he flopped on the ground, his muzzle resting on Hugh’s boot.
This was foolish. There was so much she wanted to say to Hugh, so much she dearly wished to hear him say to her. But she didn’t even know how to begin.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell ye the truth.” The words burst from him, and he exhaled a harsh sigh. “I know I can trust ye, Roisin and whatever happens, I want ye to know, although I must ask ye to never breathe a word of what I’m about to share with ye.”
“Ye have my word.” And because Hugh couldn’t move with Ecne using his foot as a pillow, she took yet another step nearer to him, until they were almost close enough to kiss.
“’Tis likely ye’ve already guessed,” he said in a voice so low she could scarcely hear him. “I was spying for the earl this past year, and that’s why no one knew where I was.”
She hadn’t guessed, and she tried not to look shocked by his revelation, since he clearly thought she should already have drawn that conclusion. But if she pretended, wasn’t she simply making things more complicated between them?
And so she shook her head. It felt better than pretending she had known something she hadn’t. “I had no idea,” she confessed. “Even at the end, when ye suddenly tossed his name at me.”
Although she had wondered what the earl meant, when he’d told her Hugh was always in his favor, the truth had never occurred to her.
“It’s the reason why I couldn’t send yer letter to Lady Isolde. I was using the earl’s network to communicate with him, and there are safeguards if anything’s intercepted. But I couldn’t send yer letter through his channels, and I couldn’t risk sending it by normal means.”
Ah, her letter. She had all but forgotten about it with everything that had happened since, and now it seemed such a small thing to have been so upset over.
“I understand, Hugh. Please don’t concern yerself with it for another moment.”
“But ye were right. I shouldn’t have let ye think I’d sent it. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now I misjudged ye. Ye’re not a fragile flower, Roisin, and maybe ye never were.”
Unaccountably touched by his insight of her character, she smiled. “Well, thank ye. I’m gratified ye think so.”
He released a ragged sigh and before she could think better of it, she reached out. He met her halfway and threaded his fingers through hers, a simple touch that warmed her to the core of her being.
“When I took ye to the camp, I thought I’d need to protect ye there at every moment. But ye forged yer own way with the women, and I cannot tell ye how deeply I admired that. I’m glad they left before the earl found them. But by God, I wish Symon had gone with them. He only stayed because of me.”
Sorrow twisted deep in her heart. “Ye cannot blame yerself for that, Hugh. It wasn’t yer fault. Symon was a good man, from the little I knew of him, and he made his own choices. If ye don’t accept that, it will drive ye mad.”
“When I was in Eire, ’twas only the thought of ye that kept me from going mad.” He sounded hoarse, and her heart squeezed at the pain in his voice. “But the longer I remained in that twilight existence, the less likely it became that I could ever offer ye the life ye deserved.”
“But ye’re not in that twilight existence anymore,” she whispered. “I never stopped hoping ye’d come back to Eigg, ye know. Even when ye disappeared, I couldn’t let the dreams of what might have been go completely.”
His fingers tightened around hers, and his intense gaze seared her soul. “I love ye, Roisin. I always have. But the way I felt about ye on Eigg is nothing to how I love ye now. Hell itself cannot be worse than the thought of a future without ye by my side.”
For so long she had dreamed of Hugh telling her how he loved her and how wonderful it would be. But now that he had, her daydreams turned to dust because even her fertile imagination had failed when compared to reality.
“Ye need not think of hell again.” Her voice was husky, and her heart was overflowing with the knowledge she and Hugh, despite everything, had always meant to be together. “For I will never leave ye, Hugh. How could I? I’ve loved ye since the day I met ye.”
“I never had much to my name, but I’ve more to offer ye now, as befits yer noble status. But I know how ye are tied to Eigg. Ye are the third sister, and ye cannot leave. But if ye’ll have me, I’ll be honored to remain by yer side in Sgur Castle, when the time comes for ye to fulfill yer destiny.”
Awe shivered through her. Neither William nor Alasdair had offered her sisters this choice.
But then, they both had grand estates in the Highlands, whereas Hugh was a second son, and Douglas would inherit Balfour Castle.
But it was still a noble gesture, to be willing to leave the heartland of his clan for her, for it was not as though Hugh were destitute.
He had connections and she knew that, along with her dowry, they could acquire a small stronghold of their own.
“My destiny,” she said softly, and he pressed his lips against her fingers in a gentle kiss, his gaze never leaving hers. “Hugh, my destiny lies with ye.”
“And I will never leave ye.” There was a fierce note in his voice that melted her heart. “Ye told me once yer Pict queen ancestor gave an edict that the daughters of Sgur cannot ever leave their isle. I’ll never ask ye to break the promise that yer foremothers have honored for nine hundred years.”
An ethereal rustle brushed through her senses, and she shivered as a thread of discordance hovered at the edges of her mind. She had known of the edict all her life but not for the first time she questioned its true meaning.
She gazed into Hugh’s eyes, and the words came as though she had always meant to share them with him. “The bloodline of the Isle must prevail beyond quietus.”
He cocked his head. “What?”
“That is the edict, Hugh. The Deep Knowing that has been passed down from mother to daughter from our Pict queen ancestor. We were taught that it means we can never leave our beloved isle, or the bloodline of the MacDonalds of Sgur will die. But that isn’t what it says, is it?”
“I know nothing of mystical prophecies, Roisin, but it seems yer ancient queen wanted yer bloodline to survive death. I don’t know how such a thing is possible whether ye stay on Eigg or leave.”
“I don’t know either.”
His smile was gentle, and he tenderly traced a finger along her face. “Does it matter?”
It shouldn’t matter, when Hugh had pledged to remain by her side wherever she chose to live, and yet the feeling that they had misunderstood the Deep Knowing would not abate. “Do ye remember when I told ye there had never been three daughters of Sgur in the same generation before?”
“I remember everything ye’ve said to me.”
She smiled at that, for how could she not?
But then she took a deep breath because what she had to say was of a serious nature.
“Well, it’s always haunted me. It was a warning that the true meaning of the Deep Knowing would soon reveal itself.
I’m not sure that it’s simply about my sisters and me, Hugh.
I just cannot shift the certainty that it means more than we have always believed. ”
“What are ye saying, mo ghràdh? That ye do not wish to live at Sgur Castle?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I believe I am not meant to.”
“Roisin, we shall live wherever ye wish. I can oversee my estates with the assistance of a good steward, so don’t let that concern ye.”
That caught her attention. “Has yer brother Douglas made ye custodian of Balfour Castle?”
He smiled and shook his head, almost in wonder.
“I forgot, ye do not know. And yet ye were willing to take me on, regardless. The earl has bequeathed me this manor for my services to Clan Campbell. But aye, in a sense I’m also custodian of Balfour, unless Douglas changes his mind and takes up his responsibilities. ”
She tore her besotted gaze from Hugh and glanced around. ’Twas a fine estate, indeed, and the manor itself was, she had to admit, in a far better state of repair than Sgur itself. “Are ye happy with it?”
He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m happy because it gives me something to offer ye. The real question is are ye happy with it, Roisin? Would it please ye to be the lady of this manor?”
She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Is that yer way of asking me to marry ye, Hugh?”
He groaned and pressed his forehead against hers. “I haven’t asked ye, have I?”
“Indeed, ye have not. It’s quite an oversight, I must confess.”
“I’ll make it up to ye, and no mistake.”
“And I will ensure ye do.”
His big body shook with silent laughter that ended with a soul-deep sigh.
“Lady Roisin of Sgur Castle, keeper of the mystical Deep Knowing from yer fierce Pict queen ancestor, I love ye more than life itself. Will ye honor me with yer hand and make me the luckiest man in Christendom by consenting to be my bride?”
Sometimes, on Eigg, especially after Freyja had wed Alasdair, she had imagined how it might be, should Hugh ever propose to her. His simple, heartfelt words surpassed anything her mind had conjured, and she tenderly cradled his beloved face.
There were so many things she wanted to say to him. And she had all the time in the world to say them. But for now, only one thing needed to be said. “I will.”