Chapter Twenty-Three
Rob had spent the weeks after Lilidh’s departure picking up the pieces of his life and moving on. His respite from the reality he must face was over, as was any hope of ever correcting his past errors in judgement or behaviour.
Now that the elders supported him, Rob had had Symon released, but still watched.
Without a conflict or danger expected from the MacLeries, Rob had begun to discuss a formal treaty with the MacKenzies.
The large, powerful clan had much to offer their smaller one, he had told himself for the thousandth time.
It did not lessen the disloyalty he felt as he discussed the matter and planned to move forwards on it.
Because so much of his life had been tied to the
MacLeries, he still had to struggle to let go of the desire to be part of them. Not that he could. Not with what he had done to Lilidh again. So he lived this farce until one night when he finally came to his senses, but nearly lost his head.
Rob heard his name being whispered and roused from his sleep to it. Tyra knelt next to him in his bed with a long, dangerous blade at his throat.
‘I am tired of dealing with fools, Rob,’ she said. The dagger shook in her hand as she leaned in towards him. ‘You have interfered for the last time.’ He tried to sit up, but she pushed the lethal tip into the skin of his neck.
Looking at her now, he realised he was looking into the face of madness.
‘How have I interfered, Tyra? Tell me so we can come to some accommodation.’ That seemed to calm her agitation somewhat, so he continued. ‘What do you want me to do?’ He held up his hands and began to edge away from her.
‘You were supposed to die. You were supposed to die,’ she repeated, almost in a chant. ‘Why did you have to return at all? Why did you not die?’ Many things fell into place in that moment, including his failure to realise that Tyra was behind Symon’s strange actions.
‘Tyra,’ he said softly, glancing towards the door and hoping someone had seen her coming here. ‘Let me get dressed and we can figure this all out.’ Once he was out of the bed, he could take the dagger, but not now in this position. All it would take would be a slight press and he’d bleed to death.
‘Symon should be laird. I can control him,’ she said, nodding her head. ‘I did control him until you interfered.’
‘Why not call Symon and we can all speak about this matter?’ he offered. With her leaning over as she was, any sudden move on his part would send her in a downward motion—blade first.
‘I already summoned him. You will be dead when he gets here, but I’ll make certain he is blamed for it. Then both of you are out of my way.’
Holy Christ! Symon must have outlived his usefulness to her, too. He had to keep her talking until he could make a move.
‘What will you do then, Tyra? Surely you must have a plan?’ He tried to let his body relax next to her, hoping she would lean back away a bit.
‘With the new treaty signed and our alliance with the MacKenzies in place, I will marry Gavin as we have always planned.’
‘Marry Gavin?’ he asked. He knew Gavin and he knew that Gavin was betrothed to an heiress from Sutherland. They might already be married.
‘We have planned it for years. My father began talks with his father long ago. With your death, the betrothal you tried to arrange for us is gone and I am free to marry him.’
Rob saw a flicker of movement behind her and realised someone else was in the bedchamber with them. Deciding it was time, he glanced directly over her shoulder.
‘Symon,’ he said, without knowing who it was there. As he’d hoped, it distracted her enough that he could push and the person behind her could pull her before she could cut his throat.
It was Symon indeed and he pushed his sister to the floor and grabbed the dagger from her hands as she screamed. Then he turned the blade in his palm and aimed it once more at Rob.
Out of the girdle pan and into the flames below? he wondered.
Then Symon flipped the dagger and held it out to him, grip first. Rob got out of the bed and called for guards.
When he got back, Symon had pulled Tyra to her feet.
She’d quieted somewhat, but her whispered murmurings disturbed him.
Seeing Symon through new eyes, Rob realised he’d been misdirected to suspect him by his mad sister and her irrational plans.
‘Take her down to the storage room and keep her there until we figure this out,’ he said. ‘I will get one of the women to stay with her this night.’
‘I will stay with her, Rob,’ Symon said.
‘I think we need to talk, Symon.’ The guards arrived and escorted them both away.
* * *
With the crisis averted and the real villain exposed, it still took days and weeks to sort things out.
Only a thorough search of Tyra’s belongings, both those in plain sight and those they were able to find hidden away, revealed the extent of her dangerous delusions.
Rob was lucky that he and Lilidh had not been killed as she’d planned.
Listening to her nearly incoherent ramblings and rantings made it clear that his father and Aileen had been victims of her deranged violence. Her father might have been, as well.
Symon and he came to terms. Though a hotheaded pain in the arse, Rob was glad he had not been involved in Tyra’s plans after all.
The elders seemed pleased with that, as well, and he was welcomed to the council when he returned from taking Tyra to a cousin who was the abbess at a convent.
She would be confined there and not able to hurt anyone else.
And, after he exchanged some messages with Gavin MacKenzie, Rob felt certain that the man had played no part in this other than to have treated a young woman kindly.
Tyra’s twisted mind had ascribed all kinds of things to that kindness, even forging letters that turned Gavin into her co-conspirator, in her mind.
* * *
Two months after Lilidh left him, his life was back to what it had been before Symon brought her here and the clan was safe. Things had never looked more promising for the Clan Matheson. Or so empty for its laird.
Rob was standing on the battlements in front of the ruined tower when Dougal brought him the letter.
Jocelyn MacLerie had written him once more.
* * *
‘I am just tired, Mother,’ Lilidh explained. ‘I’m afraid I walked too much yesterday and my leg is suffering for it.’
Her mother grew suspicious, she knew, but Lilidh just could not speak to her about her condition yet. After she missed her courses once, she waited for their return. Now, she’d missed twice and, along with other signs and symptoms, she knew there was no mistake—she was pregnant.
And though she’d not confided in Ciara, she knew her cousin had guessed the truth, as well.
‘We will have visitors coming in a few days, Lilidh,’ her mother said. ‘The Murrays from Perth,’
she explained. James Murray’s wife, Elizabeth, was a MacLerie and had grown up as friends with Ciara and Lilidh. After their shocking elopement at the time of Ciara and Tavis’s marriage, Elizabeth and James visited several times a year.
‘It will be good to see Elizabeth,’ Lilidh admitted. ‘I was not here for her last visit.’
Her marriage to Iain had just taken place and she’d left for his lands before the Murrays arrived. Elizabeth could not travel sooner and missed her wedding because of the impending birth of their first child.
Jocelyn emptied the solar with a simple nod of her head and Lilidh found herself dreading the coming minutes. There was no way to avoid it, and, if she was being honest with herself, Lilidh would have admitted she needed her mother’s counsel.
‘So, do you plan to tell Rob you carry his child or not?’ her mother asked.
‘Do I?’
‘Well, the lovely green shade of your skin in the morning nearly matches your eyes and you have been seeking your rest every day after the noon meal.’ Her mother’s eyes narrowed then and Lilidh prepared for the worst. ‘And your monthly courses have gone missing since your return here. Since you mentioned in your letter that you carried no heir for Iain, that means...’ Her mother didn’t finish the rest—there was no need.
‘No, I do not,’ she finally said in reply to the first question.
‘It is his child, Lilidh. He should know.’ Her mother came over to her and knelt down before her. ‘What will you do?’
‘I do not know,’ she whispered. ‘Father will be furious.’ Her biggest fear.
‘You could go to stay with Elizabeth until the bairn is born.’ Lilidh met her mother’s eyes. And return after the birth...alone was the unspoken part.
‘One choice, yes,’ she said.
‘We could arrange a marriage,’ her mother offered another. ‘Many families clamour to align themselves with the MacLeries.’
And would not look too closely at her condition coming to the marriage, also unspoken.
‘Another choice.’
‘If you are certain there is nothing between you and Rob?’ Her mother was relentless when she wanted to know something.
Lilidh pushed out of her chair and walked to the window that overlooked the yard. Watching those who lived in Lairig Dubh go about their day, she shrugged, finally letting the anger she’d felt escape.
‘Why would I want him, Mother?’ She clenched her hands into fists as it spilled out. ‘He humiliated me, not once, but twice, before my family and his. I know he did not plan my kidnapping and he made no promises about a life together, but he did not hesitate to accept my—’
‘Love?’ her mother offered.
‘Favours. Advice. Help,’ she finished instead. ‘He swore that he’d been young and stupid the first time. He said it was not about my...scars. And then he did it again.’ The tears overflowed her eyes and trickled down her face. She brushed them away before looking at her mother. ‘He did it again.’
‘That is more than you’ve said about him since you returned with us.’
‘It hurts, Mother. It hurts.’ Her mother opened her arms and wrapped Lilidh in a hug.
‘Of course it does. Loving someone is not easy.’