Chapter Eight
Brenna glanced up at the high table to see Ronan glaring in her direction. At his displeasure, she worried about the men who’d graciously sat with her.
“Ye should not have come to sit with me. Your loyalty should be with your laird.”
“My duty is to protect ye,” Malcolm said. “I gave the late laird my word and plan to honor it.”
“Aye. As did I,” Gabe added.
“And you don’t know how much I appreciate that. But Will and Hugh made no such promise, and neither did the rest of the men. You should have stayed with Ronan.”
“Even if he is talking nonsense and listening to that rat?” Hugh said. “I’d rather eat with the pigs. They don’t smell as bad as that rotter.”
“Aye. I don’t know why we don’t all march over there and toss the man out again. Ronan wouldn’t be able to stop us,” Ephraim, one of the older men, said, getting a few ayes with his plan to rebel against their leader.
She needed to stop this before it went too far.
“Please, wait. We must be cautious. I don’t know what Ewan plans.
He will show his scales soon enough. Until he does, I would feel better knowing you were close enough to protect Ronan.
We all know Ewan was willing to kill me to become laird of the Grants, and at the moment, Ronan is what stands in his way.
I can’t help but feel Ronan is in danger. ”
Will shook his head. “Nay. The two of them are like brothers. Ewan may be a snake with ye, but I don’t think he has the strength to do ill to his blood.”
“And if you’re wrong?” Brenna asked. “We’d all pay for such a mistake. Ronan, worst of all. I don’t wish to see him harmed.” Despite her anger with the man, she couldn’t let the clan fall to Ewan.
“Even after he disrespected you in front of the clan?” Malcolm retorted on her behalf.
She wouldn’t lie. That had stung a great deal. But she didn’t expect better from the likes of Ronan Grant. She’d been a foolish girl when he’d left, with dreams of earning his affection. Those dreams faded into the mist the next morning when he’d left her without so much as a word.
The years had fed the fire of her anger until she feared she might catch flame in his presence. It had taken all her strength to remain calm when he’d called her out in front of everyone.
“Surely, you can agree that disrespecting one’s wife isn’t a crime punishable by death. Please, I ask ye to watch over the laird. Hold your tongue against Ewan for now. Ronan will see the truth soon enough.”
At least, she hoped he would. She knew only how easily Ewan twisted the truth until it favored him, leaving her with no defense.
“I’ll not lie for him,” Hugh said stubbornly, with Will and the other men nodding.
“Nay. I’m not asking you to lie. I’m asking you to wait to tell Ronan the truth about his uncle until he is ready to hear it.” She reached across the table and placed her hand over Hugh’s. “I told him the truth today, and it only proved Ewan correct.”
“Because he twists the truth.”
“And Ronan is no fool. He will untwist things soon enough. Until then, I want you to stay close to the laird and offer protection until you are asked to provide counsel.”
“I’m not sure how smart Ronan is,” Gabe said. The truth was both Gabe and Malcolm were young and would not have known Ronan. It wouldn’t be easy to persuade them until Ronan gave them a reason to earn their respect. As to her husband’s intelligence, she couldn’t be certain herself.
“Don’t worry about me. His words don’t matter.
” Brenna no longer cared what Ronan thought of her.
He’d forfeited the right to her consideration five years ago and had done nothing to earn it back.
She thought things might have been different when he returned but seeing him in the bailey today only solidified her anger toward him for what he’d done when he’d left her without a word.
Still, her anger wasn’t enough to let Ewan win.
“The hell it doesn’t matter,” Will said. “You’re planning to sit there and not tell Ronan the truth while Ewan fills his head with more bitter stories? We’ll stand by you, my lady. Ephraim is right. Ronan will have to listen to all of us.”
She shook her head. “Not today. Be patient.” The last words were more for herself than William.
She might be thrown out of the castle if she confronted her husband right then.
She almost wanted to leave on her own, but that would leave Ronan with Ewan, and she wasn’t quite sure if that was safe.
So far, Ewan had only made threats against her.
But was he dangerous to Ronan, as well? She needed to stay close enough to keep an eye on him, which meant not getting banished.
“As Hugh said, I’ll not hide the truth to cover for that wee snake,” Will huffed.
Brenna shook her head. “No. We will not lie. If Ronan asks us a question, we will answer truthfully. But we will remain silent for now until Ronan is in a place to hear us.”
“We should have hanged Ewan when we had the chance,” Gabe muttered.
Brenna couldn’t argue. She regretted her decision to delay justice even though she felt she’d done the right thing.
“It’s too late for that now. We’ll have to wait him out.”
“Aye,” Will said in his commanding voice.
“You’re the level-headed lass the old laird saw ye to be.
We shall watch over Ronan as you have requested.
” The other men followed along with their war chief and nodded in agreement, some even holding a fist over their hearts, pledging their oath on the matter.
She relaxed, knowing her husband would be protected. Ronan might not be the leader she’d hoped for, but he was all that stood between them and Ewan running the clan.
“For as quickly as Ewan is tossing back that ale, he’ll not be a problem tonight,” Gabe noted.
Brenna looked up at the table where Ewan was guzzling down the ale as soon as his tankard was filled. He noticed her and offered a slimy smile and a wink. “The man is even more dangerous when he’s in his cups. It is, after all, why Ronan was forced to marry me.”
She’d asked the laird about the conversation she’d overheard before their wedding. Ewan had run into one of her clansmen at a tavern and lost all his coin in a game. When he was tossed into the street, having lost everything, including his boots, he attacked the unsuspecting Innes.
Geordie said Ewan had told them a different tale then, but he’d sought out the truth, getting the facts from witnesses at the tavern.
It could have been seen as an act of war between the clans, being the laird’s brother had murdered one of her father’s warriors.
But the marriage created the necessary alignment to keep the peace when the truth was discovered.
Brenna could only be grateful she was married to Ronan instead of the vile man who’d done the crime.
Her life had not been easy after Ronan left, but at least she’d not been Ewan’s wife.
The reason they’d wed was no longer critical.
They were married; somehow, she’d need to work out her anger with her husband.
“Did you notice his limp?” As much as she wanted not to care, she did.
“Aye.” Malcolm nodded. “I take it that is a new injury?”
“Will, can ye check on him and make sure he doesn’t have a fever? And if he’s in pain, have Moira bring him a draught.”
“The man is fine.” Hugh grimaced. “He deserves a bit of pain for treating you like he did. I might kick him in his other leg.”
Hugh earned an “aye” from the other men.
“I thank ye for your loyalty, but I am no longer acting laird of the clan. It would be best if you protected Ronan. Starting now.”
Begrudgingly, Will and Hugh stood and returned to the high table to speak to the laird.
“Are you sure you’re well, my lady?” Malcolm asked.
She didn’t know how to answer his question. Her heart was raw and hurting from today as well as the old wounds had been pulled open.
“We will have to wait and see.” She had put her blood, sweat, and tears into this clan and earned a place of respect here after years of being the jester of her own family. She would not allow Ronan to take what she’d built.
***
The feast continued into the evening, and after the meal was cleared away, Ronan saw his wife directing people as the proper mistress of the keep. A lute player came in and began the night’s entertainment.
He watched Brenna to see if she paid attention to any of the warriors, but other than the two that hovered close, looking serious and deadly, she stood alone.
One by one, the people in the hall began to leave—first, the families with little ones who had fallen asleep, then the men who would be called to drills early in the morning.
Brenna kissed the bairns’ heads and accepted her thanks as a gracious hostess would. If not for the things Ewan had said about her, he wouldn’t know she was anything but the efficient lady of the castle. And if she was so horrid, why did his people seek her out to thank her and wish her well?
He thought of his mother and how she stayed clear of the kitchens and anything resembling work.
While the MacPherson laird waited on Deirdre’s every word, the rest of the clan had not been as enamored of their mistress.
From spending five years in battle, Ronan knew well enough the difference between a person who earned respect and those who grasped hold of their power with fear.
These people—his people—respected Lady Brenna.
He needed to find out more, though it wouldn’t be from his uncle, who was hunched over the table, sleeping in a puddle of drool.
When she left to go toward the kitchens, he followed at a distance. Of course, her two pups followed as well. Ronan had watched them for any indication they lusted over his wife, but while they gazed upon her with affection, it was that of friendship and loyalty.
Leaning against the wall outside the kitchen, Ronan silently cursed his leg. He’d used it too hard today, and now it trembled, threatening to give out. He wouldn’t be able to stand there long.