Chapter Ten #3
The people in the hall seemed to stare at Ronan, waiting for him to do something.
But he felt the same paralyzing fear on the battlefield after making the wrong choice.
He didn’t know what to do. Every option seemed wrong.
Ronan’s words stuck in his throat along with the lump of anxiety he couldn’t swallow down as Brenna dug about in the pouch tied at her waist.
She held out a few coins. “This is payment enough for the loaf, is it not?” she asked.
“It is, Lady Grant, but—”
“Then our business is done. You may go.”
The baker looked up at Ronan briefly before dipping his head to Brenna and retreating. She was handling things; he could only be grateful for her decisiveness and compassion.
“Erek?” Brenna called, and a tall man came closer.
“Aye, my lady?”
“It has been three years since your wee angel was taken from you and Mary.”
“Yes, and I know what you are thinking, but I beg ye—”
“No other child will fill the hole in your hearts she left. But this child needs a home and people who can take care of him and raise him to be an honorable man. I ask you only to take him for the night so that I might find another arrangement.”
“Aye, my lady. For the night only.”
She nodded, and even in Ronan’s state, he could tell, as his wife did, that this Erek would not turn the boy out.
“She has made a mockery of ye, nephew,” Ewan said.
“Why? Because she found a way to solve the issue without bloodshed? Isn’t that what a leader should do? Spare his people any pain when possible?”
“A leader provides justice.”
“And what justice is there for a child who did nothing to deserve such a fate as being orphaned? His options are to turn to crime rather than starve to death. What of that justice, uncle?”
Ewan laughed with a sneer. “I would not have thought war could weaken a man, but I was wrong.”
He shoved back his chair before standing and heading for the door.
The war had weakened Ronan. Some days, he wasn’t sure his leg would be strong enough to support him. But it wasn’t just the physical that had been damaged. His mind and heart had also been broken. Yes, Ronan had been weakened a great deal by the war.
Ronan watched Brenna as she ordered the other women in the hall to serve the noon meal.
She then went to the other men waiting to have their issues heard and saw them nod before dispersing.
She was putting them off to another day.
While he was thankful for the reprieve, it was not her place to do such things.
He was the laird. As useless as he seemed, he needed to ensure she knew she was not in control. Had the MacPherson laird taken a firmer stance with Ronan’s mother, perhaps she wouldn’t have had so much power over the laird.
He stepped up as she was speaking encouraging things to a worried Erek.
“It is a good thing you are doing,” Ronan added. “I appreciate you and your wife taking in the boy.”
“Of course, my laird.” Erek nodded to them before leaving them alone for Ronan to deal with his wife.
Brenna was beyond angry with the man she’d married years ago.
She tried to remember when she’d thought him kind but failed to recall why, for this man was as much a monster as his uncle if he’d thought to cut off a boy’s hand for trying to feed himself.
“I wish to end this marriage and return home,” she said as anger forced words through her lips she’d not yet considered.
He blinked and then narrowed his eyes on her. “It is far too late for such a thing, not that I’d allow it anyway.”
“I care not for what you allow and don’t. You are no one I want to share a name with, let alone a bed.”
“If you would let me explain, you might change—”
“My opinion of you was solidified the morning I woke up alone and remained utterly alone all this time. And seeing you agree to allow a small child to be punished so fiercely.”
“I did not agree.”
“You didn’t not agree, either.” She pressed her lips together as she ran the words back to see if they made any sense and found they were good enough for Ronan Grant. She couldn’t remember being so angry and disappointed with another person all her life.
Even Ewan, the monster he might be, had never disappointed her so thoroughly. For expecting him to be ruthless was just that…expected. At the same time, she’d hoped for more from Ronan. She’d seen glimpses of what she’d thought might be goodness. But now…
“I was considering the dungeon,” he said almost proudly, as if this were to sway her opinion of him.
“The dungeon? You wished to throw a child in a damp cell with hardened criminals?”
“Well, yes, I tossed that aside for the same reason. But I was never, not for a second, considering lashes or…” He swallowed before gesturing at nothing. “The other thing.”
He couldn’t speak of it. She stared at him as he struggled.
“The…” He pointed to his hand and shivered.
“I would never. He was only hungry. A child left alone. I saw many like him in France. What would any of us do in the same situation but steal to fill our bellies? Even the baker would become desperate and do whatever was necessary to feed himself. It is instinct. And I would even say a plump man would not take long to be pushed to the brink of human nature.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. She’d been wrong. He hadn’t been silent because he approved; he’d been trying to find his way. And she’d…and then… Oh.
“It pains me to know you think so very little of me that I would go along with such a thing,” he snapped, and she felt maybe she even deserved his displeasure this time.
“I don’t know you, but I can see now that you are not without honor. I should not have stepped in. I should have allowed you to sort it out yourself.”
“In truth, I’m grateful you stepped in. While I never would have allowed the boy to be harmed, I’d not yet figured out a way to solve the problem.”
“I’m sure you would have if I’d given you time to do so. I am sometimes…” Words of her childhood flitted around in her mind. She’d been rash, impatient, unladylike, stubborn. Any number of words would suit, but she never considered the one he offered.
“Brave.”
She started and looked him in the eye. If he was toying with her, she was not above ending their marriage.
How many times had she considered it in those darkest of times?
Why had she stayed? The auld laird had asked her to stay, but if she were truthful with herself, she knew Geordie was not why she’d remained at Strathspey. Or remained Ronan’s wife.
“Brave?” she whispered, wondering how he might think such a thing of a person who had wanted to run away more times than she could count.
“You walked into the hall a fierce lioness ready to battle for anyone who might plan to hurt him as if he was your child.”
Her breath caught as her chest blazed with painful burning. Her eyes stung, and her throat threatened to close. She took a step back.
“He is not mine,” she rasped and backed away to return to the kitchens.
Brenna stayed hidden away, working with the women during the nooning, but her maid had helped her change in time for the late meal.
She wasn’t sure where she would be sitting.
Would Ronan send her away from the high table again?
Should she even try to sit with him? After her outburst, he may now be considering putting her in the dungeon.
But he’d called her brave, and whether it was courage or obstinance that had her put one foot in front of the other as she went to the hall, she did not know.
She supposed it was his right as laird to invite anyone he chose to dine with him, but she wouldn’t recoil from rejection.
Instead, she held her head high and entered the hall where she was pleasantly greeted by the families she called her own.
Sparing a glance at the high table, she found her husband getting to his feet and holding out the chair that was hers. Ewan was nowhere to be seen.
This allowed her to speak to her husband without Ewan’s glares and lies.
She held his gaze as she walked toward the dais.
It wouldn’t do to shy away from his direct inspection.
She had nothing to hide. At the table, she offered a curtsey and nodded before sitting.
Jane had said Ronan only needed to know Brenna as the rest of the clan knew her, and he would see the truth.
This was her chance.