Chapter Thirty
The next morning, Malcolm and Gabe were waiting for her when she left her chamber.
“Are you ready for your ride today, mistress?” Gabe asked, barely restraining the excitement in his voice.
They thought of escorting her to the kirkyard, as had been her habit, after all that occurred yesterday? “I don’t think I can bear it,” she said, her voice sounding as tired as she felt. She hadn’t slept the night before as she considered what might come of her relationship with her husband.
She loved him. She knew it. And she thought she knew his feelings as well. But then he’d left her.
“Ach, but ye must,” Malcolm said. “That is, you should not want to miss the beautiful summer day.”
“Very well. We shall go for a ride.” She looked down at her brown work dress, not caring enough to go change into proper riding attire. Or rather appropriate for her.
In the bailey, she found her horse already waiting for her. It wasn’t until they were through the gate she felt the fine mist on her face and looked up to see it wasn’t a lovely summer day at all. The gray skies promised more than just the light sprinkling it offered now.
She wasn’t sure what her guards were up to, but she allowed them to guide her across the field toward the kirk.
When they stopped and dismounted, she remained seated.
She’d rather nudge Merlin into a full run away from this place that was filled with sorrow and pain.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do this today. ”
“You must see something. Please.”
Curiosity got the better of her, and she slid down from her tall horse and followed the two men toward the kirk. Either they were walking faster than usual or she was lagging, but they were waiting next to her son’s stone as she came closer.
Gabe pointed down, and she took a few more steps so she could see what he was showing her.
She gasped at the small stone nestled next to Geordie’s larger one. It had been blank. Waiting for Ronan to approve the name she’d picked for their child. A permanent reminder that he had not written back. All this time she’d thought he’d been too angry or disappointed in her to write back.
But that wasn’t the case. He hadn’t known. She knelt down at the marker and traced her fingers over the recently engraved letters.
Marcas James Innes Grant.
A small bundle of violets lay atop the grave. Brenna always brought heather, so she knew this had been placed there by Ronan.
“He did this,” she said, quietly, already knowing the answer. “He does care.”
“He does. We saw with our own eyes.”
“Why did he not show me?” Her earlier anger flared to life once more.
***
Ronan, Will, and Hugh hurried along to meet up with Shane. It would still take days to get to the MacKenzies’ castle where Ronan’s mother was hiding.
He wasn’t sure what to do when he met with her. She was the cause of so much heartache. She’d been the reason he’d not been able to trust a woman. After witnessing her deceit, Ronan expected all women to be out for their own gains.
But Brenna was different. She’d proved to be a faithful partner, even after the pain he’d caused.
And every step his horse took in the opposite direction, he felt he’d done the wrong thing to leave as he had.
That night as he settled onto his furs to sleep, he had so many more memories of her than he’d had in France.
He could easily remember her smile and the sound of her laughter.
Her quick wit, and eagerness to join with him in the most inconvenient of places.
Ronan slept restlessly. His usual dreams of the war had been bad enough, but now as he battled his demons, he was faced with Brenna’s tear-streaked face, holding their silent child. He woke up screaming.
“Christ Almighty,” Will said. “Ye said you made it out of the war, but I don’t think that’s true. I think it just follows you wherever you go.”
“You have the right of it, but I wasn’t troubled by the war this time. I’m thinking of Brenna and the babe. The pain…”
“Hugh said he told ye what happened,” Will said, looking at the man across the fire who could apparently sleep through anything. Even Ronan’s screaming and carrying on.
“Aye. I should have been there for her. I should have done so many things differently. So much time has been wasted.”
“Then perhaps you should not waste anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, this journey to the MacKenzies’ to stop your mother. Hugh and I and the two other guards can see to it. It seems you took advantage of the distraction to leave rather than face your wife.”
“I want to call you out for saying such a thing, but I can’t because I think it may be true.”
Will chuckled and looked up at the stars. “She deserves to be loved.”
“By a better man than me.”
“Mayhap you could be that better man.”
“Aye. I will do everything in my power to make sure she never has reason to be alone again.”
“Starting in the morning.”
Ronan laughed. “Aye. In the morning, I shall leave you to return home so I might tell my wife how much I love her so I might offer comfort as I should have years before and so I might beg her mercy for all the wrongs I’ve done to her.”
“And she will forgive ye. It’s not her nature to carry a grudge, even if she has the right to do so.”
“I am glad I have ye for that.”
In the silence of the night, he and Will talked about the things that haunted him.
They must have fallen asleep at some point because Ronan woke to see the other men still sleeping while their men were going about hunting to break their fast.
Ronan thought it might have been the first bit of sleep he’d had that hadn’t been filled with terrors from the war. Though he hadn’t slept peacefully. He still dreamed of Brenna and the babe.
He wished he hadn’t left her without speaking to her. It mirrored his actions from the past. He packed up his things quickly, for the first time feeling like he was doing the right thing going home to Brenna so he might make things right. However, that might come about.
He wouldn’t give up until she knew the truth—that he loved her.