Chapter Thirty-One
With Ronan away, Brenna was in charge of the clan once more. It meant she couldn’t sneak away that morning as she usually did to hunt and ride. Instead, she was pulled away to deal with a squabble between two older men who should have known better.
Her patience was in short supply when the guard on the gate called out, “Rider!”
Brenna’s heart gave a kick at the announcement. Had Ronan returned so soon? And if so, how would she address him? “What flag do they fly?”
The guard shook his head. “No flag, my lady. It looks to be a lone woman.”
“Let her in,” Brenna said, keeping her disappointment reined in. The fact that she was disappointed spoke of how much she had wished it was Ronan.
Brenna awaited the lone rider, curious to who it could be.
Hannah would never set a horse, let alone ride any long distance without a proper carriage.
When the woman entered, Brenna was momentarily baffled, for she recognized the woman, though they’d never met.
It was amazing Brenna had made the connection at all given how different Ronan’s mother looked now compared to the painting hanging in the solar.
Deirdre was pale and ragged looking. Her perfectly coifed gold hair from the painting hung in lank clumps down her back.
At Brenna’s nod, Malcolm left her side to go assist the woman down from her horse before she fell.
But instead of standing, the woman crumbled.
Gabe hurried to assist Malcolm in gathering the woman up.
As Brenna stepped forward to offer a greeting, she noticed the dark cloak the woman wore was shiny with moisture at the shoulder. She pulled the garment away to see the vast amount of blood.
“Hurry, bring her inside and fetch Moira straight away.” Brenna gave her orders, which her men followed without question.
“Who are you?” the woman asked.
Brenna realized that while she recognized the woman, Deirdre wouldn’t know her. “I am Lady Grant. You may call me Brenna.”
“You are married to Ronan?”
“Aye.”
“Then it seems you may call me Mother.”
Brenna should have known Ronan wouldn’t have informed his mother of his marriage.
Not five years ago when they’d first been wed, and not more recently, either, it seemed.
What Brenna didn’t know was if it was because Ronan didn’t want to share the information that he was married or because he hadn’t spoken to his mother in all that time.
From what Ronan had said about Deirdre, Brenna thought it could be the latter. Malcolm had told her Ronan rode for the MacKenzies to find his mother. But if she was here, where was Ronan?
Deciding there’d be plenty of time later for questions so long as the woman survived the day, she set to care for the woman’s injuries first.
“If it’s all the same, I shall call ye Deirdre for now. Please lie back so I can see to your wound.”
Deirdre looked like she might object but instead did as Brenna ordered.
“Do not give me a dram that will put me out. I prefer to be awake.”
“Very well.” Brenna doubted she would wish to be awake when the wound was stitched or sealed, but that was an argument for later. First, Brenna had to examine the wound to determine the care needed.
Moira entered through the far door, and as she came closer, she sniffed.
“I was called to come help you heal someone, but ye must know I don’t tend to serpents or the devil.”
“Hello, Moira. I thought I’d looked on you my last. I’m sorry to say I was wrong about that.” Deirdre’s words were said through a tightly clamped jaw as she panted in clear pain, but still she held a certain level of authority and dignity.
Brenna might have been impressed if she hadn’t already been annoyed by the posturing. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the women.
“Perhaps we could put aside our pettiness until after the woman has stopped bleeding all over my hall like a stuck boar.”
Deirdre seemed to take offense to being likened to a pig, but she kept her mouth shut and offered only a tight nod.
“What kind of wound is it?” Moira asked while still keeping her distance.
“I believe it was a dagger?” Brenna guessed and looked at Deirdre for confirmation.
“Aye. A dagger. I was…attacked while trying to escape the MacKenzie laird. He’d captured me and meant to force me into a marriage. I barely escaped my fate.”
“It sounds as if it was the MacKenzie laird who escaped being shackled to a witch like you,” Moira muttered loud enough to be heard by everyone.
Brenna gasped in surprise. She’d never heard Moira speak so. But then Ronan hadn’t spared flowery words for his mother, either.
Deirdre reminded Brenna much of Hannah and, as such, Brenna was reluctant to believe the woman except for the fact she’d taken a dagger to the shoulder. And only after she’d inspected the wound and saw for a fact it was from a dagger.
Who stabbed her, or for what reason, was yet to be determined.
They worked on the woman for over an hour. Moira was happy to tend to the stitching after she learned Deirdre didn’t wish to be knocked out with a dram.
Brenna watched briefly to ensure the woman wasn’t making it intentionally more painful. She felt Deirdre’s gaze on her and did her best not to cringe under the woman’s thorough inspection.
“What is it?” Brenna asked when the woman continued to stare at her.
“I would have expected Ronan would have had his pick of any laird’s daughter in the Highlands. I expected he would have chosen someone more…” She let the sentence hang there as if Brenna couldn’t understand her meaning. Then she cursed Moira to the devil for a particular sharp needle poke.
Brenna silently thanked Moira for taking up for her even if it wasn’t the kindly thing to do.
“If ye must know, Ronan didn’t choose me. Geordie did. An alliance was needed because Ewan had accidently killed one of my clansmen.” Though for years now she’d wondered if it had been an accident at all. Ewan was more than capable of cold-blooded murder.
“That makes a good deal more sen— Christ, Moira! I don’t need a stitch down to my liver, and don’t think I don’t know ye did that on purpose, you spiteful shrew.”
Moira chuckled and winked at Brenna.
“Lady Brenna is a better wife than Ronan deserves, I can tell you that.”
“I’m sure that isn’t so,” Brenna said in Ronan’s defense.
Deirdre chuckled, the sound coming off sinister.
“Ah, lass, you’ve gone and fell in love with him, haven’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”
Brenna shifted under the woman’s scrutiny and didn’t attempt to lie, though she didn’t confirm Deirdre’s accusation, either.
“You lose all your power when you fall in love, lass. The moment they know you won’t leave them is the moment they realize they can do whatever they want and you’ll stand for it.”
Brenna couldn’t argue. So far, Ronan had done what he wanted and she was still there at the keep, waiting and hoping for his return.
She’d felt most powerful after loving Ronan with all her heart.
So perhaps the woman was wrong, and true power was only found when one gave themselves up to another person, trusting that it was safe to do so without question.
Suddenly, she felt it again as she considered her situation.
Ronan had left but made it clear to Malcolm to tell her why and where he’d gone.
And that he would return soon. They may have serious and painful things to discuss when he returned, but she knew he would return, and they would face it together, because he cared for her.
She laughed at the joy in knowing her place as his wife was secure even when things were strained between them. Surely, there was nothing so powerful as that knowledge. Deirdre was staring at her as if she thought Brenna daft. Perhaps she was, but Brenna simply smiled at the woman.
“I do love Ronan, but there is nothing so powerful as that.”
Moira winked at her, and when Deirdre opened her mouth to no doubt say something scathing, Moira set the needle again, and Deirdre shouted another curse.
Despite Deirdre’s desire to stay awake, she quickly succumbed to the pain and lapsed into unconsciousness for the duration of the stitching. Brenna thought it was probably for the best.
“What do you intend to do with her now?” Moira asked when they were washing up from the procedure.
“Ronan went to the MacKenzies’ to intercept her. If he hasn’t seen her, it wouldn’t do to let her leave,” Brenna reasoned. “But I can’t very well throw her in the dungeon.”
“Why not?” Moira asked as if the idea was not to be cast away too quickly.
But Brenna wouldn’t treat her mother as a common criminal even if it was deserved, for the same reason she hadn’t had Ewan hanged. It was for Ronan to decide their fate.
She had Deirdre moved to the tower’s top floor and put two men on the door. And there she would stay until her husband returned. Brenna only hoped she wouldn’t live to regret this as she had with hanging Ewan.
By the next morning, their visitor was voicing her displeasure at being held prisoner in what she described as unfit quarters. There’d been nothing close to resembling a thank-you for Brenna’s efforts.
“I will have a horrid scar from that woman’s wretched stitch work. I’ve seen fisherman’s nets sewed with more skill than hers.”
“We were most intent on keep ye alive,” Brenna pointed out, but the woman continued to argue until finally Brenna left the room with no intention of returning.
In the kitchen, she had Jane assign a maid to take Deirdre’s meals to her room.
“I’ll send Lizzy up. She is being punished for leaving her work to her sister last week,” Jane said. “That will teach her.”
“Do you not have a maid guilty of a much more serious crime?” Brenna asked, thinking poor Lizzy wasn’t being served a just punishment.
By the evening meal, Brenna had thought to assist the maid so not to have Lizzy bear the full brunt of Deirdre’s unpleasantness, but the maid did not come to the kitchens. They found Lizzy’s sister, who said she hadn’t seen her since before the nooning.
“I’ll tan the girl’s backside for abandoning her duties,” Jane threatened. “In the meantime, I’ll go with you to deal with that she-devil in the tower.”
“I thank ye, Jane. I wish I could say I would see to it myself, but I don’t think I can face the woman alone. She’s quite vicious.”
Jane laughed as they made their way down the corridor to Deirdre’s chamber. They were still a few rooms away when they heard the yelling from inside.
“It makes you want to turn and run the other way, does it not?” Brenna asked, making Jane chuckle once more.
Auld Ephraim and Young Adam were on duty, and both looked like they’d rather be anywhere else at the moment.
“At least our guest is feeling better, aye?” Brenna said to the men.
“Ach, aye, mistress. Such a goin’ on from a lady.” Auld Ephraim shook his head in disgust.
They couldn’t make out what she yelled from inside, but Brenna was certain she’d made out a curse or two.
“I guess we best get it over with,” Brenna said, giving Adam a nod to open the door for her and Jane.
Brenna braced herself for Deirdre’s displeasure but instead was greeted with a hoarse, “Thank God, you’ve finally come.”
But when Brenna studied the woman who’d spoken, she found it wasn’t her mother by marriage, but Lizzy. The lass was wearing not but a shift and had a large lump on her forehead.
“The witch knocked me out and stole my clothing.”
“You’ve been locked in here since the noon meal?” Brenna asked but knew it was what clearly happened. Ephraim and Adam came in looking at Lizzy in surprise.
“But ye left with the tray earlier,” Ephraim said. “I was sure it was ye.”
The man was near as big as a horse, but his sight wasn’t the best in recent years. Wearing Lizzy’s cap and dress, the man would have been fooled by Deirdre. Which meant Deirdre had escaped hours ago and could be anywhere by now.
“Get every available man to search for the laird’s mother.”
Having her wound tended, she was likely miles from the castle. Brenna hurried back toward the steps and slipped into Ronan’s study where the clan’s funds were kept. The lock on the cabinet where the strongboxes were kept was broken and twisted free.
She backed out of the room and went to the smaller chamber she’d first shared with Ronan and threw open the lid of the trunk at the foot of the bed. Breathing a sigh of relief, she took in the bags of money, right where she’d left them after moving them the night before.
Deirdre might have gotten away, but Brenna made sure the woman wouldn’t count the Grant coffers in with the rest of her booty.