Chapter 32
Thane required a purpose. He currently had none, and the resulting feelings of being extraneous, useless, and lost were more than he could bear.
He wandered the city, walking up and down streets until he wore holes in his boots.
He’d climbed to the top of Arthur’s Seat multiple times, out of a misguided hope that by seeing the city laid out below him, he’d somehow find a pattern he’d missed before.
But each time, his gaze kept returning to the spot far below where he knew Cat’s home to be.
Naturally, he couldn’t actually see the house, let alone the damage from the smoke that left ugly streaks of charcoal across the cream-colored stone.
Despite the fire, the house remained habitable.
He’d half hoped that wouldn’t be true—then he could have offered to let both women stay with him, by way of apology for nearly letting two killers take Cat’s life.
But Cat didn’t need his hospitality. She didn’t need his protection. And she didn’t want anything else from him, not after learning he was responsible for what happened to Brodie.
So apart from his solitary excursions around the city, he remained in his rooms, useless and restless.
Five days after the fire, Struan found him. The big man walked into Thane’s sitting room, looked around at the empty glasses of whisky, and said, “Have you even eaten a meal these past few days?”
“Probably.”
Struan snorted. “I’d offer to drag you down to the nearest pub, but as it happens I don’t care to dine out much myself anymore.” He revealed a package that he’d brought in, which contained freshly baked bread, two meat pies, and a few wedges of cheese. Thane was suddenly famished.
Over the meal, Struan told him that the other men visited Cat and she appeared to be perfectly healthy, if still rather subdued.
Thane wanted to ask if she asked after him, but he was too much of a coward to do so.
“Everything seems to be resolved,” his friend concluded after sharing that Mrs Fairchild, the only surviving accomplice, was expected to spend the rest of her days in either a prison or an asylum…which were much of a muchness in any case.
“Aye,” Thane responded. “Damsel saved, evildoers captured, all that sort of thing.”
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
“Of course I’m happy about it. I mean, that’s what the whole point of this was, yes? Protecting Brodie’s sister.”
“Catriona Ross,” said Struan.
“Yes. He hasn’t got another sister hidden away, has he?” Thane was feeling decidedly testy this morning.
“I just thought you might want to use her name, as if she were a full person and not merely half of her brother.” Struan’s voice was low and even, but the censure was clear. And Thane knew he was being an ass.
“Look, I know she’s her own woman. Christ, she never lets anyone forget it. I only meant that our job is done. She’s safe now, and has no more need of us.”
“She never had need of me,” Struan pointed out. “Nor for most of us. You, however, are a slightly different matter.”
“She’s made it quite clear that I am neither needed nor wanted. And to be honest, she’s correct.”
“You made a mistake.”
Thane gave an ugly laugh. “Aye, I never should’ve gone near her.”
“No, I mean during the war. It was a mistake, Thane. You made an error in judgment when you allowed Brodie to take the assignment, but it was an understandable error. Brodie did have a qualification you didn’t.
And Brodie did ask for it. You didn’t foist it on him.
You didn’t skip out on it to avoid the risk.
It wasn’t even supposed to be a high-risk assignment.
You couldn’t have known what would happen. ”
“But it did happen…Brodie’s death. And then I said nothing.”
“What good would saying anything have done at that point? Wouldn’t have brought him back. Wouldn’t have changed the war.”
“I should have told you and the others, at least.”
“We’ve all got memories we don’t want to share,” Struan said. “And we’ve all done things we’re not proud of. War isn’t polite or fair or kind. But those who survive it do get another chance to live. So you’d better bloody take yours. If you mope around here any longer, I’ll fight you myself.”
“Please don’t.” Struan was not the sort of man anyone wanted to fight one-to-one.
“Then are you going to explain yourself to the lass, or not?”
“If I go to her, will you promise not to crush me?”
“I’ll think about it,” Struan grunted. “But in any case, I’m leaving the city soon. Though I won’t go before I hear that you’ve at least tried to speak with her.”
“I’m surprised you stayed this long.”
“Matter of business. There’s a debt that needs paying.” Struan did not look happy about it.
“You’ve a debt to pay?” Thane asked in surprise. He always thought Struan to be very comfortably off, and he certainly didn’t spend money frivolously—or at all.
“No. This debt is owed to me. And it’s past due. The war kept me busy, but it’s time to attend to all the loose ends in my life.”
“Oh, so you can retreat to your home in the Highlands and live like a hermit forever.”
“That’s the plan.” Struan didn’t appear to be open to discussing it, and Thane knew by now that it was wise to pick his battles.