Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“When she heard Sinclair had tracked ye down tae the priory and was on his way there, Elaina threatened tae ride there hersel’ tae fetch ye,” Duncan told Catriona, between bites of bread thickly smeared with butter.
Catriona smiled fondly as she spread honey on some oatcakes. “That sounds just like the Elaina I remember. Och, I’ve missed her so much.”
Duncan continued with a comical mixture of plaintiveness and pride.
“She’s still just as headstrong. Ach, when I left tae come here, it took every argument I could think of tae convince her tae stay behind.
” He glanced at the great doors of the hall and added, “Even now, I’m half expectin’ those doors tae fly open and her tae come stridin’ in. ”
Catriona snorted at the picture he painted. “Aye, I can easily believe her quite capable of it.”
Her laughter drew a look from Malcolm, seated across from her, and they exchanged a quick glance before looking away.
Few minutes later, Kenneth and Sorcha came to join them. Malcolm stood up and introduced Kenneth to Duncan.
“Laird Grant,” Kenneth greeted Duncan warmly. “It is nice tae meet again.”
Duncan rose courteously to clasp forearms with him. “Laird Forbes. A pleasure tae see ye too,” he said, then greeted Sorcha with a gallant bow.
“’Tis a shame Sorcha and I are plannin’ tae leave on the morrow,” Kenneth said. “I’d like the chance tae have a good talk with ye sometime.”
“Likewise, man. Let’s arrange it before ye leave here,” Duncan replied, looking genuinely pleased. Catriona guessed both men were thinking of the benefits of a future alliance between Grant and Forbes.
Kenneth pulled out Sorcha’s chair so she could sit down while he and Duncan continued talking.
She greeted her new friend gladly, but she could not help noticing how still Malcolm had become whilst listening to the men talk, as though he were watching or waiting for something.
The tension in his posture was unmistakable, and she guess the reason for it.
Her big, brave, battle-hardened warrior was afraid, and her heart ached suddenly with tenderness for him. She desperately wanted to lean across the table and press his hand and kiss him and tell him everything would be all right, that Duncan would bless the marriage gladly.
She was certain of it.
But she knew Malcolm too well now. Until he heard the blessing from Duncan himself, he would continue carrying the burden of self-imposed guilt alone.
So, when his gaze lifted toward hers once more across the table, when she thought no one was looking, she sent him a reassuring look. And though his expression barely shifted at all, she saw the answering warmth in his eyes.
Later that morning, Malcolm stood at the head of the long oak table in the council chamber, one hand braced against the carved wood as he looked down at the two large parchments spread upon the surface.
Weeks of careful negotiation covered those pages.
The articles thrashed out between him and Kenneth concerned lucrative trade agreements as well as the military and naval obligations owed to an ally in need.
Written in John Morrow’s careful hand, the treaty was the most ambitious alliance Clan Gordon had secured in years.
And now, at long last, it awaited only signatures.
Kenneth Forbes stood opposite Malcolm, dressed for travel, for he and his sister were due to leave that afternoon. Ewan lounged nearby beside Rory, while Quentin and the remaining councilmen gathered around the table observing the proceedings with grave interest.
John dipped his quill into ink. “If ye’re both satisfied with the final terms, me lairds,” he said formally, “we may proceed.”
Malcolm exchanged a brief look with Kenneth.
“Aye,” Kenneth replied smoothly. “Clan Forbes is satisfied.”
“As is Clan Gordon,” Malcolm answered.
John slid the first parchment toward him and handed him the feathered quill. It scratched loudly as he signed his name in bold, practiced strokes at the bottom of the treaty. Kenneth followed suit upon the second copy, one for Forbes, one for Gordon. Then they swapped and signed again.
John sanded the signatures carefully before inviting Ewan and Rory to sign as witnesses. Finally, John added his signature as Clan Secretary, rolled the copies carefully, and sealed them with red wax, which was duly stamped with the insignia of both clans. He handed a copy to Kenneth.
Malcolm exhaled slowly, some long-held tension easing from his shoulders.
“Let’s drink a toast tae seal the deal. A dram all round,” he said. A waiting servant moved quickly to fill the waiting cups with amber liquid.
Kenneth lifted his dram first. “Tae prosperity between our clans.”
“And tae strength in difficult times,” Malcolm added quietly as their cups clinked together.
The whisky burned warmly down Malcolm’s throat. God willing, the agreement would prove worth every sleepless night he had spent negotiating it.
Kenneth set aside his empty cup with a satisfied nod. “Well then, I should see tae preparations for departure before me sister begins threatenin’ mutiny. Ye’ve been very hospitable, but she’s set on leavin’ before the bad weather sets in.”
“Very wise,” Malcolm replied, not at all sorry to see his new ally depart. For politeness’ sake he added as they clasped forearms. “Ye’re both welcome tae comeback and visit whenever ye like. Safe travels.”
“Thank ye. And good fortune tae ye, Gordon,” Kenneth answered, bidding Ewan and the Council goodbye before quitting the chamber. The room itself seemed to exhale in relief when the door shut behind him.
Ewan leaned back against the table with a long breath. “At last,” he muttered. “Christ, I was beginnin’ tae think those parchments would never be signed.”
“Aye, same here,” Malcolm admitted. “But all those weeks of uncertainty have finally paid off.”
And the Forbes’ will be safely away from me keep if Sinclair chooses tae move against me openly.
“Fetch Laird Grant,” Malcolm ordered one of the guards near the door. “Tell him we’re reconvening.”
The man bowed and departed immediately.
While the others talked in low voices amongst themselves, Ewan studied Malcolm sidelong once the door closed. “Ye seem lighter,” he murmured to his brother.
“I’ll feel lighter once the Forbes are across the border.”
“Aye,” Ewan admitted. “Though I suspect there’s another matter weighin’ heavier on yer mind.”
Malcolm shot him a warning look. True to form, Ewan only grinned.
A few moments later the chamber door opened again and Duncan Grant strode inside.
“Am I too late fer the celebratory whisky?” he asked smiling.
“Never too late fer whisky,” Ewan informed him, signaling the servant to do the honors.
Duncan clasped Malcolm’s forearm firmly. “Congratulations, man. Ye managed tae pull it off despite all this chaos with Sinclair,” he said, taking the offered dram and tossing it down his throat before handing the glass back to the servant with thanks.
Malcolm gave a short humorless laugh. “It was a close run thing at times, I’ll admit.
” He moved back toward the table where a large map of Gordon lands remained spread open.
“Tae keep matters calm during the negotiations with Kenneth, I passed the recent troop movements off as a joint trainin’ exercise with Clan Grant. ”
Duncan laughed. “Sneaky. I’m proud of ye.”
“Did Forbes believe it?” Rory asked.
Malcolm shrugged. “He’s too intelligent nae tae suspect more. But I didnae want him thinking we meant tae drag Clan Forbes intae conflict with Sinclair before the treaty was signed.”
“A wise decision,” Duncan agreed. “Now though ye can demand his help legally.”
Laughter rippled around the chamber as Malcolm nodded absently. Now the treaty was signed, his thoughts drifted elsewhere. Toward Catriona.
The upcoming conversation with Duncan loomed over him like an executioner’s blade. In truth, being in the thick of a bloody battle frightened him less than asking his best friend for his sister’s hand.
Battle he understood. But the thought of facing the man he respected most in this world and confessing what had already passed between himself and Catriona made his stomach knot viciously.
Because Duncan knew him. He knew every flaw, every failure, every ghost Malcolm still carried. And despite Catriona’s assurances, part of him still feared his friend might look at him and see precisely what Malcolm saw in the mirror—a man unworthy of her.
He forced the thoughts aside as the meeting settled once more.
Ewan stepped toward the map. “Our scouts returned an hour ago,” he reported grimly.
“Unfamiliar riders have been spotted movin’ through villages east of the river.
” He pointed toward several marked locations.
“Three farmers have also reported armed men askin’ questions about travelers and guests stayin’ here at the castle. ”
A low murmur spread around the chamber. “There’s nay doubt anymore,” Quentin muttered darkly. “Sinclair’s drawing closer.”
“Aye,” Malcolm agreed. “He’s testin’ our defenses.”
Duncan studied the map carefully. “I’ve brought two hundred men with me,” he said evenly. “They’re yers tae command while I’m here, Malcolm. And if necessary, I’ll summon more from Grant lands.”
Relief visibly settled across several faces around the table.
John exhaled slowly. “That changes matters considerably.”
“I’ve also brought supplies enough tae support extended patrols,” Duncan continued. “Food, weapons, feed fer horses.”
Full of gratitude, Malcolm met his friend’s eyes. “Thank ye.”
“’Tis the least I can dae tae thank ye fer rescuin’ me sister and fer bringing trouble tae yer gates,” he replied dryly.