Chapter 11
Later that afternoon, word got back to Fiona about Erik’s confrontation with the man who’d threatened her, and her heart sank at the news.
She blamed herself, and feared she had become more divisive than helpful.
Erik had already told her he was concerned about her becoming a target of Donas’ partisans who wanted to unseat him.
He’d been right, and she’d walked right into their trap, doing exactly what Erik had told her not to do—allowing a meeting with one of the men, alone.
Nonetheless, Erik’s response was dangerous to both of them.
Somehow, she had to make him see that he couldn’t continue to let his anger rule him, or his control of this clan would not last long.
She did not believe he was a cruel man like Donas had been.
He already regretted the times he’d lost his temper, and she knew that regret would grow and deepen with each failure to be the better man.
He’d married her because he knew that and wanted her help to make Ross better, but also for her to help him do the same.
When he and the men came into the village at the end of the day, she made sure he had something to eat and time to relax with other people around him. But when they returned to their cot, she faced the confrontation she’d been dreading most of the day.
“I heard about what happened in the forest today.”
“What do ye mean?”
“That ye found Osgar asleep and threatened to kill him and might have done it had Tormod no’ intervened in time to stop ye.”
Erik frowned. “That is no’ exactly what happened, Fiona.”
She shrugged. “’Tis what I heard, so perhaps that is something ye must consider.
Rumors grow and worsen, no matter what ye say or do.
Can ye no’ understand what effect that has on how the clan sees ye?
Ye say ye dinna want to govern as Donas did, yet what got back to me was that ye threatened one of yer men with death for laziness.
I ken that is no’ the kind of laird ye want to be. ”
“Who told ye? How did it get back to ye?”
“I willna tell ye that, save to say that it did.” Some of the women had gone to the forest with more food and drink for the men. She didn’t know which of them carried the tale back to the village. It didn’t matter.
“’Twas naught to fash about, Fiona. I reminded him what Donas might have done, and asked if that was what he wanted.
Added to his threats against ye, aye, I was displeased.
But I didna threaten to kill him. Osgar is lazy.
He did this sort of thing before ye arrived here. He is my problem, not yers.”
That lit her temper. “He may be yer problem, but ye are mine. And this clan’s. What ye said to him was still a threat. Listen to yerself, Erik. Ye canna react so strongly every time something ye dinna like happens.”
“There are times when I must. I dinna like it either, but Osgar earned that confrontation. And Tormod decided his punishment, no’ I, though I agreed to it.”
“And that makes what ye did better?” She saw the flare of heat in his eyes and it occurred to her to wonder how far she should push him. Would he lash out at her? Despite all his words to the contrary, she had learned his temper could flare at any time, stretching his control to its limits.
But it seemed he still had it under a tight leash with her. “Lass, ’tis done,” he finally said. “I understand what ye are saying to me. I regret what I did. Ye dinna need to berate me. I’ve done enough of that myself. And I’m grateful that ye are determined to help me.”
That raised her sympathy for him, though she tried to control that, too. Had he learned his lesson today? Only time would tell. But for now, her husband needed her understanding. What else could she do, save give it?
The evening before she and Cook were due to leave for Inverness, Erik again complained in the privacy of their cottage about losing some of the manpower for the work he was doing because of their trip.
Fiona had heard enough. “Ye ken Cook and I and others have taken stock of the larder. We will no’ get through the winter without more supplies, and without the men fishing in good weather so we can salt and dry a good supply.
And hunting as often as need be to keep meat in the clan’s bellies.
The women have planted a winter garden, but it will be months before we get a harvest from that, if the coneys and deer dinna steal it from us.
A wall around it would do much for the clan’s future.
” She held up a hand. “Aye, ye ken ’tis needed, and ’tis on the list of things to build, and it takes men to build it, but perhaps ye might move it up the list. Else, we’ll be making more trips to markets. ”
“How do ye propose we pay for all these things ye plan to buy?” He looked annoyed. Or embarrassed? Was he back to thinking his clan wasn’t good enough for her? Or that he wasn’t? If so, he wouldn’t like her answer, but he had to hear it.
Fiona hesitated, then rallied, hoping this admission wouldn’t give the rest of her secret away. “I inherited some jewelry. I will sell it and use the coin for whatever we need.” She didn’t mention her small cache of coins, which she intended to save against greater need.
“Ye inherited some jewelry,” he repeated, his tone flat, inflectionless.
Was he angry? Or floored? She couldn’t tell. He hadn’t given his thoughts or feelings away.
“Aye. And I’d rather use it to help our people survive, even thrive, than wear it while hoeing a garden.”
That earned a frown. “Fiona, I ken this is no’ the life ye expected, nor a home to equal Rose—”
“Stop right there,” she ordered, patience snapping.
She knew he worried that he’d brought her somewhere well below her supposed station in life, and that neither he nor his clan could measure up to where she came from.
“I ken what ye are thinking. And ballocks to that. I canna cut down trees or stack rocks. I am no’ a healer, no’ even a very good cook.
But I possess something that can help our clan.
Our clan. To get through the winter. To buy time to get better established and achieve some of yer goals so we prosper through the next winter and the winters after that. Why does that fash ye?”
Erik heaved out a breath and leaned back in his chair.
“I…” He shook his head. “Ye are right. It shouldna. But I saw much at Rose, from the strength of its walls, to the laird’s solar, to our chamber, to the plentiful meals and sturdy clothing.
Ross canna compare. Every day, I feel I should apologize to ye for bringing ye here. ”
“Ballocks, Husband.” She planted her hands on her hips, and took a step toward him.
“I’m here because I want to be with ye. And because of what we accomplished with the alliance, and what we can still do.
Ye are no’ the only one with ambitions for this clan.
Never think ye are alone in that. And I dinna mean just me.
Tormod, Cook, Cara, a host of others. Ye focus on the problems, as ye must, but at times, ye forget the good we do. The progress we’ve made. Together.”
“Ye are wiser than I, Wife.”
“Nay, I am no’. Ye wanted me to help ye.
I am trying to do that. We also need medicines that I can get at the market.
Our healer is inexperienced and doesna ken how to make many potions that might help against lung ailments that set in during the cold season.
Without them, people may die. This is the harvest market when most of what we need will be plentiful.
So, tell me, are ye certain giving up two or three days of work on the wall by four guards is too much to ask?
Our marriage has resulted in peace among the neighboring clans for the first time in…
well, I dinna ken how long. But perhaps ye can afford a slight delay for a good purpose. ”
Erik had tried to interrupt her several times as she railed at him, but she never stopped for breath.
When she finally ran down, instead of shouting at her, he simply stared for several heartbeats, then held up a hand to forestall any more comments, turned and left their cot.
She supposed that was his way of giving himself time for his temper to cool, but she wanted an answer.
She was tempted to go after him, but would not let their disagreement become a scene the entire clan would enjoy. Or fear.
So she stayed where she was, readied herself for bed after checking that her travel bag was full, and tried to go to sleep. They were leaving early in the morning, sailing to Inverness. The weather looked to be fine. She hoped something would be.
Erik didn’t return before she dropped off to sleep.
She woke before dawn to discover he had not returned at all.
She got up and dressed, ate some of the bread and cheese she’d set by to break her fast, picked up her bag, and went to Cook’s cot.
He and the guards going with them were there, ready to go.
Fiona looked around outside as they made their way to the cliff’s edge and still didn’t see Erik.
With a resigned shrug, she followed the men down the path to the beach and the waiting birlinn. He wasn’t there, either.
“Has anyone seen him?” she asked Cook quietly.
“I dinna ken, lass, but dinna fash. I’m sure he’s all right.”
The whole way, she fretted about Erik. She couldn’t believe he’d let her leave without saying goodbye or good voyage or something.
Had she gone too far in chastising him? Was this the end of their marriage?
When Inverness came into view, a sense of homesickness filled her.
She’d enjoyed living here. She hadn’t been a pawn of clan chiefs.
She’d lived a simple life caring for Arabella in a house that was not a burden to care for.