Chapter 12 #2
She looked so hopeful, though his heart had stopped beating for the moment it had taken her to reply, Erik couldn’t help but smile.
Her answer told him she would not leave him.
Or try to sneak away to Inverness when things got tough—as they inevitably would.
She took her position as lady of the clan seriously and was willing to put her own resources—all of them—into it.
Into helping him build the clan he’d always believed he could.
Her offer would make that easier, and make it come true all the sooner.
“I think I love ye, Wife.”
“Nay, ye dinna get to say that to me now. No’ after accusing me of cuckolding ye. Ye dinna love me. But ye do need me still. We made a good start until ye let yerself doubt me.”
“Ye wish to argue with me? Very well, we made a good start before I found out ye have a house in Inverness, a place ye could go that yer former clan chief didna ken, a place that should have been declared before the betrothal agreement was signed.”
“If ye were a lass, ye would ken why I kept that to myself.”
“Ye think I canna understand something so important to ye? Yet ye dinna give me the chance.”
She swallowed and dropped her gaze. “I didna ken ye. I still dinna, any more than ye ken me. I had to protect myself. Should I be sorry for having a chance to do that? And holding that knowledge close?”
His heart bled for the remorse in her eyes when she lifted her gaze to him.
“Nay, lass. I see what ye mean. And I’m sorry for every harsh word I’ve ever said to ye.
” He pulled her into his arms. “Ye meant what ye said. I believe ye. And I am more grateful than ye can ken that ye are staying with me.”
“Of course, or I wouldna have said it. Or made such an offer.” She stroked his cheek, then stepped back. “But I dinna think ye love me. No’ yet. Ye like me. Ye want me. And ye need me. For now, that is enough.”
“Are ye saying ye dinna love me?”
“I dinna ken ye well enough yet. I will come to love ye, that I believe, or I wouldha stayed in Inverness. I’m entrusting everything I have, everything I am, in ye. In Ross. It may no’ yet be love, but someday, it may be.”
“I suppose I’ll have to be satisfied with that,” he said, though he wasn’t satisfied at all. “But nay for long, my wife. Once, long ago, I had parents who loved each other. I ken what that can mean. I want it. With ye.”
“Then we agree we have more work to do. And speaking of that,” she said, turned and started pacing.
“Here’s the next item on my list of ideas.
I added it while I was away and realized we dinna have to do everything by ourselves.
People in town depend on each other and trade skills.
Rose relies on Brodie and they on Rose, among others.
’Tis time to recruit help from our allies.
” She paused and faced him. “If we sell the house in Inverness, we’ll have enough to pay for a smithy and the stone mason to come for a season.
Labor, someone to build a forge, maybe loan us a smith rather than have to pay one to make everyday implements, pots and pans, no’ just weapons.
Build stables for more horses, someone to manage a larger cattle herd, all of it.
There is clay aplenty, so build a kiln. Use our friends to help make Ross more self-sufficient.
Take in more of their youth as fosters. Some will stay.
Expand our community outside this village.
Else we willna survive, no matter how many trees ye fell. ”
Relief washed through Erik, warm and soft enough to make him weak.
Her reply removed any last slivers of poisonous doubt that she’d had or contemplated an affair.
She was still trying, as he was, to assure the future of his—nay, of their—clan, and of the future they could build together, for each other as well as for themselves.
He set the rumor aside for the last time, and focused on Fiona’s list. He scoffed, “By depending on allies to get us there?”
“Why no’? Those allies went through growing pains, too. As are we, as laird and lady. Some lessons have been painful and embarrassing. I hope ye listened to me and have resolved to better control yer temper.”
“In the past three days?” He said it as a jest, but in truth, he had.
He knew her departure would weaken support for him, and her patience with his fierce side was tenuous at best. He had to learn to rule with a velvet glove over his iron fist. He’d learned how not to act from Donas, but found himself mirroring Donas when he got angry.
That had to stop. Fiona’s approval meant everything to him.
The next morning, after a late night of lovemaking, Fiona woke before Erik.
She got up quietly, pulled on some clothes and left their cottage, planning to head to Cook’s cot to break her fast. She paused to admire the sunrise and breathe in the salty air blowing in off of the firth.
Things were again well between the laird and lady.
Erik had returned to his usual tender self with her.
She expected today he would be much more relaxed around everyone else as well.
She knew he would not stop searching for the source of the rumor that had disturbed their peace, but he knew she would be listening as well, and had much better sources for gossip among the women of the clan.
Though, when men started drinking and boasting, perhaps someone would slip and reveal themselves.
Whoever was behind it would give themselves away eventually.
Fiona’s main concern was to try to anticipate what they might do next.
Their attempt to destroy the accord between the laird and lady had failed.
What other trouble were they concocting?
She would listen and watch with a smile on her face, determined to continue to win over the women of the clan—and as many of the men as would approve of her efforts.
Today she’d intended to talk to a few more of the men—with an escort, as Erik demanded, but Tira showed up at her door and made her rethink her plans.
“The tide is nearly out,” she announced. “’Tis the perfect time to search the rocks on the shoreline for shellfish. Are ye coming?”
Fiona didn’t hesitate. This was the first time Tira had approached her with an offer of a common activity. “Of course.” She grabbed a basket and followed Tira.
They made their way easily down the cliff path to the tidal break and below it.
Rocks large and small littered the coastline.
Several varieties of shellfish liked to cling to them.
Others buried themselves in the loose gravel and sand usually covered by high tide.
The same was true on the Rose side of the firth, where Fiona had spent many happy hours as a lass finding and collecting food for their clan.
It surprised her that no one else was out here doing just that. Nor did she see any other lasses. “Where is everyone?”
Tira shrugged. “Likely still abed. We’ll find the best before the rest arrive, aye?”
That made sense, so they bent to work. Fiona lost herself in the simple pleasure of searching and finding their quarry, plucking or cutting them loose from the rocks, and adding them to her basket.
She followed Tira into the next cove, even more richly filled with shellfish.
By the time Fiona straightened from her basket and looked around for Tira to suggest they take their prize up to Cook before they could no longer lift its weight, she realized she was alone.
And low tide was long past. The sea was surging into the cove, blocking the passage back to the Ross cove with their boats.
She was trapped. And a glance at the surrounding cliffs showed her the high tide line. She was cut off from safety, and she would soon drown.
“Where is Lady Ross? Have ye seen her yet this morning?” Erik asked the same question of everyone he encountered after he woke to find her gone, and didn’t find her in Cook’s cot helping him, or breaking her fast.
Eventually, one of the early risers told him, “I went down to check on the boats and saw her and Tira harvesting shellfish.”
Erik hurried to the cliff edge and peered down into the main cove. He didn’t see anyone until he noticed a woman slowly crossing it toward the path out of the cove. Tira, a basket in her arms. Where was Fiona?
“Tira, where is my wife?”
As soon as she heard his voice calling down to her, her pace increased. “Ach, Laird Ross, ’tis awful! I didna see. She went into the next cove. The one that floods. I was coming to seek help.”
Erik swore and called out to the few people about in the village to send help, then ran past Tira down the path, nearly falling from its edge in his haste. He slowed and made his way more carefully. It would do Fiona no good if he killed himself on the way down.
When he reached the bottom, he realized the situation was more dire than he’d feared. The tide shift was well underway. The high tide line in the cove had advanced by several feet, which meant the passage into the next cove would be several feet deep in heaving seawater by now.
He ran, calling Fiona’s name, and splashed into the edge of the passage where the cliffs extended out into the sea in high tide.
“Erik! I’m here. How do I get out?”
Upon hearing her voice, he could have wept for joy.
“Dinna try to swim, love. I’ll come to ye.
” Her dress would billow and pull her under.
He’d heard the story Muireall Munro had related about being trapped with Euan Brodie in that cove.
He’d kept her from drowning when her clothes tangled about her legs and the undertow pulled her down.