Her Highlander for One Night, page 10
Iain wanted to argue the point, but he held the words behind his teeth. Robert was not finished.
‘I made that mistake and it jeopardised the entire clan,’ Robert said, his voice low and hoarse. ‘I did not see all the possible consequences of choosing love over duty.’ The change in his expression—desperation and loss filled his eyes for a moment and was gone—made his own gut tighten. ‘I should have broken my betrothal to Elizabeth and yet I could not. In choosing to stand by her instead of choosing my duty to my clan, it gave my brother Gilbert control over the clan and over me.’
‘Robert—’ Iain stopped at the curt shake of Robert’s head.
‘Make no mistake, Iain. I would have chosen Elizabeth a thousand times over, but I did not look at it clearly, and by keeping her secret, I gave Gilbert the power to hurt her, to hurt my clan by doing so.’ Iain did know that everyone thought Alan was Robert’s son as well until Gilbert exposed that secret.
Robert reached over and placed his hand on Iain’s shoulder. ‘Denying what you felt for Glynnis places you in danger, too. Acknowledging what you two shared and moving on from it to accept your duty and your place makes it less a weakness and more a choice of your own.’
Of anything the chieftain could have said, no matter what advice or warnings he could have issued, these words, this advice, was not what he expected. To speak on a topic like that—about love—and as though it mattered in the decisions of a powerful chieftain of a mighty clan shocked Iain.
And yet, the strength of the relationship between the lord and his lady, these years later, spoke of the depth of their love. Especially if it had been at the heart of a division that had nearly split the clan.
‘I will think on your words, my lord,’ he said at last. ‘And on how I can regain your trust.’
‘Be honest with yourself first and then be honest with me. Can Lady Glynnis be used against you? Against your clan?’ Iain started to speak, but Robert waved him off. ‘I want no acclamations or promises from you, Iain. I want you to consider my words and we will talk later.’
Robert left before Iain could ask any of the questions that the man’s words had raised. And there were many. His chieftain strode to the doorway leading to the stairs and disappeared within, leaving Iain to wonder what Robert was not saying in spite of revealing much.
Apparently, even the Cameron secrets had secrets.
Chapter Nine
Her body ached as though she’d lived one hundred years.
After the ride here from the cottage and getting settled in a chamber above-stairs, Glynnis fought to keep her eyes open through supper. And she’d thought herself ready to move back into a place filled with other people!
Lady Elizabeth maintained the charade of this being a spontaneous visit well, for it was clear from Iain’s expression as she rode in that he had not known of it. He’d called her Lady Campbell as he’d helped her down so it was clear he’d not heard of her husband’s death either. His shock was palpable to her as he stood a short distance away and listened to his chieftain’s words.
Why had she not told him? Oh, at first she had not the strength to ask or answer questions or talk much at all. But that visit to his work croft would have been the perfect time to tell him. She leaned forward a bit and glanced down the table to where he sat, speaking intently to his stepfather and never once looking in her direction.
She’d thought better of eating the meal here in the hall, but Elizabeth had asked her to do so—and how could she refuse that simple request? Truth be told, the meals here at Achnacarry were her most favourite times. Oh, the food was plain, but always plentiful. The chieftain sat with his closest kin and joined in the discussions, no matter how unimportant or even mundane they were. She remembered meals where some of those who worked in different parts of the castle and village were invited.
There were, certainly, times when Robert and Elizabeth held formal dinners for visiting nobles or important persons from all over Scotland. But the truly best part of those gatherings were the ceilidhs, when song and dance would follow the meal and the hall filled with laughter and clapping and...joy.
‘What are you thinking on, Lady Glynnis?’ Tomas Cameron asked softly from across the table. ‘The strangest smile just brightened your face and I am curious.’
‘Tomas, we have kenned each other long enough that there is no need for “lady” between us,’ she said.
Robbie’s younger brother and Robert’s youngest son, Tomas was a young man of even temperament and filled with a deep sense of kindness and humour. For a brief time, some had held hopes that they would marry, but once Robbie married Sheena and her father had summoned her home with his own plans, there was no possibility of it. Still, they had spent hours together over her years here and he felt more sibling to her than anything else.
‘I was just remembering some of the ceilidhs held here in the hall.’ She stared across the length of the hall where tables now stood while people were eating. Those tables would have been pushed aside to clear the area for dancing. A fiddler and other musicians would be seated nearest the front. Anyone who wished to dance could. No one stood on formality when it came to dancing. ‘That is all.’
‘We have not held one for some time now,’ Tomas said. ‘I am certain there will be one soon, what with—’ He stopped whatever he was going to say when his mother spoke her name.
‘Would you walk with me to my chambers, Glynnis?’
Glynnis stood, as did Tomas and the other men at the table, as the lady walked to her side. Sliding her arm around Glynnis’s, she led her away from the table.
‘You are so pale, I thought you might faint away,’ the lady whispered as they passed through an archway and followed the corridor to the stairway.
‘If you have need of me, my lady—’
‘Nay. That was a ruse to get you away from the table and to your chamber. I did not wish to draw more attention to your distress.’
Glynnis allowed the assistance and they climbed to the floor two flights up and down to the room assigned to her. In the family tower where she’d stayed before. Losing strength with each step, she feared the lady might have been correct. With a quiet word of farewell, her godmother left her.
Maggie waited in the bedchamber for her, her clothing now taken from wherever the lady had stored it on her arrival and her maid had unpacked it, filling the cupboard in the corner and several trunks. Maggie had a talent for turning an empty chamber into a welcoming place as she had the plain little cottage in the woods and as she had made this room.
If she was to be here, at least she would be comfortable in a well-strung bed, piled high with blankets and pillows, all just calling her name and luring her to the depths of sleep. It was only as she drifted to sleep that Tomas’s words repeated in her thoughts. He was certain there would be a ceilidh soon, with...
A ceilidh soon.
To...
* * *
The next thing she knew, the sun’s light had been shining between the wooden shutters that covered the window high up on the wall of her chamber.
Summer storms arrived a few hours later, sending the villagers scampering for cover from the heavy, windblown rains and lightning. For some hours, darkness like night surrounded them and Glynnis could not remember such a storm as this.
Unable to go outside, she joined the lady and her maid and other companions in the solar, where the women worked on various chores and tasks. Glynnis found she enjoyed being in their company, for they seemed content to speak among themselves and not demand that she participate. Their topics changed quickly and not always smoothly, but Glynnis learned much through that morning about changes to the household and within the clan. Much was different from before.
The one topic they did not speak on was their tanist.
Elizabeth’s maid shared her infatuation for one of the guards who accompanied the chieftain on his duties. From the lady’s indulgent smile, Glynnis had no doubt that such a match would be supported. As the chatter continued, sometimes soft and other times more boisterous, it felt the perfect balance to the dark and dismal day outside.
‘Would you like to rest?’ the lady asked after the light repast of cheese and bread and an aromatic soup was cleared from the chamber.
‘I think not, my lady.’ In truth, she’d rested very well last night and did not feel the need to do so now. ‘It does not mean I will not fall asleep at table again, but I think not.’ The attempt at a bit of humour felt forced, but Elizabeth smiled and nodded.
‘You must move at your own pace. No one will place any demands on your time or efforts, Glynnis.’
‘Still no word from my father?’ she asked. This absence from Scotland by her father was much longer than his usual sojourns to his lands in the south. So, her time here, her time without demands, must end soon.
‘Robert’s had no correspondence at all from him.’ Her godmother shifted in her chair, handing off her needle and thread to her maid. ‘Glynnis, I would speak to you about...a matter...’
Elizabeth nodded to the perceptive servants around them and they left quickly and quietly, leaving them alone. Glynnis inhaled in a measured manner, trying to resist the sense of panic that rose unexpectedly in her. Worrying had been absent within her for so long, it took several long moments to recognise it.
‘Since you are here and will be among the villagers and those here in the keep, there is something you should ken.’ Elizabeth leaned in closer. ‘Since Iain was named tanist just before you arrived here, I doubt you know this yet.’
Even though they’d spent some time together, Iain had revealed almost nothing about his life and this new role. Well, other than that he continued on with his carving. But she’d not felt the need or necessity to reveal anything about hers either. Now, though, curiosity rose, pushing aside the first rush of trepidation.
‘Robert has arranged a betrothal for Iain. One that will be of great benefit to the Camerons. One that will link him to the King’s family.’ Elizabeth met her gaze and watched her closely as she finished. ‘One that will link the Camerons to the royal family.’
Delivered in such a quiet and balanced tone, Glynnis could not be sure that the lady supported this alliance or not. Expecting joy or happiness in such an announcement, she was more surprised to hear none of it. Or did the lady hold back on her account?
‘That sounds very advantageous,’ Glynnis said. ‘For Iain and your family.’
It was an honest comment, for marriage to someone related to the King could bring their clan into a higher level of influence within the country. Such a marriage would have enormous benefits and give Iain opportunities he’d never have had as an unknown cousin of The Cameron. One that the Iain she’d known would never have sought or been considered for before she’d left.
‘To whom is he betrothed, my lady?’ The King was related to many clans and families throughout Scotland, France, England and more.
‘She is called to Elen verch Pwyll, in the Welsh way. A cousin related to the King by his great-grandmother,’ Elizabeth said. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth, a small sign of pleasure with this match. ‘Descended from Llewelyn the Great of Wales.’
‘The Cameron must be pleased.’ Any chieftain in possession of half their wits and any measure of intelligence would be pleased. Her own father would be crowing loudly to any and all souls if he’d a son connected even in this small way to the King. Small or even tenuous connections were still useful. ‘Have you or your husband met the woman yet?’ That would be the customary way of it.
‘Nay. The lady will come here by summer’s end. If everything is as it should be...’ Elizabeth paused. If there were no significant obstacles or objections between them. ‘The marriage will be held in autumn.’
Glynnis nodded. Her godmother continued to study her, as though waiting for some outburst or questions. She did have questions, several of them swirled in her thoughts, but she would rather speak to Iain. He deserved an explanation for her silence, especially after his attempts to watch over her while she stayed in the cottage. And, she understood, for more than that. She owed Elizabeth even more.
‘I will offer him my best wishes when I speak to him next,’ she said. Glynnis stood, shaking the wrinkles out of her day gown as she did. ‘May I take my leave of you, my lady? It looks like the rains have stopped and I would like to walk a bit.’
Her godmother stood and reached out to her for a brief moment before allowing her hand to drop. Glynnis made her way across the chamber, dropping her own embroidery in a basket by the door. She lifted the latch, waiting with each step to be called back. On reaching the corridor without another word being spoken, she turned and walked along the hallway, reacquainting herself with the turns and corners of the keep as she made her way to the lower storey and to the door that led out to the yard.
It was hard to believe that the morning had been so dark and stormy when taking in the bright sun that now reflected off the puddles collected in divots and pooled in the gulley that divided the yard with its water rushing downhill. Having a care to step over and around them, she found a remembered out-of-the-way spot and watched the busyness of the keep and its surrounding buildings. Tasks that needs must be accomplished regardless of the rain would wait no longer—the keep and the yard seemed to awaken as if from a nap like the one Lady Elizabeth suggested she take.
Small groups of servants and warriors and those who worked in the stable and the kitchen and the storehouses took up their chores and duties. Except for her. Glynnis found the small alcove between the stables and the enclosed area where the warriors trained. The sunlight, now unfiltered by thick clouds, heated the ground and the areas not shaded, so she stepped back in the shadows to avoid it.
Glynnis lost herself in the sights and sounds of everyday life here, something she’d been away from for three years. Once she’d married, she’d lived at the whims and direction of her husband, his father and his mother. Expected to be the companion to her mother-by-marriage and to get on with producing heirs for her husband, her life was limited and centred. No time left on her own, to spend observing those who lived with them. With few, if any, friends and no opportunity to make them, Glynnis herself had diminished with each passing month and sorrow. When she arrived here, she was hollowed out, like a dressed deer after a kill.
She inhaled the rain-freshened air and felt it within her. Those three years and all but nothing left to boast of. Except that she’d been the perfect lady. The perfect wife. The perfect companion. Accepting direction. Following orders. Praying for bairns. And praying again. And again.
Glynnis closed her eyes and let out all this newly built frustration. Or maybe she’d just not allowed herself to feel that before? She was so intent on being the woman she’d been trained and taught to be that she’d ignored her own misgivings and needs. But that was the only way she knew to be.
And now? What did she do now?
Standing there, eyes closed, breathing in the fresh, pine-scented Highland air, she did not hear anything until he spoke.
* * *
Iain had not crept up on her. Indeed, he had strode towards her a-purpose, making no secret that he was getting closer to her. As he walked nearer, he noticed that she stood with her face lifted towards the sunny sky with her eyes closed. The sense of calm in her features as she stood there in silence made him hesitate before speaking.
He’d seen her sobbing. He’d seen her staring off into the depths of the forest. He’d watched as she’d examined every tool and part of his workbench. Each time, each encounter was like meeting a different woman from the one before and very different from the one he’d known. Or thought he had.
Iain watched her in silence, as the gentling breezes managed to lift the veil that lay over her hair and free some of her long brown curls. With her hair swirling around her face and the calm of her expression, she looked more like he remembered. At least now he understood some of the travails in her life that had caused such changes in her appearance and her manners.
She was in mourning.
Her husband, Martainn Campbell, had died just several months ago. Robert did not have many other details, but he had shared that the death was sudden and unexpected. An accident of some kind. Such a thing would have shocked her, for certain. And without children to bind her to her husband’s kin, she would have needed the refuge her godmother offered.
Aye, Robert had told him that bit as well. If mother to the heir’s heir, she would have been afforded a place of honour and welcome there. Without that claim...
When she let out a sigh, he knew he must speak before she discovered him standing here gawping at her.
‘Does it feel strange to be back here, Glynnis?’
Her eyes opened slowly, as if rising from a deep sleep or pleasant dream, and his body reacted in a way he’d not expected. As it seemed to do with regularity when she was nigh. After blinking a few times, she nodded.
‘It does, truly. Stranger here even than the cottage.’
‘Sheena likes this spot when she visits.’
‘I remember. Out of the way, shaded by the stables and trees. You can watch without being seen,’ she said. Glynnis had been a staunch supporter of Robbie’s wife upon her arrival here. She’d protected the woman from scrutiny and guided Robbie to discover what was at the heart of Sheena’s difficulties. ‘I have not heard from her...in some months. Is she—are they well?’
