Her Highlander for One Night, page 6
As supper progressed, he thought on little else but Glynnis and the meaning of the midwife’s visit to her. Strange if she was here and her Campbell husband remained behind. And if the man had travelled with her, notice would have been taken, for the man’s presence here would be uncomfortable at best. Though allies to the Mackintoshes, the Camerons and the Campbells were not on good terms. The chieftain’s son would need their chieftain’s permission to be here. And if Robert had granted such approval, Iain would have been informed.
He had so many questions and no one who could answer them—save one. The one he would not take the chance of asking. Not with her haunted eyes and gaunt face and fragile bearing. Iain would have to take his time to learn her secrets or at least uncover her reasons for being here.
‘Are you too high in the chieftain’s regard that you no longer stand guard?’
Robbie laughed as Iain made a gesture to answer the insult given. Serving as a guard, walking the walls and checking the gates and outbuildings was one of the first duties Iain was assigned to when he’d asked for a chance to serve. Achnacarry, being the main estate of The Cameron, was both highly protected and well secured. Every able man served as a guard at some time in his life. Robert believed that no one was too high or low to protect the clan.
‘Come and see if you remember how ’tis done,’ Iain said as he stood and waited on Robert to give him leave with a nod of his head.
They reached the top of the keep and walked to the far corner before speaking, a practice they’d begun when one of them needed the counsel of a friend. And, over the years they’d grown up together, it had happened many times. After a short time, and as the guards took up new positions away from them, Iain broke the silence.
‘So, when is this new Cameron expected?’
‘God willing, midwinter.’
‘Will you stay at Tor or bring her here for the birth?’
Robbie shrugged. ‘We will wait to see her through the next months and decide that.’
Bearing a child was the most dangerous thing a woman could do, even though it was the one thing expected in marriages made for heirs.
Iain stared across the yard and listened as the sounds of the day faded even as the light remained strong. The nights grew shorter as summer was upon them. In winter, it would be fully dark before they ate their evening meal. But now, it would be light enough to ride by for several more hours.
Robbie cleared his throat and let out a loud breath, gaining Iain’s attention. Which had been his friend’s purpose after all.
‘Is it the betrothal that vexes you?’ Robbie asked. Iain met his friend’s intense stare. ‘Or being named tanist so quickly?’
‘Neither of those,’ he said. He spoke the truth, for he’d not spent a moment worrying over either of those two matters. ‘Something else.’
‘Someone else?’ Robbie’s gaze narrowed. Iain nodded.
‘Did Sheena continue to write to...Glynnis when she left?’ he asked.
‘She did.’ Robbie was going to make this difficult.
‘Even after she married?’
‘Aye.’
Iain faced his cousin and shoved his shoulder. Robbie’s laughter told Iain he was right—the man was being a pain in the arse on purpose. So, Iain shoved him again, slamming him up against the wall.
‘Hold!’ Robbie laughed once more as he held up his hands in surrender. He tugged his tunic and plaid back into place and nodded. ‘Aye. Sheena has written and heard from Glynnis since she married. She heard from her every few months until...a short time ago.’ Robbie crossed his arms over his chest and studied him. ‘Why do you ask this? And why now?’
Was it wise to tell him all of it? If the only risk was speaking to his father about it, well, Iain knew that their chieftain was aware of and not happy about the lady’s presence here. The disagreement between the laird and his wife made sense when his own mother had made him swear not to reveal what he knew. When he did not reply, Robbie smiled.
‘I think the betrothal has you more worried than you would like.’
Iain backed up and turned away, taking a stance against the wall and looking over the yard once more. Let Robbie think what he might, if it would get Iain what he wanted—more information about what had happened to Glynnis.
‘Mayhap.’
‘You must ken that I am not the man to give advice about arranged marriages,’ Robbie said. ‘But, considering how mine turned out, I can recommend it to you.’
Robbie and Sheena had been betrothed when they believed they hated each other. Only a fool, as Robbie had been for some time, could not see the truth, and the love, there between them. It had taken serious strife and a huge risk on Robbie’s part for them to find their way.
‘You kenned Sheena, mayhap too well, but you had knowledge of each other. With the King’s cousin, ’tis different.’
‘Well, my friend, what would make you not marry the King’s Welsh relative? Looks? Demeanour?’ Robbie reached out and tapped Iain’s shoulder. ‘In truth you ken none of that will stop this from happening.’
Iain had not been concerned with the betrothal. He brought it up only to steer Robbie’s questions away from his interest in Glynnis, but now he suspected he should be. He glanced at Robbie’s face and understood the truth in his words.
‘There is nothing that will stop it,’ he admitted.
‘Just so,’ Robbie said, smacking Iain’s shoulder. ‘And the benefits of this marriage—for you, our clan and even the King and lady herself will smooth out any roughness in the road to it.’
Accepting his cousin’s words, Iain nodded and turned to leave. He’d almost reached the place where the guards on duty had retreated when Robbie spoke again.
‘Was there anything in particular about Glynnis you wanted to ken?’
Chapter Five
Days had passed and Glynnis felt stronger with each one.
And, for the first time, a small amount of disappointment filled her as another day passed without Iain’s promised return. After that, an unexpected niggling of curiosity happened when Maggie mentioned some inconsequential comment the miller had made about Iain’s skills in carving and finishing all manner of wood structures. What was his life like now as tanist? When had that happened? Her gaze even now returned to her bed, where she’d placed the growing menagerie of animals carefully under the pallet and out of sight.
For months, she’d simply reacted and never looked more closely at the people, places or situations around her. Feeling anything after losing so much hurt too unbearably so she chose to push it all away instead. Her body and heart could not heal with such grief inside her. With this new interest to know more about him came the realisation that mayhap she was ready to begin healing. Mayhap she could live once more. Mayhap the emptiness in her heart would ease and she would find something that made her smile?
The days passed in much the same way as the ones before—waking, breaking her fast, mending or sewing, taking a walk in the forest, sometimes napping when her strength gave out, supping and seeking her rest at night. Maggie had guided her those first weeks, but now the slow pace of her life chafed a bit. Though a lady by birth and marriage, she had always been busy. Tasks to complete, chores to do or to oversee, and more filled her days.
Marriage had changed some of that, pregnancy others, but hours of leisure were something she was not accustomed to at all. At least not for long. She had lingered in her sickbed after losing the first two bairns, that had been early in each of those pregnancies and the bodily changes were quickly gone. So life went on after those losses.
The loss this time had defeated her. When Martainn’s shocking accident and death brought on her labour, the bairn had struggled for life even as she fought to live. The boy, the heir Martainn craved so much, passed and Glynnis gave up.
She let go of life, too. She let go of being concerned about...anything around her. Only Martainn’s mother, consulting with Glynnis’s godmother, saved her life by arranging this stay.
But now, now a small shift was beginning within her. Her body was healing from the physical loss. Her strength was rebuilding within her. And these last few days, emotions were rising and she recognised them.
The soft knock on the door startled her from her reverie. She had not stopped sewing the rend in the tunic even as her thoughts swirled, but now she placed it down and watched as Maggie opened the door. His now deeper voice was soft as he spoke.
‘I have come to speak with the lady,’ he said. Maggie tugged the door open wider and Glynnis nodded when he saw her there.
‘I am here.’ Glynnis stood and smoothed her gown.
‘Will you walk? The night is pleasant and there are a few hours of sunlight left.’
Glynnis noticed Maggie’s interested gaze as she looked back and forth between the two of them. Now she stared at Glynnis, awaiting her answer to this invitation. The girl knew who Iain was, even if she did not know the story of their past. Few here knew the whole of it and those who did would not gossip about it.
Glynnis nodded and walked to the door. As she stepped outside, Maggie handed her a shawl. Iain moved back to allow her to pass him. Uncertain of where to go, Glynnis waited for him. Iain stepped to her side and walked in the direction of the path she usually took.
He had watched her over the last weeks.
At first his strides were longer and faster than hers, but in little time he adjusted his gait to remain by her side. They had walked out like this a number of times when she’d lived here before and it felt familiar and soothing. Truly, the only bad part of loving Iain had been the leaving.
She stumbled at that thought and he caught her arm, holding her elbow until she steadied. She noticed he did not relinquish his hold immediately, but used it to guide her down the path that led to the loch. They walked in silence for a short distance and he dropped his arm to his side.
‘So, do you plan to visit the village during your stay?’ he asked as they reached the turn in the path. He slowed his pace.
A polite enquiry on his part, but being asked as a question, and the expectation of a reply startled her. Her husband’s family simply left her on her own during the days and weeks after his death—she was consulted about nothing. Not his funeral and burial. Not their bairn’s.
‘I think not,’ she said as they continued on.
‘There are many who would enjoy seeing you. Many remember you fondly from your time here.’
‘I fear ’tis not as simple as walking into the village, Iain. ’Tis...complicated.’
Without facing her, he made a little sound that was like a huff while not quite. A memory of that sound echoed in her thoughts, but she could not bring it clearly to mind. The sound was a familiar one. A habit he’d had when presented with something unexpected. Glynnis waited for him to challenge her words or to invite her to say more. When she did not, he made that little sound and continued on.
‘Are you well, Glynnis? With my mother’s attendance, and Lorna’s, I suspect that your health is—’
‘Improving,’ she said before he could say more. His question would lead to another and another and more along a path she did not wish to tread. ‘I am better with each passing day.’
Whether due to their pace or the tension and fear that ran like the stream’s current within her, Glynnis found herself short of breath. Pausing before her control of the panic grew unmanageable, she forced herself to breathe more slowly. He surprised her by holding out his flask to her.
‘A wee sip of this will ease your worries, Glynnis.’ She just stared at the offering, undecided about accepting or rejecting it. The expectant glimmer in his gaze convinced her.
He tugged it open and held it up to her mouth. She drew a small taste of it and let it slide over her tongue and down her throat. The burn almost overwhelmed her, but she did not fight the potent brew as it slid down into her stomach. She swallowed once more and the warmth spread out from her belly and into her limbs. When his arm slipped around her waist, she allowed it.
They walked along, reaching the place where she stopped by habit, and he guided her to the edge of the water. The sun dipped down behind the hills in the distance, adding a chill to the summer evening. Whether from the heat of his body so close to hers or the feeling of the spirits spreading through her blood, Glynnis only knew she did not shiver as was usual for her lately if not near a blazing hearth.
‘Is there something here that draws your attention, Glynnis? I notice you stop in this place often.’
His voice, closer than she’d realised it, teased her with its softness. The revelation of his watching her forced a question.
‘How many times have you watched me walk?’
A pause suggested he would not answer her question. He let out a breath.
‘Too many.’ His shrug rubbed against her shoulder. ‘Curiosity drew me here at first. As tanist, I need to be aware of everything that happens here in Achnacarry and in the clan.’ He faced her without moving his arm from its place around her. ‘Then, when I realised you were...ill and my mother would give me no information about you, I began watching and waiting for you to leave the cottage. To see if you were yet in need of help. To see if you were well.’
‘Iain.’ Uncertain of what else to say, she glanced away.
‘I thought we parted as friends, Glynnis. How could I ignore a friend in need?’
Why had he said that? In the time since their parting, Glynnis had pushed all memories of him, of them, from her mind and even now she could not bring them back. She would not. Danger lay in doing that. In looking at what could have been. At what had been.
So, what was left between them besides the memories she refused to dredge up? Glynnis drew on years of training in the behaviour expected of a woman of noble birth and allowed the habits of those years to curve her mouth into a practised smile.
‘Aye, Iain. I would not expect you to do that. I appreciate that you sought out the truth,’ she said.
She hoped she’d imbued the words with more confidence than she felt. When he smiled back, she nearly lost her breath at the unadulterated male beauty that met her gaze. Gone was the boyish expression and in its place were the rugged angles of a man’s face. It had been a long time since the smile of a man had caused her mind to muddle, but in this moment, she could not think of a thing to say.
‘The warmth and light are fading,’ he said, pulling her out of her confusion. ‘We should head back to the cottage before you take a chill.’
When he took her by the hand, she allowed it, surprised at the little waves of...feelings that raced through her. His touch. His nearness. His breath near her ear. His voice. All things she’d not taken notice of for a long time.
Their walk back took little time, for they’d not made it very far from the cottage, and soon she saw Maggie standing in the open doorway watching them. He released her hand and she continued alone to the waiting servant, who stepped back to allow her entrance. Glynnis looked back to say...something...to him, but Iain had already turned towards his horse tied to the tree nearest the cottage.
In her enthusiasm, Maggie nearly pushed Glynnis inside and had her sitting next to the hearth, wrapped in a shawl and sipping a cup of Anna’s herbal concoction before the sound of his departure dissipated. Though her servant gave her a number of expectant glances, Glynnis was not tempted to speak about Iain or his appearance here.
’Twas simply a meeting of two long-separated friends.
A chance to remember a more pleasant time in her life.
If she could allow the memories free.
If she dared.
Exhaustion filled her as she finished the tea and she allowed Maggie to help her ready for bed. Her body welcomed sleep while her thoughts did not. For the first time in months, curiosity crept in and a single question tasked her mind.
When would he return?
* * *
As it turned out, the answer to that question was two days later.
Though the sight of this new Iain, sitting astride his horse outside her door and staring at her with an intensity and confidence that made her shiver, surprised her, she was not unhappy about his arrival. A twinge of pleasure made her smile as he spoke her name.
‘Would you ride with me?’
Glynnis glanced around and saw only one horse—his. Did he mean that she should...? His outstretched hand was the answer. It would not be the first time she’d ridden with him. A fleeting memory of a sunny day and the long path alongside Loch Lochy on the way to Tor. The wind lifting her hair and their laughter echoing out behind them as they raced south.
A carefree time.
Before...
‘What were you thinking on just now? You smiled at some thought.’ He yet held out his hand, waiting for her to take it.
‘A memory of another day and another ride,’ she admitted. That truth and accepting it startled her.
‘’Twas not uncommon for us,’ he said. ‘Until...’
She reached out for his hand, not making the decision to do so, but doing it anyway. ‘Until?’
His smile was a sad one as he pulled her up and guided her across his legs. ‘Until we had to leave it behind for the responsibilities that awaited us.’
Glynnis chose not to reply to that mild way of describing what had happened between them. As he wrapped his arms around her and adjusted his hold on the reins, she waited for him to urge his horse forward. Although the specific memories were vague in her recollection, her body’s response was quite clear—she leaned back into his embrace as though that ride had been just yesterday and not more than three years ago.
For a moment, she was the carefree younger woman who used to ride with him. One whose proper behaviour slipped a bit around Iain Mackenzie. He had been her weakness. Her guilty transgression. Her...past.
