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A Highlander Born From Chaos (Highlanders 0f Kirklinton Book 2) Page 17
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And he would be right, Hamish thought to himself, for it was not his intention to continue in the same manner which his father and his father before him had done.
There would be no more war, not if Hamish could help it. No more divisions or siding with the enemy. Hamish had made up his mind. He wanted peace and an end to that which had so divided the border clans. No longer would the name of MacBryde be despised, not if Hamish could help it.
Despite his tiredness, Hamish kept vigil at his father’s bedside. The fire burned low, and he dismissed the servants, telling them that nothing further could be done for their master. He watched as his father’s breathing became ever more labored and heavier. There was nothing that could be done now, no hope of a remedy, and Hamish knew that the hour was coming when he would be proclaimed Laird.
At length, his father opened his eyes, rasping, and beginning to cough. Hamish helped him to rise, his eyes wide, as though his whole body were in pain from the effort of doing so.
“Father, easy now, come, let me help ye,” Hamish said.
“ too late for help now, my son,” his father replied, beginning to cough once more.
“Ye are strong, Father,” Hamish said.
“And ye must be strong now too, Hamish. Lead this clan and be worthy of the name MacBryde. I am finished now, a pitiful old man, dyin’ in his bed. ‘Tis up to ye to lead us, to make us strong again,” he said.
“Aye, Father, but …” Hamish began, but just then, his father let out a cry of pain, clutching at his chest as he fell back on the bed with a final gasp.
“Hamish …” he rasped, his final words obscured by a splutter as he breathed his last.
Hamish stood up, stepping back and bowing his head. He crossed himself, offering up a silent prayer for his father’s soul. He called for the servants, who came running at once, crossing themselves as they entered the room and offering their condolences.
“Ye will wake Lady Isabella. She will wish to be informed,” Hamish said, and one of the servants hurried off to wake Hamish’s betrothed.
A few moments later, she appeared, wrapped in a shawl, and surveyed the scene before her with interest.
“So, your father was close to death. Closer than any of us imagined,” she said, with an air of detachment which Hamish found distasteful.
“Aye, and may the Lord now give rest to his soul,” he replied, she nodded.
“Then it seems we no longer have to marry here in this accursed place,” she said, smiling.
“My father is dead, Isabella,” Hamish said, astonished at her words and lack of sympathy.
“Yes, and that means that you are now Laird, Hamish. With rank and responsibility. You can no longer hide away or shirk from your duties. Your father always said that you were unfit to be Laird. Well, now is the time to prove him wrong. Goodnight,” she said, and turning from the room, she returned to her chambers.
Heartless woman, he said to himself, as the servants hurried around to make ready their master’s body.
“Are the clansmen to pay their respects here, Laird?” one of them asked, and Hamish nodded.
“Aye, see to it that a proclamation is made. The clan must know that their Laird is dead, and nay doubt very soon it will be common knowledge across the borders. I am Laird now, and there will soon be some changes made,” Hamish said, casting a final look at his father’s body lying upon the bed.
Changes, many changes, he said to himself, striding from the room, determined to be the Laird his father never was.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Caitlin looked at Evie in astonishment, and Evie shook her head, wondering if indeed she had made the right decision.
“A MacBryde? Hamish MacBryde? The Hamish MacBryde? Are out of yer mind, Evie?” Caitlin cried.
“Be quiet, Caitlin. Dae ye want the whole castle to hear ye. Aye, the Hamish MacBryde. The one whom everyone thinks is a wicked and twisted man, intent only upon our downfall. But it was he who rescued me from the stream on that day when I came to ye and yer mother. He could have left me for dead, but he didnae; he pulled me from the stream. I was scared of him at first, but there was nothin’ to fear,” Evie said as Caitlin shook her head in disbelief.
“But a MacBryde. Dae ye nae know what that means,” Caitlin said, and Evie nodded.
“It means that in yer eyes and the eyes of my parents, I have betrayed our cause, and I am a traitor. That is why I didnae want to tell ye, but ye promised I could trust ye, Caitlin. Dae ye intend to renege upon yer promise?” Evie said, fixing her friend with a hard stare.
“But ye cannae be serious, Evie. The MacBrydes are our enemies. They are allies of the Musgraves, and nay more wicked family is there on all the borders than the Musgraves. Ye are sidin’ with the devil himself,” Caitlin replied.
“But Hamish McBryde is nae devil. That auld alliance was made a generation ago, their quarrels are nae ours. He wants peace, he wants us to live in peace and for the divisions of the past to be forgotten and lain aside,” Evie said, but Caitlin shook her head.
“Once a MacBryde, always a MacBryde,” she said, repeating an oft-heard phrase from their childhood.
“We were always taught to believe that, Caitlin and I know ye have good reason to hate the MacBrydes but …” Evie began.
“Good reason? Aye, I have good reason. ‘Tis because of them that I grew up without my father and why my dear mother is a widow to this day,” Caitlin snapped, turning away from her.
“Dae ye nae believe in love, Caitlin? Dae ye nae think that a man and a woman can fall in love, despite the barriers between them? Dae ye think I can help who I fall in love with? I cannae dae so. He was kind to me, I wanted to thank him, and so I went to the castle of the MacBrydes to seek him out,” Evie said, and Caitlin shook her head in disbelief.
“Ye went there? Dae ye know how dangerous it is to go to such a place? Ye could have been killed or held prisoner. Dae ye nae remember what yer poor mother went through when she was held captive by the Musgraves herself? They are wicked people, Evie… wicked to their core. Ye were lucky to have escaped with yer life. What foolishness is this, what nonsense has poisoned yer mind?”
“Nay nonsense, Caitlin. My mind is quite clear, in Hamish MacBryde I have seen a man quite different to that which we were told of as children. He is nae the wicked MacBryde of bairn’s tales, he is a kind and gentle man who wants only peace,” Evie replied, but Caitlin shook her head in disbelief and scowled at Evie.
“Ye shouldnae have told me this, Evie,” she said.
“And why nae? Ye are my closest friend, or so ye have claimed. Was I wrong to confide in ye?” Evie said, now regretting her decision to tell Caitlin the truth.
I should have kept this whole affair to myself, kept it secret, she told herself.
“And what dae ye propose now, Evie? Dae ye intend to see him again? Was that where ye were today? Meetin’ this traitor behind all our backs,” Caitlin said, and Evie nodded.
There was no point in lying to Caitlin now, she knew the truth, and it seemed that the truth had been impossible for her to accept. Her mind was so closed, so hostile to any thought of the MacBrydes that any mention of them could only elicit hostility. Caitlin would never accept the idea of Hamish as anything other than an enemy, however much he proved himself to be otherwise.
“Promise ye will keep my secret, Caitlin? I told ye this in confidence; I believed I could trust ye. Ye know that ye can trust me, but I must be certain I can trust ye,” Evie said.
Caitlin paused for a moment. It was clear she was thinking through the implications of what this revelation meant. Would she betray Evie? Or would her secret be kept safe?
I was a fool to tell her this secret, Evie thought to herself, yet in revealing her true feelings for Hamish, she felt unburdened, as though she had somehow allowed her heart to open and the secrets of her soul to be laid bare. She had, but if this were the reaction from others, then she would be reluctant to do so again. Her love for Hamish would remain secre
t, a secret kept deep within her heart.
“But … is Hamish MacBryde nae betrothed to Isabella Musgrave?” Caitlin replied, not revealing whether Evie could trust her or not, “if the Musgraves discover if ye and him are …”
“Aye, that is right, there is a risk for us both. Isabella Musgrave is a cruel and jealous woman who would rather see Hamish dead than betray her. But I ask ye again, Caitlin, can ye nae understand love when ye hear of it? I will happily take the risk and so will Hamish, because we love one another and love goes beyond borders, beyond barriers. Love is more than all of that,” Evie replied.
“I cannae accept it, Evie,” Caitlin replied, shaking her head.
“Then what shall ye dae?” Evie replied, but Caitlin only turned away.
“Goodnight, Evie. I will leave early in the mornin’ at first light,” Caitlin replied, and she blew out the candle, plunging the room into darkness, except for the glowing embers of the fire.
I should have said nothin’ and kept this secret to myself, Caitlin said to herself.
She felt foolish for having trusted Caitlin. Would she now betray her? Or could their years of friendship be enough to keep her loyalty, despite the objections she so clearly had? Evie felt even more alone than ever, as though she were surrounded only by those hostile to her feelings.
I cannae help how I feel. I cannae turn off my feelin’ for Hamish simply because others believe it to be wrong. Love is love, she said to herself, closing her eyes as sleep came over her, I am right, I know I am right, and I will nae let anyone else tell me otherwise …
Chapter Twenty-Six
When Evie awoke the next morning, she found Caitlin gone. Had she run to tell her parents? Would Evie face their wrath when she appeared at breakfast, or would the loyal bonds of friendship have been preserved?
With a heavy heart, she dressed, glancing out of the window and down to the snowy courtyard below. Her Godfather was there, and Evie remembered that she would need to make the walk down to the village to collect the horse from the blacksmith if only to maintain the illusion of her deception.
But none of that would matter if Caitlin had gone crying to her parents. Evie made her way tentatively down to the Great Hall, where her mother was already sat at her spinning wheel. She glanced up and smiled at Evie, who breathed a sigh of relief at the evident fact that her mother knew nothing yet of her revelation to Caitlin in the night.
“Ye will go to collect the horse this mornin’ Evie?” her mother asked, returning her attention to her spinning.
“Aye, mother. I will go after breakfast. The snow is thick and shows nay sign of abatin’ yet,” Evie replied.
“We are set for a long hard winter, Evie. Yer father is concerned for the cattle, he worries they will nae survive the snow,” her mother said, just as her father entered the hall.
“Evie, the horse, ye must get the horse this mornin’ else it shall freeze down at the blacksmiths. He has never repaired the roof of his stables, nae since yer uncle and I were residents there,” her father said, and Evie smiled.
“Caitlin left early,” she said, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as possible, eager to see if either of them had seen anything of her friend.
Her father nodded, seemingly disinterested.
“Aye, she left early this mornin’ sayin’ that she must get back to her mother. The snows will be thick over the moorlands and the paths covered. She is best off gettin’ home,” her father replied, “And ye, Evie, need to get yerself away if ye are to collect the horses by dinner time.”
Evie nodded, thankful that it was now clear that Caitlin had mentioned nothing of their conversation to either her father or her mother.
She is more loyal than I believed her to be, she said to herself, a sense of her burden having been lightened.
She did not need Caitlin’s approval, only her promise of secrecy. Evie would see Hamish again, and she knew that in doing so, their relationship would deepen. She felt no sense of guilt now, no sense of betrayal or treachery.
I have done the right thing, she said to herself as she prepared to depart for Lochrutton and the blacksmith’s workshop.
Outside, her Godfather was shoveling snow from the courtyard, and it lay in drifts by the walls, a path to the gates from the stables now cleared. Her uncle would be at his early prayers, for he was as faithful away from the monastery as he was when present. Evie had always admired him for that, his utter devotion to the life he had chosen. Only her brothers and a few of her father’s soldiers were outside and, keeping warm by a little fire, and when Rory and Owen saw her, they nodded.
“Where is it ye go to, Evie?” Rory asked, stepping out from the circle of men and making his way over to her.
“To Lochrutton, to collect the horse. By any luck, the blacksmith will have shod him by the time I arrive, and I can return immediately,” she replied.
Rory nodded, though he eyed her with that all too familiar look of suspicion which had become his hallmark these past weeks. He would never trust her again, that was much was certain, not until she had proved her loyalty by some means or other.
But I have nay need of them, she said to herself.
“Mind ye come straight back,” he replied, and Evie scowled.
“Are ye my jailer now, Rory, as well as my brother?” she asked, and he shook his head.
“I am yer brother, I have responsibility for ye, Evie. We both dae,” Rory replied.
“But ‘tis Owen, who is to be Laird, Rory. Ye are only the second son, ye have nay responsibility toward me, let me be. I am only goin’ to the village to bring back the horse, surely I can be trusted to dae that,” she replied.
He scowled at her, for Rory did not like to be reminded of his place as the second son, nor did he like his presumed authority over her to be challenged. He had always been like this, an overbearing older brother and try as she might, Evie could not help but resent him.
All of them, she said to herself, as she made her way across the courtyard to where her Godfather was shoveling snow.
“Are ye away to bring back the horse, lass? Tell the blacksmith we shall come for him in a few days. This weather takes their shoes so easily, the poor beasts. Yer father’s horse will need seein’ to. More work for me,” Sweeney said, tutting and shaking his head.
His words came as a delight to Evie, though she tried her best to hide it. Instead, ye gave her Godfather a ponderous look, as though she weighed up some possibility or another.
“I could … take the horses if ye wishes. ‘Tis nay trouble, and I enjoy the walk across the moorlands, even in the snow. It would be a help to ye and give me somethin’ to dae on these cold, dark days,” Evie said, her tone sounding casual, as though it were a mere suggestion rather than the hope of her heart.
Sweeney looked at her oddly. Evie rarely volunteered for anything, yet here she was practically falling over herself to be of help. But he nodded and smiled, shaking his head and laughing to himself.
“’Tis quite the miracle to find ye so eager to be of assistance, lass. Ye may take the horses if ye wish, I have nay objection. ‘Tis a thankless task and one I should be glad to be rid of. Ye are welcome to it,” he replied.
“Oh … well, ‘Tis about time I became useful. The daughter of a Laird has little of use about her until she finds a husband, of course, and I will be glad to take the horses. Perhaps in two days,” she said, and he nodded.
“Aye, I shall have two that need shoddin’ then. Come and find me early in the mornin’ if I have nae seen ye before. Ye can take the horses and seem to some other errands too if ye are so keen to help,” her Godfather replied. Evie nodded enthusiastically, though checking herself at the excitement now rising within her.
It will be the simplest way to see Hamish. The simplest thing in the world, she thought to herself as she hurried through the castle gates and out onto the moors.
She suddenly felt a great sense of unburdening. There is much to be said for sharing the thoughts of one’s heart. Having
unburdened herself to Caitlin, and now discovering that she had kept her secret, Evie felt for the first time that her love for Hamish might prove to endure, albeit in secret. Perhaps, in the fullness of time, it could be revealed, but for now, she had found a solution to their desire to meet one another. The horses would provide a regular excuse for her to make her way to Lochrutton and a reason as to her absence for the day.
As she walked along the snow-covered track, she pictured the two of them meeting secretly by the stream. As the seasons changed, their love would grow so that, by the spring, it would surely have blossomed into something so wonderful, so delightful that no one could deny its sincerity. She had every intention of being honest with her family, in the end, at least. But for now, Evie could be content with finding delight in her secret union, a union which had already brought her such joy and hope.