Read Highland Angels (Fated Hearts Book 3) Online
Authors: Ceci Giltenan
A hot blush rose on Anna’s cheeks. “Laird, I…”
Andrew put one finger to her lips. “Anna just had to help me
recognize a minor error in judgement
.”
“And did ye?” his father demanded.
“Aye, Da. I did.”
“Good. See that it doesn’t happen again.”
“I will.”
His father harrumphed. “I believe ye, thousands wouldn’t.”
~ * ~
From the moment Anna had arrived at Curacridhe, her first thought on waking was some version of,
I miss home
. Even as she had worked to fit in and find happiness, she couldn’t quite suppress her longing for Naomh-dùn. However, when she woke the next morning, she was happy and content. Her first thoughts were of Andrew and Davy and the things that needed to be accomplished that day.
She was looking forward to her brothers arriving for the wedding, but not simply because she had missed them. Now she was excited to show them her home and help them see the MacLeods as she did.
When she entered the great hall for breakfast, Andrew looked up from where he sat and gave her a smile, so filled with love and adoration, it made her knees go weak.
He didn’t wait for her to reach the table but met her halfway, caught her in his arms, spun her around and kissed her full on the lips. If there had ever been any question whether the MacLeods were happy with this union it was laid to rest that morning. The cheer was deafening.
When he broke the kiss, he looked around at his obviously happy clan before asking quietly, “Ye haven’t changed yer mind about the abbey have ye? I don’t think I could face them. They love ye almost as much as I do.”
“Nay, I haven’t changed my mind.”
Anna firmly believed that happiness was a choice, but this morning she had to admit, it was a much easier choice when wonderful things happened.
Ten days after the messenger arrived from Lewis with news of Laird Morrison’s illness, another arrived during the midday meal.
“Laird MacLeod, I fear I bear sad tidings. Laird Tyree Morrison suffered another apoplexy yesterday, which took his life. God rest his soul.”
Laird MacLeod made the sign of the cross. “God rest his soul. He was a good man and will be missed. I’m certain his sons are grieving. We think very highly of Darach and have missed him these last days.”
“The requiem Mass will be three days hence, Laird.”
Dougal rubbed his forehead. “Under other circumstances, I would want to be there myself with the lad. However, my oldest son’s wedding will be held on the Feast of St. Mark, but ten days away. I am expecting allies from all over the Highlands to begin arriving soon. I cannot leave.”
The messenger nodded. “I understand, laird, and will offer yer regrets to the family on my return.”
“Nay, lad, ye misunderstand. I cannot go myself, but, I look upon Darach as a member of my family. My son, Graham, will represent me. He’ll leave for Lewis today with a contingent of men—Darach’s comrades—to pay our respects and offer any assistance which may be needed.”
Graham nodded and rose from the table. “I will make preparations immediately. If we leave this afternoon, we can sail on the morning tide and reach Castle Morrison tomorrow afternoon.”
~ * ~
Darach had done what was asked of him. He stayed and attended his father faithfully. After his discussion with Coll the night he arrived, Darach never revealed the deep hurt he felt to anyone else. His father seemed grateful and truly happy that Darach was home. When the second apoplexy claimed Tyree Morrison’s life, Darach was saddened as one would be to lose an acquaintance, but he was not grief-stricken.
Although it was rare for clans from the mainland to send representatives to a funeral on the island, Darach was beyond pleased when Graham arrived along with several guardsmen and men-at-arms. To Darach, these men felt like brothers. Graham greeted him more warmly than Fearchar had.
“Da sends ye his deepest condolences. He would have come himself, but Andrew’s wedding is a little over a week away.”
“Aye, Graham. I know that. I’m just glad ye could come.”
Having Graham and the other MacLeod guards there was a blessing Darach hadn’t expected, and it made the whole ordeal tolerable.
The day after the funeral, during the evening meal, Graham said, “Darach, we’ll be leaving at high tide tomorrow morning. Ye can travel with us or come later, if ye wish.”
“I’d like—”
“He won’t be returning to Curacridhe,” said Fearchar.
Graham looked from Darach to Fearchar and back. “He hasn’t finished his training.”
“Nay, I haven’t,” said Darach.
“He belongs here. He’ll finish his training here,” said Fearchar flatly.
“Fearchar, perhaps it would be prudent to let him go back for a while at least,” said Coll. “This has been a shock for all of us. He can return at the end of the summer.”
“I don’t want to stay now and I don’t want to come back at the end of the summer.”
Fearchar rose to his feet, growling. “I don’t care what ye want. I’m yer laird now and I said ye’re staying here.”
Darach rose to his feet as well. “Ye aren’t my laird yet. I’ve not sworn fealty to ye.”
“Is that the kind of disrespect the MacLeods are teaching ye? It was yer Da’s dying wish that ye stay here.”
Coll inserted himself into the argument. “That’s enough. It was certainly not Da’s dying wish for the two of ye to go at it like this, or for ye to insult the MacLeods, Fearchar.” To Graham he said, “My apologies, Graham. I’m sure ye understand the last few days have been trying ones.”
Graham nodded, but said nothing.
Darach knew he needed to tread carefully here. “Fearchar, the MacLeods are our allies.”
“Then they will understand that things have changed.”
Again Coll interjected, “Fearchar, Darach, let’s give it a little time. Graham, we appreciate yer willingness for Darach to accompany ye back. However, perhaps it’s better if he stays here for a while until we’ve the opportunity to make some decisions.”
Fearchar grunted and emptied his tankard. Darach was prepared to argue but Graham caught his eye and shook his head ever so slightly.
Then Graham stared at both of Darach’s brothers. “The MacLeods would like to maintain an alliance with yer clan. We very much hope ye feel the same way and that ye will send Darach back to Curacridhe to finish his training.”
Graham’s voice was unemotional, even genial, but Darach understood the underlying threat.
If ye do not allow Darach to return, our formal alliance is over
. Darach hoped that would be enough to change his brothers’ minds.
~ * ~
Later that night, Fearchar jumped from his bed, burning with fury. “Get out, wench.”
“I’m sorry, Laird. I know ye’re virile. Maybe if I—”
“I said get out. I’ll take a strap to ye if ye don’t leave this instant. And if ye utter a word of this to anyone, I’ll have ye beaten for lying.”
The wench grabbed her clothes and was out the door before she pulled them on.
This is their fault, ye know. The MacLeods. Ye wouldn’t have this problem with yer intended bride.
“Aye. Their fault.”
They have no respect for ye at all. As if stealing yer bride wasn’t enough, MacLeod insulted ye by sending his youngest son.
“Insulted me.”
He would have come himself—if he didn’t have wedding guests arriving for a wedding to yer woman.
“It’s not fair.”
Andrew MacLeod doesn’t deserve her.
“Nay he doesn’t. She should’ve been mine.”
Then do something about it.
~ * ~
Darach rose early to see Graham and the MacLeod guardsmen off. Coll too was present to say farewell. Fearchar showed no such respect for the rules of hospitality.
“Graham, thank ye for coming. I know having close friends here helped Darach during this time of mourning,” said Coll.
“He is a fine young man. I do hope Fearchar changes his mind about allowing him to return to Curacridhe. I still firmly believe it is in the best interest of both our clans.”
“This was what our father requested, but I will discuss it again with Fearchar to see if some arrangement can be made.”
Darach found it hard to be as diplomatic as Coll. “I’m sorry, Coll, I suppose I understand why Da wanted me to come home and stay while he still lived. I cannot see why he would insist I stay after his death.”
“I know ye can’t, but I suspect Da wanted to bring his sons together. We have seen little of each other over the last few years, and with him gone, he wants us to lead the clan together. Still we value the alliance with the MacLeods. I’m sure we can come to some agreement soon.”
“I hope so,” said Graham. “Darach will be missed.”
Darach didn’t believe Coll’s answer. The three of them certainly were not going to lead the clan. Fearchar was going to do it alone. Coll would do his best to prevent financial ruin. Darach had no role at all.
After the MacLeods had ridden out of sight, Darach turned to Coll. “Why did ye tell him that?”
“Because I do hope we can convince Fearchar to let ye return briefly. I don’t want MacLeod to see this as an insult. We need to maintain that alliance.”
“That’s not what I meant. Why did ye say Da wanted us to lead together? Fearchar has made it very clear who leads this clan.”
“And do ye think Fearchar will be a good leader?”
“Nay, I don’t, and neither do ye, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is laird now.”
“Darach, Da knew the skills Fearchar lacked too. He did want both of us to stay for that reason. He had seen enough of Fearchar’s character to know he has the ability to ruin this clan. Da hoped we could become the tempering influence that he had been over the last few years.”
“He was the laird and I believe that is the only reason he could exert any control over Fearchar. Da was daft if he thinks we’ll be able to do anything now that Fearchar is laird.”
“Not daft, brother, hopeful. And the only sure way to fail is not to try.”
“Well then, I am going to try to convince Fearchar to let me go back.”
Darach tried to raise the subject several times that day—unsuccessfully. He understood why Coll wanted him to stay, or at least to return soon, but he could see no good reason why Fearchar had dug in his heels.
During the evening meal, Darach tried a new argument. “But Fearchar, Andrew’s wedding is just days away.”
“How does that concern ye?”
“I want to go. It’ll be a huge celebration. The feud is ending with the MacKays.”
“Aye, because they kidnapped that poor wee thing.” Somehow there was a light in Fearchar’s eyes that belied the sympathy in his words.
Darach shook his head. “Ye needn’t worry about her. She’s quite a bold lass.” He smiled. “She can hold her own with Andrew, and she’s been very good for Mairi too.”
“Why do ye care about that?” asked Fearchar, a note of suspicion in his tone.
“I like Mairi, she’s my friend and it’s good to see her happy.” Darach wanted to add that she was like a sister, but feared it might cause the topic of Clair to come up.
“And Anna? Do ye like her too?”
Darach couldn’t help but smile. “Aye. She’s a nice lass. She’ll be a good wife to Andrew.”
“Is she pretty?”
“I suppose she is. I hadn’t thought about her like that. Aye, she’s very pretty.”
As they talked Darach thought maybe Fearchar was softening. “I’d really like to go back, at least for the wedding.” Once there Darach was certain he would be able to find a way to stay.
“I said nay, Darach. I don’t want to hear anymore. Ye’ll stay here.”
Darach let the conversation drop, but Coll took it up the next day. Even though Coll wanted Darach to stay, clearly he hadn’t missed Graham’s veiled warning, because he also tried to make Fearchar heed it. “Fearchar, the sad truth is, the MacLeods don’t need us as allies and never did. Da needed them, he needed to ensure that we had unfettered access to their ports.”
“I’m laird now and I will not dance to MacLeod’s tune. I’ll manage this clan my way.”
Sadly, Darach knew that was the truth.
Coll shook his head. “I’m not suggesting that ye have to lay down like a whipped dog, but simply yanking Darach home, with no explanation and no attempt to appease them will be seen as an insult. Insulting the MacLeods is not in our best interests.”
“Then what do ye suggest, Coll?”
“Allow me to go with Darach to Curacridhe and discuss the alliance. Perhaps we can agree for Darach to stay with them a few more months before coming home.”
“Go
with
Darach to Curacridhe? Now there’s an idea we should consider.”
Coll looked immensely relieved until Fearchar said, “But I believe I shall go. I need ye to stay here and collect the rents. After all, the feast of St. Mark is only a few days away.”
“The feast of St. Mark is the day of Andrew’s wedding to Anna MacKay. It would not be a good time to arrive, unexpected, in order to discuss an alliance,” said Coll.
“We aren’t unexpected. At least Darach isn’t. He’s gone on and on about the wedding and nagged me like an old woman. Ye do still want to attend the wedding don’t ye, Darach?”
“Aye, Fearchar, but—”
“There is no ‘but.’ Laird MacLeod’s esteemed representative,
his youngest son
, clearly said the MacLeods hope I’ll send Darach back to Curacridhe to finish his training. They surely won’t object if I join him on the journey. And since Andrew MacLeod is marrying
my
intended, it seems only right that I should be there.”
Darach’s brow furrowed. “Yer intended? I don’t understand.”
Coll explained, “In February Da sent a message to Eoin MacKay, seeking a betrothal between Fearchar and Anna.”
“Aye, and the MacLeods captured her before the papers could be signed. She would have been my betrothed had they not interfered.”
“Fearchar, ye don’t know that,” said Coll. “Laird MacKay never responded to Da’s request.”
“Only because Anna was kidnapped before he could. He would have agreed.”
Coll shook his head in frustration. “Frankly, I doubt it. In early December, Laird Macaulay sought a betrothal for Bennett with Anna. Eoin declined that one because he didn’t want to send Anna to Lewis.”
“I’m not Bennett Macauley. Eoin wouldn’t have refused me.”
Fearchar’s cockiness knew no bounds. Darach believed Coll was right that Laird MacKay would not have agreed to the betrothal Da had proposed, but Fearchar was too arrogant to accept that. Darach also worried that if Fearchar was at Curacridhe for the wedding, he might cause trouble. He and Coll tried to reason with him, but it became clear that this had been Fearchar’s plan all along and there was no talking him out of it. The best Darach could hope to do was warn Laird MacLeod and hopefully limit the damage.