“’Tis already finished. We leave as soon as ye and Callum come bid us farewell.”
They stepped outside, each pulling their coats a little tighter as they walked. The morning held a bittersweet edge. Adwen hated to say goodbye to his father and youngest brother. Most likely, it would be years before they would be together again—their travels would be long and their destinations far away from Scotland.
But in spite of his sadness at their departure, he found himself relieved that they would be gone when his guests arrived. At least with his father away, he would be able to fulfill his duties without the worry that every decision was met with disapproval. He would be free to do as he pleased, and his first order would be to prepare the castle for his guests.
He couldn’t heal Isobel’s sickness, but perhaps he could bring a little joy to her heart. Willing men and women stood at the ready, prepared to start work as soon as his father and brother departed.
At the stables, his father and Callum stood close together in conversation. Adwen stood back, allowing them their goodbyes. It would be the first time they’d not all journeyed together, and Adwen knew the separation would take its toll on all of them.
Adwen faced Griffith and threw his arms around his youngest brother. “Ye will be a man the next time I see ye. Be sure to grow into a fine one, better than me. Become a man like Callum.”
Griffith stepped away, his features giving nothing away. “Ye are a better man than ye know, Adwen. I know well enough that if ye’d truly wished it, ye could have found a way to win the wager. Thank ye for no doing so.”
Their father approached, giving Adwen no time to respond to his brother’s naivety. Griffith thought too highly of him; he’d truly tried everything to win the wager. The ache he felt at its loss still drummed deep inside him.
“I know that this is no the life ye saw for yerself, but ye will be a far better laird than I. ’Tis for that reason that I leave ye. Callum will do well by yer side.”
With that, his father turned and left him, Griffith following shortly behind.
Callum came to stand by his side. “He is no one for lengthy farewells.”
Adwen nodded in agreement. “Aye, Da doesna like to speak, farewell or no. If no for our mother, I doona think we would have spoken before the age of five.”
Callum laughed, pointing in the direction of the castle. “When do yer guests arrive?”
“In three days time. Orick has gone to accompany them on their journey.”
“’Twill be nice to have lassies around. Too long has passed since we had a home to host guests.”
“Aye.” The next three days would pass at an immeasurably slow pace for Adwen. He couldn’t sleep, the anticipation building for their arrival with each passing second. He hoped Isobel would fare the journey well and that she’d been successful in convincing Jane to join them.
“Ye must be mad for the lass to go to such great lengths to get her here.”
Adwen was, but not for the lass Callum assumed. “The lass for whom I go to such lengths is married, but there is none so deserving as she for the gift I’ve given her.”
“Ah, then ’tis another lass. For I know one occupies yer mind. There has no been a lass in or out of the castle since ye arrived home. Either ye are sick or ye have taken a liking to someone verra special indeed. Ye doona look ill.”
Frustration built as it always did when he thought of Jane. Feelings didn’t suit him. And every time he thought of Jane, he felt a million things at once.
“I am no ill, and nothing occupies my mind. Nothing ever does.” He paused and shook his head, hearing how his words sounded as Callum laughed.
“Look at ye. She occupies yer mind so much that ye canna speak without calling yerself a silly fool. Tell me, who is she and will she be accompanying the others?”
Adwen held back the growl that seemed to form in the back of his throat. Callum was right—she’d filled his mind far too much over the past days. Only one thing would rid her from it. He took off at a fast stride toward the stables.
“Where are ye going, Adwen?”
He yelled back in his brother’s direction. “To the village—there are many lassies there I have yet to bed.”
CHAPTER 14
The Last Day on the Road
February 1649
A fortnight passed between the day Isobel shared her intentions to travel to Cagair Castle and the morning we departed. At first, I refused her request to join them, but Isobel, sweet as she may appear, knew how to play dirty.