It was done. And while I knew I’d made the right decision, it had cost me the best mom in the world.
I was unsure of how long I sat there, staring blankly at the wall, feeling oddly cold and hollow. I’d been shattered when my father had been killed in a boating accident. Losing someone so suddenly wraps you in a sort of black shock that takes years to shake off.
Somehow, this seemed harder. It was just as sudden a break, and the knowledge that she was alive and well and would go on living and sharing her fun, witty, and wild self for the world to see, but not for me to get to witness, left me feeling utterly lost.
The hand that touched my shoulder was my anchor, and I gladly turned into his embrace. He too understood the grief of loss, with his father’s death occurring shortly before my arrival. He didn’t ask what I’d been doing. He looked around at the tidy room and at the words on the page and silently sat down beside me, wrapping me in his arms.
He held me without saying a word, silently stroking my back, bending occasionally to plant a gentle kiss on the top of my head, letting me know that he was there for as long as I needed him.
Eventually I pulled away and managed a smile to reassure him that I wasn’t re-thinking my decision. He smiled back and reached for my hand.
“I know it may no be customary. My parents kept separate bedchambers throughout their marriage, but how would ye feel about moving into my bedchamber? I doona like the thought of ye being so far away. I want to fall asleep each night with ye next to me, wrapped in my arms.”
I stood and pulled him toward the doorway. “I would love to. I’d already asked Mary this morning if she would have someone move my belongings across the hall. In my time, it would be uncustomary for us not to share a room. Besides, I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Chapter 35
Kinnaird Castle
“What does the lad want with me?” Ramsay marched from his bedchamber, furious that someone would dare have the nerve to arrive unannounced.
“I doona know, sir. All he said was that he must see ye straight away. He had an item to give ye.”
“The damned fool had better be bringing me Eoin Conall’s head on a spike if he’s to wake me at this hour.” Ramsay burst through the doors of the study where the father of his two stable lads stood uncomfortably at the end of the room. “Well, what do ye possibly have that ye think is warranted to disturb me?”
“I…I met with the man ye sent to Conall Castle. He gave me this ring to give to ye. Said it’s the signet of the late Alasdair Conall, and he believed it could be of some use to ye since Eoin has asked that the MacChristy clan gather at the castle as well.”
“Give it to me.” Ramsay thrust his hand eagerly in the man’s direction. He knew he’d done right by sending the man. The lad was a quick thinker, and he’d just proven that he was worth more than Ramsay had previously expected. He studied the ring, recognizing Alasdair’s signet immediately. “Thank ye, lad. Now, get out.”
The man’s face dropped, obviously disappointed at a lack of reward, but he retreated quickly, leaving Ramsay alone with one of his messengers in the study.
“Dress in the colors of the Conalls and take this ring to MacChristy Castle at once. Doona give this ring to anyone but Donal, do ye understand? Ye will have no trouble gaining an audience. Donal will welcome any Conall. Once ye have given him the ring, tell him that Eoin no longer requires his men or his presence for the battle. The situation has been taken care of, and there is no going to be an attack.”
“Aye. O’ course, sir.”
With one less clan to worry about, Ramsay was certain his plan to annihilate the Conalls would succeed. In three days’ time, he would gather his men and everyone at the castle. Together they would march to the aide of the Conalls, gladly assisting them in their bloody deaths.
*
Conall Castle
“I assure ye, lad, I’m in no hurry. I’ll gladly spend as many nights down here with ye as ye wish. But we willna be leaving until ye tell me what it was that ye gave to the stranger in town and where ye got it from.” Arran threw a fist into the stomach of the man who was now strung up by both wrists in the center of the dungeon.
The runaway groaned painfully as one of his ribs snapped at the impact of Arran’s fist. “I already told ye. The man was my uncle, and I was only returning an item I borrowed from him.”
“Ye lie. The man was no old enough to be yer uncle, and ye had no such item when ye arrived here.”
“I did so. I keep it in my bag. Ye dinna search me when I arrived. I’ve had it with me all along.”
Arran thrust another fist forward, this time hitting the man’s other side. “What was the item ye borrowed from him?”