Chapter 23

23

M urdoch could see the shock in her face as he spoke. Shock and betrayal. For a moment his will wavered, but he stiffened his resolve.

He wasn't surprised, however, when she regained her composure a moment later. "Ye cannae mean that."

"I can, and I do. Havin' ye here was a mistake. Tomorrow mornin' ye'll go home. That's me final word on the matter."

"Why?" Shock gave way to anger and indignation. "Ye think I'll be in danger if I stay? That I might get killed?" Her eyes glittered with determination. "Tis nae as if I'm helpless. I'm stronger than I look. I also have Hector and I can use a bow and arrow. Isobel taught me, so I'm a fair good shot, ye ken?"

She looked so determined, like a kitten facing down a wild boar. It was endearing and heart-breaking. He knew all too well that a kitten could never survive such a confrontation.

Murdoch let his lip curl. "I daenae care if ye can defend yerself. I daenae want or need ye here. Tomorrow mornin' I expect ye to leave and if ye disobey I'll have ye thrown out by force."

He could see the tears of hurt shimmer in her eyes. For a moment he wanted to reach out and brush them away before kissing her and telling her he'd changed his mind.

With a curse, he turned and stalked away from her, his back rigid with anger and self-loathing.

Let her think I have disdain for her or am unwilling to tolerate her weakness. She will be safer if she departs in hurt and anger as a spurned lover, than remain here as a corpse in my castle.

Even if his decision led to war with Clan Clyde or to his removal from the lairdship, he would not waver.

If what he suspected was correct it was better this way. Lydia needed to be out of harm's way before he acted to confirm his suspicions.

In the meantime, he already knew he was never going to be able to sleep. I might as well get some work done. Murdoch made his way to the study, already planning his next steps. He had guards to talk to, plans to make, and arrangements to see to to make sure Lydia returned to Clyde Castle quickly and safely.

Plans and questioning didn't take long and Murdoch found himself in his study in the early hours of the morning, cursing that he hadn't managed to find more tasks to occupy his time.

Scowling, he went to a cabinet and pulled out a glass and a bottle of scotch. He cracked the seal and poured a generous measure into the glass.

Several candle-marks later the sun was rising over the garden and he'd refilled the glass three times to no avail. He was no closer to the bliss of drunken forgetfulness than he'd been before he'd begun.

Something large and furry came bouncing into view and Murdoch glared at it until it evolved into Hector, with Lydia trailing closely behind. Beside them stood the maid with Finn.

Lydia was probably saying goodbye to Finn. He supposed he couldn't expect her to leave before saying farewell. He wondered why Wilma wasn't with them. She usually took Finn for his breakfast.

His question was answered when the door to his study was flung open and Wilma stormed inside. "Murdoch, ye insufferable lout!"

Murdoch transferred his glare to his cousin. She threw him a contemptuous look and crossed her arms. "Have ye anything to say for yerself?"

"About what?"

Wilma scoffed. "I should have kent. Of course ye'd be an ass to the end." She glared at him for a moment longer. "If ye werenae me laird and cousin I'd nae bother tellin' ye, but as ye are me laird, ye should ken that I'm leavin'."

The words shocked him out of his sullen anger. "What?"

"I've decided to accompany Lydia to her home, since some heartless fool is throwing her out of the castle without even the courtesy of a few days to gather her things."

Lydia must have confided in Wilma. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask how she was or to try to explain his reasons for his decision. He wasn't sure which it would be, but it didn't matter. Wilma gave him no opportunity.

"Lydia said she could introduce me to her eldest sister Nora. She's a healer, ye ken. A skilled one, who can teach me a number of things. I'm lookin' forward to it."

Murdoch found himself unable to speak as her words raked over him like blades. Her eyes flickered over his face. "Ye look terrible, Murdoch." She sighed. "I only came to bid ye farewell, and to give ye a warnin'. Ye will regret yer course of action, sendin' Lydia away. Ye will realize soon enough that ye made a terrible mistake. But from the look of ye, ye willnae realize the truth until tis too late and ye've lost the most important thing in yer life."

Murdoch was still trying to figure out a response to her words when the door slammed behind her and he winced.

He was finishing his scotch and contemplating another when the door opened again to admit his uncle. "Murdoch, I heard ye're sendin' the lass from Clyde Clan back home."

"Aye." The word was bitter in his mouth.

Uncle Arthur's face formed an expression of sympathy and understanding as he came around the desk to clap Murdoch on the shoulder. "Tis a shame that it dinnae work out, but nay one can fault yer effort. Still, with the unrest from yesterday, I'm certain ye're doin' the proper thing."

"Aye." Murdoch set his glass down and sealed the bottle once again. Although he agreed with his uncle in words, he couldn't help the thought that lingered under the surface.

I'm doin' the right thing…but for whom?

Breakfast that morning was the most difficult meal she'd ever endured. It took everything Lydia had to make her way to the great hall. Still, if she was going to leave, she wasn't going to skulk away like a whipped pup or a thief in the night.

Murdoch wasn't there, which was a blessing. She hadn't expected Finn or Wilma to attend, not after last night, so she wasn't surprised to find herself eating with only Murdoch's cousin and uncle in attendance.

To her surprise, it was Gordon who spoke first. "Are ye all right, Miss Knox? Ye look unwell."

She swallowed a bit of tea and forced what she hoped was a pleasant expression to her face. "Tis nae much. However, if I could ask a favor of ye, could ye see that a carriage or cart is made ready for me?"

The cart she'd used to travel to Lochlann Castle had been taken back by Gareth a few days ago. That reminded her of another matter. "Also, if ye could spare me a guard or two to accompany me."

"Aye. I can manage that easily enough, even after yesterday." Gordon nodded. "But, if ye'll forgive me sayin', I daenae think it safe for ye to be traveling, so soon after an attack like the one yesterday."

"Aye. I would agree with ye, but it seems yer laird has another opinion." Lydia felt her lips twist in an effort to hold back tears. She was glad her voice managed to remain steady as she continued. "I was informed last night that he feels the betrothal was a mistake, and that I'm to vacate the castle directly after the morning meal, or be removed at sword-point."

It wasn't exactly what Murdoch had said, but she'd little interest in being fair to him, not after last night.

"I'm sorry, Miss Knox." Gordon sounded as if he meant it, which surprised her. "I ken that must have been difficult to hear, comin' after yesterday." A hand touched hers in a comforting gesture. "I'll have the carriage and guards ready within the candle-mark."

The younger Nairn rose and left the table, leaving Lydia with his father. After a moment, Arthur cleared his throat. "I apologize that me nephew is bein' so abrupt with ye. I daenae ken why he's changed his mind, but…I cannae say I think he's made the wrong decision."

The words stung, and Lydia looked up at him, a spark of anger taking the place of the coldness in her gut.

Arthur shook his head at her look. "Daenae take me words wrongly, Miss Knox. I'm sure ye're a bonny lass, but Murdoch…" He shook his head. "He's inclined to rush into things, and I fear he may have done ye both a disservice with his impulsiveness. Better to undo it now, than to risk makin' ye both more unhappy later."

He might be right, but Lydia felt her throat tighten at the implication that there was no way she and Murdoch could have been happy. She tried to swallow the last of her tea, then rose, the rest of her breakfast untouched. "If ye'll excuse me."

She hurried away from the table, vision blurry with tears that she refused to let fall. She kept walking until she reached the nursery.

To her relief, only the maid was there, along with Hector. Finn was also awake, his face messy with the remains of the porridge the maid had been attempting to feed him. He held out his hands with a smile as she entered. "Lyda!"

"Hello, me bonny lad. And how are ye this morn?"

Finn giggled. "Lyda! Hector!"

"Aye. I saw ye had Hector with ye. Were ye playing with him afore eating yer breakfast?"

"And determined to share, he was." The maid answered the question with a fond smile. "He's been in a good mood this morn."

"I'm glad to hear it." She smiled at the bairn and took up a soft cloth to wash his face. Once she was done, she stood and took the maid aside. "I'm sorry to say that he's like to be unhappy in the next few days. Laird Lochlann is sending meself and Hector home."

"I'm sorry to hear it me lady." The maid's eyes were sympathetic. "I'm sure the lad will miss ye both."

"And we'll miss him."

Lydia turned and brushed a hand across Finn's cheek, before pressing a kiss to his brow. "Fare ye well, Finn. I'll miss ye."

She turned away before her tears could escape, and tapped her leg to get Hector's attention. "Come Hector." The big dog rose and followed her, his tail low as if he too sensed and mourned their departure.

Back in her quarters Lydia looked at the assembled bags and travel chests piled near the door. It had taken her most of the night to pack her things, but in a way she was grateful for it. It had given her less time to think about the fact that Murdoch was sending her away.

It hurt. She'd finally found her answers and had begun to realize that she had feelings for the tall, taciturn laird who had claimed her as his bride. Now he was sending her away, as if the feelings that had been building between them meant nothing to him.

Worse, he didn't seem to care about her relationship with Finn or Wilma or anyone else. He'd all but dragged her to the castle, and now that she'd gotten to know and care about its people he was forcing her to leave most of them.

Wilma had come to check on her last night and found her crying while trying to pack her things. The young woman had been outraged on Lydia's behalf once she'd explained to her what had transpired.

She still wasn't sure how they'd gone from their teary conversation to Wilma deciding to accompany her home to meet Nora, but Murdoch's cousin would be coming with her when she departed. Lydia had no idea how long Wilma might stay, but knowing she wouldn't have to make the journey alone was comforting, nonetheless.

She'd already sent messages to her sisters informing them she would be returning. She hadn't had the heart to explain why and finished the letters with a simple ‘I will tell ye more when I see ye at our home of Clyde Castle'.

The problem was, she wasn't entirely sure what had happened or what was running through Murdoch's mind . Yes, the attack had been sudden and dangerous, but it wasn't as if such things were unknown amongst the clans her family controlled. She'd lived through far more difficult and dangerous situations.

Perhaps she was as inured to violence as Isobel and Nora, whose particular talents often saw them facing the aftershock of battle, but she wasn't some helpless bairn either. Before last night, she'd thought Murdoch could see that.

Lydia felt tears stinging her eyes and made an effort to shake them away. She couldn't afford to let herself think of such things. She needed to begin her journey before Murdoch fulfilled his promise to have her thrown out of his home by force.

She started to turn and call the servants when her eye fell on a book left lying on her bedside table. It was the one Murdoch had purchased for her. After everything that had happened, she'd all but forgotten about it.

Her hand traced the leather cover. She'd been so looking forward to reading it, but now just looking at it made her feel ill. She couldn't imagine reading the tome, knowing that every turn of the page would remind her of Murdoch and the events of the previous night.

After a moment she turned away and left the book on her bedside table. Murdoch had paid for it so one might argue it was his. She wouldn't have him accuse her of stealing something he'd spent good silver on. It was a pity such a priceless treasure wouldn't get the attention it deserved, but it was better than the possible alternatives.

She called the servants to collect the traveling chests and most of her packs, taking only one small pack that held two books and her cloak in case of rain. Then she whistled softly and called out "Hector."

The big dog, who'd been laying in front of the hearth, came up to stand beside her with a soft inquisitive whine. No doubt he'd picked up on her morose mood. His nose pressed against her hand as if consoling her. Lydia swallowed hard and patted his head in reassurance. "Come on, me fine lad, tis time to go home."

Out in the courtyard, Wilma was busily loading her own things into the carriage that she'd convinced the castle steward to give up for the trip. Lydia was grateful she'd managed to secure it, as traveling without it would have been lengthy and cumbersome.

Lydia greeted her with a strained smile as she approached.

"There ye are. I was beginnin' to worry about ye. Have ye said yer goodbyes?"

"Aye. I saw Finn this morn, and Hector and I both bid him farewell. I spoke to yer faither and brother at breakfast." Not that she'd had the appetite to stomach much of it.

"And Murdoch?"

The name was enough to almost overset her. Lydia clung desperately to the dignity and strength she'd developed from dealing with her own cousin years ago. "I havenae seen him, and I daenae care to. Nor do I think he has any interest in seeing me."

"Ye daenae ken that." Wilma looked at her, her expression gentle.

"If he cared, he wouldnae be sendin' me away in this manner, without even a word to plead me case. If he cared he would be here to see us off, nae hiding wherever he is."

"He's in his study, drinking like a fool."

"Then he can stay there, for all I care." Lydia bit her lip. "If he's nae goin' to apologize or explain or change his mind, then there's nothing I want to say to him, nor hear from him either."

"Tis fair. I cannae say I like it, but ye're correct that me cousin is acting a fool." Wilma sighed. "If that's the way of it, then best we get on the road. I've said me farewells already, and cook has packed us a basket for the noon meal, so the sooner we leave, the sooner ye'll be home, and I can meet the sister ye were tellin' me about."

Lydia nodded and forced herself to focus on the prospect of introducing Nora to Wilma. She was sure the two would get along quite well. Wilma shared Nora's passion for learning and healing, and she could imagine her sister would be glad to pass on all she'd learned, if only to have another healer in the region who could help lessen the burden of her duties.

As they clambered into the carriage, she saw Finn and his nurse emerge to see them off, followed by Wilma's father and brother. But though she searched doorways, shadows and windows of the castle, Lydia saw no sign of Murdoch.

He obviously had no intention of seeing them off. Lydia fought back tears of hurt and indignation. It was bad enough that he'd not even do her the courtesy of saying farewell, but she was furious that he had so utterly neglected to see his cousin on her way.

Ye've made yer choice, Murdoch Nairn. I hope tis one that makes ye happy.