Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I t was a gloomy day, thick clouds looming ahead, a storm quickly approaching. Evan looked up at the darkening sky, glad that his men had spotted a carriage heading their way from down the valley.

It meant Cathleen and Macauley would arrive before the storm caught up to them, hopefully. They ran little risk of getting soaked in the rain.

Next to him in the courtyard stood Alaric and Isabeau, the three of them standing close to the castle doors while Bonnie paced back and forth farther down, close to the gates as she waited for her sister to arrive. Ever since they had received word of the carriage's approach, she had been outside, waiting to greet Cathleen, getting more restless by the minute.

Evan got restless too just by watching her.

"What is troublin' ye?" Isabeau asked, perceptive as always. Could it be she had spoken to Bonnie about this? In the short time they had spent in Castle MacGregor, the two girls had become fast friends, Evan knew. He often saw them together around the castle, walking arm in arm, engaged in deep conversation.

"Ye ken what is troublin' me," he said, figuring he didn't need to explain any of it to Isabeau. If she hadn't talked to Bonnie, then she had certainly talked to Alaric. "But let us nae discuss it now."

For a few moments, Isabeau remained silent, but Evan could feel her gaze boring holes into him, his sister shifting her weight from foot to foot restlessly, in the way she always did when she had more to say. There was no avoiding this conversation, he knew, even when they were all standing in the middle of the courtyard.

"I think we should discuss it now," she said eventually and Evan couldn't stop the sigh that escaped him.

He turned to face her fully, lips stretched in a thin line. "What is there tae discuss?" he asked quietly, making sure Bonnie wouldn't hear him, even though she stood too far for his words to carry over to her. "Ye ken how it is. Ye ken what the council has said, dinnae ye?"

"I've heard," admitted Isabeau with a small shrug. "But yer council is there tae counsel ye, nae tae make decisions fer ye."

"Padraig—"

"Padraig is worried," Alaric said, interrupting Evan before he could finish. "An' his concern is makin' him overly cautious. He is truly doin' what he thinks is best fer the clan, but there is nae point talkin' about what is best fer the clan if we dinnae consider what is best fer ye. We need ye tae be as strong as ye can be."

"Dae ye truly think I will let romance cloud me judgement?" Evan asked, offended at the mere suggestion. "I will always dae what is best for the clan, even if I dinnae like it."

"It already is," said Isabeau calmly. In moments like this, she reminded Evan terribly of their mother—her quietly commanding nature, the way she could sway a crowd with just a word. "I heard ye will refuse tae wed the Lady Buchanan."

So, she has been talkin' tae Bonnie.

"Aye," said Evan. There was no point in hiding it now. Alaric didn't look surprised, either, though perhaps that was because he was there at the meeting when Evan had argued endlessly with the council. "That is the plan."

"Then yer judgement is already clouded," she said. "But yer happiness matters, too, Evan. An' we want tae see ye happy."

"We'll deal with Ruthven," Alaric was quick to assure him, before Evan could protest. "We were always goin' tae be his enemies. We made that choice when we decided tae stop him an' Baliol. If anythin', ye'll stop him from gettin' the resources he needs if ye wed Bonnie. Padraig wishes tae take the conservative approach, but when have we done things that way?"

Alaric, Evan thought, had a point, but how could a laird go against his entire council and keep their trust? How could he defy them all and still have them wish to serve him?

Before any of them could say anything else, the gates opened and the guards announced the arrival of Macauley and Cathleen as their carriage rolled into the courtyard. Evan watched as Bonnie rushed to them, falling into her sister's arms the moment she was out of the door.

"Come," said Isabeau, putting a hand on Evan's shoulder as the three of them walked over to the carriage. It was the first time Evan was seeing either of them, and upon first look, he had to suppress a small laugh.

While Bonnie and Cathleen looked only vaguely alike, sharing their delicate features and long, brown hair but little else, he and Macauley could have been long lost brothers. He, too, was a large man, towering over everyone else around him, with dark hair and eyes that made him seem right at home in Clan MacGregor.

"Laird MacLaren, Lady MacLaren," Evan said in greeting as he bowed to them. "Welcome. I hope yer travels were pleasant."

"Laird MacGregor," said Macauley with a bow of his own, Cathleen mirroring him. "Thank ye fer receivin' us. But I dinnae think there is any need tae be so formal with each other. Any friend o' Bonnie is our friend, as well."

"I agree," said Evan, his shoulders relaxing a little. He was not yet used to all the formalities that came with his title. "This is me sister, Isabeau, an' me brother, Alaric. Let us head inside afore the storm comes."

Leading the way, Evan guided everyone into the drawing room, where the servants were already laying out a spread of food and tea. As they all sat on the couches, only one remained standing: Bonnie, who was still pacing back and forth as though she couldn't help it.

Evan didn't have the chance to ask her what was wrong. Just as Cathleen had taken her seat, Bonnie spilled everything.

"I helped Evan an' Alaric find proof against Ruthven that he is workin' with Baliol an' the King," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth so fast that Evan had to concentrate to understand her. "An' now Ruthven is very angry with me, with us, an' I am quite certain those men who attacked us were sent by him an' he willnae stop until we are all dead."

The five of them stared at Bonnie, stunned into silence. After a few moments, it was Cathleen who spoke first, her tone soft and gentle.

"Alright," she said, standing to wrap an arm around Bonnie's shoulder and bring her to the seat next to her. Even when they sat, she didn't let go of Bonnie. "We have been through worse. We can . . . we can get through this, Bonnie. I promise."

Evan had not once seen Bonnie tremble in fear, and she didn't tremble now. Her foot, though, tapped incessantly against the floor and she wrung her fingers with such force that he could only imagine it was painful.

"Proof?" Macauley asked. "What proof did ye find?"

"A letter," Evan said. "Alaric copied it an' distributed it tae our neighbourin' clans. It proves that Ruthven an' Baliol are workin' together."

"Here," Alaric said, puling one of the copies from his pocket and handing it to Macauley. The other man red it quickly, eyes skimming over the words, before he shook his head.

"It is proof," he said. "But a copied letter . . . I dinnae think it will be enough. We must find somethin' more. People can say it is forged. Ruthven himself can say it is forged."

"Aye, we thought o' that," said Evan. "But we had nae other choice. We thought we would have a chance to steal the original if they didnae believe us, but now . . . I suppose we will never make it back intae Castle Ruthven."

But they couldn't have stayed there. That attack had rattled Evan and Bonnie still bore the consequences of it.

"We will write tae Kian an' Deirdre," said Macauley. "Laird Drummond, he is me good friend. He will help us."

"An' we will write tae . . . anyone we can," Evan said with a firm nod. It was all they could do for now, as they waited to see how Ruthven and Ball would act.

"Me laird, if I may."

Evan turned to see one of the messengers at the door and beckoned him closer, a weary sigh escaping him before he had even received the note. He didn't need to read it to know that whatever it was, it couldn't possibly be good. It had been a long while since something good had happened.

The note was from his scouts, informing him that Ruthven's men had been spotted near the clan borders. So, Ruthven had sent men after them, Evan thought, and he was most certainly preparing for an attack. Whatever it was they were going to do to defeat him, they had to do it fast.

"What is it?" Alaric asked, glancing over his shoulder. With vicious strength, Evan crumbled the paper in his fist.

"War."

Ever since his conversation with Isabeau and Alaric, Evan couldn't get his mind off what they had told him. It didn't help, this looming threat over his head that was Ruthven and his forces, even now scouting his lands to find the best way to attack.

What am I doin'? I could end up in the ground an' Bonnie would never ken how much I love her.

What was the point of any of this—being the laird, fighting against the English, seeking victory after victory—if he couldn't be a decent man to Bonnie? He had been so selfish with her. He had acted on his desires and then hidden behind the words of his council like a coward, leaving her to wonder if what they had was even real.

He had caused enough damage already. All he could do now was try to fix it and pray that Bonnie would still forgive him for everything he had done.

I must find Cathleen.

In the two days that had passed since her arrival, Evan had been avoiding her, worried of what she would think of him. Bonnie had surely told her sister everything, and he didn't want Cathleen to think he was toying with her, giving her empty promises. But now it was time to seek her out and talk to her, as he had finally made up his mind.

Pushing himself off his chair, Evan rushed out of his study and asked every guard and servant in his way if they had spotted her. It was only when he reached the ground floor that one of the guards directed him to the library, where he had last seen them.

Even better. I can speak with both o' them.

The storms of the previous days had passed and now the sky was clear outside the windows as Evan ran to the library, finding Macauley and Cathleen there just as the guard had said. Macauley leaned against a large chair as Cathleen browsed the books, crouching down to look at the ones on the lowest shelves.

Macauley spotted him first, smiling as Evan approached. "Good mornin'," said Macauley, but then frowned, perhaps spotting the flush on Evan's cheeks, the thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead. "Is somethin' wrong?"

"Nay, nay," Evan assured him, waving a hand dismissively. "I merely wished tae speak with the two o' ye."

Cathleen straightened, smoothing her hands over her green dress that seemed to make her eyes sparkle an even deeper green. "What is it?" she asked. "Is it about me sister?"

"Aye," said Evan, but then Cathleen looked at him, alarmed, her eyes wide with fear. "Ach, nay . . . I mean, it is about Bonnie, but it isnae a bad thing. I hope."

Cathleen frowned in confusion, but then she and Macauley looked at Evan expectantly, waiting to see what he had to say. It was then that he realized he had no idea how to approach the subject.

Better to get it over with, he thought.

"I wish tae wed yer sister," he said. "Me council, they dinnae want this marriage, but I love Bonnie. I love her. I dinnae care what me council says or if they approve. I have already caused Bonnie too much pain an' I never wish tae hurt her again. I'll spend me whole life makin' her happy, Cathleen. I swear it."

For a few moments, neither Cathleen nor Macauley spoke and Evan feared he had said something wrong or that perhaps after everything he had done to Bonnie, Cathleen didn't want him anywhere near her. But then, before he could question her reaction, she grinned and grabbed his shoulder, patting it with a surprising amount of force for such a small woman.

"Ye have me blessin'," she said. "I'm sure Bonnie will be very happy tae hear this."

It took Evan several seconds for his mind to catch up with the fact that he had Cathleen's permission. A relieved laugh escaped him and he laid his hand over his chest, trying to calm his racing heart.

It was as though he was a boy again, preparing to speak to his first infatuation for the first time. It was strange, he thought, how love could reduce him to such a babbling, nervous mess.

"Dinnae waste any more time," Macauley said, nodding towards the door. "Go. Find her."

Grinning from ear to ear, Evan nodded, turning on his heel. Macauley was right; he shouldn't waste any more time.

Rushing through the castle, Evan spilled out into the courtyard and hurried to the gardens. Just as he reached them, though, he came to a sudden halt at the sight in front of him—Bonnie, standing over a rosebush, her hand cradling one of the flowers as she took in its fragrance, the morning sun bathing her in golden light, the scene like a portrait painted by a loving hand.