Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They allowed her time to wash off and change into indoor clothing before she was taken along to the great hall, where her sisters were waiting. As she washed her face, Deirdre felt the water soaking away the excitement and adrenaline of her little adventure, leaving behind a cold, hard reality in its place.

It would be too reckless, she realized, to meet Ciaran. When she'd agreed and proposed a place to meet, she'd been caught up in the moment, in the fantasy tale that he'd been spinning for her. Yes, in her heart, she longed to go to him tomorrow, to see those stormy eyes again. Yes, she wanted more than anything to sip sweet wine by his side under that great oak, and perhaps allow him to come closer than simply touching her hair.

A brief daydream interrupted those thoughts, the image of that strong hand brushing her skin, of Ciaran moving closer, of him holding her, his lips finding her own…

She shook her head firmly, dismissing the fantasy. No . She could not, should not imagine such things. The reality of the situation was that she had foolishly put herself in great danger today, and she could not trust a man she had met so briefly. She would not go to him, no matter how much her body was urging her because, despite what her sisters thought, she wasn't stupid. The risk was too great.

That decided, she ignored the angry outcry in her heart and straightened up, ready to face her family. Only Diarmid waited outside of her room to escort her, and she went with him without complaint. He didn't talk—he was much quieter than Liam—but he did offer her an encouraging smile or two.

Well, good. Perhaps this was all for the best, really. After all, something good had come out of all this already, hadn't it? They had a prisoner now that they hadn't before. And perhaps, now that they would be alone, her sisters and brothers-in-law would finally listen to what she had to tell them about the Brennan clan and the plans she'd heard they'd been making.

She entered the great hall with a new surge of confidence, ready to apologize for her mistakes and move on to the next important part of their journey—using the assassin they'd successfully captured alive to take another step to ending all this. However, the scene that awaited her when she stepped inside shattered her confidence immediately.

James sat in the Laird's chair, Blair at his left and Lachlan to his right. To the other side of Lachlan sat Jocelyn, her eyebrows knotted together with some emotion that Deirdre knew she would rather not explore any deeper. Aoife was there too, sitting a little apart from both of them, carefully not making eye contact with anyone. Her cheeks were red and flushed, and, briefly, Deirdre wondered if she'd been crying.

All of them looked up as she entered, and while Lachlan just looked resigned and tired after already seeing her, and James's face shone with pure disappointment, her two oldest sisters wore identical expressions of pure fury. She couldn't remember ever seeing them so angry, and even though she'd been filled with confidence before, she quailed under the double power of that gaze.

"Have ye completely taken leave of yer senses?" Blair demanded almost immediately when the door closed behind Deirdre. "I gave ye a direct order only hours ago, and ye gave me yer word. What were ye thinkin'?"

"I—"

"She wasn't thinkin'," Jocelyn replied with acid in her tone. Jocelyn was usually much less direct and more soft-spoken than Blair when it came to things like this, but now the She-Wolf had apparently come to the forefront. "I'm beginnin' tae despair that she never will. Did ye not care, then, that we'd suffer for yer loss, Deirdre?"

"That's not why I?—"

"Furthermore, ye've stayed here all these years as privileged guests and family," James spoke up. His tone was more composed than the women, but it was clear he was also very angry in his own way. "How do ye think it looks tae me people that I, Laird of the entire clan, can't even control me sister-in-law who's still half a bairn?"

Deirdre narrowed her eyes and her hands clenched and unclenched. "I'm a grown woman!" she snapped. "Not a bairn tae be controlled. The sooner ye all start treatin' me like one?—"

"But ye've already proved ye can't be trusted," Lachlan said in a voice of icy calm. "How are yer sisters tae extend their faith tae ye if ye throw it back in their faces at every turn?"

The injustice of that bubbled up inside Deirdre so much it felt that it was burning her. "Am I tae be docile, then?" she snapped, allowing her outrage to color her own tone. "Am I tae behave perfectly?"

"If ye wish tae be treated as a woman rather than a girl—" Blair started.

"Ye were the same age as I am now when ye sought out the wise-woman and changed the course of our fates instead of just marryin' how ye were supposed tae," Deirdre countered. She nodded to Jocelyn. "And ye were the same age when ye took Aoife and me and fled Bram's castle without so much as a way tae defend yerself. Neither of ye can speak tae me about docility. "

"Those were entirely different situations," Jocelyn replied irritably. " Ye are safe and protected. Ye never…"

"And now, because of me, we have a way tae make sure we stay safe and protected!" Deirdre insisted. "That man ye captured is one of Bram's. We can question him, get answers frae him that we'd spend months or even years tryin' tae discover otherwise!"

"Dae ye really think meself and me men have no way of findin' information without ye puttin' yerself at risk?" James asked, shaking his head. "Dae ye think that a wee lassie gettin' herself near killed is the only way tae infiltrate an army?"

"I'm not a wee lassie!" Deirdre insisted, though she hated how it came out sounding like a whine. "Aoife is only two years me senior, and ye don't treat her as much like a child as ye do me. I…" She trailed off, looking toward the sister in question. "Why are ye so quiet?" It was really not like Aoife to keep silent, especially when she had the chance to scold Deirdre.

But Aoife just averted her gaze and didn't respond.

Blair explained, "Aoife shares some of the blame. She saw ye leavin' and chose tae delay instead of lettin' someone ken immediately. She kens how tae take responsibility when she makes mistakes."

"Ye could have been killed," Aoife said at last, her voice coming out in a low whisper. She had been crying, and it sounded like she might again very soon. "And it would have been me own fault as much as yers. More, even. I'm supposed tae watch out for ye."

Deirdre almost growled. This pity and self-reflection from Aoife was even worse than the holier-than-thou attitude. Did they really all think her so weak, so helpless? Did they really think she was so incapable?

But no. She would not storm out again like she had this morning, even though every part of her longed to get away from this. She was tired of them not listening to her, and she was going to make them do it, no matter what.

"Fine," she said slowly, through gritted teeth. "I admit I made an error in goin' tae the village today. I'll even apologize for it. But I went for a good reason, as good a reason as any of ye could manage."

James and Blair exchanged a meaningful look. Jocelyn leaned forward and said, "Tell me this isn't about Clan Brennan again."

"They're plottin' tae join Bram, I'm tellin' ye!" Deirdre insisted, ignoring the weary sigh Blair let out in response. "Why are none of ye takin' it seriously? Brennan is no small player here in our lands. If he joins forces with Bram, he could wipe us all off the face of the earth. We'll lose everythin'. Our people will lose everythin', McMillan and McFerguson alike."

"It isn't your place tae worry about such things, Deirdre," Blair told her in a more gentle tone than before. "How can I make ye understand that? Ye must leave the burden of it all tae us."

"This isn't a game," Aoife added.

Anger surged inside Deirdre at those words. A game! Was that what they thought of her, then, as a child playing a game? Her hands were shaking, and her instincts screamed at her to run away as she had earlier in the day, to escape this mockery and get out. They would never listen to her anyway.

But she was determined not to run, not this time. She would not storm away and prove their point; she would not give them any reason to believe they were right about her being a little girl in a world she could not understand.

She took a shaky breath. "Let me go to meet with Laird Brennan or his son," she said in as steady a voice as she could manage. "Give me a few soldiers and let me make a visit. It isn't so strange that a young, marriageable lass would be visitin' nearby bachelors. And while I'm there, I can try tae find the information we need, and?—"

Aoife's laugh cut her off. "Surely ye're makin' a joke now, sister," Aoife exclaimed, still giggling. "Ye! Go and act as a spy! Never!"

Jocelyn shot Aoife a disapproving look. "Don't laugh at her," she said firmly. Deirdre felt a flare of hope for a moment, but when she caught Jocelyn's eyes, she only saw pity there. "Deirdre, me wee love, ye've no idea what ye're talkin' about."

"Enough of this," Blair declared. "Deirde, away tae yer rooms. Spend the night there and try tae remember yer sense so that we don't need tae have a repeat of this."

Deirdre took a moment to examine her sisters, seeing nothing but disbelief and pity staring back at her, and she wilted. There was no point to this, to any of it. She could scream, shout, sing her words—it wouldn't make any difference what she did.

Quietly, she bowed her head then turned and left through the door. The last thing she heard before the great doors closed once more was Blair, in a sad voice, saying, "What are we goin' tae do with her?"

Deirdre opened the door to her room and was startled momentarily to find someone else inside. She relaxed a moment later when the person turned around, and it was just Gracie, arranging some nice flowers in a vase next to the window.

Gracie took one look at Deirdre and stopped what she was doing. "Och, pet, what's happened?"

There were tears running down Deirdre's cheeks now, but even through her sadness, the little term of endearment made her burble out a little laugh. Gracie used the same pet names for everyone she loved, whether it be the children, Deirdre, or even her much older brother. It was a habit she'd obviously picked up from Maggie, and Deirdre found it very sweet.

"They think me a fool. A bairn who doesn't ken me left frae me right," Deirdre announced, and then the sobs burst from her chest and she began to cry in earnest.

Gracie hurried over and took her by the hand, leading her over to the bed. They both sat down together, and Gracie squeezed her hand but didn't speak. Deirdre leaned her head against the other young woman's shoulder, appreciating that Gracie was allowing her to just cry.

When the tears finally dried up a little, Deirdre told Gracie all the details of what had occurred in the great hall, and how she had been left feeling smaller than small. "Everythin' I say falls on deaf ears," she said sadly. "I don't ken how I'll ever get them tae listen tae me."

Sighing, Gracie said, "Deirdre, could it not be that they have investigated all o' this already? Ye ken me brother is paranoid about any sort o' danger—doesnae it stand tae reason that he's already looked?"

Deirdre shook her head. "No, it's not that. Lachlan already checked the Brennans out, and he's convinced that they're clean. But I ken there's somethin' else goin' on. Laird Brennan can't be trusted, an' I just want tae be able tae prove it."

Grace chewed on her lip for a moment, then gave a little nod. "If ye believe it sae strongly, then I'll talk tae me brother on yer behalf. I'll even get me mam tae nag him if we need tae."

It was a sweet gesture, and one that made Deirdre smile. She knew that Gracie would do this for her, but she also knew that it wouldn't make much difference. Even if Lachlan did bow to his sister's demands and check out the Brennans again, they'd probably cover it up well, just like they did the first time.

No, she thought to herself, I'm on me own.

"Now," Gracie said. "Tell me what happened tae ye down in the market. Me mam was in bits when she heard, an' I wasnae far off it. I cannae believe we were fools enough tae leave ye alone!"

"I wasn't alone," Deirdre assured her. "Ciaran was there tae protect me."

Gracie tilted her head, curious. "An' who might Ciaran be?"

To her own surprise, Deirdre felt her cheeks warm at the question, and her blush deepened when it became clear that Gracie had noticed. Well, never mind. Aoife had once been the person Deirdre would open up to, but Aoife—and her other sisters too—were beyond caring now. So why not allow herself to tell her friend?

"This lad who saved me life, his name was Ciaran," she explained. "He was…can ye keep a secret?"

Gracie grinned and mimed locking her lips with a key.

"He was the most handsome man I've ever seen in me life, even in the storybooks," Deirdre gushed all at once. "He looked different frae the soldiers, not the same kind of bulky, but he seemed strong somehow anyway. He had this impish wee smile, ye ken, a mystery about him, I couldn't put me finger on. His voice was like a steady rainfall and his eyes like a storm, and och, Gracie, when I was with him, I felt like he was shelter frae it all."

When she finished talking, she saw that Gracie was staring at her. Gracie considered her words for a moment, then said, "I didnae ken ye were so poetic. But then, if this lad was all ye say, perhaps he'd make a bard o' any o' us."

"I think so," Deirdre replied. For some reason, her embarrassment had faded. It only felt right to talk about Ciaran this way, no need for shame. "We only spoke a little, but I could tell—he really cared about what I had tae say, Gracie. Like for him at that moment, I was the most important lass in the whole world. He gave me a rose, but…"

She trailed off, a frown crossing her features. What had happened to the rose? She must have dropped it during the scuffle with her attacker. She tried to convince herself that was a good thing. After all, she'd already decided that she wouldn't see him again.

"Smitten on yer first conversation, eh?" Gracie asked. "Well, what was he? A merchant? A soldier?"

"A traveler," Deirdre replied, remembering the French clothing. "Mayhaps an explorer, I don't really ken for sure. He was on his way home tae his clan, but he stopped here just tae get supplies, I suppose. Not a common man, but then, nothin' about him was common."

Gracie smiled. "Well, perhaps one day we'll find him again for ye, eh? An' then all four o' ye McMillan lassies will be wed, an' Bram will have nae hold over ye anymore."

The idea of marrying Ciaran made Deirdre's heart flutter. How silly! She'd only had two conversations with the man—and yet for some reason, her soul yearned for him. Was this what they meant when they spoke about love at first sight? The idea made her giddy, and though she knew it couldn't possibly be true, she was intoxicated by the sudden urge to see him as soon as she could.

Ciaran represented everything her current life did not. While her sisters made her live a life that suffocated her, Ciaran was freedom. While here she was silenced, with Ciaran she was freer than she'd ever been. Perhaps that was why the mere thought of him was enough to make her tremble.

She forced herself to think of something else, anything else. "And what of ye, Gracie?"

"Me? Marry?" Gracie asked, raising an eyebrow before laughing loudly. "Och, nay! Perish the thought. I've nae interest in men an' bein' a dutiful wife. Perhaps I'll change me mind in time, for I'm young still, as me mam keeps remindin' me—but for now, I'm happy tae be Auntie Gracie and yer friend."

Deirdre chuckled. Sweet, strong-minded Gracie. Yes, she should have seen that answer coming.

"But ye," Gracie told her, giving her cheek an affectionate pat, "Ye're a lass wi' more love in yer heart than ye ken what tae do with. Try tae relax a wee bit, me love. See where yer sisters are comin' frae, an' trust them tae care for ye. Stop worryin' about the clan for a moment and look after yerself, aye?"

"Aye," Deirdre echoed.

Gracie left soon after, and Deirdre stretched out on her bed, staring up at the ceiling once more. The conversation echoed in her mind, over and over again.

Look after yerself, Gracie had urged her. But who was she, really? If Deirdre was not the baby McMillan, the wee bairn that everyone wanted to look after, then what remained of her? It horrified her to know that she wasn't sure.

Except…except there was one person, one person in the world, who had seen her for who she was rather than everything she was supposed to be. One person who'd made her feel like the person she truly was.

Ciaran would be waiting for her tomorrow night, patiently wondering if she'd arrive, and she'd planned to leave him there. Why? What use was responsibility when nobody cared for what she had to say? What use was safety if her life was a prison?

No. She would go. She would see him again.

And she would live.