Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

S he’d expected some trite story about getting punished for misbehaving, or perhaps a moment of anger between father and son. Hearing Darren’s tale about his mother and brother made Alayne’s heart ache with sympathy.

It also made her wonder if there was more to the story of his initial refusal for her hand. While she was still angry and hurt in that regard, she also recalled that his younger brother had been the guard for the Stewart lass he’d allegedly refused her for. She knew that because she’d overheard her father and Donall discussing it. Had something else happened involving his brother?

She wanted to know, but at the same time, she didn’t want to hear any more such stories. Darren didn’t seem to be in a hurry to ask a question, despite the fact that it was his turn, so she elected to ask a relatively innocent question of her own. “I’ve heard yer favorite food is venison. Is that true?”

Darren chuckled. “Och, ye’ve been listening tae Lyla. She thinks me favorite food is venison, fer I always ask folk tae bring some from the main Highlands when they can. But she’s nae completely correct.”

“Isn’t she?”

“Nay. I just never told her how much I like sweet cakes. The cook kens, and she’s often sent a plate up o’ an evening, after supper is over. Sweet cakes with honey, or cream, berry preserves… I’m fair fond o’ them all.”

It was such a simple, silly thing to have in common, but she found herself warming to him more, knowing that he shared her love of honey cakes.

She might have asked another question, but Darren drew the horse to a halt at a forking in the path. “Left or right?”

She blinked. “I dinnae ken. Where dae they go?”

“Both paths lead tae a waterfall glen I’m fond o’ visiting. The left hand path leads tae the base o’ the falls, and the little pool it forms. The right hand path leads tae the top o’ the falls, where ye can see the view, all the way tae MacLean Keep on a clear day.”

Her first impulse was to vehemently refuse the idea of the right hand path. Her second was to be angry that he would suggest such a thing, when he knew about her fear of heights. Her third was curiosity. “Why would ye offer me a choice? Surely ye ken which I’d choose.”

“I wanted ye tae have the choice, as I’ve seen it matters tae ye, and I can guess why. And because I want tae show ye that heights are naething tae be feared, as long as ye respect them. Ye’ve good reason fer yer fear, but I’d like tae help ye move past it.”

Alayne swallowed hard at the unexpectedly thoughtful reasoning behind his decision. Not even Donall had offered to help her conquer her fears. She considered a moment, then gathered her courage the same way she’d gathered it the night she’d thought they were going to consummate their marriage. “I’d like tae see this view yer talking o’, so long as I’ve the choice o’ returning tae the lower path if I dinnae like it.”

“O’ course.” Darren’s voice was reassuring and held a note of something like… pride? Respect, at least. Alayne basked in the unexpected warmth the thought brought her, clinging to it as Darren guided his horse to the right and started them up the path toward the top of the waterfall.

The ascent was noticeable, but gradual enough that she felt no fear of it. It was rather like climbing the stairs in the keep, with the trees to either side forming a ‘hall’ that enclosed her and kept her worries about falling over the edge at bay.

They emerged onto the top of the rise, and Alayne blinked to see that they were on a small plateau, stony but with the odd growth of bushes here and there, especially where the rill appeared from within the rocks and began its journey to the pool so far below.

Alayne dismounted and moved to regard the thin stream of water. “Is there a spring or something o’ the sort underground?”

“I cannae say.” Darren dismounted as well. “I’ve never thought tae look intae the matter. I suppose I feared that tae pry tae deep would lead tae damaging the flow, and losing the stream and the waterfall and the pool below.”

He moved closer and cupped some of the water in his hands. “I can tell ye ‘tis fresh water, nae salt. Wherever the water comes from, it doesnae come in contact with the firth, and ‘tis fit fer drinking.” As if to prove his point, he lifted the water to his lips and swallowed, a small trail of water sliding onto his chin.

Alayne watched, then stooped to scoop up a handful or two of her own. She was thirsty, and the water was cool and clear. It was frigid, as if filled with snow melt, when she raised it to her lips, and wonderfully fresh.

Darren let her drink her fill, then stepped away, toward the edge of the plateau. “Come here.”

Hesitantly, she moved to stand beside him. Darren held her firmly but not too tightly, and guided her until they were a scant few feet from the edge, the water dancing over the stones as it began the downward journey not an arm’s-length away. Alayne felt her breath hitch.

“Relax. Ye’re safe enough. I’ll nae be letting ye fall, and the ground is stable. Solid as stone. ‘Twillnae fall out from underneath us. Ye’re as safe as ye would be in the courtyard o’ yer own home.”

If he’d said such words to her a fortnight ago, or even a week ago, she wouldn’t have believed him. She wouldn’t have been able to. She would have been far too terrified to heed his words, and far too sure he was lying to placate her. Now though, it was different.

Now, she remembered the careful, easy way he’d helped her out of the tree, and how he’d kept her in the saddle as they rode back, even when she felt like all her limbs had turned boneless as lengths of ribbon. To her surprise, she found herself calming, relaxing in the strength of his grip.

“Go ahead and look intae the distance. ‘Tis easier sometimes than looking straight down.”

She looked.

Away from the plateau, the woods stretched out, uneven with the hilly ground beneath them. Thinner places could be seen, and in the distance, she thought she spotted the location where she’d had her misadventure a week ago. When she shifted her gaze, she spotted the very edge of a tower, and what might be a roof. She pointed. “Is that…?”

“Aye. ‘Tis MacLean Keep.” Darren’s voice was a quiet rumble in his chest, steady and firm as the earth beneath her feet.

He was right. Looking out was easier than looking down, and the view was breathtaking. If she squinted, she thought she might even be able to see the glittering edge of the ocean, there on the horizon where the sky met the earth.

“’Tis nae so bad, is it?”

“Nay. ‘Tis nae. I didnae realize - I dinnae think I’ve ever seen anything like this.”

“Most people consider the ridgelines a nuisance tae be crossed or gone around. But there’s plenty tae like about them. I used tae explore them a fair amount, while I was meant tae be hunting fer wild goat.”

She looked again. “If this is the sort o’ thing ye like, ye must feel I’m an awful fool fer bein’ afeared o’ heights.”

“Nae so much. A fear’s nae a foolish thing tae have. It keeps ye alive. ‘Tis when ye try tae pretend ye dinnae feel it - or try tae lie about what ye feel and what ye think - that ye’re bein’ foolish.”

“Ye think lying is foolish?”

“I prefer truth. When I think o’ dishonesty, I think about what happened between me faither and maither.” Darren’s voice was somber. “I cannae say it would have ended well in any case, but I think ‘twould have been better fer her tae have spoken tae me faither, rather than gone behind his back. Better too, fer me uncle tae have admitted when he fell in love with me faither’s wife.”

“Ye think he would have spared them?”

“I think, at the very least, that he wouldnae have wanted tae kill me youngest braither fer me mother’s indiscretion. And he could have had the marriage ended, and sent them away, if he was so angered. As it was, the lies and the sneaking around - and the fact that half the clan kent afore he did that he was being cuckolded - it was too much. His mind snapped. And fer it, me braithers and I lost both parents, and Adrian a faither.”

He’d mentioned Adrian. His war leader, as well as his cousin. “Is that why ye took him on, as a member o’ yer household and one o’ yer advisors?”

“I took him as war leader because he was competent, and eager fer the job, eager tae prove his faither’s faults werenae his own. But if he hadnae had the skills fer war leader, I would have found a place fer him, as kinfolk, and one I owed a debt too, aye.”

Silence fell, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “I’m sorry.”

Alayne twisted around to face him. “What fer?”

“I cannae stand dishonesty, but I wasnae forthright when I told yer faither I was refusin’ ye fer a prior contract. I kent even then that the contract didnae have tae be filled, and that it could have been one o’ me braithers instead. I should have spoken the truth, and negotiated. I cannae say it wouldnae have come tae a feud, but it would have been an honest one, instead o’ yer kinfolk feeling I’d slighted yer family honor. And ye.”

“But if ye didnae want tae wed me, regardless…” Alayne swallowed back the old feeling of hurt.

“I didnae ken enough about ye as a person tae ken whether I wanted tae wed ye or nae. I kent ye were Laird Ranald’s daughter, and fair reclusive, but little more. ‘Twas the terms yer faither tried tae set upon the contract that I refused, but I was fool enough tae try and avoid sayin’ so, and ended up slighting ye tae the point yer braither was willing tae declare against me on yer behalf.”

“Ye did see our faither killed as well.”

“So I did, and I wish it hadnae come tae that. But tell me true - would yer braither have declared feud if the reason fer me refusal had been that I couldnae accept yer faither’s terms?”

Alayne considered that. She’d never seen the contract that had been proposed for her marriage. “What were the terms?”

“A hefty bride price, fer starters, and one that would have near beggared me kinfolk. But there were also parts o’ the contract that would have given yer faither control over MacLean, whole and entire, if I died without an heir, or if the heir wasnae old enough tae take the lairdship. Bein’ the man he was, I didnae think that the clan would have ever regained its name and status as a sovereign clan if that happened, and I wasnae certain I’d nae meet with an ‘accident’ if I agreed tae it.”

That made a great deal of sense. Her father would have written such a twisted contract if he’d thought he could get away with it. And Donall - Donall might not have known the terms. If he had, he would have understood Darren’s refusal, and not borne him a grudge for it.

If the positions had been reversed, and Darren had offered a contract with a heavy dowry and conditions that would make him Ranald’s laird in the event of her father and Donall’s death? Her father and brother both would have refused it in a heartbeat.

“Ye make a good argument. And ye’re right - Donall wouldnae have been so quick tae take offense if he’d kent that was the reason fer ye tae refuse.” She grimaced. “I cannae speak fer faither though. He would have likely started a feud, regardless.”

“Doesnae matter, ‘tis done. I simply wanted tae apologize fer the mistake I made, that caused so much strife with yer kinfolk.”

Alayne blushed, remembering how much trouble she’d caused him at their wedding. “I suppose I should apologize as well, fer the way I acted at our wedding. Ye were a perfect gentleman, and ye werenae demanding more than what propriety and custom dictated. Even angry as I was, ‘twasnae fitting that I should have displayed it in such a manner.”

Darren’s mouth twisted in a wry half-smile. “Och, well, I cannae say I enjoyed it, but in truth, ‘tis nae the most difficult ye’ve been.”

Alayne glared at him. “And what is that supposed tae mean?”

“It means I miss sleeping in me bed, woman.” Darren grimaced and released her to roll his shoulders. “Dae ye ken how stiff it makes a man, sleepin’ on stone floors night after night? I’m nae some stripling lad tae be unaffected by such things.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. She’d been so grateful for his continued absence from the bedchamber, and his lack of any demands in that regard, that she’d not considered the matter beyond that. “I didnae realize… I thought ye were sleeping on a cot, or in another room.”

“Couldnae dae that. Certain sure it’d be the talk o’ the keep, if nae the whole clan and the village beyond, if I did. Such whispers spread like the wind, and I didnae want tae cause suspicions.”

He was still being considerate, protecting her reputation and his own, as well as making sure the king heard no rumor of strife or discontent. Alayne’s embarrassment intensified. Her cheeks heated with a blush. “Surely, with the wedding sheet sent…”

“I wouldnae ken, but I kent, from the way ye and the courier spoke, that yer braither’s well-being depended on the king being satisfied with the status between us.” Darren paused. “I’ve had nae news. Were ye angered with me because something happened tae yer braither?”

It felt as if a large rock had been shoved into her gut. Fear over his reaction warred with her desire to be honest. In the end, fear won. “I’ve had nae news either. I havenae seen me braither since he was taken tae the king’s dungeon. I couldnae visit him there, after all – ‘twould nae have been safe, and he’d have been angered had I risked myself tae see him.”

“Ye could write him a letter. I dinnae ken if he’ll have been told about the wedding, but as yer kinfolk, he should be told. If naething else, perhaps he can be reassured yer safe, and nae trying tae hold the lands yerself against the greedy lairdlings in search o’ a title and a place tae lay claim tae.”

Alayne shivered as she imagined what that would have been like. Trying to hold the clan together on her own, without even the basic training she needed for such a task - there were so many disasters that might have happened. She knew so little about effective clan leadership - barely even enough to serve well as the lady of a clan, let alone the laird’s regent of one.

Darren saw the shiver, and mistook it for cold. He shrugged off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. Alayne sighed as the remains of his warmth permeated through the layers of her own clothing. She wasn’t frozen, but she did feel chilled, and the added heat and protection were welcome.

Darren glanced at the sky, and at her. “I’d thought tae have a sort o’ picnic by the water, but if ye’re already feeling chilled, mayhap we should return tae the keep and try another time.”

Alayne shook her head. “Nay. The weather’s fine. And who kens when it will be so clear again? Spring is coming, and ‘tis nae the sort o’ season kent fer its predictable weather.”

Darren eyed her for a moment longer, then relaxed. “Aye, ye’re right. I’ll get the food then.” He started to turn away.

Guilt overwhelmed Alayne. He was clearly trying, in the way he’d given her space to think, and slept on the floor in spite of his aching body without complaint - without complaint to her, at least. He’d given up a whole day that surely could have been filled with more productive pursuits, just so they could talk and spend time together. He’d even thought of trying to help her conquer her fears, and how to do so in the gentlest, easiest way possible.

He’d just told her how important honesty was to him, and why. And what had she done? She’d lied to him. More than lied, she was deliberately concealing information that it was important for him to know. For all she’d planned to keep her brother’s freedom a secret, she couldn’t bear to keep maintaining the falsehood, not when he was making such effort to be honest and considerate.

Alayne reached out and caught Darren’s sleeve. “Wait.”

He turned, just as she stepped forward. The movement had them both stumbling to a halt, mere inches from each other. Darren caught her, his arms around her, and Alayne felt that same tingling, uncertain excitement she’d felt before shoot straight up her spine.

So close, he smelled more than ever of wild woods and salt spray and well-oiled leather, all layered over a distinctly masculine scent that was unique to him. His hands were steady, and his muscles under her fingers were firm and well-defined.

He was so close, his face angled slightly toward hers as he looked down. She saw the way his eyes widened, felt the slightly deeper breath under her hands, and knew that he felt the same things she did, though he seemed to have better control over himself than she did.

Warm breath ghosted over her face, his mouth tantalizingly close. Alayne remembered the feel of his lips on her cheek. What would it be like to kiss him, the way she should have on the wedding day? She didn’t know, and the urge to find out was sudden and overwhelming.

She started to lean up, to lean in toward him. His eyes widened a little more, his stance and his grip shifting as if he too was longing for a kiss. His head bent toward hers, one hand coming up to brush lightly along her cheek.

Then his focus changed, his expression going from hungry and focused to sharp and wary in a split second as he swept her into his arms and stepped back, his movements hard and quick.

Alayne gasped. “What are ye…?”

Darren slapped a hand over her mouth and darted toward the horse. He ducked behind a small rock outcropping. “Quiet.”

She was about to give him a tongue-lashing fit to blister his ears, when her gaze followed his to the place where they’d been standing. Her breath caught in her throat, this time for a reason far different than her earlier desire.

There, buried in the ground where she’d been standing, was a long oak-shafted arrow, still quivering from the force of its plunge into the stone.