Chapter 19

19

B raden was pacing up and down, lost in thought. He was trying to remember something more about his dream, some detail he had missed. The events were always so vivid, and yet the picture was never complete. But something had changed. The power of speech had given risen to a new possibility. If he could speak, perhaps he could remember, too.

And that's what I need to do, he said to himself, for he knew he would find no rest until his father's killer was brought to justice.

It had seemed odd to Braden to have his uncle bring a suspect to the castle after all these years. The bandit had been a wicked man, but he had not been the murderer, and the more Braden thought on it, the stranger it seemed.

Why did he bring him here? What was he tryin' to prove? he asked himself.

A knock interrupted his thoughts.

It was Calder, returned from the midday meal, and he was eager to discuss the strange occurrence of the bandit and the accusations against him. "It was a strange thing – I daenae know what kind of man he was. Where did he come from and why? Yer uncle brought him here, makin' claims against him. But for what reason? Tis' all anyone's talkin' about," Calder said, sitting down on a chair by the hearth.

Braden nodded. He could not understand it, either, even as his uncle had always vowed to find his brother's killer and bring him to justice. "I swear on my life," he had said, when Braden was still a child. And yet that promise had never been fulfilled, and the capture of the bandit had only made things stranger.

"Tis' playin' on my mind, too. I just daenae know why he brought him here. What reason was there for it?" Braden replied.

Calder shrugged. "The passin' of time – he grows older, he wants to be avenged," he said.

"And then there's my mother, too. She seems withdrawn. More so than usual. I daenae know, tis' like somethin' hangs over us. A danger lurkin' somehow… I daenae know," Braden replied.

He had tried not to think about it, but he had felt it ever since he had returned from escorting Roselyn north, as though something had changed in his absence. There was danger in the air, a brooding foreboding, and the arrival of the bandit had only added to his sense of discomfort.

"I feel it, too – tis' as though, I cannae trust those I once trusted. Furtive looks, whisperin' between the men. I wonder…" Calder said, pondering, as Braden sighed.

If he was to ask Roselyn to stay, the castle was no place for her to live, not with such uncertainty hanging in the air.

"Ye think they plan rebellion? But who would lead them? Do I face a known enemy? Do we have a spy in our midst? I've tried to ignore it, but these are dangerous times, Calder," he said, shaking his head in confusion.

"Tis' still strange to hear ye talk; I daenae think I'll ever get used to it," Calder said, and Braden laughed.

"Aye, well, let the others think I cannae speak. Tis' dangerous for such change to come about so suddenly. They think I'll never speak. Let them think it a while longer. We should bide our time, Calder. Danger lurks, but I cannae fully understand it. Tis' a secret we must keep," Braden said, and his friend nodded.

"We'll keep our council together, Braden, just as it always was," he replied, as a sudden knock came at the door.

Roselyn had been standing outside, listening in astonishment to the voices coming from within. She had gone to Braden's chambers to tell him she intended to remain in Scotland.

She wanted to express her feelings for him, to tell him how much he had come to mean to her, and to thank him for allowing her to be the one to whom he had first spoken. But as she had approached the door, she had been startled by the sound of Braden's voice and Calder's reply. They were speaking as though they had always spoken – of a danger threatening the clan, and of keeping their council, just as it always had been…

They've always spoken to one another, she said to herself, her eyes growing wide, and her anger rising.

Roselyn was astonished, and tears welled up in her eyes as she realized she had been played for a fool. Braden could speak, he had always been able to speak, and yet he had chosen to conceal it for his own ends. Roselyn had been taken in by him – as had everyone else – and he had used the revelation of his words to seduce her.

The wicked man, she exclaimed to herself, her hands trembling, as she raised her first and knocked hard on the door.

Fighting back the tears, she waited for him to respond, hoping to shame him. She had been about to give him her heart, to confess her love for him, and tell him she wanted nothing more than to remain in Scotland and by his side.

But hearing him speak, after everything he had said about keeping the matter to themselves, was like a dagger to her heart. They had shared such intimacies together, and with the power of speech, Roselyn had believed Braden to be sincere in expressing the words in his heart. The door opened, and Braden stood before her.

"I'll be back later, laird," Calder said, slipping past them, and Braden waited until he was gone, smiling at Roselyn, who was trying hard to maintain her composure.

When the sound of Calder's footsteps had disappeared, Braden breathed a deep sigh. "It's nae easy, lass," he whispered, shaking his head, as he beckoned her into his chambers.

Roselyn could not believe his audacity. He was still keeping up the pretense, playing her for a fool. But Roselyn was no fool, and she was not about to be treated like one.

"I came to tell you I'm leaving," she said, and Braden turned to her in surprise.

"Leavin'? – but ye cannae leave," he said, sounding hurt, as he stared at her in confusion.

He, too, it seemed, had assumed she would stay, and yet having learned the truth, Roselyn could not do so. He had always been able to speak – the conversation she had overheard with Calder had proved it – and now he was pretending once again. It was pathetic, and Roselyn had had enough.

"I've got to. I need to go home. I can't stay here forever. Besides, I've finished my work. You can speak. That's why I came here, isn't it?" she said.

She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing why she was leaving. He could guess as to the reason, if he wished, but she would not tell him. Roselyn would remain magnanimous, and Braden could be left wondering.

She no longer cared, even as she fought back the tears, angry at how close she had come to being a laughingstock. He and Calder were laughing at her, talking about her behind her back, and now she wondered just what Braden had told him of their night together.

"Aye, lass, I can, but only just. It was ye who brought it out of me. I daenae know how ye did it, but I'll be forever grateful to ye for doing so. But… must ye go? Ye daenae have to. I'd hoped ye'd stay here for a while," he said, but Roselyn shook her head.

"I was only ever coming here for a few months at the most. I thought we'd need longer, but it seemed we didn't. I can go home now. I miss my sisters," Roselyn replied.

The laird looked at her in confusion, but Roselyn was not about to be taken in by his continued act. She felt humiliated. Her feelings for Braden were very real, but it seemed he had merely lusted after her, and had used his apparent speechlessness to his own advantage.

"I understand, but tis' all very sudden, Roselyn. After last night, I thought ye'd want to stay. I hoped ye'd stay," he said, but Roselyn shook her head.

She would have stayed. She would gladly have given herself to him. She had fallen in love with him, but her feelings were based entirely on a lie. He was not speechless, and he and Calder had made her a laughingstock.

"Well, that was last night. I've had time to think, and I want to go home now. I don't want to stay here any longer," she said, and Braden sighed.

"I'll miss ye, lass," he said, and Roselyn fought back the tears.

"Yes, well, we knew it wasn't going to be forever," she said, as Apollo came and sniffed at her hand.

He whimpered, and Braden gave a weak smile.

"He'll miss ye, too. Please, will ye nae think twice about it?" he asked, but Roselyn shook her head.

Her mind was made up, as much as it broke her heart to admit it. She felt sad at the prospect of leaving, but she could not bring herself to remain, even as her heart and mind were torn. He appeared so sincere in his words, yet in overhearing him speaking to Calder, Roselyn had realized he was nothing but a liar. They had always spoken, and all this nonsense about a dream and a promise never to speak of what he had seen had been nothing but a lie.

"No, it's no good. I've made up my mind," she said, and Braden sighed.

"Very well, lass, but ye'll be missed. I know Kenna will miss ye, and Apollo, too, and Elena – ye've touched the lives of us all. But mine especially. Ye brought out the best in me," he said.

A tear rolled down Roselyn's cheek, even as she remained stony-faced.

"Yes, well, I'm glad to have done so. But I can't stay here forever. I've got to go," she said, and taking a deep breath, she turned, just as Braden caught her by the arm.

"Has somethin' changed between us? When ye left the bed, I was still asleep. Did I do somethin' wrong? I'm sorry if…" he said, staring at her with a confused look in his eyes.

But Roselyn shook her head. He had done nothing wrong – not then, at least. She had truly believed his words, or what she believed to be his first words, even as her belief had been proved false.

Everything he had done, everything he had made her feel, every word he had uttered – it had all been right, and yet he had betrayed himself through his words, too. She could no longer trust or believe him, even as she still cared for him.

"No, but it doesn't matter now. We both have our own lives to lead, don't we?" she said, and reluctantly, he nodded.

"Aye, I suppose so, lass. I just wish ye'd reconsider. Do ye really mean to leave now? Tis' a dangerous journey south. Will ye nae allow me to accompany ye?" he asked.

Roselyn had given little thought to the practicalities of what she was doing. In her mind, she needed only to get away, to escape from his deception and all it entailed. She shook her head, determined to refuse any offer of help he intended to give.

"No, thank you. I don't need an escort. Send me in a carriage. There's one here, isn't there? Have it take me to the nearest town, then I can go on from there," Roselyn said, but the laird shook his head.

"But ye cannae go alone. Ye know what a treacherous journey tis' south. I cannae allow ye to go alone. I daenae understand, Roselyn. Why are ye being like this? What has happened?" he asked.

Roselyn looked at him defiantly, drawing herself up, and refusing to be taken in again by his lies. "The bandit – he brought danger. There's more to this than you're telling me. I'm afraid, and I refuse to remain here any longer to await whatever fate might befall me," she said.

He looked at her in surprise, hurt, it seemed, by her refusal to trust him. "Didnae I save ye from the bandit?" he asked, and she nodded.

"You did, but more may come. What danger lurks around us? What do you fear?" she demanded, for she had overheard much of the conversation between the laird and Calder.

They had spoken of an impending danger, one set to engulf them all – a hidden danger lurking in the shadows.

"I… I daenae know, lass. Tis' a feelin' I have. But, well, I cannae say for certain. The bandit was just one man, but tis' more to it than that. Who killed my father remains a mystery, and I cannae rest until I know the truth," he said.

Roselyn shook her head.

"Then danger hangs over us all, and I can't stay here to wait for it to find us. I was terrified when the bandit seized me. You came to my rescue then, but perhaps next time…" she said, her words trailing off.

She would have trusted him with her life – she had trusted him with her life – and yet, in her anger, she couldn't help but speak these thoughts aloud.

"But if ye daenae think tis' safe here, tis' nae going to be safe on the journey south without an escort," he said, but Roselyn had heard enough of his protests.

She wanted to leave, and that was that. "I need to get my things ready," she said, and pulling her arm away from him, she left the room.

To her annoyance, Braden followed her, and he continued his questioning, even as she entered her own chambers a few moments later. Elena was there, folding linen, and she looked up in surprise as Roselyn entered, the laird following behind.

"My lady, I—" she began, but Roselyn interrupted her.

"Elena, please help me pack my things. I'm leaving for the south this afternoon. Quickly, now, I want to get going as soon as possible," she said.

Braden had fallen silent, and he looked at Roselyn with a sorrowful expression. It angered her to think he was still keeping up this pretense of being mute whilst Elena stood before him, even as the servant now hurried to do Roselyn's bidding.

"I'm sorry to see ye go, my lady. The things ye said earlier…" Elena said, glancing at the laird.

"Well, that was then. But it doesn't matter now," Roselyn replied.

She busied herself helping Elena with the packing, and Braden stood by the door, a mournful expression on his face. If she had not known better, Roselyn might have thought him genuinely remorseful at seeing her go. But what she now knew had tainted anything she might have thought about him, and she could feel nothing but a sense of shame at having been so easily fooled.

She had given herself entirely to him, caught up in the passion of all they had shared. But behind her back, he was laughing at her – another conquest to be boasted about and discarded at will. What had he really planned to do with her?

"But must ye go today, my lady? Tis' a dangerous road south, and without an escort I'd fear for ye," Elena said, but Roselyn shook her head.

"It doesn't matter. I'll be quite all right. I don't need anyone fussing over me. I can take care of myself. I'll have the carriage driver, and when I arrive in the nearest town, I'll engage someone to escort me," she said.

Braden shook his head, signing to Elena, who looked worried.

"But, my lady, tis' many miles to the nearest town, out of the glen, and far across the moorland. Can ye trust any escort ye find? Tis' a wild country beyond our borders, and a lone woman…" she said, but Roselyn had heard enough.

She was not about to be cowed into changing her mind, nor would she accept any help Braden offered her. She wanted to leave, and that was that. With the packing finished, she turned to find Braden still watching her. He had a sorrowful expression on his face, but it seemed the sorrow was entirely for himself, and Roselyn was not about to be taken in by it.

"I'm ready to leave. Have the carriage made ready," she said, her tone haughty, as she folded her arms and fixed him with a defiant look.

He shook his head and sighed, signaling to Elena to leave them. "Will ye nae reconsider, lass?" he asked, but Roselyn shook her head.

"No, I won't. I'm leaving, and that's that," she said.

Braden shrugged, beckoning her to follow him. He led her along the passageway and down the stairs to the great hall. Servants were directed to Roselyn's chambers, the laird signing to them, pointing to Roselyn, who nodded.

"Are ye leaving us, my lady?" the servant asked, and Roselyn nodded.

"I am, yes. Bring my bags as the laird instructs," she said, and the servants hurried off.

At that moment, Kenna and Innes emerged from the great hall, looking questioningly at Braden, who signed to them.

He can't even bring himself to speak to his own mother and sister, Roselyn thought to herself, shaking her head, as Kenna looked at her in surprise.

"Ye're leavin' us? But I thought…" she said, but Roselyn shook her head.

"I've had a change of heart. I want to go home. I miss my sisters and my parents, and I was never meant to be here for longer than a few weeks in any case," she replied.

Roselyn knew Kenna would be confused. Only that morning, they had spoken of the possibility of Roselyn remaining in Scotland, and Roselyn had even hinted as to her growing feelings for Braden. But all that had changed, and Roselyn had no desire to remain there any longer. It had all been a fantasy, too good to be true, and despite her feelings for Braden, Roselyn felt betrayed.

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Kenna said, glancing at Braden, who stood with his gaze averted.

Innes shook her head. She looked terribly sad, as though she bore the weight of the world on her shoulders, and Roselyn wondered what cruel reason Braden had for keeping his speech from her.

She was his mother, and she had suffered terribly in the aftermath of her husband's death. Was Braden really playing her for a fool, too? Perhaps they were all of them sworn to secrecy, each believing themselves to be the only one to whom Braden spoke. It seemed a terrible possibility, but a possibility, nonetheless.

"I intend to leave immediately. I'll make the journey to the nearest town, then go on from there. I'm to have a carriage take me," Roselyn said, glancing at Braden, who nodded.

"As ye wish, but tis' such a shame. I'll miss ye, Roselyn. We all will," Kenna said, reaching out to take Roselyn's hand in hers.

"And I'll miss you, too," Roselyn said, for she would miss Kenna.

The two of them had grown close, and she had come to see the laird's sister as her own. Kenna reminded her so much of Grace and Matilda, and it had been a pleasure to see how she had grown and blossomed since last they had met. But even such closeness was not enough to keep her there, not when she felt such betrayal at the hands of Braden and Calder.

"I have to go now," she said, as two of the servants hurried past with her bags.

Braden led her outside, ordering the carriage to be brought from the stables, as a group of clansmen looked on in surprise. No one was expecting Roselyn to leave. In the short time she had been at the castle, she had made an impression on everyone – the English lady, arrived to help the laird with his speech, all of them hoping she would succeed. As they waited for the carriage, Braden's uncle appeared from the smithy, holding a newly forged sword, and he paused, looking with interest at Roselyn, who only wanted to be on her way.

"Are ye leavin' us, lass?" he asked, and Roselyn nodded.

"I am, yes. I'm going back to England. I can't stay here any longer. I miss my family," Roselyn said, and Donald looked at her in surprise.

"Is that so? Well, ye go with our thanks, though tis' a shame ye havenae succeeded in yer task of helpin' my nephew to speak," he said, glancing at Braden, who remained resolutely silent.

"No, well, it hasn't worked. I'm obviously not a good enough tutor," Roselyn said, even as Kenna protested.

"But Roselyn, ye are, and if ye stay, there's plenty of time. I wasnae expectin' a miracle. But if ye stayed, perhaps more could be done, the two of ye…" she said, but her words trailed off as Braden raised his hand for silence.

For a moment, Roselyn thought he would speak, but he merely shook his head.

"It seems the laird will let ye go without further explanation," Donald said.

The carriage was now brought round to the front of the keep. It was an ancient, rickety vehicle, its cart covered by taught willow curves and a tarpaulin, drawn by an old mule. Roselyn looked at it skeptically.

"I hardly think…" she said, but Braden shrugged.

"Tis' all there is, I'm afraid. We daenae have much need for carriages. Ye could ride, but tis' a dangerous road alone. Will ye nae allow Braden to escort ye?" Kenna implored her, but Roselyn shook her head.

Her mind was made up, and the carriage, as old and rickety as it was, would have to do. Her bags were loaded on, and the driver was given instructions to take her to the nearest town – a two-day journey south.

As Roselyn climbed beneath the tarpaulin, she looked out, catching Braden's eye. He looked sad and forlorn, even as Roselyn could feel no sympathy for him – he had brought this on himself. She had imagined all they could be together, and it was her dreams he had destroyed. His own intentions were uncertain, but Roselyn no longer wished to wait for them to become clear.

"Goodbye," Roselyn said, and as the carriage trundled out of the courtyard, she sat back with tears in her eyes.