Chapter 11

11

H e spied the messenger as the man approached the keep. Stepping back into the shadows, he watched as the courier from England, wearing the royal insignia of the House of Plantagenet, dismounted his horse and strode into the building. The others in the entourage simply stayed on their mounts and waited. Robert was tempted to follow him in, but decided instead to bide his time and keep watch.

Within minutes, the courier was back, this time racing down the steps and mounting his horse without a moment's delay. A glance at his men was all it took for them to follow him out of the yard to the gate. The whole thing occurred in such haste that Robert would not have believed it if he had not witnessed it himself. Now he would go inside and see what news this courier brought from England. In the pit of his stomach, he knew it could only be about one thing, one person. His half-brother Sandy must be returning to Dunnedin.

A sense of urgency filled him and he entered the keep, knowing even then that the direct approach would gain him nothing. Turning down one hall, he headed for the room he, or rather Anice once more, used as a workroom. It was off to the side of the hall and from there one could hear anyone on the dais if they were not guarding their words. He softened his steps as he came closer and listened for Struan's voice. The emotion in it was clear, although the low tones belied it.

"I told him no' until the bairn was born and now he does this?"

Struan's face was like stone; Robert did not remember ever seeing him this angry. The laird stood, turned to the clansman next to him and whispered something that Robert could not hear. The man—Iain?—nodded and left without a word. After taking a mouthful of whatever brew filled his cup, Struan looked at the group of elder clansmen seated around the table, one at a time.

"I promised her protection through this time. I canna break my word when given as laird."

"Were ye daft then, Struan, to ever promise such a thing? A man haes the right..." The grizzled old man, on Struan's left, let his words drift off as Struan glared at his challenge.

"I do whate'er I must to protect the future of the clan MacKendimen. And right now, the future of this clan lies in the belly of that woman." Struan pointed over their heads, in the direction of the chambers above.

"But Sandy is yer son. He is yer heir, the tanist of the MacKendimens. He was chosen by the laws of the clan, by this verra council, and stands as our next laird." Struan's opponent would not lessen his stance at all.

Robert moved closer. Struan stood a bit taller and, if such a thing were possible, his gaze became even more fierce.

"But I am yer laird now and she haes my protection until the bairn is born safely. I will no' allow him to touch her until then."

"And after the birth, Struan? What will ye do then?"

Robert waited with the rest as Struan considered his words. 'Twas obvious that Sandy was some kind of danger to Anice and that Struan had made promises to her. What had Sandy done to engender this kind of fierce protection from Struan?

"They were joined by God in front of this clan and her own. 'Twould be against God and clan to interfere in the business of a man and his wife."

The group seemed to release their held breath at the same time. Some crisis had been averted, but Robert was not sure of the nature of it. The men rose and pushed back from the table, the discussion clearly at an end. The distastefulness of it was obvious in the way the men moved quickly to leave the dais and hall.

Struan mumbled something as he waited alone. Robert strained to hear the words.

"Until parted by death," 'twas how it sounded. Until parted by death?

The words so startled him that he left his place and took several steps towards Struan before realizing it. The click-clack of his boots on the stone floor surprised both of them and he found himself staring into Struan's icy gaze and unable to think of a word to say.

"What is yer business here, Robert?" Struan stepped to the table and took the seat reserved for the laird.

"I saw the messenger and came to find out the news."

"The messenger and his information do not concern ye. Now, go about yer tasks." Struan lifted the cup to his mouth and drank deeply until none remained.

"What concerns the clan MacKendimen concerns me." Robert would not back down from this. For months Struan had treated him like a lackey, an errand boy to be ordered about at the laird's whim. If he was to carry out his duties, he needed to know the happenings of the clan... and the reasons behind such occurrences.

"I think no'. Ye are here as a visitor, only until Anice regains her strength and can oversee the new steward. Do no' expect more than ye are due here, boy."

Robert could not see; the furious haze that filled his vision blocked everything in front of him. His heart pounded at such a rate and loudness in his own ears that he wondered how it stayed in his chest. All he wanted, all he craved was one word of welcome, one word of acceptance and he would stay and make his life here. Every day of working in the clan and the need to stay and be part of his family seeped deeper and deeper into him until he recognized it for what it was. Now, that one desire, that one need, was crushed once more by the only man who could fulfill it.

"Expect more than I am due, Struan? We both ken the lie of those words. We both ken that I should expect and be due much more than yer willing to offer me."

"Robert, no' now. I canna argue this with ye now." Struan waved him off and stepped to one end of the table.

"No, no' now? Then when, Struan? We both ken that ye have no' made any attempt to talk the truth of our bond in these many weeks since I arrived." Robert approached him, knowing only that he had to confront his father. "Ye have allowed me to work for the clan, plan for it, prepare for its needs, and yet ye willna call me as one of yer own."

He stood before Struan, arms on his hips, chest swelled out in anger and challenge as he waited for some acknowledgment. Struan pushed back the chair nearest him with such force that it fell backwards, crashing loudly on the wooden floor of the dais. The few men and women working in the hall paused in their chores and turned towards them. In spite of an audience, in spite of the rational part of him that screamed caution and calm, Robert forced his words out through gritted teeth.

"I... am... yer..."

"Brodie!" Struan interrupted. "Come quickly, for I have an important task for ye to do and it must be done with haste." Waving at Brodie as he made his way to the front of the room, Struan whispered a warning to Robert. "In spite of yer beginnings and in spite of how highly ye have risen within the ranks of the MacKillops, ye ken ye have no place here. None then, none now. Dinna expect more or ye will face disappointment."

If Struan had buried a sgian-dubh deep in his chest, the pain could not be worse. Robert staggered back a few steps and struggled to control his rage and hurt. His head spun with all the seething thoughts, and the urge to strangle Struan at that moment grew until he could almost not control it. He turned on his heels and ran full-tilt down the steps and past Brodie. If Brodie tried to say anything to him, he did not hear it, for the roar of anger filled his ears and his being.

Even the icy wind, still howling days after the storm had moved on, did not slow him, nor did his lack of a protective cloak. He needed to get away. He needed to get his anger under control for it did him no good. A ride would tire him but he dared not approach Dubh when his rage was this strong. Needing a place and time to sort out his thoughts and set up his plans and priorities, he trotted through the gate and towards the loch off in the distance .

His eyes burned but whether with tears caused by the icy gusts or by the blow from Struan, he did not know. Tilting his head down, Robert continued his run. Soon, the resistance of the wind and the freezing air slowed him to a walk. As his pace slowed his thoughts quickened.

Why had he even let himself believe for one moment that he could return to Dunnedin and his clan and be accepted? He was usually a man who displayed a good measure of common sense, but the rawness of his confused emotions overcame any attempt to think rationally about his father, and about his father's refusal to acknowledge him.

Something else lay at the core of his feelings. Something darker and stronger than the need for recognition. Robert wanted... he wanted everything that his brother had. Everything his brother ignored through his absence and stupidity. He wanted the clan to know him as a member of the same MacKendimen blood. He wanted to take his rightful place as eldest son of the laird. He wanted to be accepted as tanist by the elders of the clan. And, if he were honest with himself, he wanted her.

Anice. His brother's wife. But as usual, Sandy and his get would always stand between him and what he wanted most in his life.

His steps slowed and he took in deep breaths of the frigid air. His thoughts turned back to Anice. Did he want her simply because she was his brother's wife? Did he covet her along with all that his brother owned? His brother's position and status?

Yes. He did. He wanted everything that Sandy had. It should be his; he was older, he was better. He was here, carrying out many of the duties that should be Sandy's. He even looked after his brother's wife. And he wanted her for his own.

He'd seen many different aspects of Anice in these last months. She could be a strong woman in control of home and hearth one moment and a weakling needing succor the next.

Her green eyes could blaze with anger or lately even happiness, or look vulnerable and full of emotion. Robert had many times fought the urge to draw her close and comfort her or to offer her encouragement as the days of her pregnancy became more and more difficult to bear alone.

He realized that part of him wanted her for the woman she was and another part of him coveted her as his brother's wife. Ironically, the very reason he wanted her was the very reason that would forever keep them apart—even if Sandy died, marrying her would be forbidden. She would be forever his sister-by-marriage if his true heritage were known. So a marriage between them would be sinful in the eyes of the church.

Robert let out a rough laugh at the quandary that existed for him. He wanted to be recognized as Struan's son for all that he could gain rightfully as that and yet that recognition would put out of his reach the one thing he craved most in Dunnedin. Anice. His brother's wife.

'Twas truly a situation where no good would come of his wanting. How many times did his hopes have to be crushed before he would give up and go back to Dunbarton? How many times could Struan ravage his dreams of a life among his own clan before he stopped opening himself up to the hurt? As a warrior he knew he could not win with this strategy. And he did not have enough strength to keep the wanting and desire for all his brother possessed within and not show it to those around him.

The chill finally seeped in and his skin erupted in goose-flesh. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Robert pulled the end of the plaid he wore from under his belt and threw it over his shoulders and head, gathering the edges close to keep out what cold he could. Looking about to gauge his location, he realized that his steps had taken him close to one who could offer him some solace no matter who his father was. And, with his innermost feelings in an uproar, he would seek the simplest of comforts in the arms and warmth of a willing woman. Following the well-worn path to her door, he knocked and waited for her welcome. Her smile as she opened her door confirmed that he could depend on Robena for a few hours of pleasure, pleasure he hoped would bring a certain measure of forgetfulness.

Later, as he buried his hardness within the warmth she offered and relinquished much of his frustration and desire, his thoughts still drifted to the one he could never have beneath him. The one whose name he almost called out as he reached his peak. The one whose haunted eyes begged for comfort and protection.

Anice. His brother's wife.