14. Ties That Bind and Break

14

TIES THAT BIND AND brEAK

B y the time the rooster crowed, James had given up any hope for sleep. He needed answers too much for his mind to allow him any peace. Rising from his bed, James made quick work of tidying himself up.

Using the old, faded pitcher of water and a threadbare cloth, James did his best to wash the last few months from his skin. He knew he would need a true bath later, but this would have to do for now. The soak made him smell of spearmint and oranges, leaving him refreshed and significantly less dirty. He went to work on his hair next, washing it as best he could in the small basin. With a fire still going in his room, he was able to dry it quickly, brushing and tying it out of his face. A fresh change of clothes and a quick shave had James feeling much more himself, even without the sleep he so desperately needed.

As expected, neither of his parents were awake yet. That was no matter; he intended to be gone and back before they woke and made their way downstairs. Tugging on his jacket once more, James slipped out into the brisk morning air and set off towards the castle.

The walk was a quick one, his mind occupied with everything he wanted to ask Taryn. He stopped first in the kitchens and collected some food, popping a fresh roll in his mouth and taking another for her. A handful of fruit and a small cup of tea made sure his hands were full, but he didn’t mind. He doubted that Taryn had been brought anything to eat since her arrival at McGregor Castle. If that was the case, she wouldn’t have eaten since their oatcake breakfast yesterday morning. She was bound to be cold and hungry. He may not be able to fix the entire situation in one visit, but he could certainly fix those two things.

Only the servants and a handful of guards were up at such an early hour. The hallways were free and clear, giving him a direct path to the cells. The men posted outside them didn’t care to stop James from going inside. In fact, no one said a single word to him as he made his way to Taryn. That suited his purposes just fine.

The air in the dungeon was significantly colder than anywhere else in the castle. His breaths turned to little puffs of white the deeper into the cells he got. The tea cup he was holding kept his fingers warm, though he wondered how Taryn was faring in such conditions.

It took blinking his eyes several times before he adjusted to the dark. Once he had, what he saw made his heart sink.

Taryn was curled up in a ball on the old, ragged cot, shivering in her sleep. Her face looked swollen from crying. It hurt him to think that she had laid there alone, all night in the freezing cold, crying herself to sleep. Throughout their travels together, she had seemed so tough and strong. Even when they were younger, she had a certain resilience to her that made James gravitate towards her. Seeing that broken made some part of him break too.

James rushed to the hook where the key to her door was and unlocked it as quickly as he could while still balancing the food. She started to rouse just as he stepped into the cell.

“James?” she croaked, her voice hoarse.

“Here,” he answered. “Take this.”

He pushed the cup of tea into her hands and then laid the food across her lap. With his hands empty, he shrugged out of his coat and draped it across her shoulders. Instinctively, she nestled in closer, trying to get all the warmth out of it that she could.

The sight of her made his chest ache. His mother’s words from the night before came rushing back to him; they truly only saw Taryn as something to trade to gain relief, not another human worth protecting.

“I never thought ye would be the only one to visit me down here,” she told him between bites of food and sips of tea.

He wished he had brought more.

“What do ye mean?” he asked, trying to keep his emotions in check.

Out in the woods, Taryn had looked so capable, so strong. She had bested him more than once and had even saved his life. But here, locked up as if she were no better than an unwanted animal, was a painful reminder that this was the girl he had once loved.

“Nay one has bothered to come see me,” she muttered with a shrug. “Nae even my own mother.”

Though she said it nonchalantly, he could see it was a bluster to hide her hurt. He would be devastated if he had been in her position too. Though his parents had not agreed with his decision to go after Taryn and bring her back, they had still welcomed him home with open arms and a warm embrace. He was starting to wonder if her parents had ever seen her as anything more than a means to an end.

“Thank ye for the food,” she added sheepishly, having already finished it all.

She cradled the cup in her blue tinged fingers, letting the warmth from the brew seep into her skin.

“I will bring ye more. Nay one even tried to stop me from coming down. I dinnae think it will be a problem to come again.”

In his attempt to console her, he unwittingly wounded her further. He could see from the way her jaw clenched and unclenched that she was fighting back tears. Feeling rather helpless, James kept his hands folded in his lap as he waited for Taryn to say something.

“I cannae stand this, James.” Her words came out in a rush that left her even more hunched over, as if they took all her energy with them. “Everyone hates me, and rightfully so. Though I did nae ken what was happening here, I am the cause of it all. I deserve everything they have said and done.”

The image of the villagers hurling their rotten food at her flashed in his mind. He winced in shame for not having stopped them or, at the very least, protected her from it. He had been too furious to think clearly, and she had paid the price for it. She still had bits of food caked into her hair and clothes. The next time he came, he would bring warmer clothes for her and a comb. Perhaps he could even manage to bring warm water for her to wash with.

“I thought that yer hatred would be the worst of it. I always valued yer opinion of me so much more than anyone else. But seeing that they all despise me, that they all think me a traitor, is agony. They dinnae care whether I live or die. They must think that for these last three years, I have given nay thought to them. And there is simply nay way to prove to them that is nae the case.”

She sighed and let her head fall back against the cold bars behind them.

“How can I convince them that I have spent the last three years thinking of them? That this clan is never far from my thoughts? How do I tell them that my parents only value me in so much as what I can do for them? I only wanted what was best for me and best for the clan. I see now that those two things cannae be. It is my life for theirs.”

Her words shocked James with their candor, but not nearly as much as the look she gave him after. She sat straight up, her eyes wide with fear.

“I will do it,” she told him. “Please dinnae mistake me, I will gladly sacrifice myself for my people. It is nae that. It is just that nae matter what I do, they will always hate me. They will always remember me as a traitor who got what she deserved rather than a lass who ran because she was terrified.”

“Ye were scared?” James asked, unable to stop the question from falling out of his mouth.

“Of course I was. Rumors about Baron Dudley had made their way into the Great Hall for years. I kent well that many believed he killed his first wife. Some said that he then hunted down the last woman who scorned him and slaughtered her entire clan. I have come to ken that this particular rumor is true. To think that such a man has Laura captive makes me regret every second of freedom I once cherished.”

It dawned on James then that he truly had no idea just who this woman was, sitting beside him. They had spent nearly a week together and hardly spoke a word because he had been too stubborn to consider the possibility that she could be anything other than selfish. He needed her to keep talking, he needed to know more about who she was and how these last three years had changed her.

“How did ye find out the rumors were true?”

“The clan ye took me from, the Kincaids, are the ones the Baron attacked. My friends, Aila and Sorcha and I rescued some children from a load of thieves. We needed a place to hideout as one of the lads, Arran, was sick. He was the son of the woman who scorned Baron Dudley. How he survived the attacks was nothing short of miraculous. And then to think he spent so many years on his own.” She shook her head. “Anyways, he brought us back to his castle, claiming nay one would be there. He was right. The entire place was in shambles.”

“It did nae look that way to me. From what I could see, the entire clan was having some sort of feast.”

Taryn smiled softly, her fingers smoothing one of the few clean spots of her dress. For the first time, he noticed the pretty shade of pink and how well it suited her coloring. She would have been absolutely radiant in it, dancing under candlelight.

“That’s just it, Lachlan, the Kincaid heir, escaped from prison and made his way home only a few days after we arrived. He and Aila went off in search of a healer for Arran. She came back with the woman while Lachlan hunted down the man who betrayed his clan. He made it back just in time with some allies to save the three of us from having to fight off an entire squad of English soldiers.”

“And the feast?” James asked, in awe that Taryn didn’t balk in the face of fighting against the English.

“Aila and Lachlan fell in love somewhere along the way. The night ye found me, we were celebrating their marriage and the start of the Kincaid Clan anew.”

A wistful look crossed Taryn’s face then. James tried to picture it, the makeshift family with two other fighting women, a couple of orphaned children, and the remnants of a once great clan. He didn’t understand it, but it was clear from the way Taryn spoke that she loved these people very much. They had become her family.

“I ken that ye have nay reason to believe me,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “But I swear I will do as I am told. I will wait here until Baron Dudley summons me. I will nae run from him or my responsibilities any longer. Whatever he demands to free Laura, I will do it. I will do my verra best to be a good, pleasing wife to him. I will nae make him angry if that is what it takes to protect this clan.”

James looked down, unable to meet her eyes. It no longer seemed fair to him that the entirety of the clan’s safety be put on her shoulders, on the condition that she marry a heinous man, nonetheless.

“But I must ask that ye promise me something in return.”

She reached out a hand, no longer tinged with blue, and rested it on his shoulder until he looked up at her.

“Anything,” he found himself saying.

“Ye must protect my family.”

James scrunched his face in confusion, not understanding why Laird McGregor and her parents would need protecting.

“Aila and Lachlan and Sorcha will likely come for me. If I ken anything about them, it is that they are already on their way. If they show up here, and I suspect someone will, ye must convince them that I went to Baron Dudley of my own free will. Ye must make them believe that this is what I wanted.”

“What am I to tell them about ye disappearing the night I took ye?”

He had to force himself to say the last part of his question, guilt setting in.

“Tell them that I wanted to go, that ye came and got me so that I would nae make the journey alone. Tell them that I did nae want to worry them or give them the chance to talk me out of it. I dinnae care what ye tell them. Say what ye have to, ye just have to convince them that I am here because I chose to be.”

“I will do what I can,” he promised.

Partially wanting to appease her, and partly because he thought it wise to stop anyone from going against an English Lord, James didn’t hesitate in his agreement. Two women, some children, and a fractured clan would be no match against Baron Dudley, not if the McGregor Clan was any indication.

He had heard of the Kincaid Clan before. They were known throughout the Highlands for their warhorses. Though he had only seen one of the magnificent animals before, he knew the clan had been a hearty one. When they had been attacked, word had reached the McGregors too late to do anything about it.

This was the first he had thought of them in years. It was surprising to know that any of them had managed to survive, and even more surprising that they were willing to fight against the man who had destroyed everything once before.

“Nay, James. Ye must swear to me that ye will stop them from doing anything foolish or rash. They cannae attack Baron Dudley or my uncle.” Her voice strained with concern. “Lachlan and Aila have been working tirelessly to rebuild the clan. They have spent the last six months undoing some of the damage that Baron Dudley did to his homeland. I would never be able to live with myself if the Kincaids were attacked again, if they lost everything again because of me. I am nae worth it.”

This time, James couldn’t stop from showing his surprise. For years, he had been convinced that Taryn was an entitled, selfish girl who thought only of herself. Yet, the woman he saw now was none of those things. She was half freezing, caked in rotten food, and sentenced to a life of misery but thought only of others. She was pleading with him for the sake of the ones she called her family, telling him that her life was nothing compared to theirs.

He took his time in answering her, considering how to respond. It was encouraging to know that he wasn’t the only one out there willing to fight against Baron Dudley, even if they were such limited forces. The McGregor Clan had done all that they could to broker peace. They had sent money and livestock, all in the hopes of ending the Baron’s ceaseless and merciless attacks. It had done nothing but weaken the clan. Anything that he did not take, Laird McGregor had willingly handed over until they were all destitute.

“The only reason anyone from the Kincaid Clan is still alive is because they had allies with the Fraser Clan. For all the years Lachlan was imprisoned, Laird Fraser kept the few people who survived the attack alive and hidden. They have only returned home. I cannae take that from them now. Arran has been through so much. So have Christopher and Elsie. I could nae bear for them to suffer more.”

“I hear ye, Taryn,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I will do everything I can to keep them safe. I ken well just how important family is.”

Taryn nodded, clearly struggling to accept his answer.

“I should go. My parents will be wondering where I am.”

“Thank ye for bringing me food. The tea was wonderful.”

She handed back the cup, and he settled it on the tray. When she reached to take his coat off, he stood and shook his head.

“Ye keep it. I have others.”

“Thank ye, James.”

He didn’t make any promises to return, nor did he reiterate his promise to keep her friends safe as he left the cell. With the morning sun starting to peek through the small windows at the top of the walls, the depressing state of the dungeon became clearer. Keeping his eyes down, James locked the door and hung the keys where he had found them before turning back towards the rest of the castle, the now empty tray in his hands.

If he saw an old friend or caught anyone's attention on his journey back to the kitchen to deposit the dirty dishes, James didn’t know it. He was too engrossed in his own thoughts to pay attention to anyone else.

It wasn’t clear to him how to reconcile the version of Taryn he’d had in his head all these years with the one he was just getting to know. Was it possible that she was not a selfish and entitled girl, but rather a frightened one who ran for her life? Did her parents’ utter lack of protection convince Taryn that she had no other choice but to run?

As for her newfound family that she was so desperate to protect, it was clear that Taryn believed they would try to fight Baron Dudley. If such a small group of people were willing to take a stand against the Englishman, why were the McGregors so hesitant to do the same? They had lost so much in the name of peace and had gained nothing in return.

The maids bustled around him as James entered the kitchen in a daze. What had been empty and quiet a few hours ago was now a hive of movement. He set the tray down near the sink with all the other breakfast dishes and shuffled towards the back door.

“D’ye go see our girl?”

James spun to find the head cook, Meredith, staring him down with narrowed eyes, a wooden spoon large enough to reach the bottom of the iron pot that hung over the stove waving in her hand.

“Who?”

It was a weak attempt at innocence, but he figured he had to try. Meredith only squinted and waved the spoon more, flinging the morning’s porridge across the room.

“Dinnae pretend with me, lad. Taryn. Did ye bring her some breakfast, or do I need to send a tray?”

“Send a tray,” he answered. “And a kettle of boiling tea.”

Meredith nodded approvingly, though he knew she had already spotted the tray he had brought in. Before either of them could say anything more, a flurry of activity demanded their attention from the other side of the kitchens.

“They’re back! Quickly, the Laird has requested fresh tea and bread for the messengers.”

While Meredith went off on a tirade about how bread can’t be whipped up within minutes simply because a man demanded it, James inched closer, wanting to hear more.

“I am surprised they all made the trip back. That has never happened before.”

“Perhaps it is a sign that the Baron will accept the lass.”

“Perhaps it is a ploy.”