Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Three days after the fire, foul weather moved in and lingered for over two and a half weeks. It rained nearly every day, with thunder growling over the loch and lightning lighting up the sky.

It kept Leo from his hunt for his nameless foe—whether it was the slippery bastard who had escaped his vengeance seven years ago or someone new.

As miserable as the weather, Leo shut himself in his study, focusing on the paperwork that had piled up in his absence. He would not have seen anyone if not for Fergus and his family finding excuses to interrupt or bring him snacks—or Agnes showing up for their appointed hour.

He'd tried to get her to leave the first day, but she'd sat in a corner of the room with a book. She'd sometimes engage him in conversation, which he reluctantly would find interesting, and more often than not, he had to remember to cut her off.

But the woman was too damn patient.

He sometimes found himself glad that she was not skilled in war or with the sword, for he wondered if his petite almost-nun could conquer Scotland if not the world.

The worst of it, though, was that when Agnes left him, never a minute past their appointed hour, he sometimes wished she'd stay. Or he'd be so absorbed in a task that he'd miss her slipping out. Also, he sometimes wondered why his wife never seemed to have lunch with him during the day.

Since she typically came before noon, Leo would chafe at the hours till dinner. More and more, he found himself hurrying downstairs, telling himself that after time away, an attack, and a new bride, he needed to eat with his people. Deep down, though, he knew it was Agnes. Before, he'd rarely eaten in the hall with his folk, preferring to sup alone in his tower.

They did not often sit together, as Agnes had preferred to move from table to table, clearly intent on meeting everyone. But tonight, he knew that she'd sat with everyone, and he'd overheard Kristie insisting at breakfast that she eat at the high table with his closest family.

When he walked into the Great Hall, the night's conversation and clinking of silverware did not falter as it had the first few times he had appeared. No, tonight, not a single person turned to look at him as he strode up to the high table at the front of the room.

Fergus and Kristie had their heads together, while Granny Ro was teasing one of his aunts and his uncle Donal was roaring with laughter. His uncle Balley was half-asleep, and Agnes had her chin on her hand, her eyes trained on the ceiling, adrift in daydreams. A soft, wistful smile played on her lips, and Leo did not realize he'd slowed down until someone touched his arm.

"Are ye all right, Me Laird?" inquired one of his distant cousins.

"Aye," Leo said. "Thank ye."

"Och, I see now." His cousin chuckled. "Many felicitations on yer fine English bride. ‘Spose ye should thank the Queen, eh?"

Leo elbowed him, fighting laughter and feeling light—young again as he hurried on.

I should come down for dinner every night.

At that moment, Agnes finally, finally looked down.

A true smile broke across her face, her nose wrinkling and her eyes dancing. Tonight, for the first time, they would sit together as Laird and Lady in this hall. As he drew closer and she stood up, he reached for her hand. It was hard to say whether it was instinct or need. But Leo brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to it.

At the same time, a soft cheer broke out, and they turned to see their folk standing on their feet, and then everyone dropped into curtseys and bows.

"Ach, away wi' ye all," Leo barked, but the laughter in his voice belied his stern order. A pang went through his heart, and he tried to emulate the former Laird as he called out, "Sit, eat, and be merry."

Heads flew up at that, and more than one smile came his way. Then, people sat down and began to eat.

"Och, Leo," Kristie said as he and Agnes sat down. His sister leaned across his wife to squeeze his hand. "Just as Da used to say. Lovely."

"Nice of ye to keep joinin' us," Fergus said, appearing solemn, but with a dancing light in his eyes.

"Och, aye," Granny Ro crowed from his other side. "I ken Gilley is right tickled. Wonder what had changed that, hm?"

"Enough," Leo growled, although underneath, he was secretly pleased. "Eat."

Agnes cast him a few curious looks, but he just reached for her hand under the table and squeezed it. They then proceeded to eat a fine meal of roast pig, potatoes, and end-of-summer vegetables. The fire and laughter in the hall hid the sound of rain and the storm.

It was one of the finest evenings Leo had ever had in Briorn Castle. And at the end of the meal, sitting back, listening to Agnes and Kristie's chatter, he reflected that it could always be like this.

The next day dawned clear and bright. Leo had to ride further afield than usual, well past Orsal as he surveyed the river height. He missed Agnes, but he knew he would see her at dinner. He came back a bit later than the evening before and had to hurry to the hall.

When he walked in, the atmosphere was different—quieter. His eyes flicked around, and he noticed several folks craning their necks, looking at the high table.

For me?

Then he spotted the guard having a hushed, intense conversation with Kristie and Fergus. Both his sister and brother-in-law had serious expressions, and he watched them exchange a glance.

And where was?—

"There you are," came a breathless voice at his side, and someone squeezed his arm. He glanced down to see Agnes had sidled up to him. "I was conferring with Gilley and…" Her brow creased. "Is something amiss?"

The guard had spotted them and hurried over to them now. Leo pulled Agnes to his side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The lad, tall and strapping, going by the name of Jonathan, executed a quick bow.

"Me Laird, Me Lady." He straightened up with a serious air. "Ye have a visitor."

The fine-boned, elegant woman stood up as the Laird and Lady entered, drawing back her hood from a head of dark hair. She bobbed a curtsey, as was the custom, and Leo offered a curt nod in return. Agnes, next to him, seemed frozen.

Leo did not blame her. Until they'd walked into the small sitting room off the gatehouse, he'd been sure that it was a charlatan, or his guards had gotten confused. But here Lavinia Wells stood.

" Mother. " Agnes stopped upon seeing her and shook her head. Leo was gratified when she stepped closer to him, holding on to his arm tighter. "What— how are you here? Are you alone? Why… what has happened…" she trailed off as she noticed what Leo had already been surveying—the small cluster of people just beyond Lavinia.

Four armed guards—her escorts presumably—one lady-in-waiting, and three maids stood beyond, all looking a bit worse for the wear. One maid swayed on her feet, the lady-in-waiting's hem was caked with mud, and the guards looked in dire need of a drink. Leo was certain there were more men outside.

No wonder why Jonathan had run to fetch him. He'd have to find them lodging and victual at such short notice—and they were already overrun with visiting cousins.

"I apologize for our late arrival," Lady Cumbria said in a conversational tone, as though it were no uncommon thing for her to be waiting in the Briorn Castle gatehouse. "The weather seemed better, but the roads were still poor." She paused, and those sharp green eyes flicked down. "Perhaps I should've waited another day."

"Nay, ‘tis fine," Leo said, forcing himself to act as his parents would have. "Welcome to our home."

What difference would a day make when ye are surprisin' us on our doorstep? Did ye follow us from England, then?

"Thank you," Lady Cumbria said softly as she looked back up.

"Perhaps ye would like to rest," Leo said. "Retire to yer rooms and have a bite to eat."

"I would, yes, but?—"

"Wait a moment," Agnes said, shaking herself as though to recover from her shock. She pulled free of Leo and flew across the room.

Leo followed, noting how his wife's hand shook as she reached for Lavinia's.

For a moment, it seemed that Agnes was the one taking care of her mother, not the other way around. "This does not make any sense. Why are you acting as though it is no great surprise to see you so far north? Did you leave right after we were wed?"

Leo was glad that Agnes was taking the situation in hand, as both Lady and daughter. Her mother was pale and distant, her loveliness as fragile as gossamer—more a ghost than an English lady. Although, Leo admitted to himself, sometimes it was a bit hard to tell the difference.

"Oh, yes," Lavinia said, her tone polite and warm, but her gaze still too distant. "Perhaps a week after you were wed." She squeezed Agnes's hands, then dropped them and reached into her sleeve. Then, she offered Agnes a letter with a bold, dashing hand. "I received word from your sister. Somehow, Emma heard what happened, and she wanted me to give this letter to you both. I believe it holds both felicitations and apologies."

"The latter is not needed," Leo half-snapped as Agnes's shoulders slumped.

"I see," Agnes said quietly, then shook herself and gestured to a couch. "Here, sit."

Lavinia sat, almost obediently.

Agnes surveyed the group of people. "If you step outside, there will be a maid named Gelis waiting for me. Ask her to take you to the kitchens to warm up and eat."

"Aye," Leo said, his heart swelling with pride for her. "And I shall see to yer lodgings. If ye have men outside, bring them in as well."

"Thank you," said one of the guards as they filed out.

Lavinia did not even seem to notice and instead gazed into the fire as though looking for signs.

Agnes and Leo exchanged a look in the silent room as the door swung shut behind the last maid, and Leo glanced back in time to see Gelis and a few other maids, along with Marta, all craning their necks for a glimpse. He shook his head as he turned back around.

For a moment, Agnes seemed uncertain, then she stepped up to Lavinia, folded her skirts with practiced ease, and sat next to her. Leo strode forward, taking a seat across from them.

Agnes shot him a quick smile and then focused on Lavinia. "Mother."

Lavinia didn't answer.

"Mother." She stirred and gave Agnes a tired smile. "Where is Father?"

Why are you here? rang below the words.

But Lavinia didn't seem to hear it. Her lips went flat, and her eyes took on the appearance of a cold green mist that Leo never hoped to see in Agnes's eyes.

"He has taken it into his head to track down your sister, believing she was somewhere south…" She looked away and wrung her hands. "I'm afraid the ruse did not work as Matthew had hoped. Somehow, the Queen knows that your sister fled and her twin married Laird MacLarsen." She inhaled sharply. "It has caused quite a scandal. When I left, Lord Cumbria was already well on his way to London."

Dismay shot through Leo. For all the havoc that Agnes's twin had wreaked on the Wells, himself, and Agnes, he was secretly grateful to her. If Emma had not flouted the Queen's Edict, he would not have Agnes. And he secretly liked that the sisters seemed to have the same spirit.

More, though, his wicked Scottish heart had delighted in English nobility, especially a lady, thumbing her nose at the Crown.

"It does not matter," Lavinia said. "Alone in that manor, I realized that I should not have let you come here alone. So untested and untried." She put a hand on Agnes's cheek, and Leo saw his wife's shoulders slump further, as though she did not have the heart to push Lavinia away. "I have come to help you become a lady."

"Oh," Agnes said in a small voice.

"Nes is already the lady of this castle," Leo cut in. His hands gripped the arms of his chair. "Everything has worked out as though by Providence's hand." Agnes looked over at him, and he caught her gaze, not looking away as he said, "I wouldnae change a damn thing."

Agnes smiled, but it was strained. At that moment, a streak of gray fur landed on her lap—Dusty made a sudden appearance, as was his wont. The curve of her neck seemed sad to Leo as she stroked the kitten. And he was half-tempted to kick Lady Cumbria out, his mother-in-law or not.

"Oh, no, that is not all… I did not mean that," Lavinia hastened to say. "Please do not take offense. It's just there are so many things that Agnes should know. Things I should have taught her. If I could take some of her time—stay here for some time… I also would like to get to know you, my dear."

Leo huffed but did not answer, even though he knew he could not turn an English in-law out. No matter how tempting it was.

"I also need some time away from Lord Cumbria," Lavinia admitted softly.

Both Leo and Agnes looked at her then, watching the woman avert her gaze, and her hands twisted in her skirts.

"I-I dread his return. He does not even know where I've gone."

Christ in Heaven . This cannae get worse.

"Yes, of course," Agnes said. "Of course, you may stay."

Part of Leo felt a burst of admiration that Agnes made that decision without glancing over at him, but another part of him wanted to protest her making that decision without him.

"Thank you," Lavinia said and sat back. "Oh, Laird?—"

"Leo," Leo interrupted. "We are kin."

"Of course," Lavinia said. "And you must call me Lavinia." She paused and smiled at him, then said, "The Griersons send their regards. I was forced to seek shelter when the storms came."

Leo had to work hard not to snort or roll his eyes. "Ah, took ye in, did they?" Lavinia nodded. "How kind."

Of course. Those bloody shites.

Perhaps Clan Grierson had even magicked up the storms to waylay his English mother-in-law and get all the gossip from her. How that bloody Clan Grierson always managed to involve themselves in others' business was nothing short of incredible—and infuriating.

Lavinia seemed to sense that something was amiss, from the crease on her brow, though she did not say anything. A tense silence fell over the room, and Leo tried not to shift in his seat or ask Agnes what was on her mind. Meanwhile, Lavinia turned to gaze earnestly at Agnes, who stared down at Dusty as she stroked his back.

"Dearest," Lavinia started.

Agnes abruptly stood up and hugged Dusty close. "I apologize, but I am exhausted from the day. Mother, someone will show you to your rooms." She glanced at Leo, who gave her a quick nod, and her face softened. "We shall talk tomorrow."

With that, Agnes and the cat all but fled, and Leo stifled a deep sigh. Weariness nearly pinned him to his seat, but he forced himself up and half-bowed to his mother-in-law.

"She is right not to trust me yet," Lavinia said in a soft voice, and Leo straightened up in surprise. "I can see the battle in her eyes. I know this will take time, and I know I am intruding…"

She swallowed, and she suddenly seemed so small, so uncertain. And Leo could see the woman who was lied to about not having twins, who had been deceived by the person she trusted the most, despite his good intentions. Who must have felt like she had lost two daughters in the past few months.

"Nay," Leo said. "I would give anythin' for more time with me parents. She needs time, I agree, and this is a good time—before bairns or—" He broke off as Lavinia made a startled noise. "Ach, I didnae mean to imply—" He felt himself redden as he said, solemn as a monk, "Only Providence kens when we will be blessed with bairns."

Lavinia smothered a laugh. "I see. Thank you, Leo." She hesitated, then said, "I hope you'll forgive a mother's interference, but I think she needs you right now. Would you go after her?"

Leo was grateful that Lavinia had given him an out, but also annoyed because, of course, he'd intended to go after his wife.

After offering his mother-in-law a curt nod, he swept out of the room, stopping only to pass instructions to the servants. Thankfully, he knew he could trust his staff—and probably Kristie, who would come down once she heard that Lavinia Wells was staying—to handle things.

Now, he had to find his wife.

As Leo hurried down the hall, he reflected on the shared impulse among the Wells women to flee. His steps quickened, even as he told himself that Agnes wouldn't run.

Would she?