Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

For the next week, Agnes was fussed over as she never had been in her entire life. Her mother, Granny Ro, Kristie, Marta, and all the rest dedicated themselves to caring and looking after their injured Lady. Agnes viewed it with some amusement and some weariness but allowed it. She was too wrung out to do anything else.

Dusty, too, would not leave her side, and that warmed her heart. She did not think she would have made it through that long week without his small, furred body snuggled against her side, or his mad purring to break the silence. He sensed something was amiss and sometimes sat like a small guard dog at the foot of her bed, glaring at the door.

As much as Agnes worried about her duties, she stayed in her rooms. She needed the rest. After the shock wore off, she'd slept nearly the entire day away after the kidnapping. Then her appetite had vanished, and she'd come down with a chill that took several days to shake. Her mother had read to her and sat in the room, knitting. Kristie had curled up in bed with her and told her funny stories. And Granny Ro kept vigil by the fire, offering counsel and telling myths and tales.

No one, however, mentioned Leo—Agnes had not seen him since he'd told her to leave Briorn.

Ordered me to leave Briorn—verily, the Lady of Clan MacLarsen.

When Agnes had finally recovered, though, and had gone down for breakfast for the first time since the kidnapping, she heard why. Leo was absent, and she was summoning the courage to ask Kristie when his sister started explaining.

"Ach, I ken ye are wonderin' where our Laird is. Off to treat with Grierson." Kristie shook her head. "There was a lot to sort out between takin' care of the traitors—those treacherous Mosage elder bastards. Never mind the Jack business and the raids. Leo feared retribution, but it turns out that Grierson feared the same. Now, they'll ensure that there's nay more bloodshed and Flora is somewhere safe—where she cannae cause more mischief."

A yawning pit seemed to open in Agnes's stomach even as she tried to smile at Kristie. She knew this was the best news they could have hoped for, that it would calm the quiet strain that had loomed over Briorn for the past week. Now, all would be safe, and the conspiracy would be put to rest—as would retribution.

Yet, Leo had not seen fit to tell her this news.

Perhaps he hoped I would not hear of it, for it seems it does not change my fate.

"‘Tis good news, Sister," Kristie said and squeezed Agnes's shoulder. "I promise."

"I am glad for MacLarsen and all its kin," Agnes said in a stiff voice which she hated.

Why had she become so small and loathsome? But how else could she act when it seemed that her very heart was about to rot her chest?

"That includes ye, Nes," Kristie said in a warm, gentle tone.

"No, it does not," Agnes said bitterly. "I am so pleased for Grierson and Laird MacLarsen, but it has naught to do with me." Her throat closed up, and she looked away. "It only proves that he does not want me here. I fear he never did."

"Nes, nay—" Kristie began, but at that moment, Marta came running up, saying something about one of Fergus's errant nephews, and Kristie's face darkened.

Agnes used that opportunity to slip away.

In a deeper misery, she went outside, down to the same spot by the loch where she'd gone after the morning Flora had come. Strange to think that had only been a week ago. All her days before that seemed filled with an impossible and distant bliss, as though they had happened to another person.

Agnes never knew that a soul could ache so and not sob. She sat there until the sun fell, and then went inside to find her mother.

In the darkness of the early morning, Agnes slipped into Leo's tower for the last time. The Laird was still gone—she'd heard from Gelis that Leo had agreed to accompany Grierson to the mountain road as a sign of friendship. But the treaty had been written and signed, one of the quickest ever done so according to Gelis.

Agnes knew she had to leave today, or else she might do something mad.

Or perhaps go mad, she thought wearily as she gazed around Leo's room.

Her gaze avoided the bed and the fire and instead went to the small trunk tucked against the wall. She held the candle up higher and directed one of the servants to fetch it, knowing that it held her only clothes that had survived the trip from England.

Agnes refused to think about why Leo had held on to this small trunk—or why most of the dresses from Madame Senga were also in his rooms. She chose a few of the more somber ones and directed a teary maid to take them back to her rooms to be packed.

And then she was alone in Leo's rooms.

Her throat tightened, and tears pricked her eyes. Try as she might, she could not stem the tide of images that flashed through her mind. Leo standing at the window, Leo smirking up at her from that chair, or Leo hovering over her, his naked chest rising and falling as he gazed at her.

Then worse, Leo's laugh in her ear, his lips tracing her scarred back, and his hand reaching for hers…

She drifted to the window, gazing out at the loch, which turned a soft gray as the sun rose, and she knew she had to go. But she lingered, unable to stop herself from greedily memorizing everything. Then her eyes landed on his desk, and she noticed that it was a mess of wood shavings and tools. She drifted there, vaguely curious as to why her fastidious husband had left it in such a state.

Tracing her fingers through the dust and wood shavings, she inhaled the fresh scent of clean wood. She recognized some of the whittling tools—Sister Theresa had once taken her to a woodcarver in the small village near Craeghil.

She went to pick up a tool and then froze.

There, amid the shavings, with a small knife next to it, was a small wooden cat. Her fingers shook, and it took her two tries to pick it up. Her thumb stroked up its back and over its cunning little ears, its furry little face.

Dusty.

It was Dusty. Leo had carved her cat. And yet he had not given it to her.

Tears came then, a sob escaping her lips, and she set the wooden cat back down. As much as she wanted to take it, something in her resisted, and she all but fled from his rooms. Her vision blurred, she had to stop in the hall outside her chambers and wipe her face several times before she could enter.

Inside, everything was prepared, and the maids looked downcast. Gelis was still abed, as Agnes had intended, and she nodded at them then quietly picked up her cloak.

"Please have my things brought downstairs to the carriage," Agnes said. Nods met her words, along with downcast eyes. "And thank you."

"We couldnae find Dusty, Me Lady."

Agnes froze and whirled around. "What?"

The maid gave her a nervous nod. "Aye, we looked everywhere for the wee creature but couldnae find him. Ye ken how cats are, so canny at hidin', and we werenae sure…"

Agnes felt a swift burst of pain in her chest. She'd been debating whether to take Dusty with her, and now it seemed he'd chosen. Perhaps it was for the best—he could stay with Leo and keep him company. The Laird was fond of the creature in his own way, and Granny Ro would look after him.

"It—it's all right," Agnes said and desperately fought back tears.

If only she'd taken that carving, so she'd have something of her small, furry friend. Part of her wanted to go look for the scamp, but she knew they could not tarry any longer.

"Just please look after him."

"Of course, Me Lady. Cats live like kings at MacLarsen, they do," the maid said.

"Well, thank you again. We should… we should go."

"We'll miss ye," blurted out one of the quieter maids, who Agnes wasn't sure she'd heard speak before. "Somethin' fierce."

"Ye were so lovely, Me Lady," added the last maid.

"Are ye sure—ow." The second maid winced as one of the others elbowed her.

"Quite sure, unfortunately," Agnes said in a soft voice.

She wanted to say more, but she did not trust herself not to weep, and so she headed down the stairs. Making her way through the quiet castle, she touched the stone walls that she had grown to love, the tapestries that livened up the tall hallways, and the windows overlooking the loch and the keep. She paused in the doorway of the Great Hall and tried not to think of Leo smiling up at her when he came to preside over the meal together for the first time.

All the while, she kept an eye out for a small gray creature, even though she knew she had to leave Dusty behind. He belonged here.

Out in the yard, her mother was directing the servants, and the carriage stood at the ready. Agnes pulled up the hood of her cloak and stole across to the stables. She thought Glimmer would be dozing, but the dappled mare was alert, her ears pricked forward, and her liquid eyes seemed to be filled with reproach.

"Sorry, lovely," Agnes said and pressed her brow to Glimmer's satiny nose. "I will miss you. But I know that Leo will find you a fair rider."

The horse whickered softly as Agnes wrenched herself away. Brushing away her tears, she did not mind where she was going until a large shadow loomed up and she careened into it.

Two big hands steadied her, and she gasped as she looked up into Fergus's worried face. Next to him, Kristie stepped up and pulled off the hood, while Granny Ro stood on the other side.

"Ye cannae think we'd let ye leave without sayin' farewell, Nes," Granny Ro said fiercely, even though her eyes shone with sadness.

"We shall miss ye somethin' fierce," Fergus added.

"Come back soon," Kristie said and embraced her, or tried to, over her swollen belly. "Our babe needs an aunt."

"I shall miss you all so much," Agnes whispered.

Indeed, they had become her family in a way that she had not expected. For a moment, she swayed, looking up at Briorn Castle and hearing Glimmer's whicker again, and she wondered how she could leave.

But then they hugged her goodbye and promised to look after Dusty when she asked. Then, all too soon, they led her to the carriage, where her mother held out a hand.

Agnes squared her shoulders and did not look back as she took Lavinia's hand and then stepped into the carriage to return to England.