Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

D aemon woke the next morning to find the rain still falling, and his mood as sour as the weather. He hadn’t slept well, not with his memories haunting him. Or with the thoughts that had circled his mind, refusing to disperse for all he tried to dismiss them.

Lyla was on friendly terms with Darren MacLean. She’d said as much, but it did make him wonder what sort of friendship they had. Was it casual, or was Darren MacLean courting her? And if he was courting her, did Lyla return his interest?

He’d tried to tell himself it wasn’t any of his business. Daemon had no say in who Lyla courted, or was courted by, and no desire to have any input either. And yet, the question wouldn’t leave him alone, or let him rest. Cai’s words the night before, about what the clan might expect, hadn’t helped ease his mind, either.

He splashed some water on his face, then dressed and went down to breakfast, to find Cai and Ryan already at the table and waiting for him. Ryan greeted him. “Good morning.”

“If ye say so.” Daemon served himself some food and sat down. He took a swallow of strong tea before he turned to address Cai. “If ye didnae ken already, Lady Lyla and her party will be remaining until the storms stop and the roads are passable again.” He hesitated. “I’d like ye tae keep an eye on her, if ye would.”

“I can do so well enough. But surely ye’re in a better position tae dae so.” Cai frowned at him.

Daemon shook his head. “I cannae be sure o’ keeping me head around her. We’ve never been friends. She’s tae young, headstrong and hot-tempered, as ye saw last night. Definitely nae me cup of tea.”

“Aye. And speaking o’ last night, I dinnae ken why ye were so fussed over me speaking tae the lass, especially if ye’re nae comfortable around her.” Ryan poured himself a tankard of mead from a flagon. “I could have seen tae her comfort if ye’d asked.”

“And that’s exactly why I didnae ask.” Daemon scowled at the other man. “Ye’re a good man, Ryan, but I ken yer way with women. I also ken ye’ve been spending a fair amount o’ time with Alyn o’ late. Alyn and Lyla are neither one serving wenches tae be treated as light-o’-loves, the way ye treat yer dalliances among the maids, and I have enough tae be worrying about with ye befriending me cousin.”

Ryan scowled back. “I’ll nae pretend tae be other than I am, Daemon, but I’d thank ye tae remember I dae have a sense o’ honor, aye, and good manners. I wouldnae dae wrong by Alyn, nae more than I’d dae wrong by ye.”

Daemon bit back his first inclination to offer up a sharp response, and took a deep breath. He was out of sorts and he knew it, but he didn’t need to be taking it out on Ryan. “Ye’re right. I’m in a fair poor mood this morn, but ‘tis nae fault o’ ye.” He sighed. “There’s too many thoughts in me head, and nae enough sleep.”

Laughter proceeded the appearance of Alyn and Lyla as the two women entered the Great Hall. Daemon rose, bowed them both to their seats, then took up his plate. “Begging yer pardon, but I’ve a Council meeting shortly, and I’ll need tae finish readying fer it. Especially with the news ye brought me, Lady Lyla.” He dipped his head to both women, and hurried out of the hall before anyone could question him.

Alone in his office, he finished his meal and worked on restoring his composure. He wasn’t sure why being around Lyla discomforted him so, but there was no denying the truth. Being in her presence made him feel awkward and irritable, uncertain of himself in a way he hadn’t felt since he began courting Rowan.

Perhaps it was her resemblance to her sister, in looks if not in temperament. Or perhaps it was his reflex to treat her like Rowan, even knowing they were different women, simply because his mind still felt at times as if Rowan should be there.

Either way, her presence in his home was an uncomfortable reminder of the past, and disquieting. He would be glad when the storms faded and the roads dried, and Lyla could return to her father. Or perhaps to her sister, if it transpired that he needed to send a message of his own to MacLean.

At the Council meeting, he revealed the information Cai and Lyla had brought. There was some grumbling about getting involved in another clan’s feud, but no one was going to argue the obligation of honor to kin-by-marriage. Besides that, Darren MacLean was a good and honorable man, and a better laird than many. He took his obligations seriously, and treated his people well. There was little enough known about Donall Ranald, but his determination to seek feud rather than truce did not speak well of his lairdship abilities.

In truth, they were well enough prepared for a fight, if it came to that. MacMillan had faced few battles since Daemon had claimed the lairdship. His fierce reputation made most think twice about crossing him, and his skill on the battlefield had quickly deterred those who thought his reputation to be more talk than truth.

The warriors of the clan were strong, and well-trained. MacMillan would lose nothing by sending reinforcements to aid Clan MacLean, so long as it was less than a third of their total force.

Of course, the weather meant that no one was doing anything at present. Not even the most determined commander could move his troops through the storms that were currently sweeping the Highlands. Sending aid would have to wait until the weather passed and the ferry could be utilized to take men across the Firth of Lorne.

The meeting concluded with the decision that MacMillan would send a troop of fifty warriors to MacLean as soon as it was possible and the supplies were gathered. More could be sent if needed, but fifty clansmen would augment Darren’s forces well.

Cai waited until the rest of the Council leaders had left before he approached Daemon. “And what o’ the lass? Ye didnae mention her presence tae the Council.”

“There’s little enough need tae. They ken who brought the message, and any fool could tell that she’ll nae be leaving until the storms end.” Daemon eyed his friend. “Why dae ye bring her up?”

“Because she’s yer late wife’s sister, and there will be people wondering what ye plan, how long she’ll stay, and if ye’ll be courting her while she’s here.” Cai’s tone was blunt. “Already there’s whispers about her.”

“What sort o’ whispers?” Daemon frowned. If people were speaking ill of Lyla, he’d need to have words with them about the proper respect due to a visiting lady.

“The servants like her. Last night, afore she went tae bed, she went tae the guest servant quarters tae ensure her folk were comfortable and well cared for, and didnae need aught. And then she thanked the maids for their service afore she retired.” Cai smiled. “She’s made herself a welcome guest.”

“Good.” Daemon considered. “I’ll trust her tae yer care and Alyn’s then. Fer meself, ’tis best I stay away.”

“Because o’ the rumors that might come?”

“Because she clouds me thoughts and I cannae think straight around her. She brings up too many thoughts and memories that I dinnae have time fer.” Daemon shook his head. “The less I have tae dae with Lyla MacDougall, the better.”

“If ye say so.”

“I do.” Daemon eyed the leaden skies outside, and the rain lashing the windows. “Pray the storm passes soon, and we can all get on about our lives.”