Page 43 of Bride Takes a Laird
“Oh, dear, that is quite the dilemma, lass. Well, Magnus would pay the man back his coins. Ye have only to ask him.”
Kendra shook her head. “I cannot do that and will not be beholden to my husband to repay my father’s debt.”
“Do not let the shame of that besmirch your marriage. Magnus will understand that ye had nothing to do with the transaction. He will repay your neighbor without judgment.” His mother set a comforting hand on her knee.
“I am shamed by it. My father had to put the coins somewhere and I hope to find them. Then and only then, can I right this situation. When I do, I shall return them to the knave and all will be well. I beg you to keep this to yourself until I figure out what to do.”
“I shall keep your secret, Kendra, but soon ye must confide in Magnus. He shall see it put to right.”
She reached to take her mother-in-law’s hands. “And you… Have faith that Magnus will find out what happened to Ned. He will enact vengeance if it is merited. Until then, we must go on.”
“I will think on your words,” Faye told her. “I know that Magnus is unrelenting and I believe he shall find out how Ned was killed. Go on, lass, I will finish my meal here and then I will come down after I have changed. Worry not, for ye will find the coins or Magnus will see to the repayment.”
Kendra headed for the door and smiled at Lady Faye before she left. She hastened her steps and reached the outside. With the burden of her secret released, she felt somewhat better about having told Lady Faye. In revealing her distress, she hoped to distract Lady Faye from her mourning and give her something else to focus on instead. If that didn’t work, Kendra knew, having grandchildren to anticipate and live for definitely would give Faye a reason to stay alive.
It was nice to have someone to share confidences with besides Linet. Her friend didn’t understand the severity of her situation with Heatherington. Mostly because she hadn’t shared the truth of the situation, because Kendra didn’t want her friend to worry about the possibility of her own parents being ousted by the knave.
The afternoon had grown warmer and she removed her mother’s shawl and placed it over her arm. On her way to see her father at the far end of the island, she smiled and waved to the clan’s women. Most were outside tending to tasks. A woman hung laundry on lines of rope next to her cottage. Another woman stirred a large vat set on coals near the stoop of her stone cottage. One woman scattered feed to aquietly clucking flock of chickens and hissing geese. Children raced about, shouting and laughing. People seemed happier than they had before the festival and while she wasn’t sure if it was the warmer weather bringing joy back to them, or the continued gaiety from the bonfires, she was glad to see the pall had lifted.
When she reached her father’s cottage, again, he wasn’t inside. She traipsed to the back of the fief and at the gate, she stopped before the guard. “Have you seen Laird Hugh or my father?”
“Aye, Milady, they went to the loch a while ago.”
After he gave her direction, she picked up her steps and hastened toward the copse of trees. Beneath the canopy of the high-leaved branches, she felt much cooler. As she neared the loch, the scent of water and soil engulfed her senses and she could see the brackish color of the water between the tree trunks. Kendra listened for sounds and heard men’s gruff voices a little way down the bank. She walked spryly toward them and smiled when she spotted Papa and the laird. They welcomed her.
“I have never seen any place as beautiful as this,” she said in awe when she stopped next to her father. Surrounded by woodland, the loch waters flowed leisurely along. The loch was large enough to have to take a boat to the other side and was too far to swim across. On the shore abutting the beach, branches of pine and yews swayed from the mid-afternoon breeze. Just being there sent a sense of serenity through her. “How goes the fishing?” she asked and knelt next to her father.
Laird Hugh took a tartan and set it on the ground next to where her father sat at the loch’s bank. “Take a rest, Milady, and aye, it is bonny here. We haven’t caught a single fish yet.”
“Who is the lass?” her father asked Hugh. Just as he said that her father rose and yanked his stick. A fish flew through the air and landed on the bank before him. Her father grinned and celebrated his accomplishment with a shout. “Aye, look at the size of this one, Hugh.”
“We’ll have a good supper this night,” Hugh said.
As saddened as she was that her father had asked who she was, she was gladdened that he seemed to enjoy being at the loch. Kendra relaxed back and leaned on the palms of her hands, splayed behind her determined that she too would enjoy being in such a lovely spot.
She spent the rest of the afternoon in their company. It lightened her heart to see her father smile and enjoy himself. By the time they readied to leave and return to the fief, the men had caught four fish in all. John returned before they retreated. He’d spent the afternoon doing a spot of hunting and had used his bow to kill two hares.
Their walk to the wall was filled with enthusiastic embellishments of how large their fish were. Even though the basket Hugh held was quite heavy, the fish were only about the length of her forearm. At the wall, the guard opened the gate and greeted them. She walked them to the cottage and bid the men a good night.
Then she hurried to the main fief and hoped she wasn’t late for supper. Inside the great hall, many had gathered for the meal. She sprinted up the stairs and entered her chamber. There, she quickly washed and changed her gown. When she was ready, she rushed to the hall. Kendra didn’t see Magnus within and realized he hadn’t returned. Saddened, she took her place at the table next to Magnus’s usual chair which was vacant.
Supper was a blurred event for her as she couldn’t help but be immersed in her thoughts—what to do about Heatherington, how to win Magnus’s affection, but the most affecting, her father’s possible looming demise.
Chapter Sixteen
In the deepwoods of the forest near the border of his land, Magnus slid from his horse and held his sword clenched in his hand. With so many trees rooted to the ground, there wasn’t enough space to ride through. He tensed with anticipation of battling the Chattans. His men likewise dismounted and waited for his command to attack. They allowed their horses to roam free and the men moved toward the open field nearby to draw their enemy.
The sky lightened as dawn shadowed the land, giving it an ethereal mien. Magnus and his followers reverted silently around the woods to where they’d heard the interlopers. It was eerily quiet. At the onset of a new day, birds were usually chirping and making their calls from atop the tree canopies. Yet, there were no noises from the feathered creatures. Nor were there sounds of scuffles from morning venturers of grouse, wild cats, squirrels, or deer.
His thudding heart overtook his ability to hone in on his surroundings. Magnus took a breath and released a long drawn-out sigh. He kept his eyes trained on the spot where he expected the Chattans would ride through. He listened for the sounds of the trespassers and heard the thud of hoof falls on the forest floor. Then came snorts from horses and muffled voices from men who were unaware that Magnus and his followers lay in wait. He twitched his fingers at his men to indicate their foes were a length before them. Two of his soldierssprinted ahead and the clang of their swords pierced the air.
At that moment, Magnus shouted and ran forth. He spotted a Chattan follower and clashed his sword with his foe’s. After a brief tarry, he was able to cut the man down. The Chattans were akin to ants retreating from their mound in the ground. One after another came traipsing through the woods between the trees.
Outnumbered, Magnus wondered if he should call a retreat. Yet the advantage was still on his side since the men he’d brought were the fiercest amongst his soldiers and the Chattans hadn’t been expecting their attack. The clangs continued to ring, shouts reverberated through the trees. When he struck a third man, he heard a Chattan shouting and calling for retreat. The forest quieted a moment later and although Magnus’s breath rasped from his exertion, he rose and lowered his sword. Footsteps approached from behind him and he gripped his sword and ready to strike at whomever lurked there. But when he turned, he saw Hayden approaching.
“Are ye unharmed, Laird?” Hayden asked.
“Aye. Round up our men. We need to make sure none suffered injuries and put distance between us and the Chattans. Go.” After Magnus instructed his soldier, he walked toward the treeline where their horses congregated on the field, eating the green shoots of grass. His breath calmed and he was pleased with their efforts to keep the Chattans off their land. The Chattan soldiers would return to their laird and tell him what happened that day. But would that deter the Chattans from seeking retribution? Probably not.