Page 30 of Healing the Highland Sinner (Tales of the Maxwell Lasses #7)

CHAPTER 30

E llair sat on the edge of the bed in his room at Rosalind’s compound. Now that his deception had been revealed and the bond between them had been shattered, he knew he should go. There was nothing left for him there. Worse, whenever he did manage to catch Rosalind’s eye, the rage and contempt he saw reflected back to him were almost too much to bear.

Part of his mind screamed at him to leave, encouraging him to rebuild the walls he had lived most of his life behind, never letting anybody in, and never opening himself up to anybody ever again. The cost was simply too great.

But a different piece of his mind told him to stay. Told him that this was a mess of his own creation and that he needed to see this through to the end, whatever that might be.

And yet, another voice echoing through his mind, small and faint, whispered to him that redemption could still be had. That he could do something to earn her trust—and her love—back.

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, fighting off the emotions that gathered within him like a furious storm. “Bleedin’ hell. How has it come tae this?” he muttered to himself softly.

He resigned himself to staying with Rosalind, not because he hoped to find a path to redemption and reconciliation with her, but because he’d given her his word. He’d promised to defend her against whatever was coming next, and he would do what he’d promised. And after he’d done that, and ensured her safety or died in the trying, he would leave Rosalind’s compound and never look back, as was her wish.

A hard knock at the door startled him and he looked up as it opened and Ciar stepped in. His expression was sympathetic and not unkind as he looked at Ellair. He opened his mouth, seeming to want to say something, but closed it again and nodded, as if to himself, before clearing his throat, his hand still on the door handle.

“’Tis time, lad,” he said.

Ellair didn’t think that was what the man had intended to say at first, but his loyalty to Rosalind stayed his tongue. Despite all that had happened and the revelation of his deception and betrayal, Ciar had not treated him unkindly. If anything, he seemed to be taking pity on Ellair. He would almost rather the man hate and despise him for what he’d done. Pity was the last thing he wanted from anybody. Ever.

“Aye,” Ellair said with a nod.

Ciar turned to leave the room but paused and turned back to him. “Rosey, she’s… she’s tough. Strong. But that daesnae mean she cannae be hurt. And when she’s hurt, she tends tae hurt badly. She just tends tae mask that hurt behind a lot of anger and bluster.”

“I understand.”

“Dae ye?”

“I think?”

“I’m nae a man of many words—never been good at ‘em—but in me experience, the deepest hurts are caused by those we love,” Ciar said. “’Tis only those we care about who can get under our skin so deep they cause real pain. Dae ye ken what I mean, lad?”

“Aye. I think I dae,” Ellair replied.

Truthfully, Ellair had no idea what the big man was getting at. He’d hurt Rosalind deeply. He got that. But that was pretty much all he was taking away from Ciar’s words. It was all he could hear through the noise of his own pain.

“She is worried about what the Highlanders are goin’ tae say. She’s worried they may nae see her with an open mind,” Ciar said.

“They will. I’ll make sure of it.”

“How are ye goin’ tae dae that?”

“Because I ken these men. They’re good men,” Ellair said. “And they want what’s best for their people. They’re nae seekin’ power. They’re tryin’ tae dae the right thing fer their people. And I’ll make ‘em see that’s what Rosalind is tryin’ tae dae as well.”

The big man nodded. “And dae ye think ye can make these men see Rosalind fer who she really is and nae fer who they think she is?”

“I’m goin’ tae give it me best shot.”

Ciar sighed, his face clouded over with emotion. “Ye ken, I’ve seen the way ye look after her. I ken what ye’re feelin’ fer her in yer heart?—”

“It matters nae what I feel,” Ellair said. “Nae anymore.”

“Maybe nae. But I also ken Rosalind feels the same fer ye. ‘Tis why she’s so hurt, lad.”

“I ken that already. And now, anythin’ that might have been is… gone.”

“Maybe. But maybe nae. Love has a way of mendin’ things.”

“Sometimes, it’s nae enough.”

“’Tis true,” he replied. “All I can tell ye is that there may come a time when ye need tae make a choice. When ye need tae decide between yer duty and yer heart. Choose wrong, and ye may be right. Choose well and… who kens?”

“Ciar—”

“I like ye, Ellair. I respect ye,” he said. “But ye ken me loyalty will always be tae Rosalind. And I’m always goin’ tae dae what I think is best fer her. Tae want what’s always best for her.”

“What are ye sayin’?”

“I’m sayin’ that maybe what ye two have between ye… maybe ‘tis what is best fer her. Even if she cannae see it right now.”

Ellair looked down at his hands, Ciar’s words echoing through his head.

“Come lad,” Ciar said gently. “We must go.”

Ellair led Ciar and Rosalind to an abandoned manor house tucked away in a thick forest well to the east of Thurso. They were both tense and looked ready to fight or flee. Ellair couldn’t blame them. After all, they were riding into a meeting with a man who’d been looking to take the Widow’s head for some time now. Of course, there would be some nerves.

Rosalind had made a point of not looking at him, keeping her eyes fixed to the road ahead. In those rare moments when their eyes did happen to meet, her cheeks flushed but a look of sheer disdain crossed her face before she turned away. Every time she did it, Ellair felt pain lance his heart.

They dismounted outside the manor house and gave their horses over to one of Laird Gunn’s men. Another pair of armed men wearing leathers stood beside the front door, eyeing them warily as they approached. Ellair pulled the hood of his cloak down, revealing his face. The man to the right of the door recognized him with a nod.

“Nay blades inside,” he said.

They quickly disarmed themselves, stacking their weapons on a barrel that stood beside the door. Once they were free of blades, the man nodded again and opened the door for them.

“Thank ye,” Ellair said. “Keep yer eyes out. Sinclair’s got bleedin’ eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Aye,” the man replied uneasily as they stepped inside.

Oil lanterns hung on hooks around the main room of the house, casting it in a golden light. Laird Gunn and two of his advisors stood behind a table in the center of the room. The lamplight flickered in their cold, suspicious eyes, making them look as if they glowed menacingly from within. He felt Rosalind and Ciar tense beside him, that sense of fight or flight growing ever stronger from them. Ellair turned to them.

“Easy. Just take it easy. All we’re here tae dae is talk,” Ellair said calmingly. “And that goes fer everybody in this bleedin’ room. Just settle down now.”

Nobody seemed to relax, but nobody seemed to be on the verge of shedding blood either, so Ellair let out a breath. He stepped to the table, then motioned for Rosalind and Ciar to join him. They did so, moving slowly and cautiously. Once he had them all at the table, glaring tensely at each other from opposite sides, Ellair moved to the head, standing between them, and cleared his throat.

“Laird Torrin Gunn, this is Rosalind and her man Ciar,” Ellair said.

“Laird Gunn,” Rosalind said with a slight but respectful bow of her head.

“Lady Rosalind,” Gunn said with a measured and respectful incline of his head.

“Rosalind is fine,” she replied. “I’m nay lady.”

The corner of Gunn’s mouth twitched upward with the faint ghost of a smile, but it was gone as soon as it appeared and his face tightened again. He turned to Ellair.

“So?” he started. “Ye called this meetin’. What is our business here?”

“We wanted this meetin’ tae get us all on the same page.”

“And how can we ever be on the same page after the lady Rosa—apologies—after Rosalind has been weakenin’ our position in the Highlands by doin’ Sinclair’s biddin’?” he asked.

“’Tis nae as if I had much choice,” Rosalind grumbled.

Gunn opened his mouth to respond, his lips curled back in a sneer that told Ellair what he was about to say was going to be derisive and combative.

“’Tis true,” Ellair said before Gunn could say a word. “As I told ye, Sinclair is holdin’ her braither’s life in his hands, forcin’ her tae dae his biddin’.”

“’Tis a choice,” Gunn said. “By workin’ with Sinclair, she’s makin’ a choice.”

“Aye. ‘Tis true,” Ellair said. “But with respect, Laird Gunn, can ye say truly that if the situation was reversed, and Sinclair was holdin’ the life of somebody ye love in his hand, that ye’d nae make the same choice?”

Torrin lowered his gaze and seemed to think about what Ellair had just said. His lips curled downward in a frown and he cut a glance at his advisors, neither of whom seemed to know the answer to his unspoken question. Torrin cleared his throat and looked at Rosalind long and hard, before shifting his gaze to Ellair.

“Nay. I suppose I cannae say I would make a different choice were it one of me kin bein’ held by that bastard,” laird Gunn said, his voice a low rumble.

“Good. ‘Tis good,” Ellair said. “So, we can start these talks from common ground.”

“And what is it we’re here tae talk about?” Torrin said.

“About all of us comin’ taegether and realizin’ we’ve got a common enemy,” Ellair said. “We need tae talk about bandin’ taegether tae fight Sinclair.”

Torrin exchanged looks with his men. None of them seemed overly enthusiastic about the idea of joining together with a woman who had wreaked so much havoc in their lands and weakened their position in the Highlands overall. Ellair was starting to get a sense that Laird Gunn, or at least his men, would opt against working together, that this little summit would prove fruitless, unless he intervened and changed the tide.

“Laird Gunn, Sinclair ordered Rosalind tae seize the last shipment that was headed tae yer lands. She didnae. And she defied Sinclair’s orders kennin’ it could cost her her braither’s his life,” Ellair said, then added. “If ye’d step back and look at this all logically, I think ye’d see that everybody in this room has a lot more in common than what separates us. Nae the least of which, is that we all hate Hugh Sinclair and want tae see his downfall. If we all band taegether, we may be able tae make that happen. But if we stand apart, alone, we dinnae have the strength tae stop him. The stakes have never been higher fer any of us and we dinnae stand taegether, we’re all goin’ tae fall.”

Torrin Gunn looked around, a thousand thoughts moving across his face. He finally nodded, then turned to Rosalind.

“All right. Grab some chairs, some wine, and have somebody cook up some food,” he said. “We’ve got a lot tae talk about. ‘Tis goin’ ae be a long night.”