Page 14 of Heart of the Highlands: The Rose (Protectors of the Crown #6)
Aiden had been away from home for only a few days, yet it felt like an eternity. Upon his return, he was warmly welcomed by his clansmen, who assumed his absence was tied to clan business. Unbeknownst to them, he had confronted peril and safeguarded them from impending threats. It was Aiden's solemn vow to ensure they remained unaware. As Laird, he embraced his noble duty to protect his people.
He vowed to rise above his grandfather's legacy and lead with a greater sense of purpose and integrity. He’d gone through all the paperwork and could not figure out how his grandfather had fallen so far behind in debt or where the silver had gone.
Thomas Rose had led their clan through wars, plagues, and peace for over forty years, brilliantly at that. He shouldn’t have been concerned about the clan’s wealth. The land was profitable, and there hadn’t been a storm large enough to damage the crops.
What, then, had changed?
He rose from his chair and crossed the floor to the wooden chest in the small alcove of the room near a large oak bookshelf. He lifted the hinged lid and emptied the coffer, placing a large handful of silver coins in a brown leather satchel. He tied the satchel to his belt. He’d need it for assurance in case Ian’s diplomatic strategy did not succeed.
“How’s it going?” Trey asked as he stepped into the room.
Aiden rubbed his tired eyes. “I feel defeated. I have gone through these ledgers, and nothing makes sense. Nothing. I must find the contract with Laird Munro. That, at least, will stop the Munros from seizing our land. But even that will not shield us from the others who will undoubtedly come seeking their own dues. And it will not satisfy the other debts our grandfather had made.”
“He changed the last two years. He’d leave for weeks, sometimes months. God only knows where he’d gone, and when he’d return home, he went on about his day as if his absence had no bearing. Some days, he didn’t even know where he was. He often was confused. To see a powerful mon, grow so weak in such a short time. It was heartbreaking. He should have given up his seat as chief long before his death.” Trey took a seat in the chair opposite of Aiden across the desk. His expression was grim. “So, how do we fix this?”
“Just as we planned. I will marry Bella De LaCroix. Her dowry is a substantial amount. At least enough to pay off these debts. And then from there, we will rebuild.”
“I will come wit’ ye. Ye have my support, cousin. We will no’ let Laird Munro get away wit’ this. But what of the lass? Ye cannae betray yer heart. I saw the way ye looked at her, and she at ye. Christ’s sake, Aiden, she’s the woman from yer painting. I didn’t say anything before, but that has got to mean something.”
“I have made my decision. Tomorrow, I will travel back to Inverness and make my intentions known.”
Trey nodded in understanding. He stood and walked toward the door, stopping inside the door frame.
“Ye know, there were so many times Thomas blamed yer father for yer mother’s death. He said he should have been a husband at home taking care of his wife instead of commanding a ship on the water. Thomas had to watch his only daughter die alone. But Lily's love and bond with yer father was worth losing everything for.”
Trey’s words peeled open old wounds. But he was not wrong. He spoke the truth, and the recognition of it stung deeply. The love his parents had for each other was something only written in fairytales.
Time, however, was not on his side. It was running out like watching sand bleed through the narrow vein of an hourglass—slowly but unstoppable.
The last speck of wick flickered out, leaving Aiden to sit in total darkness. He hadn’t bothered replacing the candle stub with a new taper, nor had he had time to add another log to the hearth to keep the embers aflame. He found a copy of the contract he'd been looking for documents in the back of the disorganized desk drawer. Its pages crumbled but were still legible. He set it on top of another vital contract. Bella and Andre De LaCroix already signed the marriage contract, and his cousin Trey was a witness. His signature was missing before it was presented to the church.
Securing the documents in his hand, he picked up the bottle of whisky left on the edge of his desk and brought them to his chamber, sitting them on his bedside table. He would get the documents to Inverness tomorrow and present them to the council. Tonight, he would rest both his weary muscles and his weary heart.
He tried hard to push thoughts of Abby aside, keeping his thoughts on the days before their encounter as if they’d never met. He had lived without her before; he could live without her again.
It was better this way, and that was what she wanted. She had made it clear that she did not want him by practically forcing his decision to marry Bella. He would honor her wishes.
With a fire set ablaze in the hearth, Aiden sat on the edge of his bed. Whisky in hand, he drowned his sorrows. Images of Abby flooded in his head, a bittersweet reminder of what he had lost, spurring him to take another deep sip, then another until the bottle had run dry.
His head pounded, and the whisky went down too smoothly, creating a ball of anger to build inside him, restless and uncontained. He was hurting, and he fought it.
This was not the life he imagined. Faced with an arranged marriage, the stress and pressures of a chieftain, the financial turmoil left behind by his grandfather, and the rising tension between rival clans, all this made his life as a warrior seem more tolerable. His life now was no longer his own. His choices were now no longer his own and his freedom gone.
Aiden’s fingers clutched around the neck of the bottle. His pulse hammered in his ears. He shot to his feet, the force of the movement unsettling, unable to contain the chaos raging within him. With a roar of frustration, he swung his arm, every muscle taut with the force of his fury, and hurled the bottle into the hearth. It exploded on impact. Shards of glass scattered across the floor. He stood there, chest heaving, heart pounding in his throat, as the fire crackled in the aftermath. Aiden's hands were still trembling as he raised them, burying his face in his palms.
His silence was broken when the door flew open and two guards entered the room, swords raised, ready to defend their laird.
“My laird, are ye alright?” one of them asked as they scanned the room.
“Aye,” Aiden assured them. “Please have Eira come upstairs to clean this mess.”
“I am already here, my laird,” she said slipping into the room and observing the glass shards on the floor. “Good heavens. Let me fetch a broom.” Once the guards decided there was no intrusion, they returned to their stations as Eira began picking up the large pieces of glass from the floor. “When the embers cool, I will clean out the hearth and replace the logs.”
“Thank ye Eira.”
“My laird, if I may speak freely, having ye here has given us hope for a better future. They are counting on you during these uncertain times. The men, yer people, look to ye for strength and guidance. And when the time comes, they will stand behind ye.”
Aiden felt her words. Though she was young, Eira spoke with confidence and wisdom beyond her years. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled.
Once the room was clean and back in order, Aiden picked up the documents from the bedside table and placed them in his satchel. As he lifted them up, a small, crumbled piece of paper fell to the floor. Aiden bent down to pick it up and see what it was. He turned it over, recognizing it as the list of ladies his grandfather wished him to marry. Just as he was about to set it down, he stopped when something caught his attention.
Lady Abigail Sinclair
It was written right there, at the bottom of the page. The last and only woman on that list he had not invited to his home. How different events would have changed had he only had the patience to meet one more? But in his hasty decision and with much disappointment, he dismissed his grandfather’s letter and decided upon marrying Bella.
Too many circumstances, too many coincidences to overlook. His grandfather added Abby to that list for a purpose. Was this Fate's way of guiding them together once more?