Jeannie gazed away past the lad’s head and tried to ignore how his words made her feel. Perhaps her heart still functioned after all, for she felt it twist in her chest.
“In truth,” Danny went on, “I only came to beg some food and clean bandaging. We have naught.”
“I wish you could stay,” Aggie told him, heartfelt. She had kissed Danny soundly when he appeared, and her face shone with gladness. “Of course we shall give you whatever we have. Right, mistress?”
For an instant, Jeannie did not reply. She could easily turn Danny away; she owed Finnan MacAllister nothing. Or she could walk up that hillside as she wished and find him, lay eyes on him, even touch him again. For despite all her anger and pain, and the numbness when both burned away, she did want to see him, even just once. The truth of that upset her almost as much as what had come before, but the honesty in her heart would not let her deny it.
She fought a silent war within herself. She did not deserve what he had done to her. She had never intended to break Geordie’s heart, but she could never convince Finnan of that. He thought the worst of her. Best to leave all connections severed as they were, to let it be done.
“Give Danny whatever you like,” she told Aggie flatly and looked at the lad. “It is fortunate you have come. Will you give your master a message for me?”
Danny nodded cautiously. What did he know? Had Finnan gloated to him about her humiliation? No matter, she had little enough dignity left to lose.
“I have been in touch with his sister. She wishes to meet with him in the hope he may rescue her from her plight. Do you think he would be willing to take her and leave the glen?” Save himself, leave off the warring and the vengeance.
This time Danny shook his head. “Who knows? Anger burns hot in him. But he might leave for a time, if only to keep her safe.”
“Then you and I must decide on a meeting place.” She drew a breath and fought the nearly overwhelming desire to go up that hillside. “I will take word to her, and you take word to him.”
And then, it would be done.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Finnan struggled desperately to clear the buzzing from his head and gather his senses. Just below him lay Jeannie’s cottage, quiet in the drowsy heat of afternoon. He narrowed his eyes and searched for signs of movement but saw none. Had Deirdre already arrived?
His heart clenched at the prospect of seeing her again. He pictured her still as the young girl he had left behind that night so long ago: slim, long-legged, and full of mischief. Ten years and much hard living separated that lass and the woman he now went to meet.
He remembered again that night his father died, his ma waking him to the dim radiance of a taper, tears streaming down her face and terror in her eyes. “You must take your sister and go.” But they had been unable to find Deirdre, and in a panic his mother bade him leave without her.
Finnan had hoped for a time that Deirdre must have fled to the hills, had perhaps seen what befell their father and flown. A wild thing back then, she had spent as much time off and away as he. In his heart he had feared her captured, or dead. Now he knew the truth.
But none of that truly mattered now. His ma and da were long gone, just like the girl his sister had been. The woman he went to meet must be a virtual stranger.
Upon that thought he saw Danny slip from the cottage and sweep the surrounding area with a searching gaze. He came up the slope toward Finnan at a half jog. Finnan, ever cautious, remained under cover until Danny reached him, perspiring and breathless.
“Well?” Finnan asked, barely able to contain himself. He could hardly believe Jeannie had arranged this meeting on his behalf, given what he had done to her. Would he see her also, in his sister’s company? And why had she endangered herself this way to assist him? Was it possible some of the kindness he had seen in those blue eyes had been genuine?
“There is a place just south of here your sister used to call ‘the castle.’ Aggie says your sister awaits you there now.”
The castle. In truth, it was no more than a ruined dwelling of tumbled ancient stones. “She used to play there, did Deirdre.” His heart rose for the first time in days.
“She bids you go alone. But, Master Finnan, I will follow along on the heights and keep watch.”
“Good lad.” Finnan clasped Danny’s shoulder. “And Mistress MacWherter?” The words slipped out before he could halt them. “How does she fare?”
Danny hesitated and then said, “Glad, I think, that she could help to arrange this. Best go, Master Finnan. And have a care.”
****
Finnan felt stronger as he slipped down the shoulder of the glen. Here, beyond the ford, the burn widened to a loch that met the sea, and there stood the heap of stones, some still piled atop one another but leaning perilously. The scene looked impossibly peaceful; bees hummed in the gorse, and only the bracken moved, tossed by a gentle breeze. His glen seemed very bonny and devoid of danger.
Then he saw her. She stepped out from beneath the stone arch into the sunlight, which caught her hair in a blaze of red and, just like that, he knew her. His heart clenched again in his chest, and the intervening years seemed to melt away. He remembered…
The two of them barely a year apart in age, sharing laughter and silliness, climbing trees and teasing one another, planning mad midnight escapades and adventures, back when life had been good, when he had felt safe.
Now he only felt safe with a sword in his hand.
Or in Jeannie MacWherter’s arms.
