“I disbelieve ye because ye were always doing her bidding. Ye never wanted us to form an alliance with the Buchanans, och we needed to so we could survive. Many clans go against us now. Did ye go against my wishes?” Laird MacLaren shouted each word and his voice thundered through the hall. His son tried to gain his release but was unable to and then his father grabbed his throat and squeezed. “Ye will tell me the truth now.”
Breckin was astounded by their interaction. It appeared the elder had no regard for the younger and the younger had no respect for the elder. Stunned, he could do nothing but wait to see what would happen. It only took a brief moment before the son cried out.
“Aye, aye, it was me. I broke the almighty covenant that ye sought. I had to because we do not have to be at the Buchanan’s mercy. We can make our way and have always done so. Besides, Danella did not want to marry Breckin and begged me to help her out of it. She wanted to marry William and she pleaded with me to try to persuade Marian to accept me, but I could not. Marian suspected ourtreachery and told me so. Danella and I…we formed a plan.”
John MacLaren shoved his son and he fell on his backside, staring up at his father. The younger MacLaren said, “Danella came the other day and said that the Buchanans intended to infiltrate our clan and sought war with us. With our recent fracases, our soldiers’ numbers are depleted and I told Danella that we might not be able to withstand a battle.”
John bellowed, “So ye sent your sister to murder the Buchanan laird?”
“Nay, nay, I told her to go and speak to Breckin…that he might take her word that she wanted to marry William, not him, and that maybe he would understand,” the younger MacLaren shouted.
“This recent event, Breckin, might be down to me. I might’ve said something about your angst about her taking me for her husband and that it might cause a war.” William approached John MacLaren. “Breckin is my comrade and I never would have gone against him if I had known that ye did not break the betrothal. This has all been deceitfully designed by your children. I am no longer aligned with ye, MacLaren. Your daughter’s corpse is outside the walls. She died because of her and your son’s own duplicity. I refuse to tend to her as I would a true wife.” William spat on the floor in front of John MacLaren, then turned to Breckin. “Buchanan, when ye wish, come and see me. We will talk about a possible alliance.” With that, William left the hall.
Breckin stood with his arms folded over his chest. He wasn’t sure what to say. The MacLaren children caused the strife and he did not want to bring trouble to MacLaren. Not really. Not if he had no hand in the attacks that had nearly killed him and Eva. Now that his daughter was dead, it seemed Marian’s death had been revenged; both of them had lost beloved women. Beyond that, John had been a close comrade to his father which was why the betrothal had been created in the first place.
John paced before the fire and glared at his son. “I know not how to make amends for this. In time, I shall make recompense for your understanding and for bringing my daughter’s body home. Though she does not deserve it, we shall bury her with her mother. As to my son, he shall be stripped of any authority.”
“I want no further trouble, John. If I let ye be, I expect the same.”
“Ye will have no trouble from me.”
“Let that then be the end of this.” Breckin nodded to him and turned away. His body tensed with the pressure of the situation but when he reached the outside, he gulped air. It was done. Now he knew why Danella attacked him, why her brother had broken the betrothal, and especially knew that their father had been completely unaware of their traitorous acts.
“Laird, are we done here?” Gideon asked.
“Aye, we are finished. Call the men to retreat and let us head home.” He had promised his wife he would return to her quickly, and he intended to make good on that vow. Perhaps, now that he knew his sister’s soul resided in Heaven and didn’t need his sacrifice to be released from Hell, he might even be able to promise that he’d stay home for good.
Chapter Twenty-Three
For nearly asennight, Eva rested, ruminated about what happened at the torch with Danella, and prayed that Breckin didn’t hold extreme wrath against his enemies. Or they, him.
Surely, after all their losses, it was best not to add to others’ despair or even their own. The thought of others being killed because of a woman’s selfish acts clutched at her heart.
Now, somewhat healed and definitely stronger, Eva retrieved a tartan to wrap around herself. She wanted to get outside for a short spell. She’d decided that she’d been cooped up long enough. Now that she was on the mend, she needed to get back to her routine—which somewhat baffled her. In truth, she had no responsibilities to keep her to task. The longhouse had been tidied by Clara after the lads spent most mornings in the kitchen area learning how to make meals. She smiled to herself at their folly but was impressed that they cared enough to learn to cook.
Outside, she walked aimlessly toward the bridge but then stopped at the stable to see Alton. Inside the stable, the darkened lane led her to her horse’s stall. Eva had yet to name the mare, but she was a beautiful honey-colored shire mare with white specks on her coat. “What shall we call you, hmm?” She petted the soft hair on the horse’s nose.
“Milady, good day. She’s a fine mare, there… Ye having trouble naming her?”
“I was thinking of naming her Starlight because of her speckles. I shall think about it some more. Where are the horses kept for Connor and Caden?”
Alton waved his hand toward the exit of the stable. “They be occupied in the pen outside.”
She smiled and looked to see the lads in the paddocks beyond. Caden was cantering his horse barebacked, while Connor was sitting backward on his horse and watching his brother with enthusiasm while his horse munched, disinterested and unconcerned, on some hay. “I’m hoping that soon they will teach me to ride, now that I am healed.” She sighed. “I suppose Breckin has not returned?”
“Nay, I am sorry, Milady. None of the soldiers have returned as yet.”
“I shall go then and visit Willa. Maybe she could use a hand.” Eva smiled at the man as she passed him and left the stable.
By the time she reached Willa’s cottage, Eva’s stride had quickened. Being outside agreed with her and made her feel strong. Before long, she would be back to her usual walks. Now she approached the healer’s door and knocked, then waited for the woman to answer.
Willa opened the door and smiled. “Good day, Milady. Come inside. I just heated a good batch of mead and welcome the company. We shall partake of it together. I should check your wound too and ensure ye are healing properly.”
She stepped through the threshold and breathed deeply. “It smells so good in here.”
“’Tis the sweetened honey, aye, for it is ripe and ready. This is my best batch of mead in a good long time. Sit.” While Eva did so, Willa set cups on the table and took a cloth to take hold of the warm pitcher. She poured them each a helping and rounded the table. With gentleness, she shifted the material of her overdress and inspected Eva’s shoulder.
“How is it? Does it look ghastly?” Eva drew in a resigned breath, hoping that the wound wasn’t gruesome.
