As she stepped toward her cousin, she tried to guess his thoughts, but his impassive expression let on nothing. Catherine marveled at how much Andrew had changed since that raid. She’d once been able to read his thoughts merely by looking in his eyes, but he kept his own counsel now, and at times, it felt like she encountered a stranger.
“Do you still wish to ride?” Andrew’s question was cautious, but Catherine caught the concern.
“I’m all right, Óg.” Catherine steeled herself against looking in the direction Rab walked and forced a smile. “I think it would be nice to escape the castle for a while.”
Andrew nodded, relieved to be leaving a place he loathed on the best of days, but was now a place where his memories haunted him in his waking hours. He couldn’t cast his eyes on Rab without picturing his mother and sisters as he helped lower them into the ground at their burials. He guided Catherine into the stables and helped saddle her horse before tending to his steed. Once he helped her mount, the MacFarlanes clattered across the bailey and out through the castle gates.
Catherine watched Andrew from the corner of her eye, his somber expression only creating more curiosity among their guards. She’d ordered the men, with her eyebrow cocked and lips pursed, to stand at a distance from the door. The men had known better than to test her, all familiar with her renowned stubbornness. It was the best Catherine could do to offer Andrew and Rab privacy, even if she didn’t include herself in that. She prayed Andrew might confide in her once they reached a place to let the horses rest.
Chapter 2
“Catherine.” Andrew swept his gaze over the riverbank and the men tending their horses. He guided Catherine a few yards upstream, his back to the guardsmen, both to ensure their conversation didn’t carry and because he trusted the men to protect them from anything approaching from behind. He spared a moment to lock eyes with Catherine before continuing to survey their surroundings. “He apologized.”
“I know,” Catherine admitted.
“You listened. How much did you make out?”
“Most, I think. Sometimes he was too quiet to even know if he spoke, but I’m guessing he did.”
“He asked me to keep his confidence, and I will. Even from you, so you can cease thinking you will get me to tell you.” Andrew watched as Catherine scowled. While she hadn’t appeared eager, he understood how her mind worked, and he knew she was desperate to know. He’d seen how the pair gazed at one another, and he’d sensed the tenderness in their embrace. He remembered the brief time when even he had hoped something might come of Catherine and Rab’s friendship. It was those memories and his concern for his cousin that kept him from sharing the gruesome parts of Rab’s confession. “He was right to ask you to leave. I don’t fault him for not wanting you to know. I will say that he ensured his cousins met the end they deserved, but I won’t tell you any more.”
“Does that mean you forgive him?”
“Catherine, I never blamed him. He has never been the type of mon to do what his cousins did. That doesn’t mean I don’t hold him and his father responsible. That he carried out his father’s sentence, even to his own blood, may speak to his honor. But where is that honor in the rest of his clan? That is a failure in his and his father’s leadership. That any member of his clan dared go against his father’s orders speaks louder than words.”
“You’re a hypocrite.”
“Catherine—”
“Nay. Your sins weren’t as heinous as those MacLarens, but you defied your father, our laird, and you know it. Mòr is still angry at you for your part in that bluidy bet. Should your choices reflect on me since I’m your kin any more than those men’s choices reflect on Rab? You acted of your own free will, as did those beasts.”
“And where is your loyalty?” Andrew seethed, angrier at Catherine than he had ever been. “You’d side with him.”
“I side with my family as much as you do, but Mòr didn’t think he needed tell you not to help kidnap Laurel, but you did. I doubt Caelan or Rab thought they needed to tell their kin not to rape and murder our family.”
“It’s not the same. Not even by half.”
“I didn’t say it was the same, but it is similar. You’re a hypocrite to hold Rab responsible when you don’t hold your father responsible for your shite choices.”
“My shite choices didn’t get anyone killed!” Andrew barked.
“They nearly did. Laurel and I were never friends. I don’t even like her, and I doubt she likes me. But I still learned how close she came to being poisoned by the MacDougall brothers and then murdered when the Lamonts attacked. You had a hand in that.” Catherine glanced down. “Rab’s right; I don’t know how you came away with both of them still attached.”
“You’re defending him. That’s unconscionable, Catherine.”
“Him. The single mon. Not his clan. Not his father. Not whattheydid to our family.” None of the MacFarlanes spoke the names of the three men who devastated their clan and their lives. It was a tacit agreement, and Catherine didn’t even want to think about them. “Does your piss-poor choice make Mòr a failed leader, a laird unable to control his clan? No. No more than it means Caelan is a failed laird and Rab is a useless tánaiste.”
“And because I am our clan’s tánaiste, you hold me in contempt, even though you can only claim the “could haves” and “might haves” to my choices. We know whattheydid.”
“Óg, I have never held you in contempt. I don’t. I’m hurt and angry, too. Blood might say Aveline was only my aunt and Fia and Greer were only my cousins, but my heart has always felt they were my mother and sisters. I have prayed many nights for God’s wrath to wipe those men from the earth. But even without running into Rab again, I didn’t blame him or Caelan. God gave mon free will, and it is each of us who chooses our own sin. My fear is the retribution you and Mòr plan. You will never tell me, but I can’t help believing it will come.” Catherine stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Andrew’s waist even though he didn’t return her embrace. “I don’t want to lose you and Mòr. I would have no one left in this world who I love as I do my family. I just want you to realize that you can exact a pound of flesh from the MacLarens, but you can’t have it all. I’m scared, Óg.”
Andrew embraced Catherine, and they both sighed. They didn’t always get along, but he understood what she meant. And he understood her fears. He knew Rab was right about what could have happened if Catherine were home at Inveruglas Isle during the attack, and his father had nearly died trying to reach his wife. Had Catherine and his father died too, it would have left him in the very position Catherine described.
“You say what I need to hear but rarely want to.” Andrew kissed Catherine’s forehead. “I will wait for King Robert’s judgment. I respect Rab’s decision to speak to me and his decision to carry out his cousins’ punishment. But seeing that plaid only reignites anger and pain that may never go away.”
“That’s all I want, Óg. Wait for the king. Don’t wage a war against Rab. Let the Bruce pass his judgment on the clan rather than you doing it to the mon.”
* * *
