“Well. It’s about time you came to welcome me,” she said in greeting, her gaze falling upon the girls. “I suppose that wife of yours has disappeared again.” Her nose wrinkled in distaste.
Alex’s knuckles clenched into a fist, recognizing her baiting. “Laren is involved in another task,” he responded. He gave his mother the required kiss of welcome and bade his girls do the same. Grizel inspected the children but said nothing to them. With his permission, the girls joined Vanora, who was busy blending mortar for the day’s work. They began making towers of stones, staying out of harm’s way.
“Why are you here, Mother?” Alex asked.
“I thought it was my home, if I remember correctly.” She smoothed her skirts and strode forward, her eyes drinking in the sight of the remains. “And since Lord Locharr told me the state of things, I thought I’d best return and help you.”
He doubted if she intended to do anything except criticize, but he kept that opinion to himself.
“I can see that you’ve destroyed everything Tavin worked for.” Her face tightened in a frown.
“The English destroyed it.”
“Only because you were foolish enough to steal that Frenchwoman away from Lord Cairnross.”
“It was a rescue,” he corrected. “Lady Marguerite asked us for sanctuary and we granted it.”
“And you see what that’s brought you.” Grizel waved her hand at the repairs. “Now you’ve wasted time building walls instead of a proper tower. Tavin wouldn’t have wanted this.”
He didn’t waste his breath arguing further. His mother thrived upon conflict and liked nothing better than to engage in a verbal match.
“My Lady Grizel, I’m grateful to see that you’ve returned,” Nairna interrupted them. In a voice as sweet as cream, she continued, “Would you walk with me and we can discuss how we could best use your skills?” Nairna took Grizel’s hand in hers, leading her away from the others.
Alex made a mental promise to gift his brother’s wife with a length of silk, as soon as he could arrange it. If Nairna could keep Grizel occupied, it would make the repairs far easier.
While Nairna retreated with his mother, Alex stared over at the loch. After Laren had returned to the cavern early this morn, he hadn’t seen her since. He didn’t know if she’d remembered to eat or whether she was already caught up in making the glass.
He’d never seen anything like it in all his life. It was like watching sorcery, in the transformation from sand into molten glass. When she’d spun the pipe, putting her breath within the glass, all traces of the shy, quiet wife had disappeared. She’d revealed an inner strength and power, a confidence in her skill.
He hadn’t known that she was capable of such feats, and it made him wonder who the woman he’d married truly was. Because of her glass, she’d brought untold wealth to them, silver coins that would help them rebuild every last stone of Glen Arrin. He was grateful for it, but it meant that she would spend hours of the day away from everyone.
Alex felt torn between his wife and his responsibilities as chief. He worked alongside the people, hour after hour, until he collapsed into his bed at night. And he could foresee no changes in the near future. It exhausted him, just thinking about it.
If she worked on her glass all day and night, would he even see her at all? It was impossible to transform a marriage if they never spent any time together.
Alex lifted a stone and laid it upon the wall, that Callum had spread with mortar. His daughters were laughing as they stacked smaller stones and knocked them down again. He watched them, and their smiles warmed him. Mairin, though only four years old, was starting to look more and more like Laren. He watched as she tightened her lips, adjusting the stack of stones to build it higher.
Her small fingers moved with an exact manner, so careful was she. He moved closer to the girls, kneeling down. “What are you building, Mairin?’
“It’s a castle, just like yours.” She sent a glare toward her younger sister. “But the English keep knocking it down.”
Adaira beamed and pushed the stack over, laughing as it fell into pieces. “Again!” she demanded.
Mairin rolled her eyes, but granted her sister’s wish by building the stack again. While she worked, Alex asked, “Did you know about your mother’s glass?”
His daughter wrinkled her nose. “We’re not supposed to go in the cave. We might burn ourselves if we get too close.” She sent him a tentative smile. “I like the blue glass best. But I have to be a big girl and keep Adaira away from the fires. She’d burn right up. Or the witches might get her.”
Alex hid his smile and said, “You were good to take care of her.” He touched her hair, bringing her into an embrace. Adaira moved in, her small arms joining them. With a tight squeeze, he accepted their affection as the precious gift it was.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“Aye. There’s magic there.” He suddenly thought of the glass droplets he’d given Laren, so many years ago. Had she kept them at all? He hadn’t seen them in so long, he supposed they were gone.
A sudden noise caught his attention from outside the fortress, something that sounded like an approaching horse. “Stay here,” he warned his girls. He crossed the area, moving to the first stone wall that was partially completed. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he looked for the source of the sound.
Nothing. Not a single movement from anywhere. But he knew what he’d heard. And if it were Dougal or another clansman, they’d have revealed themselves. His instincts sharpened and he scanned their surroundings for the invisible threat.
“I’m hungry, Da,” Mairin informed him. “Don’t you think we should eat something?”
