Sometimes a person, a man, would strike out rather than waiting to be struck himself. Robena thought this was Struan’s way now, for everyone here knew of his own son’s cruelty, and that Robena had been one of his victims—if a whore could be considered as such. Watching him now, she thought that their encounters only served to remind Struan of the terrible sins his now-deceased son had committed, which he had failed to stop. Something not many men would wish to remember or dwell upon.
She did not say a word more, for he was laird, and no one, especially not the village whore, could naysay him and escape unpunished. Even Rob’s intercession would not save her if Struan was intent on doing something. So, she did what a good whore would do—she bowed her head and made herself as small and unthreatening as possible as she walked the few paces left between her and the doors.
The winds caught her as she ran, past the stables, past the yard and out through the gate, toward the village. She did not stop until she reached her cottage and slammed the door closed. Leaning against it, she could not keep the tears from flowing.
The Lady Anice’s words about challenging the boundaries of her life had shaken Robena in a way that surprised her. With no chance at children of her own, she had begun helping other women to birth theirs. The knowledge that Alesander’s attack had taken that possibility from her bothered her more and more with each passing year. At least her own mother had had Robena—for company, for help, for something to pass on after her death. Robena could have nothing, no one, like that.
She’d fought off the growing despair as the years passed, but it was getting harder to do it. She found joy, or rather enjoyment, where and with whom she could, and tried to ignore the deep sense of emptiness at the core of her soul. The thing that frightened her most was not that she’d lost her purpose, but that she was losing her hope for a life fulfilled.
He never sawthe blow coming.
One moment Iain was dodging Rob’s punches and deflecting the strikes of Rob’s staff without much effort at all, and the next, Iain was eating the dirt of the yard. Loud laughter and raucous insults rang out across the yard at his defeat. His boasting that had preceded their bout did not help him now as he stood and brushed the dirt off his face and spat it from his mouth.
“What happened, old man?” Rob asked, smacking Iain on his back. “Ye said ye would triumph this time.” The knowing look in his eyes told Iain that his friend knew exactly what had happened. And, damn him, Rob would be right.
Just as he had positioned himself for that final attack, Iain had seen Robena come running out of the keep like Satan himself was chasing her. Head down, she did not look up or about as she ran past them and everyone else who had tasks or duties inside the walls. He’d turned his gaze to follow her path, and Rob had struck him down. He did not care that he lost, for it had happened before and would again, but he did care that something had happened to her within.
“What do you think happened?” he asked Rob. His friend did not deny witnessing her flight from the hall.
“Anice was headed to yer chamber with her clothing when I left her,” Rob explained.
That could not be the reason, for Anice had accepted Robena’s place in the clan and allowed her entrance into the hall when she wished. He shrugged.
“I dinna ken. But I do not like the way she ran away.”
“Ye can find out the reason later,” Rob said. “I’m guessing she willna join us for supper.”
“Though she is willing to do anything I ask of her”—he paused at Rob’s raised brow—“thatis the one thing she will not do.” Iain let out his breath and shook his head.
“She keeps to herself, Iain. Well, she keeps to her own matters, and helps out the midwife when needed. Anice has gotten her to take meals in the hall only three times that I can remember. I rarely speak to her because she fears someone might think the wrong thing.” Rob had grown up with her. Run wild as children with her. Loved her . . .
“And she wants for nothing?” he asked. How could a woman be part of a clan, part of a village, and yet not be?
When Rob did not answer him, Iain glanced over to find his friend staring at him, his gaze narrow and direct.
“Why does this concern ye? She is here for yer comfort on yer visits. Why does the rest of her life matter to ye, as long as ye are not inconvenienced when ye are paying yer coin for her time?”
Iain could not explain his reaction then. Without warning he swung at Rob and knocked him back on his heels. Not giving him a chance to rebound, Iain swung again and again until Rob finally fought back. The sounds of the crowd gathering and shouting faded as he threw himself into this battle. This time he gave as good as he got against his younger opponent, and when he tackled Rob and held him down, the rage or confusion cleared and he saw the smirk on his friend’s face.
He pulled back his arm to deliver the final blow and realized that this had been the purpose of Rob’s words—to make him understand the truth of the matter.
It did matter. It did concern him. She concerned him.
“God damn ye to hell, Rob,” he said as he pushed himself off Rob and stood, brushing the dirt from his hands. “Ye ken.”
“She matters to ye, does she not?” Rob asked quietly, blowing hard from the exertion of the fight. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and spit. “Do ye wonder why?”
“Do not push this, Rob.” Iain turned away then, unwilling to show his uncertainty to his friend.
They turned as someone called out. Brodie, Rob’s other childhood friend and now one of his most loyal warriors, walked towards them. Iain thought to escape, but the man’s information kept him there. Something had happened at the mill that needed Rob’s attention. As Rob called out orders, Iain decided to join them.
Physical labor had helped him sort through his dilemmas in the past, so he added his name to the group being sent to see to the matter. Within an hour, they were mounted and riding out of the keep towards the west.
And, in spite of Rob’s sly smile when Iain asked, he arranged to send a message to Robena about his absence.
Aye, she matters, he thought as he rode with the others towards the mill.
5
