‘I was going to speak to Margaret about moving some of the supplies in the caves. It would be more efficient...’
‘Efficient? For whom?’
‘For the women who oversee them. For the people here who need to use them. For all of you if you need to abandon the camp, as some seem to think will be necessary soon.’ He raised a brow at the last part.
‘You’ve been asking your questions again, lady?’ This time he did not sound so aggrieved at her curiosity.
‘Aye. And I have been listening as your people talk. I have some experience with this,’ she said, gesturing to the boxes and bundles around them. As chatelaine for her father’s estates, she’d worked with their steward doing just this thing.
‘Very well, Arabella. If Margaret agrees, I leave it in your capable hands and hers.’ He stared at her now, as though seeing someone new. Then he began to leave.
She’d not said the most important part. In listening to his people, in watching him, even in being his prisoner, she’d begun to comprehend that there was so much more she needed to know and understand. About this feud. About Caelan’s role in it and Brodie’s. About her part and her future. Arabella lifted her head and straightened her shoulders, meeting his gaze directly.
‘I think I am ready to hear your truth.’
There it was. Boldly and clearly put. Not demanded or angry. Now what would he say? He let out a soft sigh, a sound of utter exhaustion that she was not certain he realised, and then nodded.
‘Join me for the evening meal and we can speak about this. And remember to speak to Margaret about your ideas.’
She smiled and nodded and watched him leave, aware of the effort it took for each step. Something was very wrong with Brodie and if he was not well, she suspected a lack of sleep.
* * *
The rest of the afternoon hours passed slowly and she spent most of it with Margaret, making suggestions and discussing her ideas. By the time the evening meal was ready, Arabella questioned the wisdom in the coming talks with Brodie. It made no sense unless she was willing to listen and believe his words.
The shocking truth she faced first was that she did believe him and trust him. That realisation came to her as she stood outside the cave he’d chosen, with one of Bradana’s friends helping her carry the pot of stew, the loaves of bread and wheels of cheese. She stopped so quickly the other woman nearly dropped everything on the path.
How could she trust him? He had killed her brother and kidnapped her. And yet, deep inside, she knew he would stand by his word and his honour. He’d adopted these people, these exiles, as his own and fought to keep them safe. Against all odds and against all reason, he put them first and was determined to find a way to give them back their homes and their families.
‘Did ye stumble there, lady?’ Nara asked from behind her.
‘Oh, aye, Nara. I beg your pardon for my clumsiness.’ She tried to cover up the hesitation and moved on. The guard called out to Brodie and motioned her inside.
It took a few minutes to set out the pot and bowls on the small table and Nara helped her. Arabella could not help to steal a glance across the chamber to where Brodie stood reading some letter. He nodded in greeting but continued to read as they set out supper. After a quiet thanks to Nara, she waited for him to finish.
And then they were alone.
He put the letter aside and waited for her to sit. Bringing a jug of water with him, he sat and poured some in their cups. Arabella lifted the lid and scooped some of the thick stew into each bowl. He watched as she broke the bread and cheese into smaller pieces between them. Then, they shared the food, eating in a silence that should have been tense and filled with anticipation. Once they’d finished, she collected the leftover food and bowls and made them ready to return to Nara.
She watched as he stood and retrieved the small jug of whisky from his trunk and poured some into each of their cups. Remembering the results of this on Alan, she promised herself she would partake of little. When he did not begin to speak, she asked him about his condition.
‘You look more exhausted than you did when we travelled here. I know you did not get much sleep and yet you never looked like this.’ He smiled and held up his cup in salute to her.
‘You do know how to compliment a man, my lady.’
‘I did not mean... I meant... Why are you not sleeping, Brodie?’ After the words had escaped her mouth she realised how prying and intimate they sounded. She should apologise.
‘I am plagued by dreams.’
‘Bad dreams?’ He nodded. ‘I had bad dreams for many years as a child after my mother passed. Aunt Gillie used to help me sleep by rubbing my forehead and whispering a silly song to me to chase them away.’
‘Did it work?’ He sipped from his cup, his eyes darkening as he stared at her. She nearly forgot the question.
‘Aye, most times.’
‘I will have to remember that.’ He paused and then changed their topic to the one she’d waited for. ‘Arabella, how much do you know about how the feud began?’
‘Broken promises. A lover’s betrayal. Land. Gold. The usual ways a feud begins,’ she said. ‘The Cameron claim of lands near Drumlui was contested by the Mackintoshes. The fighting began and the battles continued over the last four or five generations.’
