“Struan haes called me back to Dunnedin. Dougal is ill and is no’ expected to live.”
“Will ye go?” Her voice quivered with fear.
“Aye. He’s my laird—I must follow his command.” That was the safest approach—the claim of duty.
“Oh, pish. I ken too much of the sad tale to believe that ’tis the only reason ye go to Dunnedin. Tell me what I dinna ken.”
“Since this will be but a temporary stay, I thought...” Robert hesitated to put into words his deepest desire.
“Ye thought what, my boy?” Ada looked at his face, looked deep into his eyes, discerning the truth before he spoke it.
“I hoped to get to ken my true faither.”
“Nay, Robert, ye hope that yer real faither will acknowledge his natural son afore the clan.”
He could only nod at her insight. His eyes and nose burned with the unshed tears of that lost boy. His throat tightened, making it impossible to speak. The feelings of the fifteen-year-old, almost a man but still a boy, confronted with the truth of his birth washed over him again. Disbelief, denial,anger. Pain and humiliation. For himself, for his mother, and for Dougal.
“I canna say how things will go but ye have no choice in the return. Please, Robert, do no’ set yerself up for disappointment. Go and see what comes yer way.”
He nodded agate at her words. The tightness was passing; he swallowed deeply to clear his throat. “I will try, Ada.” His voice was low and gruff, filled with more feelings than he would admit.
“Remember, the MacKillop awarded ye the position ye hold because of yer skills. Ye will always have a place here.”
“Aye, Ada, I will remember that.” He paused and looked at her. She was worrying for him and not about herself. “But who will care for ye while I am gone?”
“Ah, my boy”—she reached up and caressed his face—”I was here afore ye came and will be here after ye leave. I, too, have a place here that no one will take away. I will wait for yer return.”
He stood and helped her to her feet. They walked arm in arm down the hallway that paralleled the great room until they reached the stairs. His room, suitable for the castellan, was on the second floor. Hers, on this lower floor, with the other women of the keep.
“I willna see ye go so I give ye leave now. Send for me if I can be of service to ye in yer duties for the clan MacKendimen. I will await yer return, Robert. Godspeed go with ye.”
He leaned down to her and pressed his lips to her weather-and age-roughened cheek. Stepping away, their eyes made contact for a moment, and more was said without words. They turned from each other and he ran up the tower steps.
He feared his next farewell would not be as easy.
If this one could be called that.
The fire burnedlow in the brazier in the corner, casting rippling shadows on the walls. Robert walked to the window and peered through the thick glass. Frosted over by the frigidair outside and the warmer air inside, he slid his finger around in the moistness on the surface. Duncan had spared no expense with this inner tower. Glass filled the windows in the private chambers as well as the large solar. No skins over the openings for the laird of the MacKillops!
Although just as rich, and higher in rank than Duncan was, the laird of the MacKendimens didn’t spend his money on his own comfort. Unless he had changed it, Struan’s chamber was a plain one—containing only the furniture the laird needed. Struan balked at tapestries on the walls, rich rugs underfoot. The laird used all his riches for the betterment of the clan. None in the village went hungry or cold. A place and a keeping was found for any and all in the clan. Struan saw to the survival of his people first.
Struan was a good leader for his clan, a man to be proud of, to be admired. Struan was... his father.
Even the thought hurt. The pain of the truth still haunted him, pain made worse by the truth having been kept secret by those who knew. Hated by the father who raised him and denied by the man who fathered him. Mayhap going back into the fray was not the best of ideas. But, as he told Ada, he had no choice. His honor demanded he obey the call from Dunnedin.
A rustling of the bedcovers broke his concentration. He turned back and saw Helena sitting in his bed, her long blond hair flowing over her naked breasts. His body stirred in reaction to the inviting pose she struck.
“Robert, I was waiting for ye but fell asleep. Come, ’tis late.” Helena pushed back the covers, exposing more very comely naked limbs to his view.
Pulling his shirt over his head, he accepted her invitation. She settled into his arms and he covered them both with the heavy woolen plaids. He felt her leg slide over his and the warmth of her body spread through his own as she lay curled up at his side.
“Will ye be gone for long?” Her soft voice broke into the comfortable silence of the chamber.
“I dinna ken how long.” He would be honest with her; he had always been so.
“Will ye come back?” She tilted her head back, watching his face as he answered.
“I do no’ plan to stay in Dunnedin. I will come back.”
