‘But your father is not. Is it wise to worry over it?’
Jamie was asking if it was worth the risks Alan was taking by speaking of it at all. Gilbert would see such things as treachery. Ironic when treachery was exactly what Alan thought Gilbert might be planning.
‘It may not be, my friend, but wondering, I am, and worrying, I am near to.’ They both drank deeply from their cups before he spoke again. ‘So, what was the talk when Gilbert made the claim instead of his older brother?’
Jamie did not answer directly, he seemed to think about it as though sorting through the words he would parse in reply. But his pause told Alan that there had indeed been talk about it.
‘What you would have expected—your father being the elder, in possession of his mind and able-bodied, would have made the claim. That the elders and clan would have supported him. Surprise when it went the way it did.’
Exactly what he’d expect would have been said.
‘Once it was said and done and Gilbert laid claim, Brodie gave his backing and no one spoke much about it at all.’ Jamie narrowed his gaze at Alan. ‘The better question would be—did you expect your father to claim the chieftain’s seat?’
‘Aye.’
He’d never admitted that to anyone. But these days, all manner of things ignored or unspoken seemed to be examined and heard.
‘And you realise that to do that openly would question your own motives? You might be seen as second-guessing both your father and your uncle.’ Jamie shifted to turn towards him. ‘As though you might be craving it for yourself in the years to come.’
Alan had not considered this before. Truly.
Well, when his friend spoke it aloud, it did have the ring of authenticity. So mayhap the idea, the desire, for such a thing was somewhere deep within him. Had he tamped it down just as he’d tamped down the rage and the desires that seemed to be making themselves known these last weeks? Had he reached the point when he could no longer ignore these needs and this anger?
‘There comes a time when a man must make his stand. For better or worse. In spite of the risks. No matter the outcome. So, my friend,’ Jamie asked as he stood, ‘is this that moment for you? Is this the matter that will force your hand?’
Jamie began walking back towards the cottage, not waiting for his reply. And those words were all Alan could think about the rest of the night. During the long, dark walk back to the keep and throughout the rest of the hours of the night.
* * *
By morning he understood that, nay, this was not his moment. He also knew to the marrow in his bones that the time was coming. With each new piece put into play by his uncle, something stirred within him. With each regret exposed and each desire awakened, he grew closer to that moment.
What it would mean, who would stand by him and who would oppose him, he knew not. But he knew as surely as the sun rose on the next morning that it was growing closer.
* * *
‘Did you know she can read and write?’ Arabella said to him as they ate the noon meal together. ‘Latin as well as Gaelic. I suspect French as well.’ Brodie was not here so the meal was informal.
‘Who can read and write?’ he asked back. Their discussion so far had been about horses and the weather and his parents. Did she refer to his mother’s skills?
‘Mistress MacPherson,’ Arabella said, nodding to the back of the hall where the woman stood.
‘I did not know.’ That was quite an accomplishment for any woman.
‘It does give her some choices that another woman without those skills might not have,’ his cousin informed him. ‘I have asked her to come speak to me.’
‘She told me she is determined to enter the convent, so I am not certain it will make a difference.’
He’d taken a bite of roasted mutton and only noticed the silence when he swallowed it and drank some ale. Turning, he found Bella staring at him with a look of complete and utter astonishment on her lovely face. He reached up and closed her mouth since it hung open now.
‘When didshetellyouthat?’ she asked, sputtering out the words.
‘Cease, Bella,’ he said, reaching for a chunk of bread to sop up the juices on his plate. ‘I went to speak to Jamie when I returned last night and found Mistress MacPherson there. We spoke,’ he said, pausing for a moment to remember the way she looked in the moonlight and how much he’d wanted to kiss her then and there. ‘She told me she was planning to enter the convent...’
Had she ever confirmed her intentions? Alan interrupted them before she could say so. But she had not denied it.
‘That is a strange conversation to have with a stranger,’ she insisted.
‘Well, I am kin of a sort of her kin,’ he said. ‘Not complete strangers.’
