“And this is Ivor Sinclair,” Eithne told her sister. “He’s…he…”
“I’m a mercenary, Miss Kinnear, nae more,” Ivor told her with a little bow.
“Much more,” Eithne argued. “He saved me life. He was one of Killian’s closest friends, Myrna, and he stormed our keep to save me single-handedly.”
“Och, ye escaped by yerself,” Ivor said, but he was smiling. “And ye saved me in return.”
Myrna looked between them questioningly. She gave Eithne a look, which Eithne replied to with a slight shrug. Eithne wasn’t ready to divulge the exact details of the relationship she’d formed with Ivor with her sister yet.
Nae when I’m nae even sure what that relationship is or if it will ever be the same now I’m here.
“Well, any friend of Killian’s is a friend of mine,” Myrna said eventually. “Welcome, Ivor, and thank ye for me sister. Will ye stay with us a while?”
Eithne’s throat caught as she waited for his answer. It felt like a breath of air in her longs when he said, “Aye, for a few days or a week. I want to make sure Eithne settles alright, and I need to see what happens with that lad as well.”
“Perfect,” Myrna said. “Well, I’m to take Eithne to me Laird uncle now, and me cousins. I can get someone to show ye to one of the rooms or—”
“Nay. I want him to come with us,” Eithne interrupted. Both of them looked at her in surprise, but Eithne stayed firm. “He deserves to be there. He lost family too when Killian died, and he did everything and sacrificed a lot to get me here. I want him with me.”
Eithne watched the expressions on Myrna and Ivor’s face. The former looked surprised, then slowly relaxed into a too-knowing smile. The latter, however, was once more inscrutable. He was gazing at her in a way he never had, ever since she said the word “family.”
Well, he did. I dinnae ken their whole history…but I ken that the one person who’ll miss Killian like Myrna and I will is the same one who got me here safely.
* * *
Ivor didn’t like Laird MacDonnell. Something about the man was off, and it set Ivor’s teeth on edge as he stood back in the corner of the room, watching the sisters talk to their uncle.
Stop it, Ivor. Ye’re just upset to be handing Eithne off.
“…and then we arrived here with Callum, and yer stablehand took our horse and, well, here we are,” Eithne finished. She’d just finished describing a detailed – if somewhat censored – version of their travels, starting from the moment she had sent Myrna away to come here.
The Laird didn’t say anything for a long time. Eventually, he said in a tone that Ivor did not understand, “It sounds like ye’ve had quite the adventure. Especially since ye met up with this…mercenary.”
Ivor heard the tinge of disgust in the man’s voice and simply smiled at him, baring his teeth like a lion. He had neither the time nor the patience for veiled insults.
Eithne cleared her throat. “I hoped Ivor might stay a few days…”
“Of course,” Laird MacDonnell replied grandly. “Any friend of yers, me niece, is a friend of mine. Mr. Sinclair is welcome to any of our guest rooms.
“And Callum?” Ivor asked roughly. He had surprised himself with how much affection he already felt for the strange, lost boy and his dog. Perhaps it was because his trusting nature reminded him of another child, one he’d let down so long ago.
“Callum is our vassal, which means he’s more than welcome to stay until we find better lodgings for him,” Myrna said before the Laird could say a word. She smiled at Ivor. “And if ye want to stay longer for any reason, Mr. Sinclair…”
Eithne nudged her hard in the ribs with her elbow, and Ivor smiled. It was clear that the nature of his and Eithne’s relationship was no secret from Myrna, at least.
“Just Ivor is fine,” he said. “And…thank ye, but I cannae stay longer than a few days. I have to keep moving.”
That’s me penance for failing me sister all those years ago.
He saw the sadness flicker across Eithne’s face at that but tried his best to ignore it. This was where she needed to be. He loved her – that was indisputable; he loved her more than he’d ever known possible. He’d give anything to see her every morning, to laugh with her, to see her swell with his child…but that wasn’t his life.
Eithne would stay here. Ivor would go. It was as simple and as terrible as that.
“Well,” the Laird said. “Ye’re certainly welcome until such time as ye must leave.”
Ivor nodded his head in thanks but didn’t speak.
The Laird turned back to his nieces. “Eithne, ye’ve lived through a lot. Rory MacDuff is more powerful than I could have ever imagined. We will, of course, have a funeral for me sister, nephew, and brother-in-law here, or at least a ceremony to remember them by.”
