“Ifshe harmed any of them, and we havena any proof she did, they’ve been cared for and are no’ of concern to us. Coira is.”
Hugh, who’d kept silent up to now, leaned forward. “As laird, ye say she is again one of us. Let yer actions speak, then. Make her yer charge. She’ll be yer responsibility, and her actions will reflect directly on ye.”
A chorus of aye’s echoed around the room.
Logen grimaced, but saw no way to avoid the challenge. “Aye, I will. Hear me, then. Any harm done to her is harm done to me, and willna be ignored.” He looked from one side of the table to the other, making certain he had their full attention. “Ye may consider me little more than a fisherman who was made laird by accident, but think on this. I havena survived these long years at sea by being stupid or soft. Ye’ll remember that I beat all comers in training as a lad, and years of hauling nets have only made me stronger. I’m one of the few who walked away from Flodden.” Logen paused to force down the bile that threatened to rise into his throat. Now was no time for those memories. “Our clan has been through troubles, but that time is over. Dinna think to use this lass to stir them up again.”
“Sure of yerself, are ye?” Auld Eric’s voice never wavered.
“Sure enough.” Logen walked to the door and opened it, his meaning plain. “Now that’s clear, we’re done here.”
“For now.”
“Aye, for now.”
He stood by the door, making eye contact with each man as they left the room. He had to appear stronger than he felt at this moment. Their challenges, based on nothing more than speculation and aimed at a lass who had harmed none of them, told him he still had a great deal of work to do to consolidate his position in the clan. His power base was too small, since most were fishermen and too often gone from the keep to back him up in a violent confrontation. This meeting had not come to blows, but his advisors had just raised the stakes. His future was now even less in his control. Coira’s actions, Coira’s acceptance, would make the difference, not only for her future here, but his.
A few of the council nodded as they passed by. A few clapped him on the shoulder before quitting the room. A few glanced quickly away. Aye, he’d keep his eye on all of them, but those last few he would watch most carefully.
Chapter 2
Everywhere she went, Coira could feel the attention on her. Her new sense gained strength each day, making her more sensitive to the moods around her. Simple curiosity reassured her and made her feel like she might stand a chance of becoming accepted. But some people’s anger and suspicion surrounded her like a cloak of needles, pricking her skin and making her bleed from a thousand small wounds. She braved those people as long as she could, smiling and offering no insult, but she moved away from them as quickly as was polite to do so. She could tolerate individuals for a short time, but even small groups pained her. She couldn’t imagine joining the clan in the great hall for the evening meal.
But she could not hide in her chamber forever. Logen had charged her with regaining the clan’s trust and acceptance. To do that, she must find a way to prove she could be a valuable member of the clan.
As penance for her greatest heartache, she spent a part of her day in the nursery with the infants and small children. She didn’t understand how she could have threatened a child, no matter how desperate she was for Toran’s attention or angry that he was sending her away. The person she had been seemed as foreign to her as the highlands had seemed when she first arrived there. But in helping to care for the bairns, she could, in small measure, atone for the awful thing she’d done. She fervently hoped the lass had forgotten, perhaps with Aileana’s help, that horrible night.
The nursemaid, Mhairi, welcomed her help, but there was no doubt some of the mothers did not. As soon as one left, another arrived. Their tension tightened her muscles. Their irritation felt like splinters under her skin. She breathed deeply, fighting to ignore them and remain calm, even cheerful, as she helped Mhairi feed or change or play with her charges.
The littlest bairns would fret until the current mother-guardian’s irritation faded. Coira noticed the infants breathed easier at the same time she did. She wondered if babies were born with the ability to sense the moods of others around them, but lost it as they grew.
Although the effort exhausted her, she was gaining ground with some of the mothers. They no longer glared daggers at her, simply took a seat and turned their attention to their needlework or played with the older children. Coira actually enjoyed those visits.
Her greatest ally so far was a cousin, Elizabeth, who had been a childhood friend before Coira went away, and who started spending time in the nursery with her. When Elizabeth arrived, the latest mother took her leave. Elizabeth and Coira exchanged a glance, then, as the woman exited the room, Elizabeth made a face at her retreating back.
“Watch yerself, lassie,” Mhairi chided softly.
Coira bit back a smile as Elizabeth dropped into the chair, still rocking slightly, that the other woman just vacated.
“She didna see me,” Elizabeth retorted. “And besides, this...parade...of watchers is a waste of time. It’s not like they’re doing anything to help ye, are they?”
Mhairi shrugged. “’Tis no’ their place to do so.”
“Of course it is—these are their bairns, are they no’?”
Mhairi just smiled and Coira relaxed.
“Tell me more about what I’ve missed while I’ve been away. Everything seems to be very...unsettled.”
Mhairi snorted and turned back to playing a game with the smaller children.
Elizabeth set her chair to rocking at a faster pace. “Where to begin? Deaths at Flodden—I suppose ye heard about that?”
“Aye. Who in Scotland hasna?”
“The clan has been working its way through the auld laird’s heirs, one by one. ’Tis no’ a job with much longevity, it seems.”
Coira’s heart clenched. Logen had hinted at such, but it hurt to hear it confirmed.
