“Ye will follow her orders as if they come from me. My first order for ye is that ye will all help her become accustomed to our village and our ways. Ye will all be able to speak to yer new lady—tomorrow and in the days to follow. For now, enjoy yer meal and allow us to do the same. ’Twas a long trip from Rose.”
Those who’d stood resumed their seats on benches placed around the fire and large cooking pot. Erik introduced her to the clan’s cook, who stood ladling stew into bowls for them. “’Tis very hot, my lady. Have a care and let it cool a wee,” he advised.
She estimated he was at least of an age to be Erik’s father. Perhaps he was part of the council of elders. Did Ross have one? She hadn’t thought to ask. He looked the part, though he also seemed more affable than the old men who served the Rose laird.
Fiona nodded. “Thank ye. I will do so. Though I’m famished enough to make waiting a challenge.”
“Ye’ll no’ enjoy a scalded mouth,” Erik interjected. “Come, sit and learn a few faces and names, if ye will.”
Fiona thanked the cook again and moved to the bench Erik indicated, one left empty for them as others shifted around upon their arrival.
“That miscreant there,” Erik said, nodding in the direction of another tall, dark-haired man about his same age who stood to eat outside the circle of benches, “is my tanist, my second in command, Tormod. Ye can trust and depend on him.”
“He’ll be a good resource for me, then. I do wish to meet with everyone to talk about what they need, what the village needs, and who has skills to help make improvements, so I can learn how my skills will fit in.”
Erik dipped a spoon into his stew and tested the temperature with a small sip. “No’ yet,” he advised. “That is a sound idea to start. Learn as much as ye can, but promise naught until ye talk with me. We’ve much to do, and ’twill go better if we have a plan we build together as a way forward rather than working at cross-purposes.”
“I agree wholeheartedly. Who else then, should I ken first?”
Quietly, Erik went around the circle, naming the members of his council, others in the clan, then adding several who were not at the evening fire. “Two lads are fostered away. Since we just arrived, Tormod will ken where the others are. The lasses are likely tending their younger siblings. The bairns are already put to bed,” he said, guessing what had put a concerned frown on her face. “We do have a few. And perhaps more on the way one day soon.” The smile he gave her turned dark and dangerous.
“No’ yet,” she told him. “’Tis much too soon.”
“Then we’ll have to keep trying.”
His comment both warmed and terrified her. He had much to teach her about relations between a husband and wife, and she was eager to continue those lessons. But motherhood was not something she felt ready for. Not yet. Still, one led to the other with some inevitability, as she knew. Their time would come. Their family. But for now, Erik and all of Ross were her family.
CHAPTER 8
To Erik, Fiona seemed anxious, but doing a good job hiding her anxiety from those who did not yet know her. Seeing the people she was now responsible for must be daunting. For her sake, he regretted how quickly their betrothal and wedding had taken place, but he was glad as well. She was here, and she had shown herself to be wise and brave. He’d chosen well that day in Inverness. And if he’d had to defy Donas to marry her instead of the Munro lass who escaped with the Brodie, knowing Fiona as much and as little as he now did, he would have done so gladly.
“While ye were here and I waited for yer return at Rose,” Fiona began, “did ye say anything to the clan about where I came from? What I did in Inverness? I think I will tire of talking about myself if I have to tell my story individually to each person I meet.”
“They ken I met ye there a year or more ago, and they ken about the burned bridge, but I didna talk about what ye did there. Ye never told me about yer time there, save what ye mentioned on the boat.”
“I didna?” Her brow creased as she thought back. “Nay, I didna. ’Tis simple enough.” She told him her tale, includingrunning from Inverness when everyone thought it would burn along with the bridge. “I havena had a chance to return, so I dinna ken if…anything in the town still stands.”
The pause in that statement made Erik think she was hiding something. But what? Had she had a lover there? Nay, he’d seen her virgin’s blood on their sheets before they left Rose, and not the sheet she’d prepared on their wedding night when she feared he would need her help confronting the Rose laird. Friends, then. Or favorite shopkeepers and shops? From growing up in the Rose keep, to living in a large town caring for a well-to-do widow, to returning to the Rose keep, Fiona had lived in places much more impressive than where he’d brought her. He still wondered if she was disappointed. Did she regret her choice? He wanted to know, but here in full view of much of the clan was not the place to have that discussion. They’d speak about it when they were alone in his cot, not where others could overhear.
One of Donas’ old partisans, Osgar, caught Erik’s attention. Not on purpose, surely, but Erik noticed him watching Fiona closely, and with a frown that boded ill. Erik would not have thought she noticed, save that her gaze kept shifting in that direction and quickly away again, so the man’s scrutiny was making her uneasy. Trouble within the clan was still brewing.
He did not want Fiona to be the target of any threats or violence. He would speak to the man to make sure he understood that retribution would be swift and savage for any kind of harm to his wife. Surely sudden brutality was something Donas’ remaining men understood. Donas had been a cruel man and a terrible leader. Hence the state of the clan now.
Erik fought not to follow his example. But he was frustrated with the slow pace of the work he wanted done, the many delays and disruptions that he had no doubt were the work of Donas’ men. As yet he could not prove which man or several men were leading the resistance. Nor could he afford to round up everyman who might still support their late laird, or he’d lose a significant part of his workforce and anger the rest. Eventually, he would discover who the troublemakers were, and he’d deal with them in a way they understood.
In the meantime, Tormod was keeping an eye on their chief suspects, making it clear that they were being watched, though those men seemed not to care. Did they think they would soon resume being in charge? Was there a rival for the lordship other than Teague, one working behind the scenes? If so, it might explain the lost missive as a deliberate attempt to prevent the alliance and weaken Erik. Fiona’s presence was a sign of their failure to do so, but Erik feared the other ways they could weaken him, none of them good for his wife.
Two days later,Fiona had met with Erik’s tanist and other close advisors about their needs and their wishes for the clan’s future. Those conversations gave her a better idea of how to handle the rest of her meetings with clan members. She would speak to most of the women alone so that they would be able to speak freely, without coaching from the men in their lives. A few might request their husband’s presence, and of course, Fiona would allow it. But, in their cot after supper that evening, Erik drew the line at her meeting alone with the men of the clan.
“Tormod and my other advisors are men I trust,” he told her as they talked, seated by a low fire in the hearth. “But ye are too lovely, too tempting, to closet yerself alone with any of the rest. I willna have ye treated badly in any way.”
“I have been taking care of myself in Inverness for years. I think I can do that here as well,” she objected with a bit morebravado than she actually felt. Some of the Ross men looked so big and rough, the idea of being alone with them scared her.
“Ye ken ye’ve been watched.”
“Aye. And some disapprove of me. I canna change their opinion of me if I canna speak to them.”
Erik scrubbed a hand through his hair, disordering it. “Ye can do that, but only with someone else present. Me, or Tormod, for instance. No’ another lass. They canna protect ye, nor ye them, from a determined attack.”
