A cheer erupted in the room, surprising her with the vigor of the men’s support. She hadn’t spoken to rouse fighting spirits or convince people to do her bidding. She had merely spoken the only truth she was willing to accept.
Having landed on some semblance of agreement and the closeness of the noonday meal, Lachlan dismissed the council of war. Slowly, all of their friends and allies filed out of the room, each offering a smile of thanks or a nod of support, until only Lachlan and Aila were left.
The door clicked shut and for the first time in weeks, the newlyweds were well and truly alone. There were no young prying eyes or demands on their time. No one to rush them out of bed and onto their feet to prepare for the fight. Nothing but blissful silence and the faint chirping of birds outside the paned window.
“Are ye upset with me?” Aila asked, her voice small as it broke through the quiet.
Lachlan still sat in his chair, his shoulders decidedly more slumped than they had been during the council. His hands peeled away from his face and he looked up at her, confusion creating a deep line between his brows.
“Why would I be upset with ye, love?” he questioned.
She shrugged and sighed, her own shoulders heavy with the burden of the role she had stepped into. It was one thing to be a new bride. It was an entirely different thing to also take on the role of Lady of the Kincaids when the clan was still rebuilding itselfandon the brink of war. She never knew what to say or how to act, especially not when it came to supporting or arguing with Lachlan.
“I disagreed with ye. In front of the entire council, all our allies and friends and the generals. I would hate for them to think that I dinnae support ye, that ye are nae Laird of this clan. Because ye are. I only wanted to remind ye of yer duties to the clan, of who the Baron truly is. He is nae a man of honor the way ye are and will nae respect yer sacrifice. It will only make him more greedy and?—”
During her anxious rambling, Lachlan had risen from his seat, much as a lion stalks through his kingdom. He came to her side with no hesitation in his movement. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, he grabbed her by the waist and hauled her to him, kissing her firmly. So thorough in his efforts was he that she left off mid-sentence and when Lachlan released her so she could catch her breath, she couldn’t remember what she was saying.
“I love ye, Aila. I am nae upset with ye,” he murmured, letting his forehead drop to hers.
Her fists curled into his tunic, taking in the smell and warmth of him.
“I needed the reminder. And I have nay issue with the men at this table, seeing just how fierce my Lady is.”
The last sentence he spoke with a prideful grin, one that she couldn’t help but return. They stood in each other’s embrace for a few moments longer, soaking in the love they shared, anchoring themselves in each other.
“We should go check on Taryn. She seemed verra upset,” Aila said softly.
Lachlan kissed her again and then took Aila by the hand to lead her through the castle. It took only a moment to find Taryn and James seated in the courtyard, talking in bent whispers. Aila’s heart broke the moment she saw her friend’s tear streaked face. James, clearly doing his best to comfort her, was having no luck calming the torrent of emotions that currently rippled through Taryn.
“Och, love,” Aila said by way of greeting. “What is the matter?”
“This is all my fault,” Taryn wailed. “I have put us all in danger. If I had just married the brute when I was supposed to, none of this would have ever happened. But I did nae. I ran away like a coward. And now Sorcha and Laura are in so much danger. I have put three or four clans in Dudley’s line of sight. There will be so much blood on my hands. How am I to bear it?”
She dissolved into tears then, any strength having long since left her. Aila sat and wrapped her arms tightly around Taryn’s shoulders, wishing she was capable of holding all of the pieces together. Taryn turned, tucking her head into Aila’s arms, letting her tears drench the sleeve of Aila’s dress.
“It is nae yer fault,” Aila hushed softly. “Nay one is responsible for this except the Baron. It is only his hands who are red, nae yers.”
“But if I had nae run…” she started again, her words muffled by the fabric of Aila’s dress.
“If ye had nae run,” James finished for her, “he would have almost surely killed ye by now. Ye would have been another of his luckless brides.”
“And he would still be on the rampage for my lands,” Lachlan added sagely.
Taryn sniffled and picked up her head then.
“What do ye mean?” she asked the group.
“We mean,” Lachlan answered, speaking firmly but kindly, “that Dudley is who he is nay matter the circumstances life presents him. Stayed or ran, he would have inflicted untold harm on yer clan. Same for mine. We are nae at war with him because of anything ye have done, but because of everythinghehas done.”
His words hung in the air, ringing with truth as they all contemplated them. Taryn shuddered and James pulled her close again, but Aila did not let go of her grasp of her friend’s hand.
“I can feel it in my bones,” she whispered. “There is an ache there, just like yer mother says before a big storm.”
Her eyes settled on James.
“But this is nay ordinary storm,” Taryn continued, a glassy look in her eyes. “This war is going to change the tides of history. It will be the making or the breaking of us. And right now, the winds are nae blowing in our favor.”
She shuddered again, blinking hard. When she looked back at Aila, she seemed much more herself—if a little drained. But Aila’s nerves felt sufficiently rattled.
