Page 43 of Highlander’s Lesser Evil

When will he let me in?

18

“What are the chances that MacSeaver is working without Graeme’s knowledge?” Hamish asked over dinner. They were dining privately. Theo knew that Gemma, who was used to her village dinners, thought it was odd, but the truth was that he usually dined alone. When he’d first taken over as laird, he’d weeded through the guards, leaving only those he trusted, but his Great Hall was still mostly empty during mealtimes. When Patrick had been laird, he’d made the meals mandatory, even for the guards who had families at home, and used them to torment the weaker. They’d become an affair of fear.

Now that dining was optional, they didn’t show. It hurt him more than he’d wanted to admit that no one trusted him, but he hadn’t accrued all that much goodwill following his father’s orders. Even those he’d helped in private weren’t brave enough to come forward on his behalf, but he didn’t blame them.

There was still so much blood on his hands.

The decision to stay for a few more days wasn’t an easy one for him. The warrior in him roared to return to Loch Moran so he could protect it, but he had people here as well, and Hamish had reported that his people were seeking ways off the land. His stomach churned at the thought. He’d thought that MacDougals would survive anything, but now it seemed that they would rather flee than deal with him.

And, it appeared there were still those loyal to his father. There was no other reason for that note to end up with Gemma. He suspected they were the ones who were bullying the others to leave. If he couldn’t keep his people, the king would hand his clan to someone else.

That would not happen.

“I think ‘tis more likely that Graeme is working without Fletcher’s knowledge. He joined the battle and fought for our side, but ‘tis also possible he wants me to trust him.”

“Ye do trust him.” Hamish cocked his head. “Ye doonae want to trust that feeling.”

“Can ye blame me?”

“You trust Hamish, and you have not known him long,” Gemma pointed out.

Theo and Hamish both straightened and stared at her. How could she even question that? “He is my brother.”

“And I just met your father. Blood in your family doesn’t automatically mean trust and kinship.”

An unsettled feeling spread through him, but he refused to indulge the whisper that he shouldn’t trust anyone. He’d decided to bond with his brother, to fight alongside him and nearly die with him. He wouldn’t let his father’s voice sway him.

“Vera well, perhaps I do have an instinct to trust Graeme, and I wilnae push that away ‘til he gives me reason,” he told his wife. She smiled, and he found it soothed him to know that she was pleased.

“My people?” he asked Hamish.

“A few have tried to flee in your absence. The guards stopped them and alerted me. They seemed at a loss for what to do. I had my men escort them to my land for now.”

Theo stiffened. “Ye took my people?”

“I wanted ye to speak to them where they could feel safe, to learn why they wanted to flee now,” Hamish said without a beat. “Their stay is only temporary unless ye want otherwise.”

It was his instinct to demand them back, but Hamish was acting with great diplomacy, and Theo would need to do the same.

Gemma put her hand on his arm, and he relaxed. “I appreciate that, and yer help.”

“Gemma, Theo tells me that ye are a weaver. How did that come about?”

Delight sprang into her eyes. “When I first arrived at Loch Moran, I was useless and terrified. I thought that at any minute I’d be collected and wedded to a cruel highland laird. Ana lived in the cottage before me, and she took me in. Claimed that if I were to stay with her, then I needed to be helpful. So at first, I helped feed the yarn and keep it untangled. Then, she taught me some of her techniques, and within a few months, I was doing most of the work. Her strength was leaving her, and she was gone not long after that, but she’d taught me enough to start on my own. I built up my technique from there.”

“And it is yer passion?” Hamish guessed.

“Oh, yes. Very much. I’d never thought much about art until that moment, but there is something truly remarkable about putting your passion into something.”

“And ye did it all for Loch Moran.” Admiration shone in Hamish’s face, and Theo felt a grain of pride as well. “Ye are a remarkable lass.”

“Aye, she is.”

Gemma narrowed her eyes. “I can start weaving again for the good of the clan when I have my looms.”

She was stubborn, but he certainly wanted to make her happy. “When I go back to Loch Moran, I’ll reach out to Agnes and some others to pack yer looms, and I will prepare a wagon to return them,” he promised.