The Eagle Page 8

  The Ross warriors breached the house and sometime later, the Uisdein and his family were dragged out. The sons were badly beaten, the laird, his wife, and Flora looked to be unharmed.

  Stuart got to his feet and stumbled forward. Duncan spotted him, jumped from his horse, and hurried to him. “Are ye injured?”

  “The damsel in distress will live,” Stuart replied bitterly. The bad taste in his mouth growing with each moment.

  Darach stalked to where warriors held the Uisdein and his family. “I warned ye I would not take kindly to ye ever provoking me again.” His deep voice rumbled over the people gathered that had escaped his wrath.

  “Which one?” Darach said motioning to the Uisdein’s sons who were forced to their knees. “Choose!” he growled. “Which one dies for ye daring to take my brother.”

  The Uisdein’s eyes rounded in horror. “Stuart made a vow. He was to marry…” He stopped talking seeming to realize the absurdity of his words. Then he took a step forward, reached for the sword in Darach’s hand, and lifted it to his own throat.

  “Neither of my sons will pay for my deed.”

  “Very well,” Darach said.

  “No!” Flora cried out and stood between Darach and her father. “Take me. My brothers and father did this because of me.”

  Her gaze went to Stuart. “I am sorry. I did not mean for things to get to this point.”

  “No,” Ethan said. “It is I, as eldest, who takes responsibility.”

  Lady Uisdein pushed her husband forward. “Take responsibility for yer actions. My children should not pay.”

  There was a beat of silence and seconds later the Uisdein sunk to his knees then fell forward onto the ground. A bright red puddle formed around the Uisdein’s head. There was a dagger in his right hand. The man had cut his own throat.

  Lady Uisdein screamed and collapsed. Flora took her mother in her arms and they held each other tight, as her two brothers gathered around their dead father.

  Darach walked away from the grisly scene. “Let us return home.”

  The sea was calm as dozens of Ross bìrlinns traversed the blue expanse back to South Uist and Ross lands. Stuart sat away from the others not sure he could speak. His brothers seemed to sense he needed time and kept their distance. Instead, they discussed the logistics of what had occurred and how it could have been done better.

  “Am I a training lesson?” Stuart asked looking at Duncan, who’d been explaining something about the ways the men had formed during the short battle.

  “Every battle is an opportunity to learn,” Darach replied.

  In silence, he looked over the water to another bìrlinn, which Caelan was on. It seemed Darach had left the helm of the lairdship in Ewan’s able hands.

  “I am glad to serve some purpose.” Bitterness dripped from each word.

  His brothers exchanged a look, which he recognized as them thinking he needed time to get over whatever had happened to him.

  “I should be overcome and taken away more often. That could be my value.”

  Darach’s jaw tightened, the muscle on the side of his face flexing. “What ye are is an idiot.”

  “True,” Stuart said. “I am the idiot that needs rescuing, while the rest of ye . . . ye are the true warriors. Each of ye.”

  He motioned to Duncan. “Ye were stolen away, Father abandoned ye to be sold. Ye survived years of captivity and ye remain a good man and became a great warrior.”

  He could not stop now. “Ewan… well should we even discuss what Father did to him? He too was gone for years because of the evil one that gave us life. And ye,” he said to Darach. “Father killed yer mother. And ye were charged with taking over the lairdship from a man who was hated by the people.”

  “What does this have to do with anything?” Darach replied. “None of us can help our lot in life.”

  “That is just it. I have no lot. I have been afforded a good life. Because of the sufferings of my brothers, I gained richness and stability. Why did ye risk so much to come for me?”

  His brothers were silent. It must have been because what he said was true.

  “Ye are our brother, we would give our lives for ye, just as we know ye would do for us.” Duncan glared at him. “Stop being an idiot.”

  Stuart suddenly felt hollow, the sensation so horrifying he wanted to scream. Instead, he met Darach’s gaze. “I must go. I cannot remain at the keep. Allow me to go.”

  “Where?” his brothers asked in unison.

  “Ye should consider this more,” Darach said. “Aye, ye have benefitted, but ye have also fought side by side when it was needed. Ye are not without some of the sufferings we endured at the hands of our father.”

  “Ye must allow me to go,” Stuart repeated too exhausted to argue further.

  Chapter Eight

  Despite her bandaged hand, Cait did what she could to help care for the injured men who’d been attacked in the forest. All four guardsmen had been knocked unconscious and a couple of them had nasty cuts to their heads. Artair Ross had received a deep wound to his side, but still managed to ride back and alert them of the attack. He was recovering in one of the bedchambers.

  Cots were being set up in the great hall for any injured men returning from Benbecula.

  Lady Isobel came to stand next to Cait, who was awkwardly washing an injured man’s face with her left hand. She looked up expecting the woman to say something.

  “I’m sure they’ll be returning soon.” She looked to the doorway; worry etched on her pretty face. “I am glad Darach took a large contingency.”

  “Everyone will return safely,” Cait said praying Stuart was unharmed.

  “Ye should rest,” Isobel said. “We may be up all night once the men return.”

  “I am not tired,” Cait replied. “Surprisingly, my hand does not hurt much.”

  “Come sit with me for a moment.” Isobel took her by the arm. “There is something we must discuss.”

  Curious, Cait followed her to a bench at the long dining tables nearby. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, not necessarily.” Isobel seemed to struggle to formulate what she wanted to say. “It is just that we find it awkward for ye to remain in the servant’s quarters, given the situation.”

  “What situation?” Cait asked genuinely confused.

  Isobel gave her a wan smile. “Ye should know this. I may be wrong in sharing, but my husband told me that Stuart plans to court ye.”

  Her eyes widened and she let out a long breath. “Me? I am a servant.”

  “Aye. I suppose love and attraction do not take note of such things. Ewan’s wife, Catriona, was a servant. Darach’s cousin, Malcolm Ross—who is also a laird—married Elsbeth, a humble healer who lived at a nearby village.”

  Mind racing over what to say, Cait swallowed. “I am not sure what to think. I do not think my laird heard him correctly.”

  Isobel smiled. “When he returns and asks to speak to ye, at least now ye know what to expect.”

  Thankfully, someone called Lady Isobel away before there could be any further discussion about her moving from the servant’s quarters.

  Cait remained sitting, her mind awhirl. Yes, she’d shared a kiss with Stuart; but surely it had not been enough for him to go to such lengths as declaring to his family that he wished to court her. It was probably to do with her having declared that she would not be a mistress. Perhaps he felt forced to make a declaration after someone spotted them kissing.

  Could it be that her half brother had something to do with it? She would get to the bottom of it. And hopefully avoid Stuart until she was able to figure out why Lady Isobel and the laird expected Stuart to court her.

  “They return,” Cora called out racing past her toward the kitchen entrance. “I pray Torac was not harmed.”

  “I am sure he was not,” Cait said with more assuredness than she felt. Her brother was an able fighter and although not knowing him long, she’d grown to care for him. “He is well, ye will see.”
Cait stood smoothed her apron and followed Cora out.

  Both Cora and Cait stood in the courtyard and lifted to their toes as mounted warriors came through the gates. First were the head guardsmen—which included Torac—followed by two wagons on which injured had been brought. From what Cait could tell there were not many, but enough to keep them very busy.

  Torac dismounted and called out orders. Duncan and Gideon also dismounted and began directing warriors and guards.

  A group of lads raced to the well with buckets as Greer instructed them to bring the water into the great hall.

  Cait looked to Cora. “Are ye to go speak to my brother?”

  “There is no time. We must see about the injured.”

  It was then she noted that Stuart was helped from the back of a wagon. He hobbled between two warriors that half carried him into the house. His face was swollen, and his tunic shredded and bloody.

  “Come, there is much to see about,” Greer who’d come out and stood behind them said. “Cora, ye and Finella help the healer. Cait, ye and I will see about feeding the warriors outside.”

  They hurried back to the kitchen. Although Cait was anxious to know how Stuart fared, in a way she was glad not to be given a different task.

  Despite being able to use only her left hand, Cait still managed to do limited work. Women from the village arrived in time to help with the cooking and serving, leaving Cait and Greer to see about refilling cups and ensuring everyone had enough to eat.

  They would continue working in shifts through the night.

  “I do not know why I am so exhausted,” Cait said walking into the kitchen. “I am used to doing more after walking from my home. Last night I was here.”

  Greer nodded. “Caring for the injured, while worrying about dear ones being hurt is tiring. I am glad that no one was hurt badly.”

  “How is…How is Mister Stuart? I saw him being helped inside,” Cait asked.

  The older woman sighed. “He went to his bedchamber and refused to see anyone. Lady Mariel just went up to see about him.”

  One of the kitchen maids neared, she looked over her shoulder and then whispered, “I hear the Uisdein slit his own throat in front of him. Mister Stuart’s betrothed, Flora, was there.”

  “Betrothed?” Cait blurted.

  “Aye,” Greer said waving a hand dismissively. “He was once betrothed to Flora Uisdein, but the betrothal was broken by her father. Then after they held our laird captive, the alliance with them was completely severed.”

  Cait closed her eyes. The day had become more and more bizarre. First, Isobel tells her Stuart is interested in courting her and now, she finds out he had a betrothed. Whatever could happen next?

  Her mother had always told Cait not to tempt faith by asking “what next?” She shivered at the realization and prayed not to get any kind of horrible response.

  Cait remained in the kitchen wondering what she should do. If only she could seek guidance from her mother. However, there was no possible way she could walk all the way home since she would be needed early to help with the injured and the cooking.

  “I do not think I can continue on. I am going to lay down for a few moments,” Cait said. After a nod from Greer, she left the kitchen and walked slowly down the corridor toward the servant’s quarters.

  Lady Mariel appeared; her face drawn. “Ah, there ye are. My goodness, ye look exhausted. I hate to ask this of ye, but I require yer assistance.”

  Without waiting for a response, she took Cait by the wrist and tugged her past the great room, up the stairs, and into a bedchamber.

  Stuart was there on the bed. He looked to either be asleep or unconscious.

  “What happened to him?” Cait whispered.

  With a dismissive wave, Lady Mariel glowered toward the bed. “Cuts, bumps, bruises. He has a rather nasty cut on his left side, just under his ribs.”

  “I am afraid I may be too tired to be of much help. I can sit here with him if ye wish,” Cait told her, praying the woman would tell her to leave and return later.

  The woman neared the bed and pushed at Stuart’s shoulder. He mumbled something akin to go away, but it was hard to tell.

  “The healer’s potion must have been stronger than I thought,” Lady Mariel said frowning down at her son.

  “I suppose ye can speak to him later.”

  “About what?”

  There was a rapid knock at the door, followed by the laird appearing. He looked to the bed and then to her and his mother. “How is he faring?”

  “He is asleep,” Lady Mariel said. “I suppose it means he is well. I brought Cait so she could talk to him. Perhaps convince him against the nonsense he was going on about.”

  “That is not our concern. I do agree they should discuss it in private, but it must be on their terms,” Darach Ross said and gave Cait an apologetic look. “Mother, let us leave them be for a while.”

  The pair left, leaving her standing in the middle of Stuart’s bedchamber without any idea what she was supposed to do. What was it she and Stuart had to discuss?

  “This is ridiculous,” she said nearing the bed and looking down at the slumbering man. He was without a tunic, the bedcovers up across his chest. She poked at his shoulder with one finger, and he barely moved.

  “What do they wish us to talk about? I know ye are betrothed—or were. And for whatever reason, yer family thinks ye plan to court me. Ye must wake and set things right.”

  His eyes flew open, and he met hers for a long moment. “Ye are so very beautiful.”

  Unsure if he was in his right mind, Cait nodded. “Thank ye. What is it we are to speak about?”

  When his eyes fluttered shut, she waited. Then he let out a long sigh. “I want to be with ye Cait. To get to know ye better. Do ye wish the same?” His gaze held questions as he gave her a questioning look. “I do not have much to offer.”

  Despite the situation, Cait chuckled. “Ye are the laird’s brother. How can ye say that? Once ye are recovered perhaps we can finish this discussion.”

  He nodded. “I am not sure what to do.”

  “Ye should listen to yer heart. I think ye are an amazing man Mister Stuart.”

  “Do not call me that. Call me Stuart, Cait.” It was as if he could not keep his eyes open. “My Cait.”

  His head lolled to the side as he fell asleep. Cait wondered if he would remember the conversation. Probably not.

  Reaching out with trembling fingers, she touched the side of his face. His skin was cool to the touch. “I wish I could believe what ye said.”

  She eyed an oversized chair that had a blanket thrown over one arm. It was too alluring to pass up. No one, except for the laird and his mother, knew where she was. If she took a short nap, no one would be the wiser.

  Her lips curved as she curled up on the soft cushion, pulled the cover over herself, and promptly fell into a deep slumber.

  When she woke, Cait realized how deeply she slept because not only was it dark outside, but Caelan sat in a chair close to the bed speaking to Stuart in low tones.

  Cait had to press her lips together not to gasp. Could it be neither of them knew she was there? No. They knew. Hence the whispering.

  Cait closed her eyes tightly, pretending to continue sleeping.

  “I think ye should decide what it is ye wish to do,” Caelan said. “If ye feel as if it is time for a change, do not allow anyone or anything to stop ye.”

  It sounded as if Stuart wanted to do something but was being held back. Cait wished with all her might not to hear any more of the conversation that was not meant for her ears.

  “Lennox Maclean is sending his sister here. She wishes to learn about ledgers and such. It will be ye that spends time teaching her,” Stuart said. “I do not wish to meet the lass and do something that can ruin relations with the new laird.”

  Caelan murmured a reply that Cait could not make out. She waited a few beats and pretended to wake by yawning loudly and stretching. She slid clumsily to her fee
t. “I apologize for falling asleep. I was to look after ye.” She gave them a quick glance. “I will see about something for ye to eat.”

  “I am not hungry…”

  She hurried from the room before Stuart finished the sentence.

  The great hall was quiet, most of the injured were asleep. Thankfully the only ones about were the healer and his assistant.

  Cait walked past them and headed to the servant’s quarters. Once inside the safety of the tiny room, she melted into the only chair and bowed her head.

  From what she overheard, it had sounded as if someone was coming to visit, and they would bring a woman who Stuart was supposed to meet.

  All that had happened between her and Stuart was a simple kiss. In her limited knowledge of men, Stuart had not come close to declaring himself. He was kind. And might possibly be attracted to her. Nothing more.

  Cait lifted her head, unsure what to do with the rest of the day. What she needed to do was go home and spend time with her mother.

  Lady Ross had told her to take time off from her duties and she would do just that.

  Chapter Nine

  It had been a night filled with tossing and turning. Stuart’s mind going from one thing to the other and still he had no idea what he wished to do. Searching deep inside himself, he came up empty.

  Nothing motivated him and that was the problem. It infuriated him that for so long he’d lived in the shadows of his brothers. He’d always done what he could to help but had lost a sense of who he truly was.

  Although a restlessness had come over him, the stirring in his soul came without direction or guide. Instead, all he felt was a deep sense of wanting to do something different. To find his true purpose.

  Then there was Cait. Despite how hard he tried to put any thoughts of her aside, the beautiful woman invaded his every waking moment. The thought of not including her—in whatever his future may be—brought hesitation. He’d dreamt of having a conversation with her and asking if she wanted to be with him. Because he wasn’t sure he could leave her behind.