A Beautiful Lie (The Camaraes) (96 page)

There was so much that had to be done now.  Graem
’
s funeral had to be organised, the clan had to be gathered to swear their allegiance to the new laird, people just had to be
told
…
and Tavish needed to be finally brought to trial.  But for the moment Lachlan couldn
’
t think about the future, all he could think about was the past, about what he had just lost.

..ooOOoo..

The hours, the days, that followed Graem MacRae
’
s death past in a blur of activity that Lachlan knew he was a part of and yet fell wholly removed from.  He was watching the world carry on while he stayed in stasis.  He needed to shake himself out of it, but he didn
’
t know how.  Muira was an angel, not demanding anything of him, the only one in fact who didn
’
t demand anything of him.  She was simply there, supporting him as he tried to get to grips with his new role as Laird.

It wasn
’
t the new tasks or responsibilities that got to Lachlan.  Graem had been so ill for such a very long time that his tanist had been carrying much of the burden of the Laird
’
s duties for months, if not years.  No.  It was the feeling of isolation.  As the clan
’
s tanist Lachlan had been different from other men, but as Laird (even if the required ceremonies hadn
’
t taken place and the clan hadn
’
t yet sworn their allegiance to him) he felt as though he was a completely separate species!

A few of his friends had warned him that the transition would be hard, but he had thought they meant because the clan might reject him (because of Muira, if he was honest with himself.)  Happily, this fear at least proved to be unfounded.  Lachlan wasn
’
t entirely sure how Muira had worked her magic, but she had done.  The sick people she had helped care for adored her, and passed their adoration on to others in a steady trickle of goodwill that soon enthused the whole castle.  He swelled with pride at every smile and word of kindness that she received.

In time, six months, a year maybe, Lachlan could believe that things would be all right.  They would be settled and everything would be resolved.  In the meantime, he had some nasty loose ends to tie up
…
not least of all the matter of Tavish MacEantach.  Out of respect for the deceased Laird his trial had been postponed until after Graem
’
s funeral, but after that
…

..ooOOoo..

The sun shone brightly on the day that Graem
’
s body was given over to the grave.  He was laid beside his beloved wife, Maisie, reunited once again.  Practically the whole clan gathered for his funeral, such was their love for the man who had led them for over half a century.

“
We
’
ll do it tomorrow, now everyone
’
s here,
”
Ross nodded at Lachlan, who raised a confused eyebrow. 
“
Pledge our allegiance to the new Laird,
”
the captain smiled a little.

“
You think that everyone will pledge their allegiance?
”
Lachlan asked with a wry, doubtful smile.

“
You know they will,
”
Ross said, with a quiet confidence that couldn
’
t help but reassure.  He slapped Lachlan on the back, and then went to mingle with the other mourns who had come back to Eilean Donan castle after the funeral to feast.

Lachlan took the opportunity to fade out of the spotlight and into the shadows.  He had only been there for a matter of seconds, watching the goings on unseen, or so he had thought, when there was a gentle tap on his shoulder.  Lachlan turned wearily, but the annoyance instantly left his face when he saw who was standing behind him.

“
Hello stranger,
”
Muira smiled up at him shyly.  He winced slightly at the phrasing of her greeting, and looked a tad sheepish.

“
I
’
ve been neglecting you haven
’
t I?
”
he murmured contritely.

“
Oh, no!
”
Muira said quickly. 
“
I didn
’
t mean-
”
 

Well, in all honestly that
’
s what she had meant, but she hadn
’
t meant for Lachlan to understand that
…
or maybe she had? 
Muira
knew
how much Lachlan had on his plate at present, she really and truly did, she just
…
really and truly missed having him around, and having his full attention when he was actually around. 

Would this be what their life would be like from now on,
she wondered sadly.  Was she going to have to compete with the clan for his attentions?

“
I
have
been neglecting you,
”
Lachlan repeated, deeply apologetically. 
“
I
’
m sorry,
”
he whispered, nodded distractedly at one of their highland guests. 
“
Things will calm down again soon, especially once-
”
but he broke off abruptly.

“
Once?
”
Muira prompted, but she could already guess the answer. 
Once Tavish had been disposed of
…

“
Not here, Muria, not now,
”
Lachlan looked grave, and exhausted, and older than his wife had ever seen him. 

Muria was sure that there were a few strands of grey scattered in his hair that hadn
’
t been there before, but then he had so many burdens to bear.  She was annoyed with her uncle for not attending Graem MacRae
’
s funeral actually.  He
’
d complained of the gout, and sent word telling Donaid to stay at Eilean Donan in his stead. 

Donaid and Ewan had both remained at the castle
…
Muira got the sense that neither felt that they could leave before things with Tavish were
…
finished.  She reached for her husband
’
s arm and gave it a comforting squeeze.  He smiled down at her indulgently, and then frowned.

“
What
’
s what?
”
Muira asked nervously.

“
Should you be standing?  You
’
ve been on your feet all day,
”
he fretted. 
“
Do you want to sit down?
”

“
I
’
m fine,
”
Muira beamed, she knew that she shouldn
’
t given the circumstances, but with one thoughtful word or gesture Lachlan could make up for everything. 
“
We
’
re
fine,
”
she amended, moving a little closer to her husband than was strictly polite given that they were out in public.

“
Good,
”
Lachlan sighed. 
“
Because if anything should happen to the two of you-
”

“
Nothing
is going to happen to either of us,
”
Muria promised. 
“
I
’
m afraid you
’
re stuck with us,
”
she teased.

“
And that
’
s just how I like it,
”
Lachlan smiled- for the first time in days. 
“
Lady MacRae,
”
he added softly, thoughtfully.

Muira blushed slightly.  She hadn
’
t heard her new title spoken by her husband before.  She had thought that he had felt it too soon after Graem
’
s death to start altering the social structure of the castle.

“
It suits you,
”
Lachlan said, still wearing a small smile, before Muira could think of anything suitably coy to say, her husband added more seriously:
“
There hasn
’
t been a Lady MacRae at Eilean Donan in years.
”

Muira felt a sudden weight of expectation settle on her shoulders. 
“
I promise, I won
’
t let you down, Lachlan!
”
she blurted ardently.  Her husband glanced down at her in surprise.

“
Of course not,
”
he breathed, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles. 
“
You never could.
”