Desiring the Highlander (38 page)

“Is Ferris dead?”

Dugan squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, remembering the mangled body lying on the ground. “By the time I found them and I saw Ferris, beaten…I just…reacted. I raised my sword like a fool and Leith must have known I was going to kill him and took advantage of my anger.” Dugan paused and then looked Cole straight in the eye. “He told me that it’s over.”

“Not yet,” Cole promised and held Dugan’s gaze for several seconds until he was sure the man knew his full meaning.

“Are you going after him then?”

Cole stood up and gave a simple shake to his head. “Won’t have to. You’re still alive and I’m still laird. He’ll be back and I don’t want there to be any confusion as to what will happen when he comes.”

Dugan let go the breath he had been holding and nodded once. “Leith chose his path and it’s one I will not save him from.”

“We have one more matter to discuss.”

Dugan tensed. He had been expecting this moment all day and it had been half the reason behind his drinking. Cole had every right to end his life, and while it was clear the laird was going to let him live, that act of mercy didn’t equate to being a part of this clan, let alone retaining his responsibilities as a commander.

Cole pointed to his injury. “That’s going to take a while to heal and I don’t want Jaime or Donald arguing with you about whether or not you’re ready to return, so I’m putting Jaime in charge of the all the men—permanently. Donald will continue as my second, in charge of the elite guard.”

Dugan took a deep breath. “I understand,” he said, exhaling.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Dugan. I think you are a talented soldier, but as a commander—”

“I’m terrible,” Dugan interjected.

Cole arched his brows. “No…just foolish and that will change with time.” He sighed. The man was defeated and no soldier would ever follow him until Dugan could once again respect himself. It only confirmed what Cole had decided. “I don’t desire your battling skills, I require you for something else. The needs of this clan are numerous, and they are only growing as more and more of the nomadic families are finding their way to Fàire Creachann. Sometimes, it’s days before I can meet with them and that’s too long in some cases. I want you to assess their needs and oversee their work. Inform me of any major decisions to be made, and we’ll meet each morning to discuss plans for the day and overall progression.”

Dugan stared at Cole, his eyes filled with disbelief without blinking. “After what happened to…” he asked, unable to say the young soldier’s name aloud.

“Ferris’s death will be something you will have to live with, and so will I, but you didn’t kill him. Remember that, especially at night.”

Dugan nodded in understanding. The nightmares of Ferris’s body, bloody and unmoving, were haunting and vivid, and Dugan doubted he would have another untroubled night of sleep again. “When I was riding back, I thought I was going to die.” He paused and licked his lips. “And I hoped I would. What you are offering will give me the chance to redeem myself.”

“In whose eyes?” Cole prompted, curious to know just whom he needed to impress.

“My own,” Dugan whispered.

Ellenor’s scowl could be seen all the way across the courtyard as she exited the still incomplete kitchen. Extraordinary advancements had been happening over the past several weeks owing to Henri’s guidance and Dugan’s recruiting capabilities. The stables had been solidified, a smithy had been erected, and the Lower Hall was near complete. Ceilings had been either installed or reinforced on the lower floors of all the towers, creating storerooms. Even construction of the buttery had begun. No focus had been on the kitchens, the bake house, or any other room to take care of the basic needs of the castle. And Ellenor was getting furious that her requests were being disregarded or, as Henri put it, “delayed.”

“Kitchens still a mess?”

Ellenor jumped, startled by the interruption of the internal monologue she was rehearsing for the next time she saw Cole or Dugan. “Even more so, and with no hope of changing in the near future. Henri won’t even placate me by lying about when he will start,” Ellenor spit.

Brighid let go a low whistle and fell in step beside her friend. “Guess I came at a bad time.”

All of the sudden Ellenor stopped. “What are you doing here?” Three weeks earlier, Donald had ordered a cottage to be erected for them on the mainland. Ellenor wanted to argue but couldn’t. There was very little space that was livable and the place he and Brighid had been staying in would eventually be used by castle servants. It was definitely not a home for the commander of the elite guard. So Brighid had left with both of them, promising to see each other at least every other day. Life, however, had had different plans. “I thought you were busy setting up home? Cole said that it was taking more time than Donald had anticipated.”

“Oh, the roof and walls were up as promised,” Brighid began sarcastically. “Chairs, tables, beds…those pesky little comforts have only just started to arrive.”

“You’ve been sleeping on the ground?” Ellenor gasped.

“No. Donald has. I’ve been sleeping on top of him, and while that was nice for a day or two, I must admit that it’s nice to have a bed. But there are still many who do not. The men and women are working as fast and hard as they can, but more families are arriving every day. I don’t think anyone realized just how large this clan is going to be. I’ve been helping…which is why I haven’t been around.”

“No apologies necessary. I’ve been so busy training staff here…You know I think less than a dozen people have ever even been near a castle this size, let alone worked in one. So what finally drove you across the pass? Needed a break?”

“Two things. I came to find out about candles. We, and many others, are nearly out.”

“If you have them, guard them well. We are nearly out everywhere, and neither Cole nor Dugan seems to care. I am no closer to finding a place for candlemaking than I am for weaving, spinning, or even washing our clothes. I actually have to have one of the maids bring Cole’s and my laundry to the village so her mother—God bless her—can do it.”

Ellenor almost mentioned her need for more soap but caught herself just in time. Last time she brought the subject up, she thought Brighid would never stop laughing at the idea of soap as a necessity, but Brighid was wrong. It
was
a necessity and Ellenor was almost out.

“I completely understand,” Ellenor continued, “that it may be next summer before these people have a permanent area to do their duties, but every other day I have to find a new place for them to work! Henri keeps usurping any space I find and I would have his head if Cole didn’t need it so much.”

Brighid elbowed her friend. “Wasn’t it you who said that if Cole could have a smithy, you could have a decent baker,” she chided, hoping the light banter might cool the heated look in her friend’s hazel eyes. It didn’t work. “So, just talk with him.”

“It’s not Cole I am battling. It’s Dugan! The man is on a mission, not only to prove himself to Cole, but to himself. He’s afraid of being viewed as an invalid…”

Brighid started chuckling. “Dugan? Why, he’s got every single woman in the village swooning over him.”

“Ridiculous as it sounds, it scares him that it has been over a month and he still cannot swing a sword. He fears becoming weak and is determined to find another way of being worthy and capable in Cole’s eyes. He spends all his time establishing order in the village…”

Brighid bobbed her head enthusiastically. “On that front, he is making excellent progress. The mood amongst the clansmen has changed quite dramatically in the past few weeks. The few squabbles that came up, Dugan handled quickly and fairly…”

“Fairly!” Ellenor hooted, uncaring who overheard. “The man doesn’t understand the word. Every day he sends a few more men here to help support Henri in exchange for building a cottage, a bed, a table…”

“That sounds reasonable. You need the help and—”

Ellenor shot Brighid a sideways glance full of warning. “Not
women
. Men. Castle building is his focus, leaving my needs as Lady of Fàire Creachann unmet. He and Henri oversee the construction and Cole refuses to interfere. He thinks Dugan needs a chance to rebuild his self-esteem and will not counter any of his orders unless it jeopardizes the clan.”

“You could try arguing with the laird. Always worked for Laurel.”

“I started, but then Cole flattered me and said that my ability to outthink a man like Dugan was one of the reasons he loved me.” Ellenor took a deep breath and sighed. “Now how could I argue after that?”

Brighid shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but I guess I just assumed all McTiernays fought.”

Ellenor frowned at the generalization. “Cole and I have yet to seriously differ.” She saw Brighid’s brows rise in disbelief. “Oh, we’ve bickered, but to
really
disagree? No. At least not like Laurel and Conor. I think they quarreled every night after his return. Both of them seem to accept it as a way of life.”

“It is a way of life!” Brighid cackled. “For them, but it’s not that way for everyone. The laird does not erupt like his two eldest brothers.”

“That’s what I am afraid of. Cole internalizes his emotions.”

“And you’re just the opposite. Lord, the day you two
do
really fight, I hope Donald and I are off visiting family.” She paused and gestured at all the workers, wood, and stones around them. “So, if you don’t want to argue with Cole, what about Dugan? Have you tried him?”

“You mean the one and only time I’ve been able to find him?” Ellenor half asked, half grumbled. “He spends all of his time on the mainland and I’ve been so busy here that our paths only intersected once and he was quite difficult then. He claimed my requests, while important, were those of comfort, and safety came first. Well, today, mainland or not, I fully intend to meet with him and make him realize that it
is
the health of our people that’s at risk. For the past week, I have been ill from the previous night’s meal and it is no wonder with the state of the kitchens. The cooks are doing the best that they can but—”

Brighid grabbed Ellenor’s arm, halting her march across the yard. “Good Lord, that’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“Since the moment I saw you, I knew something was different. Why didn’t you tell me you were with child? Are you and Cole trying to keep it a secret?”

The shock of Brighid’s revelation hit Ellenor full force. She grabbed her throat and whispered, “You’re wrong. I can’t have a baby. Cole didn’t want to start a family for a couple of years…”

Brighid snorted and crossed her arms. “Then he should have kept his hands off of you.”

Ellenor vehemently shook her head. “No, I, too, didn’t want to have a baby. Not so soon. There is so much to do.”

Brighid rolled her eyes beneath closed lids, wondering how two such smart people could pretend that the rules of life and death did not apply to them. “Then I guess you should have kept your hands off, too.”

“Don’t say anything, Brighid. Not to Donald. Anyone. I need to think.”

“Thinking won’t change anything.”

“I just need time to find a way to persuade Cole this is a good thing—a wonderful thing. But first, I’ll need to convince myself.”

“Well, don’t wait too long. I suspect the laird enjoys his nights, and if he’s anything like Donald…he’ll know soon enough.”

Ellenor’s jaw dropped. “You mean?”

Brighid grinned. “Aye. That was the second thing I came to tell you. It’ll come during winter, of all times. But take heart, dear friend. Donald, my wonderful sweet and oh so emotionally rigid husband, actually hollered aloud he was so thrilled.”

“He
has
been smiling a lot lately.”

“Aye. So much so that the laird finally asked what’s the matter with him. Donald said the laird actually looked jealous.”

“I don’t know whether to believe you or hug you for lying to me.”

“I’ll swear to every word.”

Ellenor clasped Brighid’s hand in hers. “Well, then this is cause for celebration. Duties can wait for a day. Besides I have yet to see your new home. If you don’t mind, I think I will come to visit this afternoon.”

Brighid nodded enthusiastically. “Please do. I am so scared and so excited and have been dying to share my news with you. And now we can commiserate with each other as we grow enormous.” She embraced Ellenor. “This afternoon then?”

Ellenor gave her a final squeeze and let go. “I’ve got to take care of a few things and meet with Dugan, but then I’ll be over directly.”

Brighid grinned and waved good-bye. Ellenor returned the gesture, hoping her friend’s excitement about becoming a mother was infectious.

Dark brown eyes watched Ellenor leave the stables and disappear into the keep.
A baby
. He had been stunned by the news, and by the sound of her voice, so had she. Lady McTiernay was far from ecstatic about the idea of becoming a mother.

“You! Mind your business and stop staring at milady.”

Leith fought the urge to strangle the stable master and returned his attention to the hay he was shoveling. A horse’s stall had provided the perfect place to hide in plain sight. He had somewhere to sleep at night and he could always duck just out of sight—but not out of earshot—when needed. Most of the castle help did not recognize him, and it had been easy to avoid the few who could.

He had been biding his time and had even risked making friends with her ladyship. The woman was surprisingly intelligent, and a couple of times he found himself caught in the spell she wove around every man. He had seen Dugan’s reaction the day she had spoken to him about getting more help. The fool had made the mistake of falling in love with her, and Leith refused to fall in the same trap. Women were trouble, but he had to admit Ellenor was different.

And what he just saw proved that.

By the tears forming in her eyes, being pregnant was the last thing she wanted to be. Maybe the image of love she gave off was not the truth. Perhaps Cole was not whom she wanted. Had she finally recognized her husband was a coward and infected all those who were underneath him with his own weakness?