Page 32 of Hard-Hearted Highlander
About a mile from Arrandale was Auchenard, the hunting lodge that Daisy—Lady Chatwick before she’d married Cailean—held in stead for her son, young Lord Chatwick. It sat empty now, as it had for many years. Since the rebellion had been put down, Daisy did not feel safe bringing her viscount son so far into the Scottish Highlands, fearing retribution for what had happened at the fields of Culloden. Someday, when Ellis was of age, he would come again. But for now, Rabbie saw after it. For the time being, they resided at Chatwick Hall in northern England, a grand place by the sound of it, where Ellis was being properly educated to be an English viscount.
Rabbie missed his brother and Daisy, he did, but the solitude at Arrandale suited him. He felt useless otherwise. He wasn’t even a help to his own father. Though his father’s leg bothered him very much, he was still the head of a clan, still had responsibilities to their extended family, although that family had been diminished. Rabbie couldn’t seem to summon the wherewithal to help his father in the ongoing affairs of Balhaire. Everything seemed so bloody pointless.
Catriona, whose future seemed as bleak to Rabbie as his own, had begun to handle more of their father’s dealings and, in notable contrast to Rabbie, without complaint. Her willingness to help where she could shamed him. They were born of the same parents, had shared the same upbringing. How could her heart stay as strong as it had, still beating, still capable of feeling, when his heart had turned so hard?
He thought of all this one day as he rattled around the estate, with nothing to occupy him but his thoughts. He was restless again, and decided to go to Balhaire. He found Mrs. Brock and told her not to leave supper for him. He also decided, as it was a fine, clear day, that he’d take one of the boats. It had been a very long time since he’d been on the water. One of the Balhaire dogs had followed him home two days ago, and eagerly leaped in the small boat and settled at the stern like a captain.
Rabbie pushed the boat away from the shore, then stepped in, found the oars and began to row.
The loch was still this afternoon, the rowing easy work. He glided past the point where they’d hanged Seona’s father, past the point the traitor Murray had led English soldiers to shore so that they could sneak inland to attack Killeaven and Marraig.
When Rabbie reached the place where the loch met the sea, the water turned a bit rougher. The rowing became work, and the dog came to its feet, as if on guard for any impediment in their path. Rabbie kept up his pace. His muscles burned to the point that he could scarcely feel his arms, but he did not let up. He wanted the burn to spread through every limb. He wanted to burn up completely.
He reached their cove without disintegrating into flames, however. The dog leaped from the boat, choosing to swim to shore. Perhaps it feared Rabbie would row it out to sea. He got out of the boat and sank into water above his knees. It was icy cold and filled his boots, and still, he didn’t care. If his body wouldn’t burn, perhaps it would freeze. He dragged the boat to shore and paused, looking up at the cliff.Hiscliff. It looked higher from here, which gave him a slight shiver. That might have been the result of the frigid water in his boots, but he couldn’t be certain.
With the boat secure, Rabbie began the half-mile walk from the shore to Balhaire, up a gradual slope, through a forest and then onto the high road, past shuttered houses and shops, past clan members who lifted their hands in half-hearted greetings.
When he reached the bailey, he realized something was happening. He was so accustomed to the bailey being empty now, but he could hear voices. And laughter.
He was met by a pair of dogs, who lifted their snouts to be petted. He obliged them for a moment, then ventured on and walked toward the sound of the voices. He went round the corner and found, to his surprise, his brother and sisters, and Vivienne’s children and husband, on the green. Fiona and Ualan were out as well, but standing apart from the others. Fiona was pulling grass from the green. Ualan watched the others intently.
But it was not the children that added to Rabbie’s great consternation. It was the presence of Miss Holly and Miss Kent. They were bowling.
Bowling.
He hadn’t seen anyone bowl on this green in years. He remembered when his father had brought them the kit from France, the balls polished to a high sheen, and he and his siblings had climbed over each other to touch them. For many years of his childhood, members of the Mackenzie clan would gather on the green on Saturday evenings, to dine and drink and play games such as this. Those times were long gone, and it made him sentimental to see his family at the sport now. His nieces and nephews were delighted; they were laughing and shrieking, running back and forth to examine each ball bowled.
It was strange to see Miss Holly and Miss Kent among them. Had he forgotten they were calling at Balhaire? He couldn’t remember any mention of it. He watched them for a moment, unnoticed. His fiancée was laughing at something Aulay had said, and pretended to collapse with laughter into his shoulder. Aulay, laughing, too, caught her and righted her, then let her go with a smile.
It was Miss Holly’s turn to bowl. She enlisted the help of several of the children to instruct her, then bent down in something of a curtsy, and rolled her ball. It wobbled down the path she’d sent it and knocked a blue cone out of its way. That was met by cheering from the rest of them, his nieces and nephews jumping wildly about.
He hesitantly walked toward them.
Fiona MacLeod was the first to see him. She waved, as if they were dear old friends. She began to skip toward him. Her brother didn’t move, but his gaze locked on Rabbie’s. That lad seemed to carry an invisible weight on his shoulders.
“Rabbie!” Vivienne said, noticing Fiona skipping in his direction. Suddenly, his nieces and nephews began to shout “Uncle Rabbie!”and soon, they had raced ahead of Fiona to throw their arms around his legs, laughing.
Fiona stopped, watching the other children with curiosity.
“Look at the lot of you, aye?” Rabbie said as he tousled the hair of several of them, then gestured for Fiona to join in the fray. She didn’t move. “Bowlers now, are you?”
“Uncle Rabbie, will you play?” asked his oldest niece, Maira. She had big blue eyes, like his Auntie Zelda.
“He’ll no’ play,” said Bruce. The lad was old enough to remember a boisterous uncle who would carry him on his shoulders and toss him in the loch on hot summer days. Rabbie remembered that uncle, too—he’d been lost somewhere along the way. He stroked Maira’s cheek and managed the best smile he could.
“Maira,leannan,he canna join the play in the middle of the game,” Vivienne said, and put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “Go now, it’s your turn.”
As Maira scampered back to the green, the other children, remembering the game, ran after her. Fiona had turned back, too, and was once again at her brother’s side. Vivienne rose up and kissed Rabbie’s cheek.
“What is this, then?” he asked, lazily returning her kiss.
“What do you think, lad? A game.”
“Aye, a game we’ve no’ played in years.”
“We’ve naugh’ else to entertain your fiancée, do we?”
He looked at Miss Kent. It didn’t appear she’d noticed him...but her saucy maid had. She was wearing a pale blue gown, and for once, her hair was put up properly, so that he had a complete view of her long, slender neck. She was also smiling, as he had rarely seen her do, and it was...charming.
