Page 27 of Highlander's Secret Heiress
Now that she knew Lachlan Carrick better, she could see that he was not the monster she had first thought, damn him! Why did he have to be so hard, yet so tender, so full of love for Davina, yet hate for her family?
Thinking about all this, Alyth felt utterly ashamed and guilty, but she could hardly sit everyone down and explain what had happened to drive her to this desperate course of action. No, she had to forge ahead and complete what she had set out to do, no matter how much hurt it caused to herself or others. She had to harden her heart and firmly put any affection she harboured for anyone at Leithmuir behind her. She was a soldier on a mission, and nothing must get in her way.
Alyth had not realised that Maisie was speaking to her until she heard her laughing. “Daydeamin’ hen?” she asked.
“One of my worst faults,” Alyth replied, casting her eyes heavenwards.
“I have that problem mysel’,” Maisie replied, and they laughed together.
Alyth forced her mind away from her morbid thoughts and resumed her work. It occurred to her suddenly that her stint as a maid was teaching her many more skills than she would ever have learned as a Laird’s wife. If she ever had to, she could become a baker or a farmer’s wife. She chuckled inwardly at the thought.
After the bread had risen, Maisie set Alyth to other duties, ones which had become almost automatic to her now. As she swept the floor of one of the passages, she thought about the attack they had suffered from the Robertsons. Alyth had kept the news to herself, but it leaked out anyway, since the guards who had brought back the inert bodies had spread the news.
Alyth found out then how much the other maids meant to her when they crowded around her and hugged her with affection and relief.
“Thank god ye are still well an’ still wi’ us, Jeannie,” Mairi, the cook, had said to her as she kissed Alyth’s cheek. “We would have missed ye so much.”
Alyth had burst into tears then, tears of relief at the lucky escape she had, and the warmth of these special friends. She felt like the most fortunate woman in the world, but the attack had set her to thinking.
What part had the Robertsons played in the raid on Leithmuir that had started the feud between the Carricks and the MacAdams? There was definitely more to this than met the eye, and she was determined to find out what it was.
12
Lachlan had not slept well that night, but he often found that exercising hard helped him to wake up and tackle the day ahead. Accordingly, he challenged Gavin Ballantyne, his Captain of the Guard, to a sword fight in the courtyard. They were surrounded by off-duty guards and servants who were cheering them on, some for Gavin, some for Lachlan. The maidservants loved to see their handsome, muscular Laird display his considerable skills in front of them. It was a treat for the eyes, as Maisie put it.
This was a sight that would never have been seen in any other castle, but since his wife had been killed, Lachlan had always actively encouraged his staff to take an interest in self-defence. Even some of the maidservants were learning to use small weapons. They would never take part in any battles, of course, but at least they would have a chance of fending off an attacker for a while till help arrived.
The bout went on with first one combatant taking the upper hand and then the other, forward and back until Gavin suddenly lunged forward and had the point of his sword pointing straight at Lachlan’s throat. Lachlan laid down his weapon in surrenderthen shook hands with Gavin, smiling, while the staff went back to their duties.
“You win,” he said resignedly as he patted his friend on the back. “I am not at my best today, but watch out, next time you will not be so lucky!”
Gavin laughed, then his expression changed to one of concern. “Ye look tired today,” he remarked. “Did ye no’ sleep well?”
Lachlan yawned. “I had an awful night,” he replied, “but I have too much to do to lie in bed all day, Gavin. The tenants’ rents are due tomorrow.”
“But maybe a wee rest would dae ye good,” Gavin pointed out. “Ye need tae take the weight off your shoulders for a while; runnin’ an estate by yourself isnae easy, is it? It is a while since ye had a day off.”
This was true, and Lachlan was aware that if he did not give himself time to relax for a while, there was a serious chance that he would burn out altogether.
“Have ye thought any more about hirin’ a steward?” Gavin asked, looking gravely at Lachlan. “Ye will be nae good tae man nor beast if ye work yourself intae the ground.”
“You’re right, Gavin.” Lachlan nodded slowly. “I have said a hundred times that I’ll do it, but I never seem to get around to it.” He sighed. He had been working too hard, but he knew that this was not the source of his problem. That problem was Jeannie, the bewitching woman whom he could not get out of his mind.
What would Sandrina think of her, he wondered? His wife had been a strong, determined woman who had made her mark on him forever, but he knew she would be happy for him if he moved forward with his life.
One evening after dinner they had discussed it, since that was the time of day when they were most relaxed and had leftwork behind them, and Davina was in bed. Now was “their time” as Sandrina had put it. Lachlan had looked forward to these few hours all day.
“What will you do when I am gone?” he had asked her one evening as he lay on the sofa with his head in her lap. It was his favourite place to be apart from in bed with her.
Sandrina stroked his hair and her dark eyes twinkled as she replied, “I will find the first rich Laird I can and drag him to the altar!” she said dramatically. Then they laughed, but after a moment her expression softened and became serious.
“I have no idea,” she said. “I know Davina and I won’t starve, and we will have a roof over our head, but I cannot imagine a day when there will be no Lachlan by my side. Nobody to love and support me, laugh at me, tease me and quarrel with me. Never leave me, Lachie, please. I love you so much.” Her expression was desperately sad.
“I could never leave you, Sandie,” he said tenderly. “You and Davina are my heart and soul.”
“And you are mine,” she replied, kissing him softly. “But Lachie, if anything were to happen to me, and you were left alone, I want you to know that you have my blessing to find someone else to love. You have so much love to give—don’t waste it.”
“Don’t think about it, my sweetheart,” he had replied. “Nothing will ever happen to part us.”
