Page 54 of Tempting the Highland Devil
He stared at the lad’s fingers. The nails were broken and dirt filled. His clothes were torn in too many places.
Arran sighed. “Take them to the castle; offer them a warm bath and food. I shall speak with them later.”
James nodded and turned to order the guards to take the lad and his sister away. While Arran and James continued their inspection around the village, Arran finally found the courage to ask the question burning the back of his mind.
“Are there many villagers sufferin’ this way? Bairns without parents? And …” he could barely finish his sentence as the weight of his guilt burned down on his heart.
“I have provided a means to care for the bairns who had nay parents. Guards and servants from the castle bring them food every evenin’, and they gather in the village square to eat the little we give. It is never enough, though.”
And all this while I dined and enjoyed myself around the world.He had not let himself care about his clan because he thought he had damaged them too much to be saved.
He had feared of becoming like his father—becoming consumed by greed and power. But in the end, ignoring his clan and the people made him just like his father who cared for only himself.
“Triple the portions of food sent to the villagers and add fruits. Also, I shall share the food with them alongside with wool and blankets to shield them from the cold.”
“The castle may nay be able to provide all this food, me laird.”
“Then have the chief cook cut down on me portions. I shall eat less…Pay the farmers for their produce and use that to feed the villagers. I shall write to my good friend, Laird MacLennan, and ask for his help. His clan is well loved, and he shall help me secure alliances for better trade deals.”
Arran heaved out a deep breath and rubbed a hand over his chin.
He had a responsibility now.To me clan and the people.And also, to Yvaine. Perhaps this way, he could finally be worthy of her love. He hoped it would not be too late by then.
* * *
He watched Yvaine from a distance as she strolled the garden with her servant following her every step. She seemed happy, she laughed with ease, and the windy afternoon carried the subtle tinkle of her sounds to him.
Arran forgot all about the men he trained as he watched her. His heart pounded with a force that left him breathless, and the ache he carried with him every day intensified.
He had tried to distract himself last night at a pub in the village with James and some of his trusted men. Arran could not bring himself to enjoy the dancers’ performance or even the ale he was served.
There was a time when he would have spent the entire night in there, but instead, he had returned to his castle and buried himself in work.
The man he trained caught him unawares while Arran stared at the woman he craved more than anything else in the world. The other man tackled Arran to the ground, but Arran recovered quickly, rolled over him, and stabbed his sword into the ground to show that he had won.
They both chuckled, and Arran extended a hand to help his guard off the ground. The guard bowed then hurried away from Arran, leaving him with James, who seemed to be the only one he could talk to these days.
“Yer councilmen have arrived for the meetin’, me laird. I must warn ye, there seems to be some displeasure about yer decision to feed the villagers. They dinnae think the castle should take on those decisions on its own.”
“They want me to seek their approval before I care for my own people?”
“Tread carefully, me laird. These are treacherous men, some of whom served under yer faither, and they must nay perceive ye as weak else they will sabotage yer rule,” James advised. “I shall stand with whatever decisions ye make, always.”
James bowed his head after he spoke, and Arran felt a tiny prick in his heart as he stared at his man-at-arms. “Why?” he asked, his throat tightening with emotions as he wondered why James was genuinely loyal to him. “Why do ye trust me to make the right decisions? I am me faither’s son, remember? The laird who killed his own people for defyin’ him? Who waged wars for nay reason?”
“Ye are naythin’ like yer faither, me laird,” James answered. “I always believed that ye were different after ye saved me faither’s life durin’ the war.”
Arran frowned now, and James smiled at him. “I was a wee lad myself, nay much younger than ye were when ye fought in the war. Me faither was Phillip Barclay, and he served in yer faither’s army. He fought by yer side, and he always told me of how ye took care of the soldiers and protected many, riskin’ yer life every time to save theirs.”
“The war was me fault. I thought I was avengin’ my maither the entire time.”
“Ye are still a good man, me laird, and ye deserve me loyalty. Dinnae ever think that ye dinnae. There are many of us who will die for yer cause in a heartbeat.”
James left him contemplating those words for a long time. Arran always believed he was alone in the world after his maither died. He had believed he could not be loved, and he could not let himself desire anything because he did not deserve it.
Now he had James’s undying loyalty, and Yvaine…a woman he desired, begging him to love her.
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