Page 22 of Mending a Highland Heart

Liam sighed and looked at Fergus as if he was going to punch him. “Keep up, lad. Last night, I was accompanying the mistress as she visited her patients. Ye knew that I was there. But she fell in the rain and hit her head.”

Fergus nodded again. “Aye, I see. But, now she’s gone.”

“Aye!” Angus yelled, fed up with the conversation. “So, there is nae reason why we must go over it again and again. The lass is gone. She is gone for good! ‘Tis nae matter. She is just a Sassenach come tae visit her cousin. Now that her cousin is nae here, ‘tis no reason for her tae stay among us.”

He turned around and left, unable to contain his anger anymore. Fergus yelled from behind him with mirth in his voice, “Och, so now we see what angers ye this morning, lad!”

Angus did not reply but entered the castle from the back door and climbed up the servant’s staircase, hoping to avoid as many people as he could. He went straight to his study and removed his shirt, using it to soak up the sweat that trailed down the crevice in his back and the lines of his torso. He glistened in the firelight as he leaned over the hearth, still breathing hard.

I’m turning intae a foolish man, all this over a woman.

He wiped his face then and put his shirt back on to sit behind the desk. He pulled a list out from under the piles of papers and then stood to call for Mrs. MacLean to join him. It was time to start thinking about the clan and not just the needs of his body or, he feared, his heart.

* * *

“My dear Charlotte!” General Andrews cried as she approached the Fort. She rushed towards him, and he folded her into a tight embrace.

“Hello, Father,” she said. Despite everything, she was glad to see him and felt safe in his presence. He smiled at her, kindly.

“My watchmen saw you approaching from the battlements. We expected the messenger boy back today, but we expected him to bring back your letter, not you yourself! What a pleasant surprise!”

Charlotte smiled, and she wrapped her arm in his as they walked into the main room of the Fort. “I do hope I have not inconvenienced you greatly, Father. I know that I am earlier than you requested, but once I saw your message, I thought it best to come as soon as possible and help you prepare for the arrival of the Earl of Oxford. What is his name?”

The lie came to her so easily and smoothly, she hoped that he would not question her any further about her early arrival. She was feeling like her old self in his presence: calm, collected, confident, not undone, unkind, and unfettered like in the presence of Angus.

“His name is Mortimer Darling, and he is rather a well-connected man. The King wishes him to accompany me here and assist in whatever needs doing. He fears there are some rumors of war in the air.”

Charlotte scrunched up her nose. “I seem to remember hearing that name before, and maybe even seeing him a time or two at balls and functions. But, we have moved around so much, Father, ‘tis hard to keep track.”

He chuckled and placed a hand on hers. “You are right, daughter. I am sorry for that. But perhaps one day, with your marriage, we can live a life of stationary luxury.”

The comment was made lightly and without force, but Charlotte tensed as she remembered her father’s words. It was time to think of her marriage, and she knew that he tired of military life and wished to retire in peace. She knew that was on her to provide since she was his only heir. Her uncle, her father’s eldest brother, had inherited the country estate, and with three sons as his posterity, there was no chance her father would end up becoming a country squire, filling his days with nothingness.

She tried to smile and nod along to his words, and her father took her into the main room and set her down in a chair at the long table in the center. The Fort was large, and while not completely lacking in coziness, it was mostly sharp and harsh, decorated with military insignia, weapons, and flags, a sharp contrast to the beautiful Great Hall of Duart Castle.

She closed her eyes once more to stem the flow of pain that started to seep through her. As her father called for tea to be brought for him and his beautiful daughter, Charlotte sat with her hands in her lap and thought, what a horrible mistake I have made.

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