Forgiving Hearts: Duncurra 1-3 (75 page)

“That too. And very grateful to my king for his interference in my life.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her tenderly. She wrapped her arms around him, returning his kiss full measure.

Katherine was right. Rhiannon never regained consciousness again. She lingered for another day, fighting her own demons in delirium but ultimately died in the wee hours of the morning the next day. When preparing her body for burial, Katherine found the bag containing the foxglove and other questionable herbs tied under Rhiannon’s skirts.

Fingal sent men down into the bolt hole to ensure that the door to the natural caves was barred from the inside. He suspected that it hadn’t been barred in years, perhaps not since Rhiannon lived at the keep. They discussed this at dinner one evening.

Nolan said, “Ye may as well seal that door. If anyone made their way through the tunnel and into the caves, they would have little hope of making it out without knowing the way.”

“It has crossed my mind,” agreed Fingal. “I have already taken steps to have the entrance in our room barred from this side. Still, knowing that if the worst happened our wives and children could escape is a comforting thought.”

Owen asked, “What was it Rhiannon said as yer men brought her through the opening?”

“I’ve been thinking about that too Owen,” Fingal said. “She told them to go the other way because she was afraid of Bodie. She said, ‘I told ye, left out right in.’”

“Aye, that was it. I’ve heard that said about labyrinths. If ye put yer hand on one wall and keep it there, ye will eventually reach the center.”

Fingal nodded. “Aye, but ye could wander for ages in caves like that.”

“Perhaps not in this one. Perhaps that is the clue. Turn left and put yer left hand on the wall as ye enter the caves. The reverse would be true if ye entered from the outside. Left to go out, right to come in.”

“That could be it. It will be easy enough to check,” agreed Fingal.

The next day he sent men down to test the theory. “Stay to the left. If ye don’t reach the exit eventually, turn around and stay to the right. It will bring ye back to the door.”

They were gone for hours. Fingal was ready to send men searching for them, when they arrived at the gates of Brathanead. It had worked. The simplicity was brilliant. With the door to the cave secured again and a locking mechanism on the door from their chamber, Fingal no longer worried about anyone secretly gaining access to Brathanead.

~ * ~

Gillian avoided her mother for several days but she could put it off no longer. She and Fallon sat in the solar and listened to their mother’s explanations.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t love yer father Gillian but I had loved Malcolm from the time I was a little girl. I thought he loved me too but his father forced him to marry Nuala MacRea.”

“Ye thought he loved ye?” Fallon asked.

“Aye, pet. Ye can tell when a lad loves ye. He can’t keep his hands off ye.”

Sweet, innocent Fallon snorted. “Mother, I’m not sure that is love.”

“What do either of ye know about love?” she snapped back.

“I know that a man who loves me will show me respect. He may desire me but would never compromise or hurt me in any way,” Fallon answered.

Lana snorted this time. “Ye’re a dreamer Fallon. Men like that don’t exist.”

Gillian frowned. “Nay she isn’t, Mother. Men like that do exist. Fingal is one and Da was too. I believe Da loved ye. He showed ye respect and affection. He would never have hurt ye. Surely ye know that?” Thinking of what her mother had done caused her heart to ache for her da.

Lana sniffed. “I guess he did, in his way. But it was different with Malcolm. We had a great passion.”

Fallon rolled her eyes. “It was a great passion because he couldn’t keep his hands off ye? Mother, how blind can ye be? He couldn’t keep his hands off of Eithne and who knows how many other women either.”

Lana looked hurt. Fallon reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry, Mother. Evidently ye have clung to this idea that Malcolm was the great love of yer life for years now. But it was Da who truly loved ye.”

“Malcolm is yer da.”

“Nay he isn’t. My da is the man who raised me, and loved me. If Malcolm had wanted to be a father, he could have been. Although, it would have broken Da’s heart, so I am glad he didn’t.”

“Someday ye’ll see, Fallon. When the laird finally decides to settle ye with some ally of his, ye will see what it’s like.”

“I have no intention of marrying. Who would have me now? As soon as things here are settled, I intend to enter a convent.”

“Ye will do no such thing. Ye are Malcolm MacLennan’s daughter and don’t forget that.”

“Stop it, Mother. I am Malcolm MacLennan’s daughter outside of marriage and I’m not proud of that! I was Duncan MacLennan’s daughter.”

Lana stood. “Ye will not enter a convent. I won’t have it.” With that she turned and left the room.

Fallon shook her head. “She doesn’t understand.”

“And she probably never will, Fallon,” Gillian agreed. “I don’t suppose we can control who we love. For whatever reason, Mother thought she loved Malcolm. It has colored the way she has seen everything else in her life, including ye.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t yer fault. But I agree with her about one thing.”

“What?”

“Ye don’t belong in a convent.”

“I have no other choice. As I said, no one will want to marry me now.”

Gillian grinned slyly. “Quinn MacKenzie wants to marry ye.”

Tears filled Fallon’s eyes. “His father would never agree to that, even if Fingal was inclined to ask.”

“Not only is Fingal inclined to ask, he already has and Laird MacKenzie agreed.”

Fallon looked up, hopefully. “He did? Really? When?”

“Quinn delivered Fingal’s letter to him when he went to Rowan’s wedding.”

Fallon looked crestfallen. “That was before everyone knew the truth. Everything has changed.”

“Nothing has changed. Fingal is the laird of this clan and Malcolm’s illegitimate son. Ye are my sister as well as his. The betrothal has been signed.” Gillian suppressed a grin at Fallon’s hopeful expression. “Of course, if ye feel a profound calling to the religious life, we won’t prevent that. It is a valid reason to break a betrothal.”

“Nay, I don’t. I mean—I-I—”

“I know what ye mean, Fallon. I think Quinn is a better choice for ye too.”

~ * ~

Fingal thought it best to allow things to settle before they announced the betrothal between Fallon and Quinn. They planned a huge celebration to coincide with the feast of St. John the Baptist, over a month later. Of course Laird and Lady MacKenzie were in attendance as were the MacIans and the Chisholms. Quinn’s sisters Mairead and Annag came with their families. Mairead was married to Tadhg Matheson, a good friend of both Fingal and Quinn’s. Annag was married to Laird MacBain, Bran’s brother. A group of MacKays traveled from the northern Highlands also. Fingal still hoped Laird MacKay would allow his nephew, Dougal, to begin training as his squire. The celebration was a huge sign to all the Highland clans that the MacLennans were strong once again.

In addition to the betrothal, there was much to celebrate. Gillian had long since recovered from the poisoning. Fingal too was nearly back to normal. Katherine said he could remove the splint, as long as he didn’t put too much strain on his arm.

Eadoin was practically bursting with pride because Alana had given birth to a fine healthy son at the end of May.

Tadhg too had glad tidings, announcing that Mairead was expecting their first child in November.

But Turcuil did something that surprised everyone. As planned, when the MacIans returned to Duncurra in May, Turcuil had stayed behind at Brathanead to help train the MacLennan men. However, Edna returned to Duncurra. This was the first time the shy, smitten giant had seen the object of his affection in over a month. At one point in the evening he stood and called for silence. It took a few moments to subdue the crowd of merry-makers, but when the hall was quiet, he took Edna by the hand, walked with her to the middle of the hall, and knelt on one knee in front of her. She looked flustered and confused.

“Edna, I don’t know pretty words. I wish I did. I would tell ye how very beautiful ye are. I would say how much I have missed ye this last month. How my heart ached just to see yer smile or hold yer hand. I would tell ye what fine children ye have and what a good mother ye are. I would tell ye that I cannot live another day apart from ye. But I’m not good with words and they would probably come out all wrong. I would offer ye my heart, but it was yers long ago. So I am just going to say, Edna, please be my wife.”

“Oh Turcuil, of course I will. Now get up ye big eejit.” Tears streamed down her face as he stood, lifted her in his arms, and kissed her soundly to roars of approval from the crowd.

~ * ~

Ailsa’s world had turned upside down too many times to count in the last year. Her father died. Then months later her aunt died. Then the king made her sister marry Fingal MacIan. That turned out to be a pretty good thing. “Duff, he gave ye to me in spite of Mother.” She rubbed the large black dog’s head and he laid it in her lap.

Then terrible things began to happen. Agnes died and Gillie
lost the baby
. Ailsa still wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. Then Gillie got sick. The MacBains came to live at Brathanead and that was a very good thing. She loved having Maeve to play with. She didn’t even have to share Duff anymore because Blaze needed a home after Rhiannon died.

Rhiannon. That was the worst thing that happened. Rhiannon nearly killed Gillian and Fingal. She died because Bodie bit her. Ailsa knew she should feel sorry for her but she didn’t. Before she died, Rhiannon said things that upset Mother and Fallon. Da wasn’t Fallon’s father after all—but he was still Fallon’s da. Ailsa didn’t understand that at all.

Of all the good and bad things that had happened, perhaps the one Ailsa liked best was Quinn MacKenzie coming. Ailsa had never met anyone like him. He was funny and nice like Fingal. He was handsome and strong too. Everyone liked him. Ailsa decided that Quinn might be the most perfect person she had ever met. She told Maeve that when she grew up, she wanted to marry Quinn. Now the entire clan was celebrating because Fallon is going to marry Quinn at the end of the summer.

She sat on the floor with her back to the wall, morosely watching the festivities. Maeve was dancing with her father. Maeve said Ailsa could dance with her father too, but she didn’t feel like dancing or celebrating. She could tell Fallon was happy and she knew that should make her happy, but she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

A tall skinny lad with wavy brown hair wandered through the people dancing and stopped in front of her. “Can I pet him?”

Ailsa nodded, “If ye want to.”

The boy bent down and scratched Duff behind the ears before stroking the smooth black fur on Duff’s back. “Can I sit down?”

“If ye want to.”

The boy sat down on the other side of Duff. “I like dogs. Does he have a name?”

“Of course he has a name. It’s Duff.”

He pulled his knees up under his chin. He sure was skinny.

“I’m Dougal MacKay.”

“I’m Ailsa.”

“Are ye a MacLennan or one of the visitors?”

“I’m a MacLennan. Lady MacLennan is my sister.”

“Oh.” He rubbed Duff’s belly for a few moments. “Is she nice?”

“Of course she’s nice.”

“What about the laird, is he nice?”

Ailsa was about to tell the lad to go away and leave her alone when she looked at his face for the first time. His grey eyes glistened and he looked suspiciously like he was trying not to cry. “What’s the matter?”

He rubbed his eyes quickly and looked away. “Nothing.”

“Yeah, nothing is the matter with me either.”

He turned his head to look at her. “Are ye sad too?”

Ailsa nodded, suddenly feeling rather close to tears herself.

“What’s wrong? Was someone mean to ye? Just tell me who.” Although he seemed close to tears a moment ago now he looked poised to do battle.

“Nay, it isn’t anything like that. I just had my heart set on marrying someone and now he’s marrying someone else.”

Dougal relaxed. “Aren’t ye a little young to get married? What are ye, eleven?”

“Twelve.” How could he possibly think she was eleven?

“Oh. Well, that’s still young to get married. Who is it ye wanted to marry, anyway?”

“Quinn MacKenzie,” she said as if the world was coming to an end. “He is absolutely perfect and it turns out he’s marrying my sister Fallon.

“Oh.” He nodded sagely.

Ailsa didn’t want to think about her permanently broken heart any more. She asked, “How old are ye?”

“I’m almost fifteen.”

“Almost fifteen isn’t an age.”

“Well, I’ll be fifteen soon.”

“How soon?”

“October.”

“It’s June. That’s not almost October. I think ye should just say ye are fourteen.”

Dougal scowled at her. “Fine. I’m fourteen. That’s still better than twelve.”

Ailsa nodded her head. “Aye, it is.” They both patted Duff for a few moments before Ailsa asked, “So Dougal MacKay, why are ye sad?”