A Year and a Day (24 page)

He knew that his rest would be
brief
, but
he
tried not to think too far into the future. He only wanted to collapse into his bed and sleep, reveling in the small comforts of a fire, and a properly cooked meal before returning to the front. Those prospects were the only thing that kept him going for the last few plodding miles.

Arriving at the castle, Ewan’s hopes of rest were quickly dashed. A messenger from the
Laird
arrived almost immediately, and took him to meet with his uncle. After a grueling, three hour meeting he was sent away- only to be confronted by his sister in the hall.

“
Lachlan
isn’t with you?” she said, white faced. She was carrying the new baby- yet another boy- in her arms and had two others trailing at her skirts. Ewan patted the eldest’s head distractedly.

“No, Muira,” he answered. Then, reading her fear, he added, “He had to stay behind. The MacRae’s need someone to lead them.

“You’ll take us back!” Muira retorted, her voice more of a command than a question. Her brother shook his head as firmly as he could manage, given his exhaustion.

“No!” In fact, he’d been given strict instructions by his brother-in-law to see that his little brood was carted even further away- to Glen Mohr if possible, but he didn’t have the energy to raise
that
issue with his sister yet. “We’ll discuss it in the morning,” he said at last.

Muira made a harrumphing sound, but nodded. She turned to go, but then stopped, “What did the letter from Cait say?” she asked curiously.

“What?” Ewan frowned.

“The letter from Cait- a messenger came from Glen Mohr a month ago. I thought he was headed to the front.”

“There wasn’t any letter,” Ewan said, his skin prickling with fear. He couldn’t imagine
why
Cait would write a letter.
What
if she were injured or sick? “
Are you certain that it was from my wife
?” he snapped.

“
Of course!”
Muira assured him. “I saw the handwriting. The lad wouldn’t let me see it though. He said that he was under strict instructions that no one could see it but you.” she must have read his expression, because she added. “The farmers have been up from Glen Mohr since the letter came. They said Cait was the picture of health.”

“Thank you,” Ewan responded- and then reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to care.

Thankfully, the
constant stress
of battle had kept his mind engaged in different, if equally unpleasant, musings. Now that he was home, he knew that he would be plagued once more with indecision.

Away from the castle, trapped in a life or death struggle for Cameron and MacRae survival, the reasons for pushing Cait out of his life- despite the fact that he loved her- had been a lot clearer and more persuasive. Now though, as he treaded back to his room-
their room
- and thought about the brief time they had shared there together, he was starting to weaken. Surely he had proven himself as a leader? Surely the Cameron’s could forgive him an English wife?

Ewan tried to push the thoughts away, but the memories were even stronger when he stepped inside his room. He and Cait had shared the place for only a few brief days. Still, everything seemed touched by her essence. He knew that it was impossible, but the room seemed to
smell
like her: a hint of lilac and honey.

He finally decided to quit resisting. As he
lay
in bed, he gave free reign to his imagination, and imagined seeing her again. Ewan’s eyelids dipped as the smell of lilacs faded from his mind, replaced with the memory of another, muskier scent that was still so essentially Cait.

Late the next morning, when he finally crawled out of bed, he was summoned before his uncle.

“Are you rested?” the old man asked, in a manner which implied that the answer was immaterial.

Ewan bobbed his head noncommittally.

“Good,”
Laird
Cameron said, “Because I need another favor.”

“Oh?”
 

His uncle sighed heavily, “It’s Muira,” he said. “
Laird
MacRae wants her to go to Glen Mohr.”

“And?” Ewan asked, confused, even as he envied his sister.

“And she won’t go! She’s got it into her head that she needs to head back to Eilean Donan- the threat of another siege apparently isn’t enough to drag her away.”

Ewan nodded and frowned. He knew too well how stubborn his sister could be once she put her mind toward being difficult. “What can I do?”
 

“Well,” the old
Laird
took a sip of wine, “I was thinking…perhaps you might have some business at Glen Mohr yourself,” Ewan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Had his uncle made yet another shift of opinion? If so, Ewan couldn’t think why- if anything, the long, bitter fight against Colonel Everleigh was making Cait
less
beneficial to have as a wife- even
he
could see that! “Business that your sister might be able to help with.”
 

“I don’t ken what you mean,” Ewan said, still frowning, his alarm growing when his uncle shot him a pitying look.

“Don’t you think that you owe the lass an explanation?” he asked his nephew.

Ewan’s brow furrowed. “Cait?”
 

“Aye…I had the impression...perhaps things weren’t quite so much a matter of convenience between you- I thought that you might want to break the news in person.”

“The news?”
 

“That you aren’t coming back,” the
Laird
said baldly, “That you’ve got to take another wife.”

Ewan’s horror at the statement must have shown, because the
Laird
looked apologetic again. “Ewan, I’m sorry. You know that I don’t want to meddle. God knows, you and James are the only thing close to a son that I’ve got left, and I’d like to see you have a little patch of happiness, but the Camerons won’t last without you. If you aren’t named
Laird
, the clan will fall apart. Half of ‘em will wind up Frasures and the others MacRaes, or going to the lowland cities…” he shook his head, and then offered, as if in consolation, “You can still keep the lass on the side. Nothing’s stopping you. You’ve just got to have another mother for your child.”

It was a long moment before Ewan trusted himself to speak, When he did, he concentrated on what the
Laird
had said earlier. “What has this got to do with Muira?” he asked quietly.

“Well, she’s Cait’s friend, isn’t she? And she’s your sister. Surely she’d want to smooth things over. Tell her that you need her for moral support, and to look after Cait when you come back.”

It would work.

Ewan nodded to the
Laird
, grudgingly admitting the brilliance of the plan. It would kill two birds with one stone: relo
cate
sister and break his ties to Cait. There was just one problem: he didn’t want his ties to Cait to be severed.

“Well?”

Ewan blinked when he realized that the lair was staring at him, “Of course,” he finally muttered, “I’ll go and speak to
Muira
now.”

“Good…good,” the
Laird
said, turning back to the papers s
cattered o
n his desk. Ewan took this as a sign that he was free to go. However, a voice called after him as he reached the door. “I’m sorry, Ewan,” his uncle said, sounding older and sadder than he ever had before. “Please believe me that I am.”

Ewan only nodded in return.

He knew that he was meant to go directly to his sister, but he did not. He wandered the halls of the castle, running trivial errands and seizing any possible delay of his task. Ultimately, however, he could prevent his duty no longer. He walked to the suite of rooms that Muira was using and knocked on the door.

The sound of children’s laughter was bubbling out into the hall. He knew that he would find his sister inside. Muira had never been the type to leave her children with
a nurse
if she could help it
. Now that the baby
had been born, she
had to stay even closer than usual
to give the little boy his
meals
.

Ewan knocked on the door before stepping inside. He was immediately swarmed by tiny bodies. Maisie, the oldest, shimmied
up
his legs and inserted herself into his arms, while Thomas and Duncan clung to his ankles. Even the baby managed to wriggle his plump arms in Ewan’s direction.

“Uncle Ewan! Uncle Ewan!” a chorus of voices chimed, “Did you come to tell us a story? Did you bring us a present? Stay and play!”

Ewan patted their heads proudly, gave Maisie a kiss, and then tried to extri
cate
himself from the clutch of little people. “I’ve come to speak with yer mum,” he announced, and cast his eyes toward Muira, who returned a suspicious glance.

“About what?”
Duncan
asked.

“Tell us! Tell us!” Maisie commanded.

“About taking you all on a trip,” Ewan said slowly, pointedly directing his comments to the children in the hopes that it would slip past Muira’s notice. Unfortunately, the tactic didn’t work. He could
feel
Muira angrily rising out of her chair before he ever looked up.

“If the
Laird
has
sent
you, Ewan Cameron,” she snarled, “then you can walk back out that door. The only trip that we’re taking is back to Eilean Donan!”
 

“Well, if that’s how you feel about doing your brother a favor…” he replied slowly, making a great show of being hurt.

Muira
quirked a brow suspiciously, “It’s no great favor to you to head off to someplace utterly useless while
my husband
is-”

“But that’s the point, Muira!” Ewan interrupted, “I
do
need you to do something for me. Something very important.”
 

“What?” Muira said, challenging him. She stood almost toe to toe with her brother, daring to look him in the eye. She was not overly small for a woman,
but looked miniscule in his sha
dow. Nevertheless, she didn’t balk.

Ewan took a deep breath. He was certain that none of the battles he’d fought in- even the siege of Eilean Donan- was as difficult as forcing himself to finally blurt, “I need you there for when I break things off with Cait.”

For a moment, there was perfect silence. Even the little MacRaes seemed to sense that something shocking had been said.

Muira’s mouth moved open and shut several times without making a sound, reminding Ewan of a gigantic fish. When she finally did manage a word, it was not what she expected. “
Kendra
!” she snapped. Almost instantly, one of the castle servants bustled inside. Muira handed over
the baby
, and then pointed to his brothers and sister, “The children would like to be taken for a walk.”

“What? No we don’t mummy!” Maisie wailed.

“We want to stay with uncle Ewan!” Thomas added.

Duncan
bobbed his head, “I want to see the fighting!”

Happily,
Kendra
was too wise to expect that the children’s protests might be considered. “Come on with you now,” she said, herding them toward the doorway, pausing only long enough to pick up cloaks and wraps. “I think there was some sort of interesting fish cook had down in the kitchen- why don’t we go and take a look.?”

Despite protests, the kindly old woman managed to herd the gaggle of children out of the room and into the hall. Ewan listened to their voices fading, wishing that he could follow, until they finally disappeared. Almost at that instant, Muira lunged toward him. “Break things off with Cait?” she nearly shouted, “Are you
insane
???”