A Year and a Day (27 page)

“You look a little pale,” he remarked carefully, settling into the seat beside her.

“Thank you,” she snapped, frowning.

“I didn’t mean that you looked bad!” Ewan defended, “Just…”

“Well, thank you for your
expert
medical opinion, Mr. Cameron, but I’m sure that I’m just fine. I’m…tired.”
 

“From what?”

“Ewan! Stop!”

Ewan threw up his hands in annoyance. “What’s going on Cait?”
 

“What do you mean?”
 

“You aren’t acting like yourself.”

“How am I meant to act? Am I merely supposed to smile and nod and agree with everything you say? Fine! I’ll take a walk with you.”

“Nevermind.”
 

“No, I insist,” Cait hissed, pushing back from the table and standing. It would serve Ewan right if she overexerted herself and lost the baby. Maybe if she was lucky, she’d die too, and then he could live with the guilt!

Some of her fury must have shown on her face, because Ewan was very careful when he took her arm, “Cait? We really, don’t-“

“Let’s just
go
!”

Wisely falling silent, Ewan helped Cait into her wrap, and then led her out the door. They waved to his sister as they turned onto the dusty little road in front of the farm and started across the bridge.

It really
was
a beautiful day for a stroll. The farther that they went, the more that Cait regretted her fit of temper. She wasn’t ready to apologize, but she tried to demonstrate her contrition by folding her arm around Ewan’s own and snuggling closer to him as they walked.

“I’ve never been this way before,” she remarked, when the silence grew too thick.

Ewan turned toward her, his face as mask of wariness and relief. “I don’t make the trip too often myself. It’s strange when you think of it- just across the water…and yet, we always went to the village if we needed anything. I can’t say I’ve been on Frasure land more than a handful of times.”

“Oh? Are we on Frasure lands now?” Cait asked, her face perking with interest.

Ewan nodded, “Yes. Didn’t you know?” When Cait shook her head in the negative, he continued, “Why?”
 

“Oh…nothing, I guess,” Cait said, cheeks flushing. “It’s just…a story my mum used to tell.”
 

“About what?”
 

“Really more about who…” Her hand trailed absently to the neck of her gown and fingered a fine silver chain hung there. “She…used to be friendly with one of the
Laird
’s sons once, I think,” Cait said, blushing to recall her mother’s definition of “friendliness”.

“Which one?” Ewan said, frowning.

Cait shrugged, “I can’t say that I know.”

“One of the
Laird
’s sons is dead,” Ewan remarked. “The other is with us at Eilean Donan.”

“
Laird
’s sons seem to lead dangerous lives these days,” Cait remarked sadly.

Ewan nodded, “Aye, but Davie Frasure’s been gone more than twenty years.”

“What happened to him?” Cait asked, not truly as curious as she sounded, but grateful that a bit of the tension between she and her husband had been soothed.

“Well, the full story never came out,” Ewan said, “at least, not that I ever heard completely, but most of it has been passed around in gossip a time or two. My old tutor was a Frasure, and I heard it from him…” he said, kicking licking his lips before beginning the tale. “Davie Frasure was the younger son of the
Laird
, and set to marry one of the lassies in the clan. The girl was a little bit older I think. It wasn’t a love match, but her father owned a lot of land on the far side of the clan’s holdings that the
Laird
wanted to bring back into the main property…” he shook his head to stop himself from trailing off into the details that were important to a tanist, but not the world at large, “In any event, the lassie was quite taken with young Davie, but he wanted no part of her. He confronted his parents a few days before the wedding and told them that he
wouldn’t take the
girl. When they didn’t relent, he confessed something more.”

Cait leaned toward him, utterly absorbed in the tale. Ewan was a master storyteller, she thought proudly. She’d heard him before, regaling his mates and assembled guests in the hall with tales of battle, and fairy lore that he’d heard from the crofters in his travels. He could make even the most mundane of events- something as simple as donning a
shirt
- magically mysterious, or side-grippingly funny, depending on his mood.

He was going to be such a wonderful father
…Cait couldn’t prevent the thought, and then she couldn’t stop a surge of tears from welling up in her eyes.
Not to her children
,
she thought, achingly sad for the child nestled in her womb- the child that Ewan had already declared that he could never love.

“What did he confess?” Cait asked, her curiosity momentarily stronger than her grief.

“Well,” Ewan said, kicking a stone that was sitting in the road, “He told them that he’d already gotten another girl in trouble- a
lady
he claimed, not just some farmers daughter that they could quiet with a bit of money and passage to the lowlands.”

“What lady?” Cait asked, gasping.

“They never knew,” Ewan replied. “They figured it wasn’t a Frasure. All their fine lassies were accounted for, so to speak,” he said with a wink. “Maybe the lady was already married? There were a few bairns born to the noble ladies that spring that got a second look from their papas, I’m sure- but no one knew for sure.”

“
Davie
didn’t ever say?”
 

“He couldn’t,” Ewan said, “The very next morning, when his parents refused to budge, he was gone. They didn’t hear anything from him for half a year- and then what they got back was a body.”

“Oh, no!” Cait said, clapping her hand over her mouth. “What happened?”

“He was involved in a skirmish. The details weren’t clear. He fought with an English officer over a woman…and he came out the loser. He wasn’t killed in the fight, but they hanged him without a trial. They didn’t even send back his signet ring,” Ewan said in disgust. “His mother didn’t believe it was true until his brother went down to bring him home. By then, the girl- and her baby if it existed- was gone.”

Cait nodded her head glumly, the tale of the forgotten woman and baby striking frighteningly close to home. Ewan noticed her pensive look and frowned. He drew her closer and popped a heavy kiss on her cheek. “It was a long time ago,” he said, by way of finishing the story. “I’m sure that the girl and her baby- whoever they were- turned out fine. He squeezed her hand, “Actually, it’s better for me if they never turn up.”

“Oh?” Cait finally broke free of her melancholy long enough to query.

Ewan nodded, “The baby would be heir to all this land. Old
Laird
Frasure’s other son never had a child, and so he’s willing to sell it to me cheap for money that the family can spend right now, since they don’t have anyone to leave it to. It will just escheat to the next
Laird
when they’re gone.”

Cait finally looked around, noticing her surroundings. It was just as picturesque as Glen Mohr, but it was brighter on the soft slopes of the hill.

“It’s incredible farmland,” Ewan said, gesturing toward the fields that looked as though they had lain fallow for decades. “There’s pasture higher on the slopes too. The Frasures haven’t worked it in years.”

“Why not?” Cait asked.

Ewan shrugged, “They’re cordial with the lowlanders and more interested in trade. It’s more of a buffer space than anything, but I’d like to add it to our property, if I can.” He turned toward her, offering a surprisingly earnest gaze, “Do you like it?”
 

Cait blinked in surprise at the question. What did it matter if she liked it? She thought, feeling a bit of her temper return. She had been dragged out here on Ewan’s whim- the same motivation for everything she did these days- and wasn’t in the mood to offer flattering compliments. When she looked around, however, she realized that wasn’t necessary. It
was
beautiful. This point of the road was lined with apple trees. The blossoms were floating down to the ground like a springtime snow.

“There,” Ewan said when they topped a small crest, “There it is…what do you think?”

Cait followed his finger, and then gasped when she finally saw what he was pointing to: the most darling cottage that she had ever
seen
. It was made of whitewashed stone and topped with a
dark
slate roof. The
door was painted a cheerful re
d, and there were pretty black grates in all the windows
. The
windowboxes were
empty, but
they
would be charming when overflowing with flowers.

“Oh! It’s adorable!” she exclaimed, walking faster. She was being truthful. She’d never seen such a darling house. There was a shed behind it, and a barn too small for more than a pair of horses. It wasn’t terrible functional for a farm, but it was incredibly beautiful.

“So, you like it then?”
 

“Of course!” Cait replied.

“So we should buy it?”
 

“We?” Cait blinked, not understanding to whom he was referring. “You and James?”
 

“No, silly goose,” Ewan said, dropping a kiss on her nose, “Me and you.”

"Us?" Cait asked in disbelief.

Ewan smiled back at her. "Yes, us. What's wrong with that?'

"Nothing," Cait replied, and then frowned, "Only...we have Glen Mohr. What do we need another cottage for?"

Ewan shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking suddenly guilty. "I just thought you might like it," he muttered after a pause.  He plucked a leaf off of one of the apple trees and shreded it between his fingers as he remained silent for a moment.  When he spoke again, his voice was strained. "Do you want to look inside?"

"Yes," Cait answered, curious, but afraid to ask Ewan for more details. She hesitated at the door, however. "Doesn't it belong to the Frasures?"

"I'm sure they won't mind," Ewan said confidently. Then, without further delay, he opened the door.

The interior had clearly been neglected. Dust and cobwebs fairly covered the walls and floors. Most of the
furnishings had been removed,
but the size of the rooms, and the tiny details of the windows and doors were still enchanting. Cait felt vaguely disloyal to admit it, but she preferred it to Glen Mohr. It was cozier than the larger house, and more filled with light. She could imagine raising a family here.

Cait's heart filled nearly to bursting as, for just a moment, she let herself revisit her fantasy from only a day before: That Ewan would be ecstatic about the news he was going to father a child, that he would be so pleased with her, so exctied, that he wouldn't want her to go away when the year was through. Like a bubble that had grown overlarge, however, the blissful daydream swiftly burst. Ewan did NOT want the baby.  He did NOT want her. Teasing her with the promise of a future was cruel.

"Cait?" Ewan asked, looking over his shoulder from where he had been thoughtfully considering one of the upstairs rooms. When she didn't answer, he walked toward her and took her hand. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm not feeling well," Cait said in a shakey voice. "I'd like to go home now, if I could."

"Of course!" Ewan agreed, concern etched into his handsome face. Cait really did look grey and pasty.  He would never forgive himself if he'd exerted her too much that
day. "We'll discuss it later,"
Ewan assured her, and then led her back home.