Kate Robbins - The Highland Chiefs Series 03 (6 page)

He nodded and left the chapel. Freya knew what it was like to lose a child, but not one full term. Her heart was ready to break in two with anguish for Nessia’s loss and the memory of her own. The sadness had nearly consumed her. Then came the guilt. Had she done something wrong to cause the miscarriage? Surely, Nessia had not.

Freya left the chapel to seek the place of solace she knew best.

Heading up the footpath to Castle Varrich was like drinking something cool on a hot day. Knowing the peace she found sitting at its base and looking out over the kyle quickened her steps. Strands of her hair had come loose during the birthing and she had not bothered to rebraid. She must look a fright!

The closer she came to the watch tower, the faster she climbed, so that by the end, she was almost running toward it.

When she reached the summit, her tears flowed like a stream after spring rains. Her chest ached, both from her run, and from pent up emotion. She doubled over on her favourite rock and let the anguish take over. For two years she had suppressed the agony of dealing with such a loss alone. She really did not know if she was capable of helping Nessia as she was close to falling into darkness again.

“Freya!” Ronan’s voice rippled through her.

She did not want to have to face anyone now and especially not him.

He wrapped his arms around her, the action bring with it a fresh wave of agony. Why could not they have been together? Losing him in addition to their child had been too much to take, so she had suppressed it. Today’s events seemed to have broken the dam.

“’Twill be well again, love. I have you,” he whispered.

She would know that voice anywhere. “Oh, God! Ronan, she lost the babe!” She cried for Nessia and Fergus, for herself, and for Ronan.

“Shhhh. I am here.”

Ronan’s strong arms enveloped her and rocked her, bringing the comfort she craved until her tears subsided. Once her tears were spent, she leaned back to find that he, too, had red eyes. Had he wept as well?

Freya tried sitting up, realizing their contact was dangerous and inappropriate. “Thank you, Ronan.”

His arms tightened around her. “You are not going anywhere.”

“Ronan, please. I am well now.”

“You are not, and we have much to discuss.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you weep for Nessia and Fergus and their loss. But you also weep for our loss as well.” He said, his gaze downcast.

Did he really grieve too? How could she not have assumed he would? So caught up with her own feelings, she never assumed anyone else felt the same way.

“Ronan, ’twas a long time ago and much has changed since then.”

“Aye, ’twas a long time ago. Some things may have changed, but not you and I.” He reached up and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You are mine, Freya. You always have been, and you always be.”

A flutter began deep in Freya’s belly. Being in his arms moments before had been for comfort, but now brought out other feelings; carnal ones.

“It can never be and you know it.”

“I know nothing of the sort. True you are promised to another, but hear me, love. I will find a way to break that commitment.”

Freya gasped. “Ronan, you would risk the bond between the MacKay and MacKenzie clans for your own wishes?”

He smiled and her belly coiled. “I would. And do you know why I would?” He leaned in close to her brushing his lips across hers.

“Ronan—”

“I would risk it because you are more concerned about it than the man for which you are intended. Had your first thought been of Rorie MacKenzie, I would not be so certain of your feelings. Your wish to prevent a clan feud is honourable, and believe me, I do not wish that either.”

Again he leaned in and brushed his lips across hers, this time his other hand came up to cup her face.

“We cannot do this,” she whispered.

He leaned back and searched her gaze. “You are right. We cannot. Not until I find a way to break your bond and retain the friendship between the clans.” Despite his words, he claimed her mouth.

Freya’s heart drummed in her chest as he explored her mouth. Her core clenched in anticipation of the passion her body remembered between them.

Without warning, he broke the kiss. “You want me as much as I want you, Freya. I am on fire for you. I want nothing more but to bury myself in your sweetness again and again until neither of us can stand it anymore.” He trailed kisses down her neck and nipped her collar bone with his teeth.

Just then, a breeze swept up over the embankment, reminding her of where she was and what she could so easily let happen. She broke free from him, trying hard not to focus on his desire filled eyes or his sensual lips. He was pure temptation and made a whore of her.

She leapt to her feet.

“No, Ronan. I belong to another. You cannot have me!” Before he could react, she dashed back down the path and ran all the way back to MacKay house, and did not pause until she was inside her bedchamber with the door bolted. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the door. How in heaven’s name could she possibly get through the next fortnight with him in proximity?

Chapter Five

When Ronan entered the great hall, he was surprised to discover it crowded with people in the midst of what appeared to be a celebration. A child had died and yet everyone appeared happy about it. What strange custom was this?

Allain caught his eye and moved toward him, the man’s countenance solemn. “Where have you been? You have missed all the excitement.”

“I went to the watchtower to think our plan through.” He was a terrible liar and Allain knew it.

“Aye, and a certain flaming haired lass had nothing to do going to that location to think, I suppose.”

Ronan did not even try to pretend what his captain said was false. He told him of their encounter, leaving out the very personal details, and said that he had only meant to comfort her on her loss.

“Aye, there was a short time when the place was about to be consumed in grief over the child’s death. But all is well, you see, a miracle has happened.”

“Aye, Ronan,” Freya said from behind him, her voice washing over his skin and exciting him to his very core. He turned to see her smiling face and his heart ached at the sight. God how he wanted her! “I neglected to tell you that a wee lassie was born just before the laddie. He had not taken breath and so we thought the worst. Turns out he just needed his sister to lie near him and when his mother did just that, he screamed the house down.”

Her eyes misted as she recounted the tale. “Fergus and Nessia have two new bairns to celebrate and the entire village is here to celebrate with them. Come,” she said taking his hand. “Let me show them to you.”

Ronan thrilled at the heat stemming from where their hands made contact. He squeezed his fingers around hers and she responded by tossing a grin over her shoulder. His loins tightened. He must speak with Fergus to help figure out a way for them to be together. There was no way she could ever belong to another.

When they arrived at the hearth, his heart constricted. Fergus, the great giant of a man, sat with a bairn on each arm and a smile from ear to ear.

“Congratulations, Fergus,” Ronan said with genuine appreciation.

Fergus’s gaze flicked to where Freya and Ronan’s hands connected, his brow furrowing. “Thank you, Ronan. ’Tis a good day.”

“I am pleased all has turned out well.”

Fergus laughed. “As am I, lad. It seems my bairns wanted their father around when they came into the world.”

Ronan risked a glance at Freya who still held fast to his hand. Her gaze was fixed on the babes. She squeezed his hand and he did the same. It was as though this event could heal the terrible loss they had both endured.

“Freya,” Fergus said. “Help me bring them back to their mother now. We don’t want to wear them out.”

When Freya released his hand, the immediate loss of contact was measurable. She took the lassie in her arms and cooed to her. Ronan could easily envision this woman bearing their children. In that moment, he wanted nothing more.

His gaze followed her out of the hall as she stopped to let villagers have a peek along the way. Fergus stopped beside him with his own squirming bundle.

“I see it in your eyes, lad,” he said. “But she is promised to another.”

Ronan locked gazes with Fergus, his biggest ally right now and the one person he could not betray or whose allegiance he could not jeopardize.

“ I know that, Fergus,” he said. “I just—” He just what? What could he say? There was no solution he could think of that would not end in a damaged bond between two clans. He could kick himself in the backside a thousand times for letting her go. He raked a hand through his hair and looked at Fergus who eyed him curiously.

“I know,” he said and left the great hall. He needed to figure a way out of this mess or else he had have to leave. He could not be here wanting her, but never having her.

* * *

Freya placed the babe near her sleeping mother and watched them both. Nessia’s pallor had improved greatly. When Freya had returned earlier to the house, the place had been in uproar. She raced to Nessia’s chamber to find her, Fergus, and Bridget, all crying tears of joy. She learned that after she had left, Nessia insisted on placing the babies together, and as soon as that happened, the wee laddie screamed his first breaths.

No one had any idea how he would fare, but for now there would be no funeral, and for that she was very grateful.

Nessia’s eyes fluttered open. She smiled when she spied her daughter nuzzled into her side. Her gaze rose to meet Freya’s. “Thank you so much, Freya, for everything you did here today.”

“’Twas nothing on my part and you know it,” she said, wringing another cloth for Nessia’s forehead. “How do you fare now?”

Nessia tried to shift and winced. “I am a little sore. But I expect I shall come along well enough. I assume Fergus is still showing off his new son?”

“Aye, that he is.” Freya smiled. “I have never seen Fergus in such a way, Nessia. Ever.”

Nessia’s eyes welled up. “Aye, I have not either. When the fever was on me, I could not tell him I knew in my heart I would be well. And I have suspected for some time there was more going on in my belly than just one bairn.” She looked at her daughter and smiled. “Is she not the sweetest wee lassie you ever saw?”

Freya’s heart squeezed anew. “She is that.” An unexpected sob escaped her lips. The last thing Nessia needed to worry about right now was Freya’s fresh grief. She left the bed and stood to look out over the fields through the window.

“Freya, love, I know now how you must suffer,” Nessia said. “I lost my son for mere minutes; you have lost your bairn forever. How can I help ease your burden?”

Freya turned to her with blurred vision. “Oh, Nessia, your children are healing me, not hurting me. Every time I am with any of them my heart mends just a little more. Someday,” she said as she returned to Nessia’s bed, “I will have a family of my own.”

“Aye, you will, and you will be a wonderful mother and wife,” Nessia said as she grasped Freya’s hand. “You have been through much, Freya. You have to believe all will work out as it should.”

“In order for that to happen, an alliance may break between two clans, Nessia. You know as well as I do, I cannot have what, or who, I want.” Her gaze shifted to the babe. “Perhaps I was foolish all that time ago, when I told him it could never be. Or perhaps I was right all along. An alliance between the MacKays and the Sutherlands would be foolish and cause nothing but grief and bloodshed.”

Nessia shifted her gaze over Freya’s shoulder. She did not have to turn her head to know her brother was behind her and had heard her lament.

Fergus stepped forward and placed his son in his mother’s arms. He sat on the bed on the other side of Nessia and looked squarely at Freya.

“Freya, there is too much at stake for you to reconsider this alliance. You know this.”

“Aye. I do Fergus. I will do my duty and see the betrothal through with Rorie MacKenzie. I was only telling Nessia the same thing.” She bent her head low.

Fergus reached across and lifted her chin with his finger. “I know you understand, love, and I cannot imagine ’tis easy. Nessia and I understand better than anyone what ’tis like to marry for duty rather than love.”

“But it worked out for you in the end did it not?” Freya asked. “I mean, look at you both. How much agony would you have both been in for the rest of your lives had fate not intervened and brought you together?”

Nessia shook her head. “It would have been very difficult.” She paused and looked at Fergus. “William and I would not have been able to live here.”

Fergus lifted his gaze to hers and frowned. “Aye, I don’t suppose you would have.”

“Don’t you see?” Freya asked. “Will I go through my entire life doing my duty with Rorie but pining for Ronan? How am I supposed to just walk away from the only man I will ever love?” Fresh tears welled in her eyes. She knew the answer, but somehow her heart did not want to hear the words duty or honour.

“It will not be easy, love. But for the sake of the alliance between us and the MacKenzies, you must follow through with our agreement. ’Tis not my wish to cause you pain, but this agreement has been in place for two years. Breaking it now, especially with a new threat from the east, would weaken our best chance to reinstate Ronan to his rightful place. The fate of all the north Highlands depends upon it.”

Fergus stood and went to the window. “Freya, do you realize that had you stayed at Dunrobin with Ronan, you would be in serious danger at the moment? And what if you’d had children? What would have stopped Alexander Sutherland from driving a blade through you all at the same time?”

Freya had not thought of that. And Fergus was right. Had she married Ronan back then, he would not have been able to leave so easily to seek help. No matter which way she turned it, there was no future for her and Ronan. He was and always would be lost to her.

Fergus turned around. “Now, I believe ’tis time for my wife to get some rest. She did, after all, give me two bairns today. Freya, come, let us take the babes away so she can sleep.”

“Must you take them?” Nessia asked, her eyes drooping almost closed.

“Aye, love, we must. They will need their mother soon enough. In the meantime, their nurse will see to them.” Fergus kissed her on the forehead then ushered Freya out the door, a babe in each of their arms.

Once the wee ones were settled in with the nurse, Fergus placed his hand on Freya’s back and directed her toward the stairs. “Come, love, let us talk of happier topics. I have much I wish to ask of you in my absence. There is no one I trust more with my wife and my bairns than you.”

Freya smiled. Of course, she would do anything her brother asked of her. They had many preparations to make before sailing to Golspie. If she were very fortunate, she would see little of Ronan in the coming days, and once he left, she prayed he would be successful—and not return.

* * *

Ronan paced before the hearth in the great hall. Allain and he had gone over the plans again to try to find any possible flaw that could inhibit their success. There was much about the plan to go by sea and land that made sense. First of all, his uncle would not anticipate an attack, and secondly, he would not anticipate it coming from two directions.

“What about the MacDonalds?” Allain asked.

“Aye, they owe us too, but I don’t trust the MacDonald as far as I can throw him. The man is more like my father’s ilk, and even though we stood side by side with his allies and had him released from the king’s dungeons last year, the man is no less obsessed with usurping King James now than he was when he first hatched his scheme.”

Two years prior, the MacDonald and Ronan’s father had orchestrated a vicious attack on the MacKenzies and made it appear the MacKays were responsible, all in the hopes that King James would blame the wrong clan and prove his uselessness. Ronan had no time for such schemes and was certain the MacDonalds were best kept at arm’s length.

And they would not need them anyway. Between the MacKenzies, MacKays, and possibly the Sinclairs, they could form a substantial army that could take down Alexander Sutherland in one swift blow.

“I agree with you, lad,” Fergus said entering the hall with Freya in tow. “We will not need any MacDonald on our side, and if I see any of them, I may very well run them through as well.”

Freya sat at the table, as did Fergus. Moments later, servants entered with trenchers of food and tankards of ale.

Fergus beckoned Ronan toward the table. “Will you not join us?”

“Aye, I thank you, Fergus,” Ronan said, he and Allain taking their seats. Ronan tried not to pay too close attention to Freya, but could not help himself when he bumped her foot under the table.

Her gaze flew to his, and for a second, she looked like she might play along. Her expression soon masked and she cast her gaze downward again.

“Ronan, may I speak freely?” Fergus asked.

“’Tis your house. I expect you may do or say anything you wish here.”

“Aye. But I am about to overstep my bounds as it pertains to your personal business.”

Ronan shook his head and looked from brother to sister and back again.

“Fergus, this is not necessary,” Freya said.

“Aye, it is, lass. We all need to know where we stand here so there is no confusion.”

A knot crept into Ronan’s gut, for he was fairly certain what was coming.

“Ronan Sutherland, I would follow ye into battle anytime and anywhere. I consider you a true ally and friend. I owe you my life.” Fergus paused and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “But my sister is about to become betrothed to another man. I know you two share a past, and I do not blame either of you for wondering if an alliance between you could ever be.”

Ronan looked at Freya. She had wondered too? Her cheeks turned a bright crimson. Obviously she had. If she had spoken to Fergus, that must mean she still harboured feelings for him. His heart felt a little lighter in that moment.

Fergus leaned forward and placed his hands on the table flat down. “Ronan, lad. It can never be. We need this alliance with the MacKenzies. I do not wish to bring unhappiness upon anyone, and especially my own family, but breaking this promise would end badly for all of us. Do you ken?”