Rory MacLeod’s first cousin, so Farlan had said he was. The son of old Camraith’s sister. So the man should want him back right enough.
But it bothered her. It bothered her because it echoed so closely all that business with Farlan, wherein Moira had held him as a hostage and tried to bargain with Rory MacLeod over him.
Just see how that had ended.
Before anyone could bargain over Leith MacLeod, though, he had to be sound. And they, Clan MacBeith, would have to settle the leadership of the clan. At the moment, even Saerla, with her foresight, could not say how that would work out.
She entered her quarters and set down her basket, perched on the edge of her bed, and put her head in her hands. Steady and composed, that was MacBeith’s middle daughter. Only, at this moment, she wanted to rage and scream and cry.
Removing her hands from her head, she pressed them against her stomach. Here, it hurt. Just beneath her heart. She had to put all thoughts of Leith away from her. Return to the sensible woman she had been.
Because living like this was bound to drive her mad. She would not know herself. And a woman who did not know herself was of use to no one.
Chapter Fifteen
“The council ha’come to a decision about whether Moira should continue wi’ leading the clan,” Saerla announced the next morning. “Ye need to come.”
Rhian blinked at her sister unhappily. She’d appeared at the door of Rhian’s chamber early, clad in a manner that suggested she’d been bound for the training field.
“What, did they stay in session all night long?”
“I believe they did. Alasdair was wi’ them. ’Twas he who came out and caught me, said I should bring ye.”
Alasdair. In session with the council while Moira, the acting chief, was not. Och, what would Da say?
Rhian searched Saerla’s face, seeking clues. “Ha’ ye Seen the outcome o’ all this?”
“I ha’ no’, though I was up at the stones before dawn speaking my prayers.”
The stones—an ancient circle on the rise above the stronghold, a place of magic. Da lay up there beside it along with others of their ancestors.
“Very well, I will come. I need time to pull mysel’ together. I just crawled from my bed.”
“Best no’ take long, sister.”
Saerla slipped away on silent feet, calling softly over her shoulder, “The great hall.”
Rhian went back inside to try to get hold of herself. She did not often lose control of her emotions. Och aye, events did slip away from her. Da’s death, and her brother Arran’s before that, had caused no end of grief. The war with MacLeod, and Moira losing her heart to Farlan. But she’d always kept a grip on her reactions to such events.
Now she felt scattered and as if she held on to her composure by a thread.
And that accursed hook in her belly had kept her awake most the night. Aye, she was merely weary. Fraught. An understandable reaction to events.
She dressed as quickly as she could and bound her hair. She washed in cold water from the basin, telling herself all the while she did not have time to stop by the cattle pen and see her patient.
The air outside held a chill, and clouds poured over the western mountains from the direction of the sea, heralding rain. Indeed, before she reached the doors of the hall, big drops began to pelt the ground, her shoulders, and her hair.
Others occupied the hall ahead of her. The members of the council, of course, including the irascible Ewan. Saerla was there, and Moira had been called in. Alasdair closed the door firmly behind Rhian. No one appeared to be in a good mood.
But a fire burned in the long, rectangular hearth, and Rhian gravitated toward it, holding out her hands. Doing so, she looked into Moira’s face. Her sister appeared wary—worried.
Rhian looked next at Alasdair. Had he got any sleep last night? She doubted it. He’d been here with the council and doubtless up on the walls before that, searching for marauding parties of MacLeods. Perhaps checking on Leith’s guards still earlier.
Leith.
She could not let her thoughts stray to him.She could not.
She sat close to the hearth, and the others joined her, most of them standing, though Saerla perched at Rhian’s side. Rhian could feel emotions coming off both her sisters, and strong tension dominated the chamber. From Saerla she also sensed a measure of sorrow.
