Page 77 of Steel & Surrender

Hades. This was a new land she was navigating.

22: PAST SUCH THINGS

“WHAT A BONNIE bairn,” Greig said, peering down at the babe sleeping against Fiona’s breast. “Although she’s got her father’s hair … poor lass.”

Ailean snorted. “What’s wrong with that?”

Fiona laughed, her eyes sparkling with mirth at her husband’s affronted look. “Och,” she murmured, reaching up and brushing a lock of auburn hair from her husband’s brow. “Nothing, my love.”

Watching Ailean and Fiona’s gazes meet and hold for a heartbeat, Greig suddenly felt as if he was intruding.

Right from the first time he’d seen the two of them together, the Yule before last, he’d marked the bond between them. Like his parents, they didn’t seem to need words to communicate.

Once glance was often enough.

Ailean looked Greig’s way then, favoring him with a smug smile. “See, Fi doesn’t mind.”

Greig snorted. “Aye, well, let’s hope wee Catriona takes after her sweet-tempered mother, and not her fickle father.”

Ailean landed a playful punch on his arm, while Fiona laughed again. Her eyes were bright, there was color in her cheeks, and the light of the braziers ringing the revelry made her hair glow gold. She looked like a woman in love, and she was.

Next to her, Ailean shone with pride.

Greig couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy at their joy, at how well-matched they were.

His gaze lowered once more to the sleeping bairn. He’d have thought the din of the Highland pipe and the squeals of the lasses dancing nearby might have woken Catriona, yet she didn’t stir.

Over the years, he’d had little interest in babies, but this one fascinated him.

Indeed, she had an angelic face, with dark auburn curls covering her scalp.

“I’m happy for ye both,” Greig said then, sobering. He enjoyed teasing his friend, yet he also wanted them to know he was no longer filled with bitterness and resentment. The last time they’d spent time together, he’d been miserable company.

Fiona’s cheeks dimpled as she favored him with another smile. “Thank ye, Greig,” she murmured. “That means much.”

“Aye, it does.” Ailean reached out once more, but instead of punching him, he squeezed Greig’s shoulder.

An awkward silence followed then. Greig wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t used to displays of emotion. And neither was Ailean. They both shifted awkwardly.

Eventually, Fiona cleared her throat. “Please excuse me, lads … I wish to have a word with Arabella. I shall leave ye to catch up.”

With that, she moved off, heading toward where young Arabella Maclean had just seated herself upon a stool, breathing hard after a rousing jig. Pulling up a stool next to her, the two dove into conversation.

The two friends stood quietly together for a short while before Greig eventually turned to Ailean. “Life at Ardnacross appears to suit ye both.”

“Aye,” Ailean replied with a smile. “The building work seems never-ending, but at least the tower is habitable now. And I’ve taken on some villagers as servants, so we don’t need to do everything ourselves anymore.”

“Has yer father accepted that ye don’t wish to inherit Dounarwyse?” Greig asked then. It still shocked him that Ailean had refused to have his title restored. Greig couldn’t ever imagine relinquishing such a position.

But then, they were very different men.

Ailean had always been wilder than him—a man who wanted to seek his own path rather than follow in the footsteps of others.

Greig, on the other hand, despite everything that had happened to him, knew that he was meant to become clan-chief. Aye, he’d despaired for a while, believing he was too broken to rule, but these days he was rallying. He wouldn’t give his birthright up. His role as marshal was helping prepare him to one day step into his father’s boots.

“Da grumbles a bit sometimes, but we both know the truth of it,” Ailean replied. “My brother will make a fine chieftain, and I am happy at Ardnacross.” His lips quirked. “I like being my own man. Ye know that.”

Greig had to laugh. He did.