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Slow Burn Romance

Page 308

by Kathryn Le Veque

Thomas was not surprised but his stomach took a dive. “To kill me, I am sure.”

William shook his head hard. “Nay, my lord, not to kill you. To apologize.”

Thomas glanced at his kin in shock. “Apologize?”

“Aye,” William answered. “Would you and your kin ride out with me?”

Someone went to retrieve mounts for the Scotts as Jordan came off the wall and approached her husband. She had heard most of what he had said.

“English, what do ye mean?” She was afraid for her father. “Surely they are lying and just want to get at him.”

“Nay, love, Paris seems to think they are sincere,” he said. “But, to be sure, he brought along Northwood’s army as support for our own in case the Scots entertain the thought of changing their minds. We would outnumber them two to one.”

Jordan sighed reluctantly, glancing around him to look out at the distant troops. William held down his hand.

“Come with me,” he said.

She looked up in surprise. “Where?”

He jerked his head in the direction of the army. “Out there. If there are any apologies to be made this day, then you will hear them. You, as much as your father, deserve them.”

She’d never really thought about that. After all, she had suffered little compared to the rest of her family.

“Are ye sure?” she asked hesitantly.

He smiled in answer and she immediately placed her hand in his and mounted in front of him easily. She was quite used to it by now.

*

Her family mounted, with Jemma riding behind her father, they rode from the bailey at an easy canter. As they crossed the field and approached the group of knights, they noticed several other men wearing plaid had joined the group. Jordan stiffened as she recognized the Elliott, McCutcheon, McKenna and Barr chiefs. William felt her go rigid and squeezed her waist reassuringly.

They came to a halt behind the line of English knights. Thomas was the last man to ride up, and he eyed the clan chiefs for a long, long time before slowly dismounting. All eyes were upon him as he approached his one-time allies.

Oliver Barr was standing slightly ahead of the others, his burly face expressionless. He met Thomas’ gaze unwaveringly as the man approached, and it was difficult to describe the emotions that were prevalent in the air. There was tension, yes, but not of a truly bad sort.

Jordan sat in front of her husband, her pale green eyes huge as she watched her father’s proud back.

Thomas and Oliver faced off against each other, each man trying to read into the other’s soul. They had known each other since they had been bairns, and for their alliance to have come to this point was a truly sad event.

Finally, Oliver cleared his throat. “We are glad we have finally found ye, Thomas. We had heard ye went to live wi’ the English.”

Thomas’ eyes were hard. “Ye gave me no choice, man, when ye burned my keep.”

Oliver looked uncomfortable and started to fidget. “That is why we have come, Thomas,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at his fellow chiefs for support. “What I mean to say is that we regret everything that has happened. I know it is too little, too late, but I wanted ye to go to yer grave knowing that we are sorry for what we did. We were foolish, and we are sorry.”

Thomas cocked a salt-and-pepper brow. “So that’s it?” he said with growing anger. “Ye burn a man’s keep to the ground and kill his kin, and ye think saying yer sorry will somehow right things?”

Oliver shook his head. “Nay, we dunna mean that.” he insisted. “We just… oh, bloody hell. Thomas, we wanted to tell ye we were stupid fools to listen to McKenna, and to tell ye that we’ll rebuild yer keep and anything else ye want done to show ye that we truly are sorry.”

“Can ye replace Anne and Lilith, and Donald and Benjamin and Nathaniel?” Thomas shot back. “Sorry or not, rebuilding my keep willna bring my kin back. The reasons matter not why ye did it, because the fact remains that ye did. Dunna look to me to ease yer guilty conscience, Oliver. Only God can forgive ye that.”

Oliver looked truly hurt. He knew Thomas was right, but his guilt had so consumed him that he had to come, anyway. They all did.

“Yer right, of course,” he replied softly. “I dinna expect yer forgiveness, but we’re willing just the same to try and make it up to ye.”

Thomas’ face was red and he turned away, walking aimlessly back toward his horse. Jordan, her eyes full of unshed tears, watched her father a moment before sliding off the destrier and approaching Oliver.

Oliver looked down at her, noticing how truly beautiful she had become over the past two years.