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“Thank ye!” both twins chorused.
“An’ one for ye,” Susan added, handing it over.
Cicilia took it. “Thank ye kindly,” she said. “How much—”
“Dinnae worry about it,” Susan interrupted, waving a hand in the air. “Me husband deserves to suck up the cost o’ a few pithy buns. May I speak freely?”
Cicilia nodded, curious at what this woman could possibly have to say.
“I believe ye,” Susan said softly. “Now, I’m just a woman, an’ me opinion doesn’ae have as much sway wi’ me husband as I’d like, but what ye said makes a lot o’ sense an’ answers some discrepancies we’ve been noticin’ in this clan for years. Me husband’s an old fool. I was supposed to wed his younger brother, ye ken, before the poor lad died in the fightin’. Me faither had already paid me dowry, so I went to the older lad instead. I ken it doesn’ae mean much, but I—”
“It means the world,” Cicilia assured her. “Alexander—the Laird is a good man, an’ every person, man or woman, should ken it. I ken that there’s unrest in the village, an’ I pray it doesn’ae turn into anythin’ worse. I need people to ken that the faults they complain o’ are either the fault o’ circumstance or me own error. He’s done nothin’ to deserve any o’ this.”
“I will nae be able to persuade many,” Susan replied. “But I believe ye. I can tell me friends, though. I’ll do what I can to help ye.” She smiled. “He’s lucky to have a lass like ye as his sweetheart.”
Cicilia felt that familiar blush forming under her cheeks. “I’m nae his—”
“Whatever ye say,” Susan said with a wink. “I’d better get back to me old grump. Good luck on whatever ye’ve come to do.”
“Thank ye, Susan,” Cicilia said earnestly. She watched the woman as she walked away, then beckoned to the twins to continue.
As the three O’Donnel children ate their buns, Cicilia thought about what Susan had said.
Well, one down. Just a whole clan worth o’ doubters to go.
Chapter 21
Ex Amicitia Pax
From Friendship, Peace
On the fifth day following his argument with Cicilia, Alexander had expected that his mood would lighten a little. Unfortunately, he woke up feeling as though a heavy lead weight was placed on his chest, and it would not go away, no matter what he did. In fact, it only got worse the more he tried to ignore it.
He knew that he’d have to speak to her eventually, but he dreaded the moment. They’d avoided each other as much as possible—and as far as Alexander was aware, she hadn’t even been in the Castle the last three days.
Is she so desperate to get away from me? Aye, well, maybe she is, now I ken what she really thinks o’ me.
He knew she’d tried to apologize for her accusations against him, but he was not ready or able to accept it just yet. After all, no matter how scared she was or how hurt by the accusations, she must have known him better than that? Surely, after all of this—after everything—her first instinct shouldn’t have been to blame him?
These were the thoughts that spiraled around his head over and over again, darkening his mind and heart and making it very hard to concentrate on anything hopeful whatsoever. Which was why he now sat in his study, lost in a cloud of black thoughts, barely able to focus on the pages in front of him.
The door opened, and Nathair walked in, as usual not bothering to knock. “Are ye still mopin’ in here, Sandy?” he asked with a loud sigh.
Alexander ran his hands down his own face and then looked up at his friend. He was looking…tidier than usual. His mane of hair was tied back, his clothing pristine. Had Alexander not had other things occupying his mind, he’d find the image rather satisfying
.
As it was, though, he just gave Nathair a tired look and then returned to stare blankly at his papers. A few minutes later, he could still feel the big man looming over him, waiting for him to respond.
“Och, what is it ye want?” Alexander finally asked impatiently. “I’m busy.”
“Ye are nae busy. Ye’re avoidin’ the world because ye got into a tiff wi’ yer sweetheart,” Nathair told him in an extremely calm voice, folding his arms across his chest. “An’ frankly, me an’ Jeanie both are sick o’ it. I ken that Cicilia was out o’ line, but it was near a week ago an’ this cannae go on.”
Alexander tutted, placing the paper flat on his desk and focusing all this attention on the Man-at-arms now. “An’ what would ye have me do about it, eh? Forget it ever happened? Just let her continue thinkin’ she can do or say whatever she wants to whoever she wants?”
Nathair actually rolled his eyes. “One, ye ken that is nae true. An’ two, even if it was, so what? This is nae about who’s right or wrong. It’s about ye choppin’ off yer own nose to spite yer face. Ye’re miserable, an’ ye ken Cicilia wants to apologize, but ye’re too proud to get over yerself and listen.”
Alexander scoffed. “Away wi’ ye. Ye dinnae ken what ye’re talkin’ about.”
