AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Just smile at me, and tell me all is alright and forgiven, the Laird wished as he watched his daughter walk away from him.
The door remained open in their wake. Soon after, two maids entered the room, carrying buckets on their arms. They greeted him appropriately, then went into the washroom, where they poured steaming, hot water into the tub.
“Yer bath is prepared, milaird,” the women said.
“Thank ye,” Jonan bid the two women as they hurried out the room, hiding their grins and whispering.
Jonan did not call them back to find out what they were gossiping about. He already knew. There was no more popular topic than the laird, who rarely left his chamber.
He sat on the bed, unfolding the note. Callan had tried to remind him that the clan elders had called a meeting with him that morning. He had intended to avoid it entirely, but after seeing Leah, he felteager to do something worthwhile with hisday.
A bath first, Jonan decided, taking off his shirt. A brief giggle alerted the Laird to the presence of peepers. He knew it had to be the maids.
He coughedloudly enough for the ladies to hear. Their quick feet hurried out of the chamber, across the corridor, and to thestairwell.
He held no grudges against the young women who wanted to see him naked. Years ago, his pride might have reveled in the attention, but now... now he was a different man, and he desired to be alone.
They are naïve to like a man such as meself, Jonan thought, downcast before he dipped into the bath.
It wasn't his first time dealing with nosy maids. He was a widower, so many women fanciedhim oraspired to be the clan's new lady.
Jonan quickly washed himself and exited the washroom. He looked through the looking glass, which hung just outside the door.
He looked likethe tall and burly man he had always been with broad shoulders like his father and black curls like his mother. He was a strongman; his body was toned and muscled—he was, after all, a seasoned warrior.
But deep inside, he felt weak.
Perhaps this is who I really was all along. Perhaps I played the strong laird for too long. If I didnae, why can I nae remember what it feels like to lead, to be in control?
Jonan brushed aside his thoughts, anddressed in a loose shirt and breeches. He slipped on his boots and walked down the spiral stairs that led to the main dining hall.
It was a large room, big enough to host a clan ball. He recalled running through the hall as a weelad, disobeying his parents and getting into trouble.
Breakfast had been served. The Laird sat downbut the meal in front of him did not pique his appetite. He did, however, force himself to eat, not wanting towaste valuable food, even if it brought him no satisfaction.
After a while, Callan entered and joined Jonan at the table. “Milaird, ye daenae seem to be in the best of moods.”
Jonan grunted.
“The clansmen are just concerned. They need yer reassurance.”
Jonan took a sip from a tumbler of water. He didn't have the courage to tell his friend that he couldn't offer any reassurance.
“I dinnae ken if I wish to go.”
“You are the Laird McKay, and yer people have barely seen ye since the Lady McKay passed,” Callan pointed out. “There are rumors amongst the clan members that ye dinnae care for them anymore,” he continued.
“I care for me people. I am only in mourning. A man may grieve loss, may he nae? ” Jonan replied bitterly.
“Ye need to go out into the clan, Laird McKay,” Callan continued.
Jonan was well aware of Callan's intentions. The man would gently pesterhim;never demanding,always implying. But he was unwavering in his support. Jonan knewthat the commander would not rest until he attended the meeting.
“I will go,” he said at last.
* * *
Jonan felt uneasy while riding through McKay village. Everyone stared at him as he walked past them in silence. He could see in their eyes that they remembered his loss the moment they saw him, and their sympathy for his plight was too much for him to bear.
