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Chapter Twenty-Two
Blair
Blair stared at the stone thruchstane, rereading the carved inscription: Duncan MacBean September 12, 1590- June 21, 1650. It had been two days since the laird’s death, a day since his funeral. Tavis had scrubbed his body and wrapped him in clean cloth. The woodcarver had created a coffin from dark wood the priest had blessed. The blacksmith had worked hard inscribing the stone with the laird’s name. Everything had happened so quickly. Blair could hardly remember sleeping. Each day blended into one another as if she was wandering from one nightmare to the next.
The funeral had not been beautiful. The entire day had been cold, the clouds hanging low while rain drizzled down around them as if the heavens were mourning his loss. Blair was barely able to eat anything at the funeral tea afterward. She hardly remembered returning to her rooms.
She kneeled in front of the thruchstane, pressing her lips against her fingers before placing them on the stone before her. He had been a good man, she recalled. However, she could not remain here, not without him, not after having failed to care for him. It would be dishonorable. The idea of it left a foul taste in her mouth.
Not to mention, she didn’t think she could handle seeing Aindreas and his intended. It was already painful enough they sat together in the great hall. Laird Cambel seemed joyful given the circumstances, which only made her gut twist in distaste.
She grabbed the hood of her black cloak and pulled it over her hair, slowly rising. “Farewell,” she whispered, her gaze lifting to the saturated green meadow surrounding her. “Thank ye for everything. I’m sorry,” she sniffed and grabbed her scarf, dabbing at her eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for ye.”
With one last look, she picked up her black skirts and walked back to Castle Lachlan. She followed the path past the chapel and through the courtyard all the way to the stables. It was probably rude to leave without saying her farewells to the new laird of Castle Lachlan, but she doubted he would care, given how he was busy with his bride-to-be. She sighed, pausing in front of the stable as she recalled his empty gaze during the funeral as if all the life and joy had been drained from him.
Blair frowned, thinking of both Tavis and Daniel, wondering if they would be upset for her leaving without saying goodbye. Both men were so kind to her during her time at the castle. Surely, they would miss her.
She inhaled and shook her head. They would try to make her stay, she told herself. And she had already made up her mind. There was no way she could stay, not when she no longer had a place.
Looking around, her brow furrowed as she wondered where the stable master could be at this time. Indeed, it was early. The sun had only risen an hour before, yet the guards were beginning to rise. She needed to make haste. Quickly, she stepped through the stable, looking for her mare.
“There ye are,” she smiled, reaching for the gate.
“And where do ye think yer going?”
Blair jumped, spinning around and finding Lady Alisa standing at the other end of the stable. She hadn’t heard her come in. Lady Alisa smiled, a soft, unrecognizable gleam in her eye as she gracefully stepped towards Blair as if she was gliding rather than walking. She was dressed in a dark green rather than the mournful black garments Blair expected.
Alisa stopped a foot from Blair, her head tilting curiously to the side. “Well? I asked ye a question. Where are ye off to, lass?”
Blair shook her head, turning away from Alisa and grabbing her mare’s reins. “I’m going home.”
“But ye are home.”
Blair ignored her, tugging her mare forward, but before she could get any further, she paused, feeling Alisa’s hand on her shoulder. “Wait, lass,” she said in that sickeningly sweet tone. “Don’t go. Let us speak, ye and I.”
Blair slowly turned around. A part of her wondered if this was a ploy, if Alisa was going to send her off with more distasteful words, possibly make her feel even worse than she already did. However, there was something different about the way Alisa looked at her as if she thought of Blair more as prized cattle rather than a dirty peasant lass.
“What more is there to say?” Blair found herself asking. “Ye have made it known that ye don’t like me, my lady. I thought ye would be glad of my leaving.”
Alisa gasped, appearing hurt, yet the gleam was still in her gaze. “Of course I’m not, Blair.”
Blair wondered if the fairies had come to Alisa in the night. She couldn’t recall a single time Alisa had said her name or looked pained. Surely, this was a changeling standing before her and not the true lady of Castle Lachlan.
“I must say, I do regret the way I treated ye the past weeks,” Alisa said, her voice soft. “I should never have been so cruel. I often think of that time in the garden, wishing I had held my tongue.” She sighed and shook her head. “I was not of the right mind, ye see. Daniel is my only son, my only child. I worry for him more than any mother ought to.”
Blair nodded. She didn’t understand Alisa’s cruelty, nor had she ever understood a mother’s love, given that she never knew her own mother, but she did understand the concerns Alisa had. If Daniel was her only son, then he was her only opportunity to pass on her family name.
“Before my brother-in-law,” Alisa paused, inhaling deeply, and Blair watched the lady’s shoulders quiver. Blair ground her teeth as she watched Alisa, wondering if the laird’s death had broken her, as well. Yet, given her choice of clothes, choosing not to don the mourning colors, Blair suspected the lady was acting rather than being genuine. It was hard for her to watch, and all she wanted to do was turn away from the lady and continue on her path home. She was tempted to do so but was stopped when Alisa continued.
“Before the laird’s passing,” said Alisa, “he asked me to take care of ye. And therefore, ye mustn’t go, Blair.” Alisa stepped towards her, taking the reins from Blair’s hands and dropping them. She squeezed Blair’s hands and tugged her forward, a soft smile playing at her lips that made Blair’s skin crawl. “Yer home is here.”
Blair shook her head. Why would the laird ask Alisa to care for her? Why would Alisa agree when all this time she had been so cruel. “I don’t belong here,” she said while reaching for the reins.
Alisa moved the reins away from Blair, leaning towards her with widened, crazed eyes. “But ye do,” she insisted. “Even if I tried to stop it, I couldn’t.” Alisa sighed. “My son is in love with ye, Blair.”
Blair frowned. She suspected Daniel had feelings for her. How could she not with him giving her bouquets of flowers and finding reasons to be with her? Yet, every time she thought of Daniel, his brown eyes wilted into blue orbs, and his smile melted into Aindreas’s lips. She felt ill knowing she could never return Daniel’s affections, not when she cared for another.
“He is,” Alisa insisted as if Blair questioned the truth of it with her silence.
