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With that, the footman sprinted away. As he vanished into the darkness, Kendrick and Reed shared a laugh between themselves.
“Ach, but it is good to see ye chuckle,” his friend observed.
“Ye bring out the bairn in me, old friend,” he teased.
It sparked Reed’s memories. “Do ye recall the first time I told ye I had funnytinglingfor Sophia?” Reed elbowed him.
“Ha!” Kendrick exclaimed. “And I told ye I had such feelings for her as well.”
“Ye told me she would never choose me because ye were always kinder to her.” Reed picked up a stone and threw it high into the sky. “I never had the courage to tell her.”
“We were silly wee lads back then,” Kendrick said, catching the pebble. “I thought it was love, and I did nae even ken what love was.”
“It was love for me,” Reed said gravely. “My feelings for her never changed.”
Kendrick furrowed his brow. He had not heard Reed speak about his feelings for Sophia in years. “It was nae for me, not then. I only realized I loved her that day on this field… when I told her to leave the keep and never come back.” He sobered. “She was standing just by the well, over there.”
“Surely ye did love her always. Yet ye avoided her from that moment on.” Reed snapped his fingers. “Love can make even the strongest lads do silly things.”
“Silly?” Kendrick echoed. From what he knew of love, there was nothing silly about it. Only destructive. His mind wandered to the memory of his mother’s body. “Silly or not, we cannae indulge it.”
Reed took a step toward the keep, blocking his passage. “I ken something troubles ye deeply.”
Kendrick crossed her arms. He looked at the crescent moon as though it might bestow upon him some wisdom.
“My da. I ken he was the one that killed my mother that night.” Kendrick opened his hand to reveal the luckenbooth brooch. “I discovered this beside her body.”
Reed gaped. He seemed to labor over his words before he rasped, “Ye cannae be sure of it.” He plucked the brooch from Kendrick’s hand. “Laird MacNeil loved yer ma— he could nae have done that.”
“I am sure of it,” he countered, taking the trinket back. “I saw him leave the study that night.”
“It’s nae possible. Everybody ken that he loved her,” Reed insisted. “Ye are misremembering.”
“Nae. Ye are right—he did love her, yet he killed her.” Kendrick looked back to the sky. “Tis why I cannae marry Sophia, nae if that is how things may go.”
“Yecannaemarry Sophia… or ye willnae?”
“I cannaeandI willnae. History will not repeat with me.”
“What does history have to do with ye?” Reed pressed. “Ye are nae yer da, my friend. Dinnae ruin yer future because of things that may never happen.”
“But I am his son,” Kendrick retorted. “He was nae mad as a bairn. It took years. I might grow madder still and hurt Sophia. I cannae let that happen.”
“Ye will only end up hurting yerselfandher, because ye dread becoming yer father.” Reed hummed. “Ye love Sophia and she cares for ye. Ye may never forgive yerself if ye lose her.”
Perhaps Reed was correct, but the more hetried to persuade Kendrick to marry Sophia, the more determined hebecame to avoid her. He had seen the way his father looked at his mother. He remembered clearly the afternoon when his father found Logan talking to her in a darkened corner in the castle. His eyes were filled with envy. Jealousy and madness.
“I cannae marry her. And dinnae talk about it any further,” he spat and resumed walking.
They ambled the remaining distance in silence.
“I shall return to the stable now, milaird, and check on my mare,” Reed announced as they reached the grand doors to the hall.
“Why?” Kendrick asked. “Will ye nae join the feast?”
“I’m not fit for a feast, my friend,” Reed complained. “I’d be quite ashamed to appear like this if there are such pretty lasses in attendance.”
“Tis unfortunate, then.” Kendrick forced a smile. “I could have really used yer presence. Our stroll alone improved my mood.” It was true. He felt lighter than he had earlier.
