Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(64)
Jamie had grasped the situation as well and appeared to be giving them a stern lecture from across the hall. Whatever he’d said had worked, because the two shamefaced lads nodded in earnest and hurried down the stairs without a backward glance.
Jamie, however, looked back in her direction, and from the expression on his face, he wasn’t happy to see her. He pierced her with a glowering look, giving her every indication that he was about to storm over and vent his displeasure. She smiled sweetly, which seemed only to outrage him further. But fortunately (as she had an inkling of what might be behind that dark look), he was prevented from coming over by a voice calling from outside.
“My laird!”
He looked back over his shoulder at the men in the barmkin below to respond and after a quick exchange, with one more irritated glance in her direction, retraced his steps down the stairs to the courtyard.
It amazed her how quickly her clansmen had come to depend on him. She doubted they even realized it themselves and probably would be horrified to have it pointed out. Old prejudices would take a long time to die.
It struck her that Jamie was in a very difficult position, straddling both sides of the Highland line—a Highlander who was sympathetic to the Lowland government. Embraced by neither and distrusted by both. On one side there were Highlanders—unwilling to relinquish the unfettered authority and way of life they’d enjoyed for hundreds of years. On the other was the king—made increasingly powerful with the added strength of England behind him. In trying to bring the two sides together, Jamie had distanced himself from both. It was a difficult—and lonely—path he’d chosen. But vital, Caitrina realized. Without men like Jamie to negotiate the treacherous road of change, they could all end up like the MacGregors. It was a sobering thought.
Beth and the other serving girls had gathered around her and looked visibly relieved when Jamie departed the hall.
Caitrina could see from their faces that they wanted to say something. “What is it, Beth?”
The girl hesitated, blushing a little as if she didn’t know quite how to put it. “We just wanted to say that . . . uh . . . we all admire you, mistress, for what you have done. And for your, uhm, bravery.”
Bravery? “What for?”
Beth lowered her voice, her eyes darting to the doorway where Jamie had just disappeared. “You know, for marrying the Henchman. Did you see how he yelled at poor Robby and Thomas? They were just trying to help.”
“He was right to speak to them so; the lads could have been hurt.” She didn’t want to point out that the young men had been trying to impress them in the first place. But it was clear the girls hadn’t seen it the same way she had. If only they would give Jamie a chance.
She stopped, stunned by the direction of her thoughts and by how closely she’d allied herself with her husband. He’d done so much for her; why was she realizing it only now? Not just in rebuilding Ascog, but in seeing it restored to her clan in the first place. She knew his brother had wanted it, yet Jamie had risked Auchinbreck’s displeasure for her. And that hadn’t been the first time. When he’d heard of the attack on Ascog, he’d raced back and tried to stop it. Then later, he’d risked Argyll’s displeasure by withholding the location of the MacGregor until he could negotiate his surrender, knowing what his safety had cost her father. He could have killed the MacGregor, the man he’d been hunting, but he hadn’t. He’d done this for her, as a show of good faith, and what had she showed him in return? Suspicion and distrust.
The truth hit her hard. If she wanted her people to accept Jamie—to give him a chance—it had to start with her.
He was her husband. It was her duty. . . .
No. It had nothing to do with duty, but everything to do with the confusing tangle of emotions she felt for him. Emotions that she feared had taken hold and would not be easily dislodged.
“And the way he looked at you. It frightened me near to my toes.” Beth shivered. “If he’d looked that way at me, I would have turned and run.”
The other girls nodded furiously, and Caitrina smiled at their dramatics. “Oh, he’s not so bad.”
All three girls looked at her as if she were daft.
“No, he’s worse,” a man said. “And you’ll do well not to forget it, lassie.”
Recognizing the voice, Caitrina turned at the interruption to see Seamus carefully making his way down a ladder. As one of the few men with experience in construction, he’d been given the task of overseeing the necessary supply of wood for the construction. Jamie had honored him with the responsibility, not that you would know it by Seamus’s resentment.
As promised, Caitrina had talked her father’s guardsmen into submitting to Jamie, though she almost wished she hadn’t. Seamus was stirring up trouble.
“I’ve not forgotten, Seamus,” she said quietly. “But you can’t ignore the good he’s done around here. He’s given me no cause to distrust him.” She turned back to Beth and the other girls. “Nor is he the ogre people have made him out to be. We need to give him a chance.” When they didn’t look convinced, she pointed out, “He is our laird now.”
“Not for long, God willing,” Seamus said.
He wore a certain look on his face that sent a chill of foreboding through her. She frowned, hoping she had misunderstood his intent. “It will be some time before we have a son old enough to become laird, Seamus.”