A Year and a Day (22 page)

“
Laird
MacRae?” Ewan asked, inquiring anxiously about his brother-in-law.

“In
siege
at Eilean Donan,” the rider replied, his eyes bulging as if he didn’t fully believe it himself.

“In
siege
???” Ewan boggled, “By who?” No neighboring clan could be so bold!”

The rider cast a furtive glance at Cait. “It’s the English!’

Cait and Ewan stared at the rider, and then at each other in shock.

“How is that possible?” Ewan said when he’d had a moment to recover- although he thought that he had an inkling.
Eilean
Donan
Castle
, although very defensible by land, was surrounded on three sides by water. English ships sailing up the deep lochs could easily cut the castle off.

Ewan took the letter, broke the seal, and then squinted in the fading light to read the lines of script. He recognized his uncle’s hand immediately. The group of MacRaes who had gone to
Edinburgh
had uncovered rumors of an English warship heading north. They’d left the night before it sailed, and arrived too late to prepare the castle. A rider had made fo
r Castle Cameron to ask for aid
, while
Lachlan
and his tanist had nearly died trying to get back inside the castle.

Ewan’s gut clenched in concern. Quite apart from the political impli
ca
t
ions, he worried for his sister. The baby was due at any moment- and now she
had
an injured husband to worry for as well
. His
mind quickly switched gears to the more important issue: what to do next?

The letter
requested Ewan’s
immediate return to the castle- which, of course he intended to do, but said nothing of raising the men.

“Your brother is on my heels,” the rider announced, almost reading Ewan’s mind.

Ewan nodded and digested this information. The purpose was obviously to bring him back with no delays. That meant that the situation was graver than he feared. There wasn’t any time to lose. “I’ll ride tonight,” he announced.

The rider nodded smartly. “I’ll water my horse.”

“Cait can fetch you some supper too,” Ewan nodded, and then he hurried inside.

He didn’t stop to offer instructions to his wife. Instead, he climbed directly to his room and began
to fill
his pack. There wasn’t room for more than a change of clothes, some silver, and his weapons. Ewan was the most careful with these: the giant, savage claymore that his grandfather had carried before him, his dirk, and his pistol. All of them had been sorely neglected since last carried into battle, but he’d have to deal with that later.

Ewan met Cait on the stairs. She was carrying up a tray of food, which he plucked from her fingers, carried to the table, and then packed the cheese and bread that she had brought. “That should keep us until morning.”

“We aren’t leaving
now
!” Cait gasped.

Ewan looked at her and frowned. “We?”
 

Cait stared back and him, and then paled. “I’m not going with you?”
 

Ewan exhaled sharply when he finally figured out what she meant. “
No!
” he said, more sharply than he’d intended. He didn’t want to be parted from his wife- but neither could he bear the thought of placing her in danger! If the English had attacked Eilean Donan, they were already too close for comfort. Here on the Frasure border, his wife was safe- and that was where he intended to keep her. “I’m sorry, Lass- but no,” he said firmly.

“But-!” Cait started to protest, but Ewan shook his head savagely.

“No, Cait. You’ve got to stay here!” he wished that there was time to tell her more, to make her see that he
wanted
to be with her- but there wasn’t any time. He watched unhappily when she crumpled like a flower- but held his ground. “It isn’t safe,” he mumbled again, and then went to the courtyard to see about his horse.

It wasn’t more than half and hour before it was time to go. Cait met him at the front door, handing over a sack of provisions, “Some
more
bread and cheese,” she told him, staring at her hands.

Ewan’s heart twisted. He hated leaving her like this- but duty wouldn’t let him stay. “I’ll be back soon,” Ewan whispered tenderly into her hair, “and I’ll miss you every second of every day. As soon as it’s safe, I send for you.”

“But I don’t want to be safe,” Cait protested, although her expression betrayed that she knew it was futile, “I want to be with you!”

“And you will be!” Ewan said, the thrill of her words chipping at his resolve to leave, “Soon!” he promised. Then, not trusting himself to linger, he gave her a final kiss and swung onto his horse, leaving Cait alone to watch him ride away.

Cait didn’t know how long she stayed there. She watched his figure growing small in the distance, squinting into the growing darkness until he and the messenger were no more than specks crawling up the side of Ben Mohr. Then, when the night had finally blanketed the highlands, she continued staring into the inky darkness, imagining his progress in her mind.

She was still in shock. She hadn’t had time to contemplate his leaving, much less to prepare for it. One moment she was in his arms. In the next, he had been ripped away, leaving a terrible, aching hole in her heart.

“You’ve got to come in, Mistress.”

Cait turned toward Becky, the little serving girl that
Ewan had
hired to wait on her at the house. She was a simple, pleasant creature,
and was
terribly solicitous of Cait. Cait didn’t have the heart to deny the other woman’s obviously well-meant request. She allowed herself to be led into the kitchen and sat
down
in front of a bowl of stew which she had no intention of eating.

Becky opened her mouth several times before she gathered the courage to speak, “He’ll be back before you know it, Mistress,” she finally dared. “It was the same with my Gerald. I was plain desperate when he first went away to fight them MacRaes, but he was back before I knew it.”

Cait nodded her head numbly.

“Besides,” Becky continued, “It will be nice to be alone for a while, won’t it? Men are nice but…” she let her voice trail off when she noticed that her mistress wasn’t listening. “Well, I’d best stop my prattle,” she said gently, “and I’ll be telling you goodnight, mistress- unless there’s anything else?”

“No,” Cait responded, “Nothing.”

The servant nodded, and then left Cait alone with her thoughts.

Ewan rode all night, and most of the following day, stopping only once- when his path crossed with James. He shared a meal with his brother and learned the latest news. Then he set off again. The sun was already low in the horizon when he approached the heavily fortified gates of Castle Cameron. He wanted, desperately, to find his bed and rest, but he knew that he had to see the
Laird
first.
He spared
only a second to freshen his appearance before he headed to an audience with his uncle.

Laird
Cameron looked as exhausted as Ewan felt. He had never noticed his uncle’s beard looking so grey, or his skin so lined. The older man’s shoulders seemed to hunch, as though they were weighted down by a heavy load. In a few months, he seemed to have aged a decade. It wasn’t until he offered his nephew a fleeting smile that Ewan felt he even recognized the older man.

“Ewan,” he said, gesturing toward a seat. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”

“I came as soon as I heard,” Ewan assured him.

The
Laird
nodded, “And your…” he twisted his lips, looking as though the words he wanted to say tasted awful in his mouth. “Your….did Cait come with you?”
Ewan shook his head, “no”.

The
Laird
nodded thoughtfully. “And…how is Cait?” he asked.

Ewan frowned, confused by the direction of the questioning. Eilean Donan was under siege and the
Laird
was asking about his personal life? “She’s fine,” he responded.

“Pregnant?” the
Laird
asked bluntly.

Ewan’s mouth fell open, but he managed to recover quickly. “Er…no,” he said, frowning. That fact had been the one mar on his happiness over the holiday season. He had somehow expected his wife to fall pregnant as quickly as his sister had, but they were married three months, and her courses were still coming regularly. He wasn’t panicked-
yet
- although they were both disappointed.

“Good,” the
Laird
said unexpectedly. The frown on Ewan’s features darkened.

“Good?” he echoed uncertainly.

Laird
Cameron sighed and sank down into his chair, “Surely you see that it’s for the best?”
 

Ewan shook his head. “I don’t.”
 

“Ewan, you
know
that I intend to name you tanist. You can’t be tanist with an English wife.”
All of the breath left Ewan’s body. He’d been expecting the
Laird
to name him, although he didn’t think that one could ever be prepared for such a momentous announcement- but he hadn’t expected there to be a problem with Cait. The
Laird
had been one of the chief proponents of Ewan’s quest to have a son. “But-!” he began to protest, but was swiftly silenced by the
Laird
.

“I know that you’ve been fond of Cait. She’s a pretty thing, but-,”

“But YOU told me -!” Ewan began hotly, but fell silent when his uncle held up his hand.

“Surely you can see that things are different now!” he protested. Ewan nodded, although he couldn’t, really. It had been apparent when the idea had first been broached that Ewan was the logical choice of tanist in his cousin’s place.

“Cait was English before!” Ewan argued.

The
Laird
blinked at him and then gave his nephew an almost pitying look. “Good God- you don’t know!” he breathed.

“I don’t know what?” Ewan asked, feeling unnervingly helpless.

The
Laird
looked up at the other man. “The English surrounding the MacRae castle-
they’re being commended by
Colonel Everleigh.”

“Everleigh?” Ewan blinked in noncomprehension.

The
Laird
nodded, “The seducer of the old
Laird
’s daughter- Ewan, it’s Cait’s father!”

Ewan reeled at the news.
Cait’s father!
To his knowledge, Cait had never had any sort of relationship with the man. He hadn’t even acknowledged paternity- but there was clearly a history with the clan. Regardless of whether Cait knew him or not, the association would reflect badly on her-
on them both.

“You know what you have to do?” The old
Laird
said.

Ewan’s lips pressed into a hard grim line as he considered the meaning behind the
Laird
’s words.

He was going to have to give Cait up.

The pain that sliced through Ewan’s heart at that revelation
was nearly unbearable
. Could he do it? He wasn’t sure that he could. He didn’t give his
heart readily
- but
now that he had, he had done so completely
.

“It’s the hardest thing about being
Laird
.”