A Year and a Day (40 page)

“He left to fight a war!” Muira insisted.

“That doesn’t change the reason that he came in the first place,” Cait insisted. “I was never anything more to him than…than a body to warm his bed.”

“He
loved
you, Cait!” Muira cried.

“He
didn’t
,” Cait said coldly, “Or if he did, it wasn’t enough,” she used a tone to imply that her opinion was final. “At any rate, there’s no reason to bring it up now. It’
s in the past.
Ewan is getting married on Friday and-“

“He won’t marry
Mary
MacMillan
after he knows
you’re
here!”

Cait paled, “You aren’t going to tell him?”

“What?” Muira looked at Cait as though she were crazy, “Of course I am!”
 

“What? Muira! No!” Cait felt physically ill as she considered all the damage that her friend could do. Not only would Cait be exposed to her former husband- the Frasures would learn of her lies as well! She would lose everything!

“Why shouldn’t I tell him?” Muira demanded, “You don’t know how he was when we los
t you, Cait! You didn’t see him!
Do you think it’s fair to let him keep suffering- to think that you’re dead?”

Cait doubted very much that Ewan was suffering- or even that he had in the past. No doubt it would be far worse for him to know that she was still around- an inconvenience to throw his perfect political marriage in doubt! “No,” Cait agreed, willing to say almost anything to keep Muira’s mouth shut, “That isn’t it. I just…I just want to tell him myself.”

“What?” Muira asked, frowning as though she didn’t understand.

“I mean…I mean, of course I’m going to tell him,” Cait said, warming to the lie, “I just…I’m just waiting for the right time.”

Muira was still frowning sceptically at her friend, so Cait hastily explained, “That’s why I didn’t tell anyone that I was here,” Cait embroidered, “Why it has to
stay
a secret. The
MacMillan
s might not like it if they know I didn’t die…and Ewan might choose
Mary
MacMillan
over me-”

“He WON’T!” Muira interrupted, but Cait ignored her and continued.

“I’m going to meet with Ewan and talk to him.”

“When?”
 

“Tomorrow,” Cait lied again, “I’m going to meet with him tomorrow and…and until and unless Ewan decides otherwise, we’re all just going to play along as if the wedding to Miss
MacMillan
is still going on.”

“But-!” Muira protested weakly. Cait kept talking.

“Muira, you
have
to promise- not just for me! For the clan!”

“But-!” Muira said again.

Cait sighed heavily, and then whispered a little prayer of thanks when she was interrupted by a masculine voice.

“Muira?”

It was
Lachlan
, Muira’s husband, no doubt calling her back to bed. Muira looked over her shoulder anxiously. “Cait! What time are you going to talk to him? When can I see you again?”

“You
can’t!
” Cait hissed, whispering now that
Lachlan
’s voice was growing closer, “You can’t tell anyone that I’m here either. I’ll come to
you
when the coast is clear…I may not be able to get to Ewan straight away.”

“But you have to! Cait! The wedding is-!”

“Muira? Are you down there?”
Lachlan
’s voice grew closer, causing a stab of panic in Cait’s breath.

“You can’t tell
anyone
!” Cait said, casting a significant look in the direction of
Laird
MacRae’s voice. “Swear to me! I’m asking you as my friend!”

“I swear not to tell
Lachlan
!” Muira said, though she looked miserable.

“Or Ewan!” Cait prodded, already slinking toward a side passage. “Muira?”
 

“Or Ewan,” Muira agreed sullenly.

“Good!” Cait said, her voice full of relief. “Thank you, Muira! I promise it will all work out…you just have to give me time!” she didn’t wait for her friend’s reply. Without waiting a second longer, she dashed away down the hall.

“So?”

Ewan walked out of his bedroom the next morning and very nearly walked directly back inside. His sister was standing outside the doorway, his little namesake slung over one arm, apparently waiting to ambush him.

“So?” Ewan echoed wearily.

“So? How did it go last night?” Muira asked.

Ewan ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He’d frankly expected his sister’s curiosity, but he’d expected to have a little more time to prepare to deal with it. “It went fine,” he said tightly.

“Only fine?” Muira pressed.

Ewan’s expression darkened, “Only fine. She stayed a while and then James stopped by and offered to take her back to her room.”

“Good,” Muira said, finally saying something that her brother didn’t expect.

“Good?” he said, wondering if they would ever reach a point in the conversation when he wasn’t imitating his sister’s every word.

“Yes…well, since you aren’t madly in love with her, it makes things a lot simpler, don’t you think?”

“Er…yes?” Ewan said warily, not sure what his sister was getting at.

“Well…” Muira frowned briefly, “She isn’t in love with
you
do you think?”

“No,” Ewan admitted. The only thing that had made his fiancé smile all evening was when James offered to take her away. Although it bruised his ego, he couldn’t deny that the feeling was mutual.

“Good!” Muira said, features bright again, “Then you can call everything off with no harm done.”

“Call everything off?” Ewan went from surprised to positively astounded. “Call off the wedding?”

“Yes,” Muira said, nodding as if she hadn’t spoken anything out of turn.

“Are you completely mad?” Muira opened her mouth to answer, but he didn’t let her, “Why on Earth would I ever do that?”

His sister opened and then closed her mouth. She frowned in his direction. “You haven’t had any other…er…’visitors’ today then?”

Ewan groaned. It was
much
to early to be playing these games. “No, y Muira, I don’t usually receive visitors before the crack of dawn!”
Even my blasted sister!
He felt like adding, but didn’t. “Who, pray tell, was I meant to meet with to turn me off the course to marital bliss?”

“Why-!” Muira started, opening her mouth to make some sort of indignant reply, but she caught herself mid-word, deflating like a punctured bubble. “Why…uhm…” she bit her lip, looked
very
guilty, and then tried to create a distraction by fidgeting with her son.

“Who, Muira?” Ewan demanded.

“No one,” the woman replied, looking rather…worried? “That is…I’m sure they’ll be around later. I just thought that she’d…uhm…
they’d
be around early, that’s all,” she very noticeably refused to meet her brother’s
eyes. “And when she-THAT PERSON
- does come by…well, I just want you to know that…I’m here for you and support you one hundred percent. Whatever
Lachlan
and I can do…”

“Good, God, Muira! What on earth
are you talking about?” Ewan said, losing patience with the stammering, but Muira wouldn’t say.

“I think that Ewan Graem needs his swaddling changed,” she spoke quickly. Then, before Ewan could register what she had said- and demand that she return- she had darted down the corridor.

Ewan stared after his sister in confusion, half-wondering if he was still asleep. Someone was coming to visit him? Apparently, they were going to try to convince him not to marry the
MacMillan
girl? Why? More Importantly,
who
?
 

Ewan’s mind immediately jumped to a few of the castle lassies who had shared his attentions in the past, feeling a clutch of panic as he tried to work out whether any of them were currently with child. It was only a second before it passed, however. It had been far too long since his last indiscretion for an angry papa to be a threat. There had been no one since Cait.

He almost laughed. If someone had told him two years ago that he would willingly go nine days without a warm body in his bed, much less nine long and lonely months then he would have called them liars. The truth was, however, that mere forni
cat
ion no longer held any appeal. Mere physical pleasure was no match for what he’d shared with Cait.

Ewan sighed. Cait’s memory had been with him every hour of every day since he’d lost her, but now the almost-constant pain was as bad as it had been just after her death. He couldn’t describe how he felt. Ewan tried to put the feeling into words as he walked slowly through the still-deserted halls. It was as if he could
feel
her
nearby! As if he could reach out and touch her. As if-

Ewan stopped dead in his tracks, jaw hanging open and eyes bulging nearly out of his head as he looked ahead.

At the end of the hallway was a huge gilt mirror.

Framed in its centre- was
Cait.

Ewan stared, not even breathing as he took in the ghostly shape: his former wife, clad all in white, carrying something in her arms.

“Cait!” he couldn’t keep himself from crying out.

It was as if she heard him. The figure turned, meeting his gaze for one, electric moment. Ewan reached to rub his eyes. When he looked up again, the ghost was gone.

Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry
! Cait thought with all her might, praying that the silent plea would be heeded by her son. She knew better than to leave her room, but the emotional tension of the day, combined with the confinement of her tiny bedchamber was sending her stir crazy. Robert felt it too. She thought that it would be good to take him out of doors for some fresh air before the house began to stir.

She had been
so
careful! Cait hadn’t left the servant’s corridors for the whole of her journey down, using her knowledge of the castle routine to select the ones she knew to be empty. Once free, s
he wandered in the rose garden. It was
still dewey and silent as the fine ladies who would grace it later in the day continued to sleep.

By the time she decided to return, however, her son was growing restless. She could save nearly ten minutes of walking by cutting across one of the open halls. She decided to do it- which turned out to be a terrible mistake!

Ewan had
seen
her!

Cait tried not to even think about the terrible truth, concentrating simply on getting away as quickly as possible. Luckily, he had seen her from the far end of a long corridor. Before he could reach the corner, she had dashed back into one of the service halls. She
raced
up a flight of stairs, took another
hidden
passage
way
, and swept behind a tapestry before she dared to believe that she was safe.

Finally convinced that she wasn’t being followed, Cait sank against the wall and began to shake. She hadn’t expected the sight of him to affect her so strongly, but it did.  Just knowing that he was nearby had been hard- but seeing him
was unbearable
!