Aye, a wife could order clean rushes and have bread made without stones.
And his children needed a mother. His children had good Scottish blood on the inside, but even to him their outsides needed some polishing. It was too late for his eldest daughter, Lioslath, to be made into a lady. Yet Fyfa, only seven, still had a chance.
And what of his clan? They expected him to return with a rich bride and twenty sheep. He had the sheep, but without the bride, he’d have to return them.
There were only two places she could be. She was only a woman, after all. Weak-hearted and a Colquhoun at that. She wouldn’t last on her own, which meant she was either on her way north and his snivelling messenger had missed her, or on her way south as her brothers had suggested.
He was confident if she returned to her brothers, they would bring her to heel. In these turbulent times, they would not want a feud between their clans.
But if she was south it would be he alone who would capture her. He allowed the pleasure of revenge to course through him.
Aye, he would catch her. At the least, the ride south would give him time to think of the punishment that would not hamper her use to him.
‘Paddocks and spiders!’ Gaira exclaimed. ‘Not again!’
She grabbed at her loosening hair, but the swirling wind wreaked havoc with her attempts to replait it and she tugged at the strays until her head hurt.
‘Alec!’ she called high and sharp, her agitation growing with the pain in her head. ‘Alec! Where are you?’
She heard no reply and she could see no movement. The hills around her dipped and rose as they saw fit. All she saw were the sparse, thin trees to her right and the wide steep valley that dipped to a small lake on her left. She turned her back on the valley.
She limped towards the trees and away from the camp. It was a sparse affair meant for her lone survival. It wasn’t enough for her and four children. Especially since one of the children included a five-year-old with a penchant for stealing.
‘Alec!’ she shouted. ‘So help me, dearest God, if you doona return that leather skein, you won’t get a drop of water for a week!’
Giggles.
Gaira whirled around on her right foot and spotted a blur deeper in the trees. She limped, trying to catch the boy who ran as fast as his legs could run. She admired his spirit, even though she had to lunge to tackle him as gently as she could. The boy struggled in her arms before becoming still and looking at her solemnly.
Laughing, she grabbed the skein. ‘You’ve got to stop stealing, ’tis taking me too long to get the chores done and I still have to find food.’
The boy’s eyes widened. ‘Will that man return, Auntie Gaira?’
Frowns. Arrogance. English. But they were all still alive. She hoped she was right to trust the man. He hadn’t returned and it was already late morning.
‘I think not,’ she answered. Knowing her concerns could be read in her eyes, she poked him in the belly. ‘Now get, so I can prepare food for your fat belly.’
The boy stood. ‘Won’t there be food where we’re going?’
There should be food, but whether her back-stabbing brothers would give him any, she didn’t know. ‘Aye, child. There’s food a-plenty back at my home. Why, my brother is the biggest, strongest laird in all of Scotland, and his larder is so full he’ll be grateful for you just showing up to help him empty it.’
‘But if there’s so much food for you there, why were you fleeing down here?’
Her heart flipped. ‘Who says I was fleeing?’
‘When we were in the trees, we could see you flying up the hill on your horse. Flora said you were running away from something bad.’
‘Oh, Flora said that, did she?’
‘Aye, we figured you couldn’t be running from Doonhill because you hadn’t seen...’ He stopped. His eyes started to tear. ‘Hadna seen...’ he started to say again.
Gaira knelt down and gave him a fierce hug. ‘Aye, Flora’s right. I hadn’t seen what had happened to your home yet. But I was anxious to get to Doonhill all the same. Nae reason to think I was fleeing.’
The boy leaned into her. ‘Are we going to be safe again?’
Dear God, she didn’t know. She wasn’t sure of anything since her brother had forcefully handfasted her to the cruellest laird in all Scotland. But her brother’s land was the only safe place she knew where to take the children.
Gaira tightened her embrace. ‘Nae matter what it takes, I swear I will keep you safe.’
Quickly, she grabbed and tickled him. ‘Except from me!’ Alec squirmed and giggled again, all worry leaving his face.
‘Now get your fat belly back to the camp and doona let me be catching you stealing again.’
Laughing, he ran towards the camp.
She walked after him. His belly wasn’t as fat as it was just a few days ago. Still, if they didn’t leave Doonhill soon, they’d be in a worse predicament than starving to death.
When she reached the camp, Robert sat hunched over the fire pit. He was poking several large pieces of meat that sizzled and flared over the open flame. Her stomach growled in response.
But it wasn’t Robert’s returning or the fact he was cooking that surprised her. It was the children peaceably nibbling on oatcakes. Each sat, perfect as could be, in a semicircle around the campfire and Robert.
Except for Creighton, who sat the furthest away, his eyes never leaving the Englishman’s back. She so wanted to soothe Creighton, to help him release his anger, but despite wishing otherwise, he still would not speak.
Creighton and Flora were the ones she had most been worried about with Robert’s presence. They were the oldest and the most aware of who had killed their parents.
Robert suddenly met her gaze and she stumbled.
‘The meat will be ready soon.’
The timbre of his voice, rather than his words, broke her thoughts. She breathed air into her starved lungs and straightened herself. What was wrong with her? She felt as if nothing would be normal again and all he was doing was making them breakfast.
‘You’re here,’ she said, not hiding her confusion from her voice.
‘Aye, the food is far into the wood line. No wonder your traps weren’t working.’
She wanted to ask him why he’d returned. Why bother, when he so clearly did not belong here? But she was all too aware of the children watching her and all too worried about his answer.
And now he had brought them food, shared his own oatcakes.
‘Do
