Highland Groom (35 page)

"Nay. In fact, the mon was wooing ye verra prettily, if I am nay mistaken."

"Aye, I think he was wooing me. Dinnae ken why. Why does a mon need to woo his wife? Does that make sense to ye?"

"Aye and nay. A husband needs to keep his wooing sharp, I think, to keep the wife happy. In your case, the husband needs to do some wooing because he hasnae been that kind to ye since ye arrived at Clachthrom. He remembered everything and now kens that he has been unkind. I think he was trying to mend things or make apologies, or something."

"Aye, he woos me after he remembers everything. He didnae woo me just because he wanted to when his wits were rattled. Nay, he waited until his memory was back and then he thinks, oh, Ilsa isnae so bad, is she? So, then he starts wooing."

Sigimor looked at his brothers and Liam, but only Liam was smiling. Somerled and Tait looked as confused as he felt. Since Liam was smiling, he fixed his gaze on him, and jerked his head toward Ilsa, silently urging his cousin to deal with it.

"Ilsa, what are ye running from?" asked Liam.

"Why would ye think I was running?" she asked, and frowned when, suddenly, it was only her and Liam sitting at the fire. "Cowards," she muttered.

Liam laughed. "Aye, they are. Ye are running, Ilsa, but ye are a clever lass.

I think ye ken ye cannae run far enough or fast enough to escape what is troubling ye."

"I loved him, ye ken," she said quietly.

"I ken it. Ye never would have let him seduce ye if ye didnae. Nay, ye would have left him a piece or two short and his cars ringing with curses."

"Wheesht, I dinnae think I was quite that bad." She sighed. "I am just so confused. When I got to Clachthrom and found out he didnae e'en remember me, weel, that hurt. Then I decided to accept that and start all over. All that time that he had no memory of me, I tried to get him to care for me as I ken he used to. It didnae work, nay verraweel."

"Ah." Liam nodded. "Then he gets his memory back and all is weel, except that ye remember several months where naught ye could do would make him care."

Ilsa blinked and stared at her cousin. "I think that might be it. I also think I am a coward."

"Weel, in matters of the heart a great many of us are cowards. Love and all that can leave a deep wound and it cannae be stitched. I think the bleeding can last for many a year."

"Mayhap for the rest of your life," she whispered then shook her head. "I went from being his lover and someone he cared about, to being a liar and mayhap a killer, to just being mayhap a liar, and suddenly back to being his wife and someone he may care about."

"And thus a verra great confusion."

"Exactly. When he left for Dubheidland to find out the truth, he was at the point where he thought I might be lying just a wee bit. Then he returns, our enemy is defeated, and suddenly he is like the Diarmot I kenned a year ago. I just need time to think about it all."

"Aye, ye do. I wouldnae take too long to think and think hard, though."

"Ye think Sigimor will make me go back?"

"Och, nay, for all he may start growling about wives and the rules they ought to follow." Liam exchanged a grin with Ilsa. "Nay, love, I think your husband will be coming after ye."

Ilsa was not so sure about that. Diarmot was a proud man and she had just left him without a word. He would have to explain her absence to everyone. That was not going to make him very happy.

To her relief, nothing more was said. She rode home to Dubheidland with her brothers and Liam and it was just as it always used to be. It was also not the same, she realized. No matter how hard she tried to put him from her mind for the length of the journey home, she kept thinking about Diarmol. By the time she reached her little cottage, she was tired of thinking of the man.

"So, here ye are, lass," said Sigimor as he set her bag down in the cottage.

"Just as ye left it. I will send some lads down here with some food and ale."

"Thank ye, Sigimor," she said as she let Gay take Cearnach so that she could slip away and feed the twins.

"I ken Liam said I should just leave it be, but--" he sighed and dragged a hand through his hair.

"Just say it, Sigimor. I think whatever it is ye are thinking has probably been gnawing away at ye for the whole ride here."

"He is a good mon, Ilsa."

"I ken it."

"I think ye could have a verra good marriage and all those bairns love ye."

She winced. It was hard not to think about how her leaving might have hurt the children. Even telling herself that it was best for them if she could rid herself of the mass of tangled emotions within her did not ease her guilt by much.

"Weel, that is it," he said and kissed her on the cheek. "Ye do your thinking then. Just remember that ye have a good mon for a husband and six wee bairns that love ye. I ken ye think I am nay being fair by mentioning them, but I dinnae think ye can make any decision without considering them."

"Nay, ye are right. I cannae."

"Think hard and fast, lass."

"Hard and fast? Why?"

"Because I am expecting your mon to come after ye e'en if ye arenae."

Ilsa cursed as he left. She had come to the cottage for peace and time to think. If Liam and Sigimor were right, she was not going to be given much of either.

"Weel, ye took your time in coming here," said Sigimor as, three days later, Diarmot strode into the great hall of Dubheidland, Nanty and Odo by his side.

"I wasnae planning to make a journey," said Diarmot as he sat down, set Odo down on the seat next to him, and helped himself to a tankard of ale. "There were a few things which needed to be done ere I could leave." He smiled his thanks at a young boy who poured Odo a tankard of goat's milk before sitting down next to the boy. "And ye are?"

"Fergus the last," the boy replied and grinned. "Have ye come to take that stubborn, senseless sister of ours back home to Clachthrom?"

Diarmot looked at Sigimor. "Been ranting about her, have ye?"

"And ye havenae?"

"I think he has," said Odo, "but he mumbles a lot and I cannae understand what he is saying. Glenda said that was probably a good thing as most of it was probably cursing."

"Aye," agreed Sigimor. "And why have ye come, lad?"

"I was chosen by the others to make sure Papa doesnae say anything stupid."

Sigimor and the other Camerons gathered in the great hall roared with laughter and Diarmot sighed. He thought it very traitorous of Nanty to join in with them. Even Odo giggled. He had tried to convince the boy that he did not need the help, but there had been no dissuading him. Diarmot had not had the heart to simply refuse to take him, either. The children had been very accepting of Ilsa's leaving, but he knew that was because they depended upon him to bring her back. Odo, he supposed, was their little guarantee.

"Have ye had a hard time of it, then?" asked Sigimor.

"Weel, nay," replied Diarmot. "The children have been verra patient. I was pressed to explain things a little better than Fraser did. She told them it was a woman's thing." He was able to join in the laughter this time.

"She has set her arse back in that wee cottage. Liam keeps an eye on her,"

Sigimor added and grinned.

"Does he. How kind of him."

"He thinks so. Now, dinnae misunderstand me, as I am nay blaming ye or her, but Ilsa is troubled. I had to leave it to Liam to talk to her because she started saying things that made my head ache. I am nay verra good at understanding her at times. Liam tried to explain it to me. It seems ye erred by nay wooing her when your wits were still rattled." He frowned. "Something about her being one thing then another then another and she doesnae ken what she is to ye or what she wants to be."

"Weel, that is as clear as mud."

"So thought I. I think ye were supposed to want to woo her when ye didnae ken who she was. Wheesht, that doesnae sound any better, does it."

"Nay. It doesnae matter. I will go and speak to her."

"And it looks as if ye chose a verra good time to do so." Sigimor nodded toward the door of the great hall.

Diarmot looked to see Gay enter carrying Finlay followed by Liam carrying Cearnach. Gay's eyes widened as she saw him, but before she could retreat, Odo was hugging her legs. Diarmot just smiled as Odo dragged her back to the table.

"Greetings, m'laird," said Gay as she let Diarmot take Finlay for a moment.

"I just brought the lads here to visit with their kinsmen."

"As they should." He handed Finlay back to Gay and took Cearnach from Liam.

"In fact, I think it would be verra good for them if they visited for a good long while. Let us say a whole night."

"Oh. If ye think they should."

"Aye, I think they should."

She sighed and nodded, then frowned slightly at Odo. "Why have ye brought him?"

"I came to make sure Papa didnae say anything stupid," said Odo and he grinned when Gay laughed. "I was chosen."

"Weel, that doesnae surprise me." Gay looked at Diarmot. "I dinnae believe she was intending to stay away verra long."

"Mayhap not now, but after a few days? Or a few days more?" He shrugged. "She has had her time to think. Now tis time to talk."

Diatmot did not lead the way Gay grimaced very encouraging, but he stood up and started for the door. He smiled faintly when Odo, Nanty, Tait, Sigimor, and Liam all fell into step behind him. For a long time he had been a very solitary man, morose and lost in his own troubled thoughts. It appeared that was most definitely at an end.

As he made his way to the little cottage where he and Ilsa had spent two blissful weeks after their handfasting, he told himself he must be calm, gentle, and understanding. Ever since she had come back into his life, Ilsa had been confronted with one trouble after another. It should be no surprise that she might be upset or uncertain.

The cottage was coming into view by the time he gave up trying to convince himself that he was not mad, or hurt, or insulted. He was all of those things.

He was also afraid that he had lost the chance to have back what he had so briefly enjoyed a little over a year ago. That soured his mood as well.

If Ilsa had just stayed at Clachthrom, they could have quietly sorted this out as the adults they were, he thought. Instead he had had to leave Clachthrom at a very busy time of the year, come to Dubheidland to face her vast army of kinsmen, and fetch her home where she belonged. Everyone at the two keeps knew his wife had run away from him. It was embarrassing. Ilsa obviously had not considered how it would look. His pride had been badly bruised by the whole affair. Few said anything, but it was easy to see that everyone thought he had done something to make her go away. He had had to endure a great deal of unasked-for advice about the management of wives.

By the time he reached the door of the cottage, Diarmot had worked himself up into a fine temper and was feeling sorely abused by his wife. He would give her some time to talk about whatever she thought was important, and then he would take her to bed. After that, he would take her home and there would be no more of this nonsense about needing time to think. That decided, he did not even bother to knock upon the door, just threw it open and glared at the woman who was causing him to act so irrationally. The brief look of horror that crossed her face when she saw him pleased him. Perhaps if she was a little afraid, he would not have to deal with much discussion. They would go to bed, exhaust themselves, and then go home. He crossed his arms over his chest and silently dared her to give him an argument.

*CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO*

Ilsa screeched softly in surprise when the door to the cottage was abruptly flung open. She turned to scold whichever brother had made such a rude entrance and nearly gaped. Diarmot stood there looking extremely cross, his arms folded over his chest as he glared at her. Odo stood beside him looking exactly like his father despite the darker hair. Behind them she could see Tait, Liam, Nanty, and Sigimor, all of them grinning in a way that made her want to slap them.

She desperately wanted to say something clever, but nothing came to mind.

Since she had fled her husband like a frightened child, she doubted she could say anything that he would find particularly amusing. She silently admitted to herself that she was embarrassed by her behavior, but she would rather nail her feet to the floor than admit it to anyone else. Neither would she let everyone know that she recognized her own cowardice.

"Greetings, husband," she said pleasantly as she grabbed a jug of ale and set it on the table. "Ye must wish a drink as I think ye have had a long, rather swift journey." She wondered why he had waited three days to follow her, then told herself not to be so petulant. She had wanted time to think, had she not?

"I see." He watched her set out tankards on the table through narrowed eyes.

"Verra weel, we shall play the game your way for a wee while." He moved to the table and sat down, Odo quickly sitting down beside him.

Looking at the four men peering in the door, she asked, "Are ye joining us?"

"We were just deciding if it was safe," said Tait as he led the other three men inside and sat down next to Odo.

"And why wouldnae it be?" Ilsa poured each of the men some ale, then gave Odo a small tankard of goat's milk.

"Mayhap they understand how irritated a mon might be to wake up and discover his wife has deserted him?" Diarmot asked. "Crept away like a thief in the night?"

"Actually, I crept away at dawn. Ye must have slept late."

Ilsa watched the other men's eyes widen even as Diarmot's narrowed again. She noticed that even Odo had stopped drinking his milk to gape at her. What made her goad her husband, she did not know, but she suspected she was not going to stop. Since the other men were drinking their ale rather quickly, she also suspected she and Diarmot would soon be alone together. Ilsa was not sure that was what she wanted.

"I needed my rest after my wife wrung me dry during the night," Diarmot drawled and took some pleasure in her blush, even though she looked strongly tempted to throw the jug of ale at his head. "After such a night, I was, naturally, quite surprised to find she had slipped away home."