The Outcast Highlander (27 page)

“And that you’ll never understand until you ask him.”

“But how can I ask him when he’s not here.”

“He’ll return for you, lass. You just have to have faith in love.”

That was all well and good. Only in Kensey’s experience, love wasn’t often faithful, and her partner’s never outlasted hers. She might as well have faith in tealeaves or apple cores. It would do her just as much good.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Kensey couldn’t sleep. She’d woken up crying, and not sure exactly why. But now she was afraid to go back to sleep in that giant bed she’d been alone in for over four months now. Afraid that one more night of waking and reaching for Broccin would drive her crazy. That one more night of sleeping with his memory and without him would make her forget her promise to Robert and leave for Inverness and France in the middle of the night.

She’d been walking circles in the kitchen with only a torch in the corner to light her way since she’d woken and come downstairs to get away from the memory of Broccin. The room that still bore his scent in places and a bed that only reminded her of him in its emptiness. The walking had been warming her, as she was still wearing only her nightdress.

She was also becoming weary of constantly hearing Fiona’s baby wake and cry during the night. Lying awake listening to the babe’s cries made tears come to her own eyes, wishing Broccin had at least left her with a reminder of himself, in his child. But he had not even wanted her enough to give her that. And that was almost as difficult to bear as his absence.

Kensey heard creaking noises upstairs and decided to walk up and see who was awake. As she neared the stairs, she listened for Nualla’s incessant cries, but heard none. Approaching Duncan’s room, she could actually hear voices. Her feet padded on the stone floor as she crept along the hallway, trying to avoid making too much noise.

“Does Kensey know?” she heard Fiona ask through the doorway.
Kensey pressed her ear to the cold wood.

“Nay, I thought it best not to tell her just yet. Give Broccin some time,” Duncan said in response.

“When did it happen?”

“Last week,” Duncan answered, after a long pause. “I’m told Elizabeth will go to live with her brother in London. Without Andrew’s protection, she’s not safe at Avoch.”

“Then why hasn’t Broc returned, yet?”

“I don’t know why, my love.”

Kensey froze, her eyes and mouth wide open.
They’re speaking of Broccin
, she thought.
Andrew must be dead and Broc hasn’t yet returned.

“How did you hear of it?”

“A Page from Avoch. I assume from Elizabeth, although it may have been Broc himself that sent the word.”

“But no word for Kensey?”

“Nay, not even a scratched note.”

“What does that mean?”

“It probably means he would prefer she doesn’t learn about the whole situation from some missive delivered by a stranger.”

“You don’t think…” Fiona stopped. The baby began to cry again and she kept talking, although her voice got farther away from Kensey’s hearing. “You don’t think Broc went after Elizabeth.”

“I hope not, for Kensey’s sake. The man needs to return to his wife.”

Kensey stiffened, not wanting to hear anymore. Being carefully quiet, she returned to her room with tears flooding her cheeks.

“I cannot stay here a moment longer,” she wept, tearing her nightdress from her body and slipping into a shift. She piled her clothes into a travelling bag that she’d placed on the great bed. “Broccin doesn’t love me, and I refuse to stay here.”

She contemplated her escape and decided it would be best to leave Robert here. She needed to run somewhere she wouldn’t be caught and she knew Robert would be safer and more comfortable here with Duncan, Fiona, and Morainn. Kensey didn’t want Robert to suffer for her bad choices.

Grabbing the bag off the bed, Kensey fled from the room and down the stairs to the library. She found a pen and paper and scrawled a quick note to Fiona before taking one last look around the castle and walking through the doors, ready to embark on her great journey.

She ran quickly to the stables, which were deserted by now, it was so dark. Kensey realized she’d never be able to get past the guard with a horse without getting caught. She could, however, slip out a small door in the side of the castle without being seen and make her way to her old home. From there, she could secretly find Ete or Ene and get some money or provisions that she could repay, and she would go to France herself.

Robert had made it clear he wished no part in her life in France, and if he wanted to be a Sinclair so badly, she would let him. Someday, Duncan would help him take back her father’s lands. There would be many years to prepare the lad for that. Then, perhaps Kensey could return herself. To the home she knew, and not to the home where Broc abandoned her.

The door was old and very difficult to manage, but she somehow slipped out without visibly waking anyone or causing a disturbance. It was dark enough not to be seen, but light enough that she could make out her footing. Kensey stayed to the extreme east of the castle until she felt safely out of sight of the guard, when she began to cut directly south.

As she crested a hill, looking down into the valley, she saw a cluster of torches bobbing and wondered who in their right mind would be this far north in the middle of the night.

Thinking quickly, Kensey had to make a spur of the moment decision, as it seemed the group was headed straight toward her. She cut even farther to the east in an effort to avoid the oncoming mass of mounted men, and hoped beyond hope that no one would see her, as the darkness was beginning to lift and there was little cover around. Finally coming to a place she thought she’d be safe, on the side of the hill behind a small bush, she hunkered down and waited, praying that whomever it was would just pass her by.

***

Broccin dismounted in the courtyard as the darkness was just beginning to fade. He had been greeted by exaltations from the guard and shouts from the members of his household and family. The noise had, no doubt, wakened the inhabitants of the solar and the family rooms, and he awaited a flurry of excitement as he walked up the stairs toward the doors where he hoped to see Kensey emerge.

He had such news.

Instead, Robert came bursting from them and jumped up into his embrace immediately. The young boy was babbling and crying, so happy to see him. Broccin’s heart bubbled with emotion and he held the boy tightly.

“Oh, Broccin!” Robert exclaimed. “Kensey will be so happy to see you. She’ll be so glad you’ve come back.”

“Broccin!” Duncan embraced him as he still held Robert. “You’re finally back!”

“It’s Broc!” Morainn screamed as she came through the doors. She, too, jumped directly onto her brothers and the four of them collapsed, a giggling mass, to the ground.

Fiona stood in the doorway, chuckling to herself and watching as everyone wriggled around, making fools of themselves. She looked back into the house, quickly, wondering where Kensey was.

“I’m so glad you’ve returned to us,” Fiona smiled as Broccin kissed her cheek, finally emerging from the dog pile on the ground. “Kensey will be so happy to see you.”

“Where is Kensey?” Broccin asked, looking around.

“Probably sleeping.” Robert hung onto Broc as if he might vanish at any second. “She could sleep through the storming of the castle.” Broccin smiled at the boy, bursting to tell him the news about his father. But he must tell Kensey first.

She would be so ecstatic with joy. Her father alive, and while not fully well yet, on his way to wellness. He would collect his wife and her brother and be off for Avoch the very next morning if he could manage it. Kensey had been such a healer to him when he was injured, and every day of his own recovery at Avoch, he’d thought of her. Surely she could be the angel that healed her father as well.

“You should go and see her,” urged Duncan. “The lass has been so anxious to see you since I’ve come home.” The look in Duncan’s eyes spoke volumes to his brother. “She
will
be happy to see you.”

Broccin strode through the doors and was immediately greeted by Brigid’s fierce hug and Alec’s bustling him on the shoulders with greetings and glad tidings.

“What has been happening around here?” Broccin asked, laughingly congratulating his sister. “I must be the only member of this family without a bairn on the way.”

The silence that followed was pervasive and mirthless, and Broccin realized he’d misspoken immediately, but could not think of a way to disqualify his statement.

“I do not have a bairn,” insisted Morainn, sticking her lip out in defiance. “And neither does Robert. Nor Alana.”

“Thank you, lass.” Broc laughed nervously, kneeling to embrace his little sister once again. “You always know just what to say.” Morainn looked confused, but simply smiled and hugged her brother fiercely.

“We must leave you now,” Duncan insisted. “You’ll want to get up to see your wife, and we do not wish to keep you from her. It’s been far too long.” Giving his brother a knowing look, Duncan led the rest of the family up the stairs. “We’re just glad you’re home. We’ll have all your news in the morning, after you’ve talked to Kensey and Robert.”

“But it is morning, Duncan,” Morainn pointed out as Duncan took her by the hand. Refusing to abate his laughter, Duncan merely smiled and continued to lead her away.

“Not for those of us who need to go back to sleep,” he said, laughter in his voice. “But we must leave Broccin alone to see his wife again.”

My wife
, Broccin thought to himself. It had been so long since he’d seen her, he’d almost forgotten how wonderful he’d felt when they’d been married and when he’d slept beside her.
My wife
.

Broccin ascended the stairs with a quiet somberness. He brooded as he approached his room over what he would say to Kensey and how he would waken her when he did finally see her again.

Opening the door, he listened for signs of her in the room. As soon as he stepped inside, he could smell her. That familiar rosemary scent almost dropped him to his knees as he encountered it. But he was able to continue to the bed, where he stopped.

Even in the dark, he could tell it was empty.

“Kensey?” he asked aloud, thinking she might be in the room somewhere. But there was no answer. He called her name again, louder. Still no answer.

Had he missed her in the hallway? Had she taken the back stairs down to meet him, thinking to avoid the family’s crowd?

Stalking through the door, he went directly to the room she used to occupy, thinking she might be sleeping in that bed out of protest, but he found it wholly undisturbed. He stormed to Duncan’s room and knocked.

Duncan pulled the door open and his eyebrows shot up. “What is it?”

“Where’s Kensey?” Broccin asked. “I searched our room, her old room, I’ve been all over the halls. Where is she? The lass hasn’t gone, has she?”

“No.” Duncan scratched his already messed red hair. “I saw her before she retired and she was going to bed early.”

“Then why isn’t she occupying that bed right now?”

“I don’t understand,” Duncan said. “Have you checked downstairs?”

Broccin ran downstairs, followed closely by Duncan. They searched each room quickly, with no luck. They met in the kitchen, staring at one another, too dumbfounded to speak.

Footsteps clamored through the halls. “Duncan!” Quinlan called. “Duncan, where are you?” The hulking man came into the kitchen as Duncan shouted back. “Broc! Erm. I mean, m’lord.” Quinlan bowed his head as he approached.

“Please, Quinlan.” Broccin waved off his salutation. “What brings you here in the middle of the night?”

“It looks as though we are under attack, m’lord.”

Broccin’s eyes widened immediately. “Who is it?”

“They not flying colors, which means raiders.”

Duncan shot his brother an incredulous look. “Why would raiders attack a known friend of the Scottish crown?”

Quinlan shook his head. “Alec was on watch and he says he believes them to be Ross men and some Englishmen. They’re having some trouble crossing the ravine, but Alec said they’re going to make better time once they get across.”

“I thought Colin Ross was forever incapacitated by that blow you gave him.” Broc leaned on the table, staring down his brother.

Duncan shrugged. “We’d heard the same. Either he’s not with them, or he’s had a miracle.”

“Well won’t we all just get on our knees and thank the good Christ.” Quinlan spat. “I’d best be back to Alec. Do you have orders, sir?”

Broc realized for the first time that Quinlan was waiting on him, not Duncan. It would be a long road toward remembering who was the laird of this clan, after all.

Broc motioned for them to walk toward the tower. The three men stalked through the castle, calling for all the men to be roused and dressed.

“Could you see how they are armed?” Broccin asked, mounting the stairs to the tower.

“Not really.” Quinlan followed, his hands outstretched to the walls. Duncan was behind, pushing the pace.

“Have they attacked yet, or are they still at a distance?”

“They’re almost to the castle gate as we speak.” Quinlan began to heave air as they reached the top. They crossed to the turret where Alec extended a spyglass.

“I can’t see much,” Alec said. “But what I can see is that they’re through the outlying lands and almost past the ravine. They’re going to be at the castle gate likely before we can rouse even just the men who are inside the gates.”

“Alec, you take my horse and ride out along the ravine. I left Gaidel tied up in the courtyard, so you won’t have to saddle a horse. See if you can get a good look at their colors or their leader. And if you see English soldiers, you ride back like the wind and we’ll kill them all, every one.”

Alec left the spyglass on the turret and ran for the stairs.

Duncan’s eyes were wide. “We should get the women and children back into the great hall. Keep them as far from the fighting as we can.”