Page 3 of When a Highlander Vows
A laird must do things he does nae like, at times,he reminded himself.
It was the way of things and had been for years. He had never regretted his duty to his people and those on his lands, except for today. News of the death of his best friend, was like a sword straight through the heart. Seamus MacLennan was like warm light on a cold day. Even the death of his parents had not affected Lucas so much. In fact, he’d been more relieved. Butwithout Seamus, there was one less of the precious few people in his life whom he truly cared about.
As a merchant, Seamus had traveled often, but he would come to the castle and share tales of his adventures and show a bit of kindness to his laird whenever he passed. They’d met when Lucas’ parents had sent him away to the north to train as a warrior.
They’d become friends of a sort, and because of that, years later, Lucas was fulfilling what he’d promised to do. He remembered when Seamus had asked him to do it, a few years back, when he’d first embarked on being a merchant.
“Will ye take care of me younger sister, me Laird, if something happens to me? Caitlin? She has nay one left in the world, save me. Her eyesight is nae good either. Say ye will help if somethin’ happens to me.”
They’d been drinking wine at the time, and the fire was warm, and Lucas had been happy then and feeling generous to his friend. He’d nodded in agreement and vowed that he would. But he’d never expected Seamus to die so young. He had no idea that he would have to fulfill his duty so soon.
Swallowing back the grief that tormented him day and night, he raised his fist to knock on the door. His man-at-arms, Archie McCann, stood not far away, by the horses, and Lucas clenched his fists at his sides, waiting. Something moved inside, and the door swung open.
A young, mousy-haired young woman with dark circles under her eyes answered.
“Aye, Sir? Have ye come to pay yer respects?”
Lucas blinked for a moment. Normally, he would be recognized, or so he’d thought, being the laird, but he did not often go out as he should have done.
“Aye, of a sort. Is the lady at home? Miss MacLennan?”
“Aye, I will show ye in.”
He ducked under the doorframe, his tall body being too large to fit comfortably inside such a diminutive house. But once inside, he could stretch out a bit more.
The woman from the door led him to a large main room where another was seated, looking outside of the window. When Lucas laid eyes upon her, the breath left his body. Beautiful morning light was streaming in through the one window of the house, and she sat right in the center of it. It shone through her golden hair which was plaited down her one shoulder.
Her eyes were a light brown, and he could see them sparkle as she stared into the light, her fist under her chin, elbow resting on the edge of the chair. Freckles dusted her cheeks, making her look youthful, and fairy-like. Her lips were slightly pursed, as if she was right on the verge of sharing her thoughts.
He could tell she was lean and tall by the way she sat, and he wondered there for a moment, why had Seamus not said what a beauty his sister was.
That would be a strange thing for a man to say about his sister.
He cleared his throat, for the woman seemed lost in a trance. She turned, suddenly, surprised to see him, her lips still pursed briefly. To see her face in full was an even greater shock. The features aligned so perfectly, and he really did feel as though he was in the presence of a fae creature.
“Forgive the interruption,” he said, stepping a bit closer. “I am Laird McDougall, Lucas Murdoch. Yer brother was a good friend to me, and I am very sorry to hear about his loss. He was a good man. Ye must be mournin’ him terribly.”
The young woman stood rapidly, and she squinted at him a bit and gave him a quick smile. “Ye are too kind, Laird. I am sorry that I dinnae recognize ye, but ye might have heard that me eyes are nae good. Would ye mind steppin’ a bit closer? I can see fine when the object is in front of me face.”
Surprised to have been so spoken to, he stepped forward dutifully, and her eyes followed his. She was looking up now at him, and now that he was closer, he could get an even better view of her sweet face.
“I am Caitlin MacLennan. I have heard much of ye from Seamus over the years. Please, ye must sit. Take some ale and refreshments. Mary, will ye bring some ale for our guest?”
“Yes, Miss,” the mousy-haired woman scurried away.
He sat in a nearby chair, and Caitlin gracefully lowered herself into the one she’d been sitting in when he arrived.
“I thank ye for comin’.” She folded her hands and then unfolded them, and he could tell that she was nervous, the way she looked about, searching for the woman to return.
He found that he couldn’t speak, and when she rose, saying, “I think I will check on her,” he finally found the words.
“Please sit, Miss Caitlin. I am sorry, but I think I am nae exactly sure what to say in such a situation. I have lost me parents, and so I ken grief very well, indeed, but it is a different thing entirely to see it in another person. To have the right words to say to another.”
This time, she smiled at him, and it reached her eyes, even if there was still the mark of sadness in her expression.
“Ye seem to understand people quite well, me Laird. I have nae heard someone say it in that way before. Aye, I think ye are quite right.” She folded her hands more confidently now in her lap, and Lucas knew he had to say what he came to say.
Thankfully, the ale came, and he was handed a cool clay mug. He took a sip, thinking over his words for another few seconds before he began.
