Page 10 of The Highlander's Captured Bride
“…Are ye sure ye’ll be all right staying here for a few more days?” her father asked while reaching into his jacket and pulling out his spectacles, a set he rarely wore but used when looking at far places. He perched the spectacles on his nose and squinted at the dark line of people climbing the hill.
“I am.” She hid her smile. “Faither, did ye find anything in Master MacFerson’s room?
“Sadly,” his voice dropped in regret. “There was nothin’. Nay sign as who might want to or have the chance to kill him.”
“I’m sure yer kenning the same thing I am. The woman who lured Master MacFerson out is our only lead now,” she mused. Violet felt her father’s eyes on her, but paid him no mind. Various plans to fetter out the woman were running through her thoughts. Moreover, she felt that her father was trying to keep her away from the investigation. She had a few assumptions to go with that belief.
Most of the cases they took on did not have the deep mystery of Master MacFerson’s death. Some were much simpler, but when she reflected on those cases, she had to correct herself. Theyseemedsimpler but, in those instances, the culprit was always closer to the situation than they had believed.
The death of the MacFerson heir was planned, thought out fully and perfectly timed. They were looking for a crafty mastermind who knew Master MacFerson’s movements and could time him. Sadly, that included the whole castle, servants and soldiers and the village beyond.
“It is for now,” her father determined then gave her a hard look. “Violet, I ken ye, missy. Yer help at the beginning was invaluable, but this is a whole different situation. We dinnae have the help, contacts, or resources we’d otherwise have back home or in the cities. Ye need to sit away from this one and let me handle it.”
He made sense— Violetknewhe made sense, but she refused to stand idly by knowing she could help. However, she could not disclose her intentions to her father, but she could risk asking Ethan to help her since they were being set apart anyway. She wanted to take the risk of trusting Ethan and then have him trust her.
“Of course, Faither.” She then sighed heavily. “I’d rather nay have to stay away, but if ye ken it’s best…” she shrugged.
They spotted the casket being lowered into the grave and the men grabbing wooden shovels and filling in the hole. Both stood in solemn solidarity with the men below, and Violet felt her heart clench when Ethan, his golden hair a beacon amid darker ones, stopped to press his arm over his eyes.
He’s crying…
She came closer to the balustrade and fixed her eyes on him, seeing the grief marring his face but hoping it would not cripple him so he could honor his brother. He quickly pulled his arm away and began shoveling, but as soon as the grave was filled in, he turned away and disappeared in the forest line to the side.
Knowing the pain that came with losing a loved one, she ached to find and somehow comfort him, but she also knew from experience with her mother, this was the time when one had to be alone. Retreating to her seat, she folded her hands on her lap and gazed out into the direction he had gone.
Will ye let me help ye, Ethan?
The funeral cluster had begun to break apart, and the priest had stepped away from the grave. He went to speak with Laird MacFerson while Ethan was still away. A trill of bagpipes had her head swiveling over her shoulder, but she was not able to see the courtyard where the feast was going to happen.
“I’ll be in the courtyard asking questions,” her father announced. “Are ye coming, or staying in the main hall?”
“I…” she paused. “I’ll be along shortly, Faither, I just need a moment.” Her eyes were latched on the forest line where Ethan had disappeared, but still had not come out.
“I’ll be waiting,” he said.
The closing of the door behind him allowed all her attention to stray to Ethan. Was his grief that heavy that it took him away for so long? She stayed, watching, while her fingers twisted in her lap. The sun was dipping to the horizon and turning a deep ochre when Ethan finally stumbled out into the land below. He looked haggard as he walked in a direction that probably took him to the stables where they had left their horses the first day they had arrived.
Knowing the direction, Violet left the rooms and hurried towards the building. She got there in time to see him saddling a dark brown horse with a thick black mane. His shoulders were stiffer than warranted and his posture was ramrod straight.
He did not look inviting, but she tried anyway. “May I join ye?”
Ethan looked over his shoulder, and she held back her grimace at the pale red lingering in his eyes and the sight of tear marks on his flushed face.
“Are ye sure?” he asked, turning back to the horse, hiding his face from her. But his hollow tone told her what his eyes had hinted to—that he was still sunk in grief. “Wouldnae ye want to be at the feast with all the others?”
Edging closer to him she shook her head, “Nay, I’m nae hungry and I’d—” she dared herself, “— rather be with ye. I ken how it is, Ethan. How yer chest feels hollow, and that nothin’ can fill it back up.”
He paused then, his body seeming to fold in on itself. He slumped on the horse and his hand was white-knuckled as he gripped the saddle’s pommel. She rested a hand on his shoulder and felt his body trembling under it. She canted her head to the side and saw his face was in a rigor of pain, and silent tears were slipping down his cheeks.
Swallowing over her sadness for him, Violet felt her eyes bead as well. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I ken it hurts now, and it will hurt tomorrow and days to come but…” she soothed, “…the pain will dull one day and soon, ye’ll only look back and feel a fraction of it.”
He pressed his face on the leather saddle and his shoulders were shaking ever more, but he managed to mutter, “Feels like it will n-never end.”
“I ken,” she whispered.
With nothing more to offer, she could only stand by his side while he pulled himself together and wiped his eyes. He stared at the horse, not looking at her while asking, “Would ye still like to ride with me?” He finally turned to her and offered, “I can saddle one for ye.”
“I’d like that,” Violet smiled. “Thank ye.”
