Page 18 of Highlander’s Wrath

Awaking to War

The next morning, the rooster’s crow brought bad news with it.

Laird Barclay came to tell it to Coira directly. He kicked open the door to the nursery without ceremony while buttoning up his leather gloves, saying in a nonchalant way, “The Farquharson clan have moved their soldiers too far south. We’re to engage with them. Stay here inside the castle with Colban ‘til I tell ye to come out.”

Both Colban and Coira reacted to the news, but in very different ways.

The small boy stood up from his stool, shouting, “Huzzah! Bring home as many prisoners as ye can, Faither!”

After telling her unruly charge to settle down and eat his porridge, Coira frowned when she said, “It seems like a harsh reprisal for such a small motion. Is this how you always react to such insignificant enterprises?”

He returned her frown, measure for measure, saying sternly, “Step outside with me for a short while, please, Coira.”

She lifted up her chin at him for these masterful words, saying, “I do not know if I care to do so, Laird.”

He gritted his teeth but would not bow to her reluctance. “If ye would do me the honor of stepping outside into the corridor with me for a quick word, Miss McDonald, it would be most kind of ye.”

She had to obey him; if she did not, it might seem to Colban like a good idea to also thwart his father at the next opportunity he had to do so.

When he had closed the door on his son, Laird Barclay whispered furiously to Coira, “Don’ examine me decisions in front o’ me son, Coira! He must be trained to obey my commands without question. I’m his faither!”

She sniffed, still not prepared to forgive his bossiness. “I only sought to gain some more information about this counteraction you are planning. How long do you plan to be away? I wanted to take Colban for a walk on the beach this afternoon.”

He refused to be drawn in by her demands. “I’ll be away for as long as it takes! Please look after the boy for me—day and night—ye hear me? It’s at moments like this when the castle is most vulnerable. And I wouldnae put it past those mangy curs to send an incursion to try an’ break through the walls whilst I’m awa’.”

Coira lost her composure at these words. “What?! That’s terrible news! You must stay here and protect us yourself.”

He gave a humorless laugh. “Me guards are the best in the Highlands. No one will get past them. But obey me orders to stay inside. I will be greatly displeased if ye do otherwise. The troops and I will be just over the brow of the moradh. We should nae be gone too long.”

Coira bristled. “I will go anywhere and do anything I like! You might be able to order your servants and soldiers around, but you cannot order me!”

He gripped her forearm in a vicelike grasp, growling, “Highty tighty, lass! But if ye step one foot out of this castle without me permission, I will no’ be responsible for the consequences nor will I apologize for my actions if I seek afterward to punish ye for the deed. D’ye hear me?”

“Let go of me, you brute!” Coira hissed. Then, remembering that there was a small boy on the other side of the door, possibly throwing porridge onto the floor at this very moment, she shook her arm loose from his hand and went back inside the nursery, struggling not to slam the door with all her force behind her.

She walked to the window to soothe her ruffled sensibilities. Colban came to join her there, and together they watched Laird Barclay and his troop of mounted soldiers ride out of the courtyard together. When Coira turned away from the window, all her pleasure at having breakfast was gone. She had no appetite. Guilt consumed her.

What if Laird Barclay was to be slain at the battle, and she would never get to tell him she was sorry? What if he were captured and she never saw him again? How would she get through the day knowing he was on the other side of the moradh, maybe hurt, maybe dying?

It was intolerable!

Animated by her determination to go and assist her laird and master, Coira ran to her bedchamber; she knew she would find Miriam inside, busy with darning and tatting.

What is it about the man I find at once so powerfully attractive and yet somehow overwhelmingly infuriating at the same time? Yes, I have the training of his son, but he does not pay me for it. It in no way places me subordinate to his whims and desires, does it?

Coira could not deny that as annoying as she found Laird Barclay’s ability to set her hackles upright, his very presence had the unnerving knack to make her knees tremble too. He would be staring at her with his stormy expression one moment, and then the next, he would be laughing with happy abandon at something she said that he found amusing. The man was an enigma. Whenever she saw him approaching her, she did not know if it was to shout at her about some perceived minor infraction or whisper something caressing into her ear, guaranteed to make the hairs on her arms rise and tingle with the most delicious sensation.

She gave her head an annoyed shake before opening the door of her bedchamber. Coira had the suspicion that Miriam had joined the ranks of his lairdship’s servants, who enjoyed talking about her behind her back. The maidservant would shoot her mistress darkling looks whenever she caught Coira with a faraway look in her eyes, and Coira had no doubt that if the woman could write well enough, she would communicate her suspicions to Mister and Mistress McDonald down in London.

As she came in, she found her maid deep in conversation with Mistress Elliot, the housekeeper. From the way the two women looked up and fell silent when she walked in the door was all the proof Coira required to know she had been the subject of their discussion. Summoning all the charitable maxims her father had taught her, she remained unperturbed.

“Miriam, be so kind as to lay out my riding habit, if you please. Good morning, Mistress Elliot. I trust this cold weather is not cruel to your rheumatism?”

Mistress Elliot left the bedchamber with a curtsy after assuring Coira that her hands were bearing up well in the cold. When the housekeeper went down to the kitchen later, it was with the news that the master’s new governess was a lady of such kind humor and polite demeanor that her presence in the castle could only do them all good to follow in the example she set.

Fully dressed for the weather and wearing, besides her woolen riding habit and serviceable pair of short riding boots, a large plaid bonnet, a scarf, and a warm pair of gloves, Coira went down to the stables after ordering Miriam to stay by Colban’s side until her return.

Finding a groom, she asked him to saddle up the horse she had ridden out with his lairdship during their previous outing.