Chapter 24

The rain continued well into the night. Cold, tired, and soggy, I retired to my rooms after sharing a cheery dinner with Alex in the study. I was still fantasizing about the buttery vegetables and tender roast when I opened my door and found Wallis inside, spinning in circles on the rug in front of the fire. Bess sat in a nearby chair, watching through half-lidded eyes as her daughter sang nursery songs in a sweet, high voice.

"Layliiiin!" Wallis trilled, doing her best to say my name as she rushed forward and plowed headfirst into my skirts.

"Hi, baby Wally," I cooed back, running my fingers through her hair.

"I wouldn't have intruded, but Wallis wanted to see you," Bess said.

Waving off her concerns, I said, "What's mine is yours, Bess. I'm rarely in my rooms but to sleep, anyway."

I walked toward one of the reclining chairs around the fire. Wallis came along for the ride, her arms tight around my legs and her feet stacked on top of mine. When I sat, Walls threw herself half onto the seat, kicking against me until I pulled her up onto my lap. There, she nestled into my side and pulled the ribbon from my braid. Tugging on my hair, she continued singing her song, repeating the same phrase.

"She only knows the one line," Bess explained with a tired laugh.

"Did you have a good dinner?" I asked Wallis.

"Ham and carrot!" She said with a wide, manic smile.

"What else?"

Wallis thought for a moment, scrunching her face up comically. "Crunch crunch!"

I looked to Bess for translation.

"Cook made water biscuits."

"Ah, how special."

Wallis laughed and crawled onto my lap, snuggling into the crook of my arm. I contented myself with watching her as she pulled apart my curls and braid. Squeezing her, I bent down and kissed her impossibly smooth brow a few dozen times. That caused her to laugh and nuzzle closer, curling into me. I held her like the baby she no longer was, enjoying the heat of her body against my torso; the surprising weight of her head on my arm.

Bess looked on, a contented smile on her face.

"You're getting so big!" I said, studying my niece. Watching her grow was more agonizing than I had ever imagined; but special, too. It was fascinating to watch as she learned new words and skills.

"She'll be a right terror, just like her da," Bess said, nodding. "But I think Ellesmure would do well with a few more wild girls, don't you?"

I agreed. "We should bring her up with a better chance than I had. She'll get proper schooling, and for anything she's interested in, we'll make sure she has instructors."

"Don't promise too much, or she'll start following you around like a shadow. All day long she wants to know 'where Leylin went?'"

Laughing, I hugged the girl tight. "Good," I said, meaning it with my full heart. "I wish I had possessed half a mind to follow my brothers around. Maybe things wouldn't have been such a mess."

"It wasn't so bad," Bess started, biting the inside of her cheek.

I looked at her dipping my chin, "We were doomed, don't pretend otherwise."

"You're right, but we are not doomed anymore. There's no use continuing to beat yourself up for it. Who could have predicted any of this happening?"

"My father for one," I grunted. "My mother, second."

Bess shook her head, laughing to herself. "Fine. Stay grumpy forever if that's what you want."

"That's not — "

"Isn't it?" She challenged me, eyes bright.

When I didn't answer, Bess chuckled. "We have the Northern men, and Alex's men now. The time for could-haves and would-haves is over, Eilean."

I distracted myself by bopping Wallis on the nose and making her laugh. Anything to face the truth in Bess' claim. I had been nursing a bitter hurt — and for a long time. Perhaps it was time to let it go. To look toward the future and embrace life as I built it.

"A selfish part of me just wants an apology," I said eventually. The admission hung in the air like a cobweb, fragile and unexpected.

Bess nodded, looking at me with sympathy. She reached across the small sitting area and placed her hand on my knee. "You're not likely to get one. Can you live with that? Have a good life in spite of it? Or will your need to place blame prevent you from seeing what you have?"

"What about when they come home?" I hedged, calling in the specter of my would-be family. Their faces haunted the hallways from old portraits, but they had become like ghosts. Where they were, what they were up to, when they might return were all unanswered mysteries.

"Figure that out later. You don't know when they will return and what circumstances you'll be in, then. You'll wear yourself out constantly trying to predict the future." Bess cocked her head and grinned, "Unless you have magical powers, of course."

I laughed, "No, not yet." I wiggled my fingers toward her as if sparks might fly from them.

Bess shifted in her chair, settling in. She pulled back her hand from my knee. "I'm glad Lord Leslie came home, you smile more."

Home. The word felt odd hearing it out loud, but hadn't I used the same in my plea for him to return?

Bess picked up some knitting from a basket on the floor and started working, humming as she slipped the needles through the yarn. Soon, she started singing. Her voice was perfect, her tone clear. Rather than dominate the space, she enhanced it. Bess' songs worked like a tonic on Wallis, who was soon asleep; a heavy unmoving weight in my arms.

In fascination, I stared at her pink cheeks and rosy lips. Awed that she was so beautiful, so special. Aside from her wild, black hair, she looked like Bess. She had the same delicate nose, the same bright eyes. I hoped, as she grew, something of Walther would come out in her looks. There were suggestions of Walther in her long, tapered fingers. And she loved fairy stories. She constantly asked for us to read from the same large collection Walther had once read from after dinners. Even stranger were moments when I would see my father's glower or my mother's pout in Wallis' expression. A shift of her eyes and I'd see John glaring at me. She was brash and excitable like Rupert.

Unfamiliar grief overtook me. I was unaccustomed to missing my family, longing for them. But I felt that sadness now. It replaced the more familiar rage I associated with their memory. I let myself sit in the feeling for a moment and considered Bess' words. Could I build a life instead of stewing in the past? My family may never seek my forgiveness, but I needn't consider myself less-than anymore. I didn't have to hold myself to the judgment of ghosts.

Bess and Wallis could be my family. So could Alex. Calum and Angus, too. If they wanted. I could build a home, a family. Change the world. Whatever I wanted to call it. It seemed I possessed some of Alex's and Calum's idealism after all.

A lightness buoyed my spirits, and I smiled. I kissed Wallis on her brow. She still smelled so unworldly, so like a baby even as she was nearing two years. Soon she wouldn't have time for my cuddles. The thought broke my heart, but she would be my family, and she would know it.

Between Bess' songs, Wallis' warmth, and my newfound contentment, I slipped into a snooze.

I jerked awake when a knock came from the other side of the door.

"Come in," I grumbled, rubbing my hands across my face.

Alex strode in with purposeful eagerness. He looked right at me, his mouth pouty and tempting. There was a hunger in his eyes that turned my insides into liquid.

"Eilean," he sighed, the sound of my name on his lips going right through me.

Holding his consuming stare, I trembled. I knew, then and there, that our conversation this morning had been some kind of test. Some wall he was building up the courage to scale. And in a muddy field on horseback, he had acquired the daring he needed to enter my bed chamber once again. His passion and intent were plain enough to see.

"I suppose I should I go," Bess crooned, rolling her needles into her knitting and ducking her head to hide her smirk.

"What?" Alex looked down, noticing her. The heat behind his eyes skittered away as if someone blew out a candle. He blushed hotly. "Oh," He looked back at me, bewildered. His jaw slack as he tried to find his next words. "No, no, I didn't know you had company. Please, don't, I am interrupting."

I snickered, hiding my smile behind my hand.

Alex bowed to my sister-in-law with plucky formality, "Bess, right? Or do you prefer Elizabeth?"

"Bess," She answered with a knowing smile. She flicked her eyes between Alex and me. "You were at the wedding?"

"Yes, I was. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life." Alex's gaze drifted toward mine as if distracted by the memory. His eyes unfocused for a moment and then he blinked, shaking his head. "And who is this?" He asked with a start as he noticed Wallis in my arms.

"Bess and Walther's daughter," I said, my voice low to keep from waking the child. "Have you two not met?"

"You and Alex have eaten every single meal alone in that study since his arrival," Bess said, eyes flashing.

My jaw dropped, "That cannot be true."

"Oh, it is," Bess said smugly, her voice rippling with laughter.

I grimaced at Alex, at the impropriety, but still said, "Be quiet and don't wake her, Alex, but allow me to introduce Wallis MacLeod."

Alex grinned and walked from the entryway over to where we sat. He knelt before my seat, reaching out to hold Wallis' tiny hand in his own. His thumb traced over the back of her knuckles.

"She's perfect," he exhaled. "The last time I was here, there was only one Miss MacLeod. Now there are two. I think you'll do the family proud."

Touched by his sentiment and gentleness, I found myself choked up.

"I was sorry to hear about Walther," Alex said, turning to Bess.

Bess' face blanched, and she offered him a tight smile, "Thank you."

Genuine pain darkened Alex's features. His eyes drooped and his mouth pressed into a frown. Without looking, he reached up and covered my hand with his own.

Bess sniffled, her violet-blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Clearing her throat, she attempted to collect herself. She stood, holding out her arms for her daughter. "It's probably best I take her to bed."

Standing, I passed over the babe and ushered Bess to the door. With a kiss on the cheek, I bid her good night.

When the door closed, Alex spoke hastily, as if absolving himself from grave sin, "I hope I didn't ruin your evening. I did not know Bess was here, and then, to bring up Walther — "

"It's fine, I think," I said, sitting back down on the couch. Bess and I had never talked about Walther's loss, what she might feel about it. I had never been sure of the best way to broach the subject.

Alex was still squatting in front of the chair I had vacated. I patted the cushion beside me and bade him sit. "What are you here for?"

The question was useless. It had been obvious enough to rush Bess from the room lest she was in the way, as she had whispered when she walked out. Huffing out an awkward laugh, Alex nudged me with his shoulder, I reclined against him, comfortably content.

"Well — "

There came another knock at the door.

I looked at Alex with wide-eyes, "I've never been more popular. Come in!"

One of Angus' messengers came in, curtsied, and placed an envelope in my hands. She offered me a sweet "good night" before leaving.

The letter was from Calum, dated almost a month ago:

Lairdess Eilean —

We will work on your title, I don't know that I like 'lairdess'. It seems silly, and I doubt you've ever been silly in your life.

"Little does he know," Alex grumbled, reading over my shoulder.

Imagine my surprise when I arrived at The Fist and found that its young lord had long departed — to what purpose no one could tell me. "To help victims of this war" was the best answer I could get. (Though, I suspect I now know the correct answer to your brother Ian's riddle. Bravo, my lady.)

I travel next to the front to see if I can disengage my men from the conflict. Regardless of my success or failure in that regard, I plan to be at Stormway by mid-March at the latest. I will do my best to bring news of your family. There are rumors of a tremendous battle unfolding near the capital, but I know scant details.

Yours,

High Lord of the Mountain Vistas, Calum McKerran

I snorted at the letter and its teasing tone. Alex, scanning the missive, asked "What riddle?"

"Uh," I groaned, trying to think of an answer that didn't admit too much. Unable to spin the answer, I told the truth. "Calum met with Ian before leaving the war and asked for a security question so that I might admit him to Stormway. 'What is The Fist's weakness' or something? Ian told him cinnamon buns." I bit my lip, pointedly looking away from Alex.

"I see." He drawled.

"It was nonsense, really," I said, folding the letter. I yawned.

Alex shifted, jostling me where I leaned against him. He looped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me against his chest.

"I should go," He said, but he made no effort to move.

"You came here to ask something?" I said, in no hurry to see him off, either.

"I wanted to talk about the Standing."

I turned, looking up at Alex cautiously, "Why?"

There were a million different reasons to talk about the Standing in general. But after today's horseback conversation, after Alex had barreled into my room with his eyes full of fire, I wanted to know what specifically he had in mind.

"It's late, it doesn't matter now."

The clock chimed midnight. My shoulders slumped in exhaustion.

"If you say so," I said through another yawn, warm and comfortable in his arms.

"It can wait," he promised.

There seemed to be nothing further demanded in the moment. I enjoyed it, the quiet contentment. The crackle of the fire and the comfort of a friend where before there had only been lonely darkness.