Chapter 26

Over the next few weeks, I woke excited and energized. Newfound anticipation and zest for each day took root in my heart. It was a foreign feeling, but a welcome one. As the sun poked its head over the horizon, I catapulted out of bed. With little to do until the castle woke up, I took up the circuit I used to run with my brothers. A mad dash to the stables, followed by a hard ride. Return, bathe, and spend more time than I will admit deciding what to wear — my new gowns bright and crisp in my wardrobe. It was a luxury to choose between them. I had relegated my tattered and worn dresses to the rag bag, even that use far more generous than they deserved.

The late spring days were long and wistful, and golden sunshine never seemed to cease. The castle was rowdy and festive, infused with life from the visiting men. Though they were strangers, their presence felt recognizable, as if my brother's had returned. The castle, at last, felt like it was alive.

On a bright morning full of birdsong and the intoxicating scent of tulips, I sat at my mirror and brushed my unruly curls into a twist on top of my head. I added a bright yellow ribbon for extra exuberance. That small adornment made me feel bewitching. Caught up in the moment, I pinched my cheeks and even applied a dot of perfume under each ear. The long-forgotten bottles had sat unused on my vanity collecting dust. I wiped them down with a rag, enjoying the way the glass sparkled in the sunlight.

At the clock's chiming of eight o'clock, there came a knock at my door in a familiar pattern. Alex.

"Come in," I shouted, giving myself a once-over in the mirror, enjoying the picture.

I watched through the mirror as Alex pushed through the door, a gleaming silver coffee pot in one hand.

"My, my, aren't we fancy today?" Alex teased, a lopsided grin on his face.

"What are you doing with that coffee pot?" I asked, turning to face him.

He shrugged. "I thought we could have breakfast together. Skip all the commotion in the dining hall." Red stained his cheeks.

"Sure," I said deliberately, trying to understand this change in routine.

"I like the ribbon," Alex said, settling down on a couch before the fire. He placed the coffee pot on a low table.

As I stood up and walked toward him, Alex sniffed the air, "Perfume too? Whatever is the occasion?"

"Comment on my appearance and smell all you want when you've produced breakfast. Coffee served without cups or food is barely worth tolerating you for." I settled down on the couch beside him.

Alex laughed. "Breakfast is imminent. I know the demands to which I must perform." He winked. "When the food arrives, and I am in your good graces again, remind me to tell you you look very lovely. You are beautiful."

"What's on your list for today?" I said, trying to sidestep the compliment, to say anything that would make me feel normal, that would settle the racing of my heart.

"Fertilizing," Alex said with dread.

"Oh," I chuckled, "So you'll be the good smelling one come dinner time."

"Don't act so high and mighty." He teased, then became serious, his face slack. Alex lowered his voice, "Angus just rode in from the Westmarch Village. There has been an outbreak of white fever. I'm afraid you'll have to deliver medicine and supplies. Set up the sweating tents and ensure a quarantine."

I understood, now, why Alex had not yet called for the food. White fever was a nasty illness, a rash of pus-filled welts that covered the arms and torso. The mere mention of the sickness was enough to turn even the hardest person's stomach. The most effective cure was to sit in enclosed tents where large fires burned camphor and witch hazel. Buckets of hot water were thrown onto coals to create steam that would sweat out the illness. To say I would smell medicinal by the end of the day was an understatement.

"How many cases?" I asked grimly.

"Only five, for now." Alex looked at me, a tight frown pulling his lips taught. "Be careful, Eilean."

I nodded, eager to put him at ease. "Of course. Anything else?"

"There are a few calves we think will be born today. That should be thrilling! And I need Cook to tell me what herbs she needs seeds for. Can you get Bess to copy them down when you see her? I don't think Cook will stop moving long enough to find a pen."

I smiled, enjoying the pride and ownership Alex took in Stormway's activities. "Yes, of course."

There was a knock from the door that signaled our breakfast; an overflowing tray of eggs, ham, bread, butter, and cheese. A pot of tea emitted a fragrant, curling tendril of steam. As it always did, the sudden appearance of an abundance of food made me equally ravenous and humble. After the maid placed the tray and left the room, I started filling my plate.

"I won't fit into my new gowns if you keep feeding us like this, Alex," I said, laughing as I stacked ham and eggs onto a thick slice of toast saturated in butter.

Alex grunted, already gnawing on a ham steak. "You can make new dresses, but I can never allow you to waste away again."

"What an excellent partnership," I cooed, pouring myself coffee.

Alex tilted his head and watched me candidly. His eyes roamed from my head to my chest, over my waist; traced the arc of my arm slung over the chair back, across the expanse of my shoulders.

"You are looking much better, you know." He observed.

"So you said earlier," I dared flirt, lifting my hand and referencing the ribbon in my hair.

Alex laughed, shaking his head. "No, well yes, but no. More healthy, I mean. To see you so frail —" He cleared his throat, unable to finish.

Smiling, rubbing my belly luxuriously, anything to make him laugh, I said, "We are all in your debt."

Alex's cheeks colored. He ducked his head, looking bashful. "I wish you had written me earlier. Written the truth, I mean."

I sighed and bit the inside of my cheek, "So do I. It was hard... I didn't know if you could even help. If it would be fair to ask such a thing from you..." my words puttered out into nothing.

"Eilean, you're my oldest and most dear friend," he said, shaking his head. When he stilled, the air seemed to halt with him. He leaned forward, our eyes locked. The song of the birds and the crackle of the fire faded to nothing.

"Oh, sure, I know that now," I said breathless, trying to settle myself under the strength of that stare. It was useless when he looked at me like that. When his eyes burned with that unusual sincerity and his lips parted just so.

It was hard to do anything but succumb to that gaze, that look, that resolve. My hands trembled as I took a sip of coffee — buying myself time. Swimming in the moment until it ran dry.

"Sometimes," I said, my voice gruff, "the darkest holes are the scariest ones to reach out from. I couldn't bear the thought that I might pull you deep down into my suffering."

My words felt like a confession, a long-hidden secret. True, I had hidden our hardships because of pride, but also to protect Alex from whatever misfortune I bore the curse of.

Alex reached over and intertwined his fingers with my own. Tenderly, he rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand. His expression was an open display of various emotions. The low brows of sympathy, the bright delight of joy, the bitten lip of longing.

I scooted up toward the edge of the couch, pulling closer to him. Alex leaned forward. And I thought, the vision spiking through me like the fizz of bubbly wine, that he might kiss me. I wished he would kiss me. My pulse hammered in my throat, waiting. But he did not. With a squeeze of my hand, he dropped his hold and turned back to his food.

"So," I said through a ragged breath, "Why the private breakfast?"

"I thought it might be... quieter," he said diplomatically, stabbing eggs onto his fork.

I bit back a laugh, his reason telling me enough. While Alex enjoyed Calum's company, he found him rather demanding. He had several words he liked to use regarding the man: wearying, tiring, exhausting, vexing, irksome, pesky... the list went on. I knew the two men liked each other, and well, but Alex was the deliberate and measured mirror to Calum's blustering enthusiasm. Alex found him somewhat bewildering.

"Do you dislike Calum and his men because they are Islanders?" I asked, wondering if that was more to the point of my friend's discontent. I didn't have reason to believe Alex prejudiced, but family ties and loyalty to country could be touchy. I knew that.

Alex shook his head, frowning, "I don't dislike either Laird Grant or his men. If I appear bothered by them, it is because they are your men more than my own. Islanders through and through. No one is treating my men poorly, but this is not their land. And, I guess, because Calum and his fellows fought. Rose to the occasion their country demanded of them."

"But Calum disagrees with the war."

"I know." Alex swore, his entire body tense, "This war is a nightmare, a fool's errand. But I wonder... am I less of a Lord... am I a traitor, for staying out of it?"

I considered his words. Felt them hit home in my chest, fitting into jagged holes that were tender and confused. I had also felt the need to prove myself. To the people of Stormway, of Ellesmure. To myself.

"If you think entering the conflict is the right thing to do..." I started, not sure how to make my point. Furrowing my brow, I tried again. "I look at it in terms of impact. You've done more good by coming here, helping Ellesmure survive, opening your lands to those in need of shelter and safety... I can't think of anything nobler than preserving life. You might win glory on a battlefield, but at what cost? To others, to your soul?"

My words were meandering and inarticulate. Alex only chewed on a heel of bread, watching me shrewdly.

"I told Ian before he left he wasn't a fighter. I don't think any of my brothers were. Or my father. Perhaps fighter was the wrong word. I don't think they were killers." I looked down, swiping a few crumbs off my skirt. "But they are now. Who knows what stain that leaves on a person? What they will be like when they come home."

Blinking back tears, I looked up. Met the clear, steady-sea eyes of my friend, my anchor. "You're not a killer, Alex. I'm glad you're not. But you are a fighter. You fight for your people, my people. For a better world for all of them. For me." I whispered the last two words, letting them float between us. Flotsam in the sunlight, lingering among the dust motes.

Alex nodded once and turned. He stared into the fire, a scowl contorted his brow.

I let him stew, content to eat, and give him the space he needed. I finished my breakfast and a second cup of coffee in silence. Then, remembering my comment on dark holes and the challenge of asking for help, reached out my hand into his abyss.

"Alex, are you all right?" I asked lightly.

He turned, eyes lined with unshed tears. "Thank you," he rasped.

This time I leaned forward, I grabbed his hand.

"You are a wonderful person. Come to me any time you need a reminder," I said with a smile.

"How's the bookkeeping," he asked unexpectedly, his voice thick.

I allowed the change of topic, knowing it was better to move on — for now.

"I should finish organizing the study this week. I admittedly forgot to finish the task after Calum arrived and interrupted our progress."

"Do you want help?"

"Help? No, I won't subject you to that torture again. Companionship, however, if you are free to provide it, is always welcome."

Alex laughed, the sound bouncing through the room and bringing back the light and harmony with it. He attacked his breakfast with vigor, finishing it up. "I know you, you'll end up putting me to work anyway, regardless of whatever pretty promises you spin now."

Beaming, delighted by the return of his easy teasing, I said, "I am only near perfect, Alex. Not actually perfect."

He rolled his eyes but promised to look for me later this afternoon in the study if I was back from the village by then. "You should leave after we finish eating."

"Did you order the gig and horses for my trip already?"

"Of course, almost-perfect Laird MacLeod." Alex checked his pocket watch and nodded. He poured and drained a cup of tea. "Take a shawl with you, a heavy one. There is a lot of sunshine, but the wind is brutal and cold."

I knew that from my morning ride but said nothing. Instead, I clucked my tongue and muttered about mother hens. "Make sure you bundle up while fertilizing, then. I can only play nursemaid to so many people in one day. I don't think you'd appreciate my tending to you if you caught a chill."

Alex's eyes twinkled, and he smiled slowly, looking like he was more than up for the challenge.

The sight of that open encouragement set my blood on fire. It was enough for me to provoke him further, "Oh, and if you want your men to become my men, then you're more than welcome to get on your knees and pledge fealty to me too, Alex."

He scoffed a laugh. The sound broke over my skin with goosebumps.

"We'll see." Was his mocking reply.

The air in my room became strained and dense. Something shifted in the light, glittered around the periphery.

"Well, I should be off," I said, standing up.

"And I to the fields," Alex said. With enthralling possession of my space, he walked toward my bed where I had tossed a heavy, green shawl. He shook it out and placed it around my shoulders.

I almost fainted as his fingers brushed against my arms, running from shoulder to wrist with a feather-light touch.

"See you at dinner?" I croaked.

"Save me a seat," he said, his voice low and his body so very, very close.

The morning light did marvelous things to his eyelashes, gilding them like gold. It made his skin luminous. My eyes dipped to his lips and Alex's answering laugh was a low rumble against my abdomen.

He kissed me, then. The shock and delight of it radiating throughout my body from my lips to my toes. I held his face in my hands, felt the heated grip of his touch around my waist. It was like a memory, sweet and cozy and full of wonder. I didn't want sweet and cozy. I pushed against him, pulled him into me, a dance of my own desire. Just as I opened my mouth to flick my tongue against his, to walk through the door that had opened between us weeks ago in a soggy bog, Alex stepped back.

"I don't think I'll get on my knees just yet," he said with a wink. His words were a silken promise.

He kissed the tip of my nose and turned on his heel. "Off to work!" He called over his shoulder. His jaunty wave fluttered in the air.

Gasping, I stood stunned as he retreated.