Page 49 of At the Highlander's Mercy
She shook her head and looked over at him. ‘Because a daughter is not a reason to go to war. Because one person in a battle is expendable,’ she offered. The haunted expression was back in her eyes when she faced him. ‘I know you expected him to answer your challenge, but it’s truly better if only Duncan and Rurik are here instead.’
Thinking back on the way Connor handled matters during Rob’s time at Lairig Dubh made him realise a pattern he’d not seen before or had forgotten since—Connor went only after other measures failed to resolve a conflict. When Connor went....
‘Because if theBeastcomes, you will die,’ she finished. ‘You will all die.’
Then they were in deeper trouble than he thought they could be! He’d demanded that Connor face him over this, thinking it would scare off the Mathesons from this foolhardy plan to ransom her, to smack at her father’s nose. Now he might have brought the destruction to them that he had wanted to avoid.
No matter his personal need to confront Connor over sins of the past and to discover the reason for his actions, bringing him here to Keppoch and facing him publicly was too dangerous to the rest of his kith and kin. The only thing he must accept was that any attempt to keepLilidh, to claim her as his heart and soul wanted him to do, would be as unacceptable to Connor now as it was four years ago.
There would be one way to know if Connor wished the past to remain buried—if he gave gold in return for Lilidh. If he took that easier path to resolution, it was a way to avoid everything else.
And if Connor offered him gold?
The only thing Rob could do was to take it and send her back. To admit that this time they’d shared was the extraordinary time it had been and to let her move on in her life, hopefully healed of some of the damage he’d done before.
Rob left the chambers then, heading for the elders and Symon. He must convince them to release Lilidh as soon as possible. His reckoning with Connor would have to wait for another time.
* * *
Tyra watched the rest of this first meeting from a hidden corner just out of view of the rest. When Symon exploded with his accusation that the MacLerie was marginalising both the Mathesons and their demands, she’d nearly lost control and laughed aloud. Then the look on Rob’s face when Symon revealed that a deal had been struck with the MacKenzies without his knowledge was more satisfying than she had ever imagined it would be.
It had been favours and gold well spent to set that part up. Luckily she’d found Brother Donal to be more a man of worldly concerns than godly ones and the deal to forge certain documents had been struck. His returnto the abbey at Angus’s untimely death had ensured that only his confessor, and that under the holy seal, would ever hear any claims he made.
And the gold spent encouraging one or two of the
elders to continue their enthusiastic support of Symon and his opinions was also done well. None of them would open their mouths or risk exposure as traitors and being named outlaw.
Symon had come to her before this meeting and told her that Rob suspected him of ordering the attack. She hoped she’d kept a concerned expression in her eyes as her brother demonstrated to her once again what kind of fool he was!
So, she’d stoked his anger at being left out of decisions and at Rob’s suspicions until Symon was ready to explode. Then she’d watched as he had—revealing more to the MacLeries than Rob knew.
Leaning back against the wall, she waited for the
MacLeries to leave the keep before seeking her chambers. Though Rob had dismissed her, Symon would come and apprise her of anything said or ordered. And, in turn, she would push and prod Symon to make certain the hostilities between him and Rob continued.
Tyra made her way back to her chambers and found the small casket in which she kept trinkets and keepsakes hidden. The letter lay on top and she opened the parchment and read it once more. Gavin swore his undying love for her and urged her to remain in her faith of him.
Certainly she knew of his proclivity to sleep with the servants—her spy there revealed that to her—but thatdid not lessen their love. It was only until she took her place as his wife and then she would see to that much as she had been seeing to things here.
Chapter Twenty
Rob strode into the large chamber that he used as a solar and found them waiting for him. Along with the elders, Symon and Dougal sat stone-faced and silent. Brother Finlay entered just behind him, carrying his usual leather satchel with documents, quills, ink and a sharp knife with which to scrape off old used parchments for reuse. A guard closed the door and Rob looked at each man there.
‘Symon mentioned an agreement with the MacKenzies. I know of no such thing,’ he began. ‘How is that?’ Then he crossed his arms and waited for someone to answer his question.
He knew he was being manoeuvred and manipulated, but he did not think Symon intelligent enough to do that. His outburst was a perfect example of how he acted—too fast, too loud and too much. Subtlety was lost on him. Looking around at the others, he tried to decide who could be the one.
‘My lord,’ Brother Finlay began, ‘I found this in your father’s papers. Since you were...ahem...involved insome matter, I showed it to Lord Symon.’ Involved in the carnal knowledge of a certain lady was what Brother Finlay did not say, but they understood what had caught Rob’s attention lately.
If he trusted Symon as a chief should trust his tanist, Rob might have felt differently about that. But Symon’s interference and attempts to push him in only one direction broke what trust they might have had at one time.
Rob took the parchment and walked away from the table, reading it. Although it was not a formal treaty, this did make a preliminary proposal and an agreement to proceed with one. It was written by his father’s clerk and signed by the laird himself and the marks matched the others of his father’s that he’d seen. ‘Why was this not among my father’s other documents? Among the ones I have in my possession.’
‘I know not, my lord,’ the cleric answered with a shrug. ‘I found it in one of the trunks that Brother Donal left when he returned to the abbey. I assumed you knew of it, but with all this talk about treaties and war with the MacLeries, I thought it best to bring it to your attention.’
‘And when did you bring this to the tanist?’ he asked. Symon began to speak, but Rob waved him off.
‘Only yesterday, my lord.’ Brother Finlay, a large man, wiped at his sweating brow with the sleeve of his brown robe. ‘As I said, all this talk...’
