Page 67 of Desire of a Highlander

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When they reached the village, the familiar sights struck Ronan harder than usual. Someone was singing while splitting firewood. A group of women were gossiping as they hung out washing.

His gut clenched. How many frightened strangers had become friends? This place had become more than a refuge. It had become home.

And now he was asking everyone to leave it behind.

“There ye are!”

Faye was hurrying towards them down the street, her gaze flicking between the two of them. She glanced at their clasped hands and smiled in understanding. “Well, it’s about bloody time!”

Ronan felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth but didn’t address her comment. Instead, he said, “Ye were right, old friend. It’s time.”

Her expression shifted as his words sunk in. “Wait. Do ye mean—?”

“Aye. Call everyone together. The whole Steading needs to hear this.”

Faye hesitated only a moment, glancing between him and Elodie and back again, then hurried off and bellowed at the top of her voice, calling everyone to a meeting.

In response doors opened. People emerged. Children came running. A low murmur spread through the streets as people discussed amongst themselves what this might be about. Within minutes nearly everyone had gathered in the open space before the smithy. Children sat cross-legged near the front. Older folk leaned on walking sticks. The newest arrivals stood beside those who had lived here for years.

As Ronan and Elodie arrived, everyone turned towards him, their expressions expectant. He swallowed. God help him. He had never wanted this. How was he supposed to tell them he wanted them to abandon the only place that had ever offered them refuge?

Elodie gave him the smallest nod. You can do this, that looked seemed to say. He only wished he shared her conviction.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward. “I’ve got something important to say and no easy way to say it,” he announced. Everyone fell silent, all eyes turned towards him. “I know that the Steading has protected us so far. But no longer. The men who attacked David, the folk who tried to infiltrate us at the waymeet, the bandits who jumped Thomas in the woods. These aren’t random encounters. They are organized and they are looking for one thing: us. Those people are led by a Lord and Lady Murdoch. If they find us, they will claim the Steading as their own and, I suspect, put all of us to work on their land, paying their taxes, giving half of what we grow to them.”

“Then we’ll fight!” Eamon cried to murmurs of agreement from some of the younger members of the Steading. “Isnae that what we’ve been training for?”

Ronan shook his head. “We’ve been training to keep a few bandits from finding out where we are. We’ve not been training to keep out a trained militia. This place was meant to be a refuge, a place where we were safe. It isnae that anymore. I’ll not gamble with yer lives.”

Silence settled.

It was Eamon who spoke first. “Then what do we do?”

Ronan drew a breath. “We leave.”

The words landed like a stone thrown into a still pond. Shock rippled through the gathering, incredulous murmuring breaking out like the sound of susurrating leaves.

“Leave?”

“This is our home.”

“Where would we go?”

“We don’t have anywhere else!”

Ronan raised a hand for silence. “There is somewhere we can go.” The noise died away and all eyes fixed on him again. He swallowed. “Like everyone here, I have a past that I’ve not shared with most of ye. Now I realize it’s time I did.” He glanced at Faye, the only one who’d known the truth down these long years. The healer was watching him intently. She gave him the slightest of nods.

“I am not simply a blacksmith. My father was the Earl of Newborough.” A collective intake of breath swept the crowd and Ronan rushed on before he could lose his nerve. “My elder brother Bryce inherited the title but part of my family’s lands came to me. I abandoned them many years ago.”

He looked at the faces before him. “But my lands are still there. They’re fertile. Sparsely settled. And far from the troubles.”

The noise rose again as everyone started muttering. Yet it had a different quality to it this time. It sounded more like hope. An older woman who Ronan recognized as Elspeth, one of the refugees Elodie had found, screwed up her face in a frown.

“If these lands of yers are so wonderful,” she called. “How come ye walked away from them?”

“Hush, mother!” said a younger woman standing next to her. “There’s no need to be rude!”