Return Of The Highlanders: The Guardian Part 6

"Some of the men came to ask your da's advice regarding the selection of a new chieftain," his mother said. "He urged them to wait for Connor's return-and Hugh Dubh has been punis.h.i.+ng us ever since."

"When Hugh threatened everyone who worked here," Sileas said, "we told them to leave."

"Go along now and talk with Ian," his mother said, taking the bowls from Sileas. "I'll clean up."

As Ian got to his feet, Niall came in through the door. Instead of giving him the sharp edge of her tongue for missing dinner, Sileas's expression softened when she saw him.

"Niall, can ye join Ian and me?"

Now, why would she be asking Niall to join them?

"Whatever ye need, I'm there," Niall said, smiling at her as he hung his cap by the door.

"I appreciate it." Sileas's voice wavered a bit, as if Niall had done something special that touched her-when all she showed Ian was irritation.

As he followed Sileas up the stairs, the smell of heather filled his nose. He couldn't help taking in her slim ankles and the sway of her skirts as she climbed the steep steps. Lifting his gaze, he imagined her smooth, rounded bottom beneath the skirts.

She led them into the room that had been his bedchamber growing up. It looked different now, with pretty stones lining the windowsill and dried flowers in a jug on the table. His stomach tightened with the memory of the last time he was in this room-their "wedding" night, when he had spent a long, restless night on the hard floor.

He glanced at his old bed-the bed she slept in now. If he chose, he could sleep here with her every night. He was hard just thinking about it. If he stayed with her, he would build a new bed for them suitable for Knock Castle, with posts and heavy curtains like he had seen in France.

After taking a chair at the table, she gestured for him and Niall to do the same. Niall sat opposite her, as if by habit, leaving Ian to pull up a stool between them, facing the wall.

"I don't know if ye realize how verra badly injured your da was when we first got him back." Sileas spoke in a soft voice and fixed her gaze on the table.

"Da didn't wake for a fortnight," Niall put in. " 'Twas a miracle he lived."

His father wished to G.o.d he hadn't, crippled as he was. In his place, Ian would feel the same.

"Since ye were not here, Niall and I have been making the decisions that needed to be made these last few weeks," Sileas said, her tone becoming clipped again. "I hope you'll be satisfied with what we've done."

"What sort of decisions?" Ian asked.

Sileas stood to take down a sheaf of papers from the shelf above the table. "How many cattle to slaughter for the winter, which sheep to sell or trade, that sort of thing."

What could be more tedious?

Sileas sat down and pushed the stack of papers across the table to him. "Now that you are here, these are your decisions to make." She paused, then added, "At least until your da is well."

Ian glanced down. There were figures all down the first page. "What do ye expect me to do with these?"

"Sileas will have to explain it to ye," Niall said, grinning at her. "She's been helping da manage our lands and tenants for years. Ye should hear him, always bragging about how clever she is."

His father? Letting a la.s.s help him and boasting about it? Ian didn't want to accuse his brother of lying, but, truly, this was hard to fathom.

Ian watched Sileas as she spoke about cattle and crops, listening more to the sound of her voice than her words. He did notice how she repeatedly brought Niall into her recitation. What impressed him as much as her enthusiasm for the tedious details was how she recognized his brother's need to be relied upon as a man.

His father certainly showed no concern for Niall's pride. Remembering his father's harshness toward Niall, Ian felt a rush of warmth toward Sileas for her kindness to his brother. He would have to ask her why his da was so angry with Niall.

With his mind on Niall and his father, he didn't realize she was finished going over the accounts until she was on her feet.

"I must go now," she said, smoothing her skirts, "or the clothes will never be washed and you'll have no supper."

Without thinking, Ian said, "Isn't running the household my mother's responsibility?" This brought a second question to mind that had been nagging him. Gesturing to the sheaf of papers before him, he said, "Why was she not the one to make these decisions in da's place?"

"Do ye think I took it from her?" Sileas asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is that what ye think?"

The hurt in Sileas's eyes cut him to the quick.

"I did not mean-," he started to say, but she cut him off.

"It doesn't matter," she said, though clearly it did. "You'll be taking over the task now, so I'll leave ye to it."

"Wait," Ian said, catching her arm. "You've done a fine job with it, and I'd be happy to have ye continue."

" 'Tis no my place to do it now," she said in a tight voice.

Ach, he felt lower than dirt. But before he could get out a word of apology, she was out the door. No sooner was she gone, than his brother slammed his fist on the table.

"Ye have no notion what it's been like here, while you've been off having your adventures," Niall said.

Ian met his brother's angry gaze. "Then you'll have to tell me."

"Da was barely alive when I got him home." Niall worked his jaw as he leaned forward and stared at his hands. "I don't know what we would have done without Sileas. She was the one who washed his wounds every day and put on the salve she got from Tearlag."

Grief and guilt curled together in Ian's gut. He would never know if he could have saved his father from injury had he been at his side in the battle. But he was as good as any man with a sword, so he might have made a difference.

"During the time da did not waken," Niall said, "Sileas spent hours at his bedside, talking and reading to him as if he could hear every word."

It struck Ian as odd that Niall spoke only of Sileas taking care of their father. "What about mam?"

"Mam stopped speaking when she thought da was dying. She was like the walking dead herself." Niall kept his eyes fixed on his hands and spoke in a low, rough voice. "Sil and I did our best to make her eat, but she grew so weak we feared we would lose her, too."

Guilt was bitter in Ian's throat. Niall was far too young for the burden he'd been carrying-and it was Ian's burden.

"Mam's been much better since da woke up a couple of weeks ago. But da..." Niall turned to gaze out the small window. "Well, it's been almost worse since he awoke and found his leg was gone."

Ian leaned across the table and squeezed his brother's shoulder. "I'm sorry I wasn't here. We came as soon as we heard the news of the battle."

"Ye should have been here long before then," Niall said, his voice hard. "For Sileas, ye should have been here. You've shamed her by leaving her for so long."

Ian had never considered that his absence might shame her. Until he returned, he had thought of her as an awkward girl not ready for marriage.

"One way or another, I will make it right," Ian said. "I am grateful to ye for taking care of the family in my absence."

"It's Sileas ye should be thanking, not me." His brother stood abruptly, jostling the table. He was shaking with anger. "Sileas has worked herself to the bone, keeping the family going these last weeks. Did ye not see the circles under her eyes? I do my best to help her, but it's no enough."

"I'll see to things now," Ian said, keeping his voice quiet.

"Then you'd best convince her to stay," Niall said, "for we cannot do without her."

"Sileas is not going anywhere soon." At least not until he made up his mind.

" 'Tis a wonder she hasn't left ye yet," Niall said, his eyes burning into Ian. "If ye don't know it, there is a line of men just waiting for her to lose patience with ye."

CHAPTER 7.

Ian listened to Alex's snoring in the next bed and watched the sky grow light through the crack in the shutters of the old cottage as he thought about the day ahead. It was an important day, for him and for the clan. After weighing the advantages and disadvantages over the two days since his return, he had decided to accept Sileas as his true wife. He would tell her today, after the gathering at the church.

In the end, it was an easy choice. Sileas had become the peg that held his family together. After not being here when they needed him, he would not take her away from them now. They were all very fond of her. In fact, he was a trifle concerned Niall's feelings toward her were not entirely brotherly, but the lad was young and would get over it soon enough.

For his mother, Sileas filled the hole in her heart left by the baby daughters she had lost. What surprised him was the closeness between Sileas and his father. Busy as Sileas was, Ian found her at his father's bedside several times a day. Her presence seemed to soothe him. Although his father had never openly mourned the loss of their daughters as his mother had, perhaps he, too, had carried a wound that Sileas healed.

If for no other reason, Ian would have kept Sileas for the sake of his family. Added to that, she was heir to Knock Castle, a good manager, and she made his blood run hot. What more could a man ask for?

Now that he'd come home to take his place in the clan, he needed a wife. There was no good reason to upset the basket when he already had one that suited. The only objection he could claim was that he hadn't chosen Sileas in the first place. It would be just pigheaded to let that stop him when everything else weighed in favor of the marriage.

Now that he'd made up his mind, it was only a matter of getting Sileas alone so he could tell her. Saving the clan from Hugh Dubh came first, of course. He would speak to her after the business at the church today.

Then he could join Sileas in the bed upstairs.

He smiled to himself. That particular advantage had weighed heavily in favor of keeping the marriage. No more sleeping in the old cottage with Alex. And once he told Sileas of his decision, she would stop giving him the sharp edge of her tongue.

He could think of other uses for that tongue...

"Are ye going to lie abed all morning?" Alex said, and Ian turned to find his cousin dressed and strapping on his claymore.

Ian grinned at him, feeling better than he had since returning home. He could hardly wait to see Sil's face when he told her. He remembered how she used to look up to him, with that glow in her eyes, as if he was the strongest and bravest person she could ever hope to meet.

When he told her, she would look at him that way again-but with a woman's eyes. And a woman's desire. Then he'd pull her into his arms and kiss her as he'd been wanting to. Ah, it had been years since he'd given a la.s.s her first kiss.

And then there would be all the other firsts...

G.o.d's blood, he'd never bedded a virgin before. He had done his best to avoid innocents up until now. It surprised him that he found the prospect of bedding a virgin... exciting. At least, this particular virgin. Sileas would be his alone, now and forever.

"Ian," Alex said, jarring him back to the present.

As he got out of bed, Ian grabbed his plaid to cover his throbbing erection. G.o.d's beard, he was in pain. Tonight. Tonight, he would get to take Sileas to bed.

But first, there was the gathering. Work before pleasure.

"I see you're going to church prepared," Ian said to Alex, as he strapped on his own claymore.

"I don't wish to count on Hugh respecting the house of G.o.d without encouragement."

Word of Ian and Alex's arrival would have reached Hugh's ears, and their presence was bound to make Hugh nervous. Hugh was no one's fool. He'd know that if they were here, Connor and Duncan could not be far behind.

"How many blades are ye taking?" Ian asked, as he slipped a dirk into the side of his boot.

"I only have two dirks," Alex said, pulling a face.

"Here," Ian said, tossing him another. "I got extra from the house last night."

"You're a good man," Alex said, catching it.

Sileas wasn't downstairs when they had their breakfast, but she was waiting at the gate with Ian's mother when Ian, Alex, and Niall brought the horses to the front of the house.

"You're sure you'll be fine without me?" Sileas asked his mother.

"Ye worry too much," his mother said, patting her hand. "I'm feeling my old self again. Payton and I will manage just fine."

Sileas kissed his mother on the cheek and turned to where the three of them were waiting on their horses. "It's such a fine day," she said. "We could walk."

"We're riding," Ian said.

It was true that the rain was no more than a light mist, which made it a fine day for mid-October in the Highlands. But he wanted the horses in case they needed to make a quick departure.

When Sileas started toward Niall's horse, Ian nudged his forward to block her way. He held out his hand. "Ride with me."

For a moment, she looked as if she would refuse, which annoyed him. He reminded himself that she didn't know yet of his decision. When she finally gave him her hand, he swung her up in front of him. He pulled her tight against him as he kicked his horse into a trot. When he turned to wave good-bye to his mother, she gave him an approving nod.

He'd make two women happy by his decision to make a true marriage with Sileas.

It was hard to think with the smell of her hair in his nose and her bottom snug between his thighs. But the ride was short, so he forced his thoughts to what he would say to the men when they got there.

As they neared the church, they had to pa.s.s Dunscaith Castle, the seat of their clan chieftain. The castle was made famous by two women, both of whom-if Tearlag was to be believed-were Duncan's ancestors. According to the old stories, Dunscaith was built in a single night by a sea witch. It was here, too, that the great Celtic warrior queen, Scathach, ran her legendary School for Heroes.

Ian had seen Dunscaith a thousand times before, but today he looked at it for the first time as an attacker. The castle stood on a rock island just offsh.o.r.e, with a gap of twenty feet between it and the main island. If the sheer rock was not enough to deter an attack by sea, the five-foot-thick curtain wall on top of it surely would.

To get into the castle, an attacker either had to come in by the sea gate on the far side, which was easily blocked, or cross the walled bridge that spanned the gap. If you made it across the bridge, the castle's defenders could raise the drawbridge at their end of it to stop you. And if you made it past the drawbridge, you still had to fight your way up a walled flight of stairs that was too narrow for two men to go abreast swinging their swords.

"An easy castle to defend and a hard one to take," Alex said, echoing Ian's thoughts.

"Aye." As they rode past, Ian narrowed his eyes at the castle's tower. Was Hugh there now, watching them from his perch?

It was hard to bear that a greedy, honorless man held the castle where Scathach had trained her celebrated warriors of old.

Ian could see that there was already a large gathering of people outside the church, which was no more than a stone's throw past the bridge to the castle. The church was a humble, whitewashed building, a poor relation to the cathedrals he had seen in France.

With his thoughts on Hugh and the tasks ahead, Ian realized that he hadn't spoken a word to Sileas-but he didn't have time now.

"Watch after her," Ian said to his brother, as he helped her dismount. "I need to talk to the men."