Taking the tray, Leith did not stop the woman from looking over at the Laird with wide wary eyes, then looked at him for—confirmation?—before she scurried away. He calmly settled the tray on his father’s lap, glad that the cooks had been mindful to cut the meat to portions his father could handle.
“Mother,” he said, “will ye stay here with him?”
She gave him a questioning look but did not ask, instead, she nodded, “Aye, I will.”
He strode out and went directly outside. Self-loathing curled inside his stomach. How was it that one word from his father could affect him so deeply? It felt like a stab to his gut. Where had his strength disappeared to? The cold night air slapped his face and nearly through him but he welcomed the chill.
His boasting to Tarrant about being able to handle many things at one time now felt hollow. Looking back up to the skies he wondered, Am I fit to be the laird or am I playing at it?
Nothing felt right. Nothing at all. With a heavy heart, he went back to the main house and to his rooms. His bedchamber was bare, with just the essentials: a bed, two side tables, a few chairs, and three wooden trunks. The only thing that highlighted the room was the large tapestry of a rising sun, its orange rays piercing through the dark clouds around it.
It was a stunning piece of tapestry, that for years had given him hope of better days. When his father had fallen ill, it was what he had used as a visual emblem of his faith in his father’s recovery. Now that it had come, he needed to use his birthright and be the clan’s Laird.
He did not go to bed despite the physical need to rest pricking at him. Taking a seat, he leaned an elbow on the arm and massaged his brow. What was the first thing he needed to do now?
Unlike most clans, there was no council to contend with and no meddlesome elders who had control issues. Nicolas controlled the soldiers but the responsibility for the villagers, the clans’ servants, and ties with nearby clans were his.
He did not move from the chair until daylight began to dawn. He had not slept at all but he had gone through worse. Rising, he washed his face and changed his clothes. He headed directly toward his father’s room and knocked.
“Enter,” his father’s voice was steadier than it had been last night and Leith took that for a good sign. He went inside to see his father inspecting the nailed window. “Were ye that scared I’d kill meself?”
“Aye,” Leith replied directly as he swallowed his pride. “I wasnae going to take any chances when I kent ye were nae yerself.”
Mirroring gray eyes met his with a sharper focus than last night. “What are ye here for so early?”
“To say that ye were right,” Leith replied while squaring his shoulders. “I was busy with seeking a cure for ye, aye, but that shouldnae have stopped me from stepping into yer shoes. I have leaned on Nicolas' shoulder too long and now I’m ready to take over until ye are back on yer feet.”
Pride warmed his father’s eyes, “Ye are, aren’t ye?”
“Aye,” Leith said, “I will nae remove Nicolas but I will take over the rest. Our clan relations with our neighbors are strong. Robasdan has confirmed it nay too long ago and I ken that Denwen will stand strong. As far as I ken the villagers have the same needs always, and there are no reivers attempting to pillage us.”
“And the servants?”
Using caution, Leith replied, “Nothing about them has changed.”
A sly smile curved his father’s lips. “Really now…what of that mute girl ye found near in the forest? I’d nay say nothing has changed if she’s added to us.”
“Mary is nay issue,” Leith replied casually. “I suppose mother told ye about her, innit? She has nowhere to go and told Rinalda that her parents disowned her. She can have asylum here as long as she wants.”
Nodding, Aaron said, “Aye, it is nay our way to turn those who need help from us. Speaking of lasses, have ye found yerself a wife yet?”
Shaking his head mutely, Leigh sighed. “Nay, and before ye ask, I am nay running with laggards and flittering me time away with tavern women. Women with the standards I’m lookin’ for are in rare supply.”
“Be sure to pick wisely still,” his father warned. “It’s nae easy son.”
Rising, Leith bowed his head. “I ken…just as I ken I’m going to take a ride to the village and see what’s needed there.”
His father waved him off and he left, feeling much better after having spoken to his father. Quickly, he passed by the great hall directly to the kitchens and called out for something warm to eat. He sat close to the doors with one boot cocked up on the table’s foot.
He twisted just in time to see Mary coming out with a tray in her hands. His breath left him with relief. Last night he had been so taken with thinking about his father, he had not even thought about Mary. It felt like another slap in his face. It felt like more proof that he could not handle two things at the same time.
He swallowed heavily when Mary came closer and for good reason. Her dress, strange to him, was made with deep-green cloth. What had his jaw clenching tight in jealously was that her bodice was so tight, it had her breasts nearly spilling out.
Nails bit into his palm but his face was devoid of any emotion. As she set the tray to his side, he growled. “Never ye wear that dress again, it’s indecent. Go to yer quarters and change. I dinnae care if ye wear sackcloth, but take this off.”
Her mouth nearly opened but her lips snapped by quickly enough that no one saw.
