Chapter 46

Winter passed in a blur of blizzards and a whirl of snowstorms. It was the harshest winter I could recall and was grateful for all the hard work we had done to prepare. Though the winds howled outside, and the days were long and dark, inside the castle was bright and cozy.

Together, amid many nights locked up in my rooms, Alex and I became what we had always been destined to be. We looked to the future: planned improvements to the castle and other projects across Ellesmure. He sketched up an itinerary for a trip to the Mainland so I might see his home. Marriage, the promise of it, clung like mist to every action, word, and glance Alex and I shared. We discussed spring or summer, harvest or New Year. It was easy. I felt bound to Alex, connected to him in a way that filled my heart.

In January, a distant uncle of Alex's passed, leaving him a small inheritance. As a gift to me and for our future together, he applied the funds to the estate's debt. Wiping clean the lingering weight of my father's financial mismanagement.

On a bitter February afternoon, I sat in the office going over various issues of castle activity when my potential departure to The Fist was introduced.

"You know you're going to have to appoint one of us as the leader," Innis said, frowning at the months-long agenda of Alex and my absence.

I frowned at her, "You're telling me between you, Bess, and Angus you couldn't divide the work?"

"It's not about dividing the work as much as it is about preventing a bloodbath over control."

I laughed but stopped as I noticed the serious faces around me. Innis, Bess, and Angus considered me with scowls. Behind their eyes, I could see the machinations of their temporary coups.

"Oh, come on," I gripped. "You have to be kidding me."

They all smirked.

"In this game of favorites, Miss Eilean, will you be accepting bribes?" Angus said, twirling the tip of his beard, a playful glint in his eyes.

Rolling my eyes, l said, "Forget it, I'll put Calum in charge."

"He'd be a disaster," Bess said, shaking her head. "It'd be a bacchanal every night. The power would go to his head."

Innis hummed her agreement. "He'd empty your coffers, refurbishing all the rooms to make them more fashionable. He hates the way you decorate, you know."

"What is wrong with — " I shook my head, laughing. "He hates the way my mother decorated, you mean. I guess you're all lucky he's still required at the delegation." At this point, Wallis seemed the most likely candidate to cover my absence.

"Speaking of," Innis said, her eyes brightening, "I was going to save this for your birthday, but that's months away and I don't want to wait. I uncovered something interesting in a new shipment of documents from the south."

I waved her on.

"There is an old law, an ancient law, but it has no record of being challenged or stricken from any version of the Island Charter. Including the current one. It's simply buried by everything else and easy to overlook." Innis shuffled through a crate of books on the floor. She pulled out an ancient volume bound in crumbling blue leather and flipped to a page marked with an ink-stained ribbon. She slid the book over the desk to me and pointed at a passage. The ink was faded and blurred from years of retouching.

"Estates are considered transferred to an assumptive head, passing all titles, honors, and ownership, after a period of five years. Assumptive heads can be appointed or, in the case of an abandoned seat, claimed." Innis recited in a clipped voice.

Bess, Angus, and I all bent over the book, squinting. The implication of Innis' words rushed through us.

"Ellesmure is legally yours," Angus said softly.

I looked at Bess, who marveled, open-mouthed. Then at Innis, who looked triumphant.

"But I never declared my family dead," I said, thunder rumbling through my head, leaving little room for rational thought.

"According to this, it doesn't matter," Innis said, waving away my concerns. "You've been a steward for the requisite length of time. So long as this clause remains in the revised Charter, no one can question your ownership of Stormway. Even if you are a woman."

Angus grinned like a madman. He whooped and grabbed me around the middle, picking me up and spinning me until I saw stars.

"Does Calum know?" Bess asked, her cheeks pink. She kneaded her hands together.

"I wrote him this morning and told him to pay extra mind to this passage," Innis confirmed.

I was still aloft, being swung about when Alex entered the room. "What's this racket?"

Angus stopped spinning and loosened his grip, allowing me to slide back down to the floor.

I was breathless, in shock. Nothing made sense, everything was topsy-turvy. "Ellesmure is mine. We found legal precedent for —"

Alex strode across the room, capturing me in his arms and bending me backward with an embrace of such devotion that I blushed violently.

Snickering, everyone else left the room on tiptoes.

~

As the spring sun pushed aside the gloom of winter, I relaxed. I let life ease past me. There was nothing more to fear. Stormway was mine, Alex was mine, and on the crisp air of a new season was the promise of a new life. With shared smiles and a promise of forever, Alex and I began another year of managing Ellesmure.

On quieter days, I would lay my hands against the cold stone of the castle walls and try to feel the memory of my family's presence. Tried to call up the memory of my brothers' noise and excitability. Hardly an echo remained of their boisterous laughter and shouted taunts. I had Ian's portrait moved to Innis' library, it seemed right that he should be there.

On nights when I was prone to being maudlin, I would study Wallis' face. Hunting in her eyes, her smile, the way she said certain words, looking for the ghost of Walther. Wondering if any part of my family was preserved in her. Sometimes there was a flicker of promise, a blink-and-miss-it flash of familiar characteristics, but they always disappeared before I could name its originator.

Soon, it would be six years since the departure of my family. I seldom remembered them. I pushed aside their memories and let their ghosts fade as life bloomed around me.

Alex and I ate breakfast in the kitchen with the servants on a bright, cheerful day in late March. We had departed from our typical routine of breakfast in my chambers, desperate for a special elderberry pancake that could only be obtained through the in-person haggling of Cook.

I watched white, puffy clouds drift by in a sky of pristine blue. Birdsong and the perfume of new grass blew in through the windows on a light breeze.

"We should see to the main gate today," I said, leaning over to put the suggestion in Alex's ear as he poured syrup on his pancakes.

Grunting, he shoveled four bites into his mouth before swallowing or replying. "Fine by me," he said, reaching for and taking a deep gulp of coffee.

"So civilized," I said, both amused and aggrieved by his appetite.

"I had a busy night," he said with a shrug, spearing me with sparkling eyes and a roughish wink.

Clearing my throat to hide my blush, I looked down and balled up my napkin. "Grab some carpenters and meet me out there when you finish eating. If you finish eating."

I placed my hand on his shoulder to steady myself as I got up from the bench. "And remember to breathe between bites, will you?"

"Afraid I'll choke?"

I leveled a stare at him. "Die if you want, but make sure you do it after I've inherited your riches."

He laughed and shook his head, allowing me to press a placating kiss against his cheek. As I walked away, I let my fingers trail across his shoulders. He watched me leave, a too-satisfied smirk on his face. Before I was out of reach, he landed a gentle swat against my bottom. Cook and the other kitchen staff turned a blind eye.

I made my way out of the castle, striding through the courtyard and inner gate before stalking across the wide, wild meadow that separated the castle proper from the defensive walls of Stormway. The long grasses were soft and brilliantly green. Butterflies and bees flocked amongst the wildflowers. The defensive gate was more imposing, more defensible than the entrance to the castle courtyard. It loomed above me. I waved to Angus' guards posted at the watchtowers.

Studying the gate, I cataloged the work that needed to be done. A few panels of the weather-beaten wood needed replacing; the hinges removed, soaked in oil, and rehung. The whole thing needed a fresh coat of paint — MacLeod yellow, of course. It wasn't a lot of work, but it would make for a busy morning and spare me a few hours crouched over a desk in the study. Moments later, Alex and three carpenters arrived carrying tools. Alex carried two buckets of paint.

"Yellow and black! Should we paint stripes on the doors like a bee?" He said, hoisting the buckets into the air.

Grimacing, I rolled up my sleeves. I accepted a hammer from one carpenter, a stocky woman with sunburned freckles.

"No bumblebee paint jobs, please," I ordered.

Hours later, Alex and I sat in the grass. Paint and oil-covered every inch of us and we were flushed and sweating in the brightness. Relaxing in the grass, I closed my eyes and let the sun beat down on me, warming me from the outside in.

"A few tenant farmers are coming at lunch," Alex said, interrupting my serenity.

"All you talk about is work," I groused, bringing my hand over my eyes to shield them from the glare as I looked at him.

Alex leaned toward me, his voice husky. A lopsided grin pulled on his lips. "I talk about work, lady, because I like to keep you in a state of excitement."

"At least you're entertaining when you talk about farming."

"Am I not otherwise?"

I pretended to think about it, laughing as he waggled his eyebrows. For his trouble, I gave him a quick kiss.

"Rider!" Came a shout from the watchtower. "Rider approaching!"

"Just one?" Alex called up to the watchman.

"On a horse, sir."

Alex popped up, offering me a hand to pull me up. Peering through the open gate — the carpenters adding final touches to the decorative carving — we watched the lone rider trot up the road.

"We aren't expecting anyone," I mumbled, squinting to make out any details. As far as I could tell, they rode with no insignia or colors.

"Calum? He mentioned the delegation was in recess in his letter." Alex suggested.

"When have you ever known Calum to arrive alone and unadorned?"

Alex laughed.

As the person approached and their figure took shape, something sharp and sick pooled low in my stomach. My mouth watered and my gut recoiled. I dry heaved, bending in half and convulsing.

"Eilean?" Alex asked, tending to me as I fell to my knees.

I gripped the grass, pulling against the roots to keep me anchored to the ground. My breath came in gasps.

"No, no, no, no, no," I chanted, losing sense of myself. I breathed through shuddering lips, my entire body shaking.

There was no mistaking her.

The hair as black as midnight.

Her faithful spotted mare.

Mother.

Shock, relief, joy, rage — all the emotions fought for dominance inside my body. My limbs were cold and prickly, my lungs starving for air.

"Are you alright?" Alex asked, concerned.

The carpenters huddled around me, too; their posts abandoned.

"It's her. It's her." The only words I could utter.

"Who —" Alex started to ask, but then she was upon us.

"Oh my god," Alex breathed, his mouth falling open as recognition dawned.

"Young men," Mother said, her voice so familiar as if I had only heard it moments ago.

I gripped the hand of the female carpenter, shaking my head in apology.

"One of you," Mother continued, her impersonal voice full of presumption, "run ahead and tell my daughter, Eilean, should she still be alive, that Lady MacLeod has returned."

It was all so unreal. I had to be dreaming. I was right in front of her and she didn't see me. Didn't know me. I couldn't stand to look at her and yet all I could do was ogle.

Alive.

Here.

She looked fit. Healthy, even. Not a hair out of place, her clothes perfectly fitted to her frame. There wasn't the faintest suggestion that she had spent the last four years assumed dead. Indeed, that she had known any hardship at all.

The carpenters and Alex hesitated, gaping as they looked from my mother to me. Tense confusion made their features tight.

Alex came to his senses first. Turning me and pushing me towards the castle. "Go tell Lady Eilean her mother has arrived," he said, steel in his voice.

"But sir, she's —" One carpenter said.

Alex cut him off with a terse "That's enough, Craig."

I took the exit he provided and ran. My feet slapped against the ground, my heart pounding.

She was here. She was here. She was here.

I was covered in paint and grass. Wearing pants.

She hadn't recognized me. Hadn't even looked my way.

Panting, I pushed myself to run as fast as I could, my mind racing for the right way to greet her.

What would I say?

What would I wear?

I would never make myself presentable in time.