Chapter 49

I sat on a rock overlooking the valley. The summer sun was warm and comforting as it soaked into my skin. I loved this vantage point, for I could see everything. The town square, the patchwork fields; the forest, and the sparkling seas beyond. Stormway was at my back and ahead of me was land and sky and ocean. My land and sky and ocean. Mine, but not for much longer.

Ownership and pride consumed me, the push of expectation, the celebration of hard work. Somehow, I had done it. I had survived. Ellesmure was a thriving, productive island, again. The ring of hammers and the scrape of saws echoed in the air — a large addition to Innis' library being built in haste.

The heartbeat of the island thrummed alongside my own, a twin tucked in beside the organ in my chest. Its pulse sang to me of possibility and promise. Of a life fulfilled.

I watched the approaching caravan with uncomfortable resignation. The returning army lurching along the dusty road from the coast. Unforgivably winding their way up to the castle. I couldn't see individuals. They were still too far off, but I knew my father and brothers were at the front of the line.

Father. John. Ian. Rupert. Robert.

Timothy, Thomas, and Walther settling in their graves at last, no longer lonesome without their brothers.

What would they think of Stormway now? Would they notice or care that the world they left was not the one to which they were returning? Would everything go back to normal or would I have a presence, now, to manage affairs with them?

I couldn't imagine what they looked like. Portraits of my family hung around the castle, but they were commissioned in the glow of youth. The images preserved my brothers as children. John, the eldest, would be near forty; his most recent portrait was painted when he was sixteen. How was I to know the men they had become? How would they respond to the woman I now was? The fleeting moments of closeness we shared in the months before the war, was that enough to bond us as adults?

Father was another specter. A shadow I couldn't place. My memories of him were of frustrated gruffness or beleaguered tolerance. His impatience and confusion at having to raise a girl. I was less preoccupied with his response to my management of Ellesmure. I had, after all, kept it for him when the records showed he had been intent on losing it at any cost.

Without turning to look, I knew Mother hovered in a window in the castle behind me. No doubt frowning down on me as I sat brooding. Her stare was like a brand across my back.

In the months since her return, we had been at a near-constant clash between her desire to reinstate herself as Lady MacLeod and my unwillingness to allow her to do so. We had come to blows on a near-weekly basis over issues both trivial and profound. My resentment and her guilt were fiery arrows that found their sticking points in our most vulnerable weaknesses. Whatever familial bond had existed between us had been rent for good, the fabric disintegrating like dry-rotted silk. I knew she was biding her time until this moment; when, outnumbered, at last, I would be prey for her bidding. The rightful rulers returning to oust me.

I stood on gallows; the executioner poised with a ready foot on the stool. He only needed the drumming to stop.

Crunching footsteps behind me alerted me that my private rumination was over. Intent on prolonging my self-imposed suffering, I kept looking forward, staring at the slow advancement of all my worst nightmares.

I felt warm hands on my shoulders and the solid bulk of two people sitting on either side of me. Alex and Calum, refusing to let me suffer alone.

Calum had returned two days ago, eyes wild and full of frantic passion. He had paused the delegation, informing the other Lairds that he must observe the situation at Stormway before they could have further discussion. The Charter was very close to being complete, and they wanted to minimize potential threats to its signing.

I smiled at Calum who gave me a mournful grimace. Leaning into Alex, I ran a steady hand down his back. We watched the procession for a while. Words were beyond us.

"It's over," I sighed.

"Mmm," Alex hummed his confirmation, smoothing my hair and leaning his cheek against the top of my head.

Like me, Alex had been antagonistic to my Mother. Disappointed, angry, and incredulous that she assumed I would blithely step aside. Their relationship, which had always been pleasant, was strained. Now they only spoke of the weather in tight, clipped voices.

"Well, you had a good time of it," Calum said through a dry laugh. "You met me, after all."

Groaning, I slumped over, resting my elbows on my knees. I watched the parade through my fingers. Alex and Calum rested consoling hands on my back and stroked up and down.

"This is no judgment on you, dear Lady, but Stormway seems more lively? I heard giggling as I walked through the halls. Giggling. And, I can't be sure I wasn't dreaming, but women were wearing brocade and satin!" Calum continued. Placating me the only way he knew how, with humor and derision.

"Mother demanded the courtiers come back," I said.

"Well, at least I'll finally have suitable opponents at cards," Calum murmured.

Alex laughed. "Will they invite Malcolm to the delegation? Eilean's father, that is."

"There are reservations, about entertaining the dead-but-alive Lord MacLeod's presence after his part in leading the Islands to a futile war. Naturally, the other Lairds feel quite resentful."

I sat up, considering that. "What about my brothers?"

He shrugged. "Guilty by association. If anything, it strengthens your claim, Eilean." Calum smiled. "I could doubtless manage a majority of Lairds to agree to write your Lairdship into the Charter itself rather than give your father any leeway."

"Is it as bad as that?" I marveled.

"The devil you know..." Alex shook his head.

"Precisely," Calum confirmed.

"And they're not worried about my relationship with her?" Alex asked.

Calum shook his head back and forth and then waved away the concern with a flick of his wrist. "The delegation is indifferent. You're an altogether likable man, don't get me wrong, but you have spent most of your life on Ellesmure. They don't think that inspires the battle-ready loyalty from your own countrymen that would be a threat to us."

Alex and I laughed. A kernel of hope bloomed in my chest. Quiet and small, but enough to pull me from the shadows of my thoughts. True to his promise, Alex had, in fact, given it all up. For Ellesmure. For Stormway. For me. Maybe even much earlier in his life than he even realized.

"When you get married, if I may be so bold, please —"

"You can plan the ceremony, Calum. Don't worry." I sighed and rolled my eyes, but chuckled at the pained, worried expression he had pulled. Terrified by the prospect of a quiet ceremony.

"You would wear muddy boots and think nothing of it," he chided. "Speaking of parties, what do you have planned for the grand return?"

I snorted, "Nothing."

"Good," Calum said. "They don't deserve it."

"Do we even know what happened? Where did they go for the four years they were missing?" Alex asked.

"Mother wouldn't tell me anything. When I asked, and I asked repeatedly. She kind of... went dark. Every time she'd stop speaking and leave the room."

"I have my spies on it." Calum shrugged. "We'll find out, mark my words."

~

True, I had no elaborate welcome prepared for the returning army. No one threw flowers before their path. There was no lane lined with cheering admirers. There were cries of joy as soldiers broke off from the processional and joined their mothers, wives, and sisters again.

In the courtyard, I stood with my mother and Alex. Calum, Innis, and Angus flanked me, their posture tense and faces grave. Bess stood with Wallis behind Alex.

Mother had been surprisingly calm upon learning of her true daughter-in-law and grandchild. She had only nodded and offered me an unimpressed raise of her brow. There was no mention of Bess differing from the daughter-in-law she had seen married to her son so many years ago. While Wallis was disinterested in my mother's idea of fun, the child enjoyed watching her at embroidery and had taken to the quiet activity with some relish. In only a few months, Wallis had made more silk ribbon flowers than anyone would need in a lifetime and had perfected keen artistry in her samplers.

Before I was ready, men arrived in the courtyard.

Road-weary and tired, Father slid off his horse. With a fleeting glance at me and Alex, he walked straight to my mother and embraced her. Relief and happiness seemed to shine through his face. Older now, harder; but still ruddy and handsome in a rough-cut way.

"And who might you be?" He asked, turning to me with a smile.

I curtsied, some long-forgotten protocol making a lady of me against my will. "Eilean, sir. Your daughter."

It was humiliating to think I was so changed that no one in my family could recognize me.

Father took in my appearance, grimacing at the pants and boots, but the pride in his eyes was unmistakable. It was so unexpected it made me woozy. It changed his demeanor and made him look softer, kinder. I practically fainted when he gathered me into his arms and crushed me in a powerful hug.

"I am so proud of you, Eilean." He whispered, kissing the top of my head. A confession just for us. A peace offering.

Wide-eyed, I looked at Alex, who seemed just as flabbergasted as I felt.

"Welcome back, Father," was all I could manage.

He let go of me and patted my cheek before moving on. "And you! Alexander Leslie! I thought we kicked you out of Stormway years ago!" He trapped Alex in a bone-crushing hug of his own.

"It is a pleasure to see you returned, sir," Alex wheezed. Once free of the embrace, he smoothed his jacket.

"Bit of a nasty business on the Mainlands, what with The Fist remaining neutral, son." Father mussed Alex's hair. "But, seeing as it all worked out in my favor, I don't much mind which side you stood for." Father's voice was as loud and booming as ever. His words were brash and embarrassing.

"It wasn't my fight, sir," Alex said stiffly.

"Eh, you always were an Islander. That's why you're here, I suppose. A draw! Damn them all! We could have won!"

I had noticed that my mother talked about the war similarly as if it had ended weeks ago and not years prior. My curiosity at their experience piqued, tempered by chagrin that Father would brag and boast about a campaign that had accomplished nothing but destruction. I gripped Calum's arm, my nails biting through the fabric until I felt the muscled form beneath.

"Steady," Calum breathed, covering my hand with his.

Innis was pale, her breaths short and fast. It was one thing to know of the man who had upended your entire life and another thing to see him in the flesh.

I turned my attention to my brothers. They hovered around my mother in a semi-circle, indulging her as she hugged and kissed and cried over them as if she hadn't been traveling with them until a few months ago. The long-dormant sensation of jealousy roared within me. Their reunion with her was so at odds with my own.

John lingered by Mother, looking at me with raised brows and a tilted head. Robert smiled and ducked his head, snickering when he noticed Alex by my side. Rupert surprised me, breaking out of Mother's embrace to fall at my feet. He hugged me around my waist and cried. Rupert cried. The largest, strongest, most crude of my brothers sobbed into my shirtfront.

I wasn't sure what to do, so I patted the top of his head. "Welcome home, Rupert."

Ian wandered over, his steps slow. He was rail-thin. His glasses sat crookedly on his face, perched on a nose newly disfigured. It looked as if it had broken many times and had been badly mended each instance. Kissing my cheek, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and leaned on me. All of his weight rested against my frame.

"You did it," he breathed. His clothes stank of horses and sweat.

As I tried to find my bearings under this outpouring of unnatural affection, a cry rang out across the courtyard.

"WALTHER!"

My head snapped to where Bess stood, her face crumpling as she whimpered. Her mouth still open in the scream of my brother's name. Letting out an ungodly moan, she fell to her knees, sobbing. Wallis cried as she watched her mother cave in on herself. Bess' choking sobs brought everyone in the courtyard to a standstill.

"Mommy?" Wallis asked, terrified.

Angus, understanding something I had not, rushed forward and plucked up the girl, cradling her in his arms. "It's alright, love. Your mama's had a wee shock, she's going to be fine." He found my eyes and jerked his head toward a new troupe of men riding in through the gates.

"Oh my god," I breathed, pushing Rupert and Ian off of me.

Alex swore beside me.

There he was. His long hair matted and unkept, dusted white from the road. The languid frame that was lanky and broad; the aristocratic mouth and crooked front teeth. The dainty, long fingers. Walther lept off his horse and ran to Bess.

"How —" the question died in my mouth, a mere sigh.

He fell to the ground, falling over Bess' hunched form, sheltering her with his body. His gut-wracking cries joined hers. The unrestrained passion in their embrace held everyone's attention in thrall. They cried, covering each other in kisses and tears, smothered each other with laughter.

After a moment, Angus led a timid Wallis to her parents.

A sob wrung its way out of my too-tight throat.

Walther, kneeling before her, shook the little girl's hands. "I am your papa," he said, his words gentle and his voice awed.

With an encouraging smile from her mother, Wallis walked into Walther's open arms. He held her, rocking back and forth as he cried. Tears sparkled in her hair.

"How —" I repeated, crying.

"I imagine there will be time to learn, later," Alex's voice was a flutter against my ear. His cheeks were damp.

"Why didn't my mother say anything?" I held my hand to my throat, horrified by her withholding of this information.

I felt Alex shrug, his shoulders ruffling against me. "Who knows?"

"Have you food for us, Eilean?" Father boomed over the courtyard.

I turned and looked at him, as startled by him as ever. The way he imposed himself on space and sound.

"Yes, of course," I nodded, wiping my eyes and clearing my throat. "There is lunch available in the great hall. Your rooms are clean and aired out. Hot baths are ready, too, if you would prefer to clean up first."

"What a wonderful hostess," Father said, dismissing me with a placid smile. He breezed past the rest of us and crossed the threshold of the castle. The Laird come home at last.

My eyes met Innis' and I found pity there. How quickly I had gone from savior of the estate to mere hostess. I lingered by the door as my mother and brothers filled into the castle. They talked excitedly. A complete family bonded by their shared experiences.

Walther approached the rest of us; me, Alex, Calum, Angus, and Innis. His arm was supportive across Bess' shoulders. Wallis snugly, if cautiously, perched on his hip.

"Thank you," he said, tears leaving trails in the dirt on his cheeks. He grabbed my hand and kissed it, pressed the back of my fist to his heart.

I felt his gratitude, his love.

"Bess has been the most wonderful sister," I said as if that was explanation enough. "I hope I did well by you, brother."

"You made her a Lady MacLeod," he said, voice rough. "Even I wouldn't have been able to do that."

I shook my head, overcome with emotion. Bess beamed at me, her face more beautiful and more alive than I had ever seen it.

"It was nothing."

Walther gave me a sad smile. "There will be a time, later, to explain everything. To mend the wounds that we inflicted."

I nodded, knowing he spoke true. Once again, the bite of shame gnawed on me. The knowledge that in my perfect world, they never would have returned. Walther, I think, could sense that.

"Let today be about family, about celebration," he pleaded, eyes wide.

"Of course," I said, pushing down my feelings. Hiding them away under the guise of indifference. "Come, there is food and drink in the hall." I waved Bess, Walther, and everyone else into the castle.

Alex lingered outside with me. "That wasn't terrible," he said.

I raised my eyebrows and grunted.

"It could have been worse. At least your father recognized your success."

"Yes, and I can't wait to see him unravel all our hard work."

Alex laughed and kissed my cheek. "Bitter creature," he teased. "Though your worries are not undeserved."