Goodbyes
Kyla sobbed on Darroch chest. “I dinna want to go to Dun Scaith. Why can we nay stay here?”
After a month and a half in Dungavin, Darroch shared her reluctance to return to Sleat, but Isabel’s possessions had been packed, the horses and men stood ready to depart. “I ken ye like it here,” he replied. “Ye’ll miss Ian, but we can return for visits, and he’ll be welcome in Dun Scaith.”
His words sounded hollow even to his own ears. There was no telling how Stewart MacKeegan would react to their homecoming. He’d sent no word of congratulations nor even an acknowledgment of Darroch’s marriage to Isabel.
“Why can Ian nay accompany us now?” Kyla persisted.
“Because he and his father are still getting used to each other, and ’tis important he remain here.”
“But then Ian might find the Faerie Flag without me.”
Isabel stroked Kyla’s hair. “But I need ye more than my brother does,” she whispered. “I ken naught of Dun Scaith.”
Darroch smiled his thanks at his wife. She was leaving the only home she’d ever known to face an uncertain and possibly difficult future, yet her words of reassurance betrayed none of the trepidation she must be feeling.
“I’ll need a friend there,” she told Kyla, wiping the tears from the bairn’s face.
“Ye’ll have Dadaidh.”
“I mean a lass,” Isabel explained. “Besides, if ye stay here, I’ll miss ye terribly, and Blue will be bereft.”
“We’re all MacKeegans,” Darroch explained, glad his wife’s words seemed to be calming his daughter. “’Tis our duty to return to Dun Scaith.”
“Come,” Isabel said, taking Kyla’s hand. “They’re waiting to say goodbye.”
*
Hoping Kyla couldn’t feel her trembling, Isabel walked with her husband and stepdaughter to the courtyard.
Tears threatened when Ian put his arms around her hips and hugged her. “I wish ye didna have to go,” he said with a maturity beyond his years, “but I ken ’tis yer duty.”
She lifted him into her arms and held him tightly, just long enough to let him know she loved him, but not long enough to embarrass him. She sometimes wished he wasn’t quite so serious.
Darroch shook his hand. “Someday, ye and I will be leaders of our clans. Hopefully, we’ll work as allies for the good of our clanfolk.”
Ian nodded as his father put his good arm around his shoulders.
“Aye,” Rory said. “Enough blood’s been spilled.”
Isabel’s throat constricted as her uncle took her into his embrace. “I canna thank ye enough,” she murmured.
“I failed yer mother,” Boyd replied. “But I’ll always be there for ye.” He punched Darroch’s bicep. “If this husband o’ yers…”
“No fear o’ that,” Darroch assured him, shaking his hand and adding his thanks.
Isabel feared she might dissolve into tears at the sight of Fanny struggling to hide her emotions as Darroch embraced her. “I’ve a mind to build ye an outdoor sheep-fold when next I visit ye on Harris,” he told her.
“I’d appreciate that,” she rasped in reply, to everyone’s astonishment.
Isabel hugged her. “Ye ken I love ye,” she whispered.
“Take care o’ that bonnie lad,” Fanny admonished.
Rory shook Darroch’s hand, then spread his good arm wide. Isabel couldn’t speak as the loving father she remembered patted her back as she wept into his plaid. “Dinna be afraid,” he told her. “I’ve a feeling all will be fine at Dun Scaith.”
She nodded and walked away, glad of Darroch’s hand to guide her as the tears obscured her vision.
Coira appeared at her side and straightened the muffin hat. “’Tis gone a wee bit awry,” her maid said.
It was of some consolation Coira had agreed to accompany her to Dun Scaith. “Are ye sure about this?” Isabel asked again.
“Ye’ll need help with Kyla and yer own bairns,” her maid replied. “They can manage without me here.”
She smiled into her husband’s loving gaze as he helped her mount Storm. “Ye ken Fanny’s taken with ye,” she said. “If anyone else had suggested the sheep-fold…”
He winked. “Aye, the lasses are all smitten with me.”
His grin disappeared when Kyla unexpectedly walked away. She’d hung back during the goodbyes, but now she threw her arms around Ian and kissed him on the cheek, which he promptly wiped with the back of his hand.
Rory hunkered down by her side. She cocked her head to listen to something he whispered in her ear, then kissed him.
Smiling, she hurried back to the horses.
Darroch mounted and pulled her into his lap. “Ye look pleased with yerself,” he said.
“Aye,” she replied with a grin. “Chief Rory confided the secret location o’ the Faerie Flag. But he swore me to secrecy, so I canna tell a living soul.”
*
Darroch rode away from Dungavin with mixed emotions. In a strange way, he felt he was also leaving home, so he could only imagine Isabel’s feelings. “I love ye,” he told her. “No matter how difficult things get at Dun Scaith, always remember that.”
“And I love ye too,” Kyla assured her. “Do ye ken the secret o’ the Faerie Flag.”
Isabel tapped the side of her nose. “Aye, but ’tis something we ne’er speak of.”
Kyla nodded thoughtfully as they began their journey to Sleat.
Since his departure from Dun Scaith in search of vengeance, Darroch’s life had changed completely. His daughter no longer refused to speak, and her intelligence and wit brought him joy, not to mention her bravery had saved his life. He was married to a strong and beautiful woman he loved who’d accepted his illegitimate bairn as her own. A clan couldn’t wish for a more suitable wife for its future chief, and a mon would be hard pressed to find a more passionate bed partner. He’d formed an alliance with an enemy clan that would hopefully bring about an end to years of violence and hatred.
He prayed it would be enough to melt his father’s cold heart.