Welcome
Aiglon seemed content to peck out the eyes of the fish she released on to the deck before taking off on another fishing expedition. Crewmen from both vessels soon had the catch gutted and boned and sizzling over a fire.
They didn’t linger over the meal, anxious to get the birlinn and the galley back to the estuary of the Nith before the tide turned.
The sight of the towers of Caerlochnaven never failed to fill Broderick with a sense of homecoming. “I’ve always loved this castle,” he told Kyla, “but sharing it with ye will make it even better.”
“’Tis the place o’ yer birth,” she replied, “and where ye’ve lived all yer life.”
“Aye,” he agreed, “apart from two years studying in France.”
She snuggled into him as the crews brought the boats to shore and the evening chill settled around them. “I ken many young Scots studied in France when our countries were allies, but I didna ken ye were a mon of letters.”
He chuckled, pulling her closer. “Good thing since it seems I’m to marry a woman of letters.”
She shrugged. “I’ll probably be too busy feeding bairns and helping ye run the castle and lead the clan,” she said.
He pondered her words. He’d considered himself unequal to the task of leading the clan. Now he relished the prospect.
But she was giving up a great deal to enrich his life. “Ye’ll miss Dun Scaith.”
“Aye, but Caerlochnaven’s a bonnier castle, truth be told. And I willna have to put up with four half-brothers.”
He sensed regret behind the flippant remark. “But life here isna the same as on Skye.”
She let out a sigh. “I like a challenge.”
“So ye’re certain about all this?”
She looked across the meadow at the looming towers of Caerlochnaven, newly-lit torches flickering on the battlements. “I’ve ne’er been more certain of anything.”
Broderick had often burst into song when he wanted to express his happiness. Now he had an urge to strut around the gunboat beating his chest.
*
A strange thing happened as they walked through the tunnel gate. The oppressive dread Kyla had felt before didn’t weigh down on her. Her heart seemed to know she was coming home.
Hamish brushed away tears and sighed heavily as he lumbered out of his gatehouse to greet them. “I was that worried when ye left here, my laird,” he gushed. “Forgive me. ’Twas my fault giving refuge to a murderer. Praise be ye’re all safe and sound.”
Broderick assured him there was nothing to forgive, then introduced Darroch and his crew. “Tell the steward to prepare for extra visitors. The men have been fed, but Laird MacKeegan will need a chamber.”
“Aye,” Hamish replied.
“And the castle folk are to assemble as soon as possible in the Great Hall.”
Hamish nodded vigorously. “Everyone is anxious to hear what has happened, and they’ll be glad to see Lady Lily and Mistress MacKeegan safely returned.”
He hurried away to do his laird’s bidding.
Delft took charge of leading the sailors from both boats to the hall. Adrian hung back, looking uncertain until Nicolson beckoned. He glanced briefly at Lily before following the navigator.
Broderick took Kyla’s hand. “I suggest ye and Lily go to yer chamber for a wee bit while yer father and I get things organized in the hall.”
Lily frowned, casting an anxious glance at her brother. “I ken Laird Lochwood canna hurt us anymore, but…”
Kyla knew exactly how she felt. She didn’t want to leave Broderick’s side. “’Twill be a while before any of us recover from the fear,” she told Lily.
He understood without her saying anything further. “True. We’ll stay together.”
Lily giggled when Kyla’s father bowed and took her by the hand. “Do I have yer permission to escort yer lovely sister, my laird?” he asked her brother.
They made their way to the hall, encountering growing excitement among the people they passed. Men wanted to shake the laird’s hand. Women curtseyed. It gladdened Kyla’s heart to see they genuinely cared about Broderick and his sister.
A tearful Doreen appeared and scooped Lily into her embrace. “My wee bairn,” she sobbed. “I prayed ye’d return safely.”
To Kyla’s surprise, Lily allowed the crotchety maid to hug her. “I kent ye’d be praying for me, Doreen. I missed ye.”
A cheer went up when they entered the hall, which was already half-full.
“They didna really ken what was going on when I left so abruptly after my return from drowning,” Broderick explained, waving to acknowledge the cheers. “I probably babbled most of the story.”
They ascended the dais. For probably the first time in her life, Kyla was happy to be wearing a frock. It seemed more dignified.
She came close to laughing out loud when Lily whispered, “I feel very dignified.”
*
The last time Broderick had made an announcement from the dais, it was to inform the Maxwell Clan that their laird had been found guilty of murder and sentenced to be beheaded in Edinburgh.
On that day, he’d felt less than proud to be a Maxwell. The news was greeted with stunned disbelief. In retrospect, the verdict had been expected after his father’s return from exile in France and subsequent capture. He realized now that what folks had needed then was reassurance, leadership, courage. In that he had failed miserably.
Yet their regard for him had never wavered. It was humbling that they’d apparently seen strengths in him he hadn’t recognized.
But a new day had dawned and he intended to imbue his people with renewed optimism for the future.
When he was satisfied most of the castle folk had arrived, he braced his legs and waited, letting his gaze wander over the gathering.
An expectant hush fell.
He looked into narrowed eyes and frowning faces, and began the tale.
There were audible gasps when he explained the imposing gentleman standing at his side was Laird Darroch MacKeegan, owner of the birlinn he’d sunk.
He tried to keep a straight face when Darroch folded his arms across his chest, stared at the crowd and muttered, “Aye, the selfsame.”
A quick glance at Kyla showed she was having the same difficulty.
The credibility of Darroch’s stern demeanor was undermined when Lily leaned against his thigh and looked up at him with adoration.
By the time Broderick had recounted the whole tale, he was exhausted but elated. People gasped, jeered, applauded and finally cheered when told of Lochwood’s fate; many in the crowd looked like he’d dragged them through the labors of Hercules.
He wasn’t prepared therefore for the resounding hurrahs and whistles that shook the very walls when he took hold of Kyla’s hand and announced she had agreed to be his wife.
Excited men, women and bairns slowly exited the hall, offering hearty congratulations and thanks to Nicolson, Adrian and the other sailors for their roles in the successful outcome of their laird’s ordeal.
Broderick brushed his lips across Kyla’s knuckles, pleased to see the happy grin on her flushed face. “Ye can clearly see the Maxwell Clan needs ye as much as I do,” he rasped.