Alex would do what he could to stall mother, but I had little time. As I ran through the courtyard, I shouted at everyone I crossed to find Innis and Angus and bring them to the main hall. Servants dropped their work and scattered, no doubt alarmed by my panic.
A soft, wooing voice reminded me I was Laird now. Finery and gowns were unnecessary to maintain my appointment or position. My confusion and nausea at my mother's return smothered that voice. In five minutes, I was no better than the trembling child she had left behind.
There simply wasn't time.
Inhaling deeply through my nose, doing my best to put my thoughts at ease, I ran faster, careening through the castle. I flew through the double doors of the main hall and skidded to a halt in the dark stillness of the room.
She was just going to meet me as I was.
She'd survive it.
I'd survive it.
There wasn't enough time.
Pants. Paint-splattered. Sunburned. Disheveled in every way.
I gave up on the idea of making myself look acceptable and focused on making myself calm. I pulled the thin leather strap from the end of my braid and finger-combed my quarrelsome curls into haphazard submission — pulling out as many blades of grass as I could. My hands trembled as I pulled it back and twisted it into a tight bun.
What would I say?
What would I do?
Maids had followed me into the hall and were yanking open the curtains, allowing light to flood the room. How they knew what I needed was beyond me. We never used the main hall. We entertained no guests. Alex and I preferred to eat in the kitchens or in my rooms. My heart nearly caved in when I realized that despite its disuse, they had kept the room in excellent condition. There was no dust or disorder to contend with. The Laird's Seat gleamed and looked polished. The room was chilly without fires roaring in the fireplaces that lined the room, but that was manageable.
If mother had come home to a dirty hall...
I spoke to each woman, my hand pressed over my heart. "Thank you, thank you." I almost cried from the relief of their support.
A porter walked in, stiff-backed and serious. "Are we expecting guests, ma'am?"
"Alex is leading..." I licked my lips and smoothed the front of my shirt. This porter, sixteen years old, would not have known my mother. "We have a guest. Please escort Alex and our visitor to the main hall as soon as they arrive."
The porter bowed and left.
I walked around the room, trying to steady myself. My boots echoed against the stone, clunking and loud. Unfeminine and unrefined. I sat in the Laird's Seat, thinking that was the correct thing to do, but after a moment jumped out of it, shaking the tingling prick of nerves out of my fingers. I paced, gulping air and exhaling it in loud, audible sighs.
The maids filtered out.
There was nothing to do but wait. My heartbeat a mad ricochet inside my chest.
How did I feel? I couldn't tell. The situation was unfathomable. Either she was back from the dead or...
Angus and Innis trotted in through a side door, looking flustered.
"What is going on?" Innis asked, smoothing her hair.
"You scared the devil out of my guards with your shouting," Angus added.
I opened my mouth to answer, but the large doors at the top of the hall groaned open, their ancient hinges squeaking.
Alex entered first, then mother.
She seemed so small. Her eyes darted around the room. She sniffed in distaste at the empty fireplaces and rubbed her arms to ward off the chill. When she deigned to look my way, her eyes widened and she dropped her arms to her side.
I blushed as memories of never measuring up to her expectations flooded me with a mix of shame and defiance. A normal daughter would run toward her, desperate for a mother's embrace. We should be sharing tears and kisses and shouts of joy.
But that had never been my family.
And that had never been me.
I couldn't force myself to move, to do anything but stare stone-faced as she made her way closer.
Alex came to a halt before me and took a side step, positioning himself behind me.
Mother cocked her head, realization dawning in her bunched brows. "That was you? Out by the gates?"
I swallowed my fear. Bit back my rage. "It was."
Resentment ran through me like ice. It was unexpected and almost knocked me off balance as it gutted me. Battling it back, I ignored the gleaming claws of this base emotion.
Mother looked me up and down, taking in my appearance with a slight frown.
For the life of me, I couldn't remember if the deep lines in her face and the sadness in her eyes had always been there or if they were the effects of war. Had her face been softer before? Was the hard set of her jaw a souvenir of her years away? She reached out, as if wanting to caress my cheek, but our distance prevented it. Dropping her hand, she grimaced.
"I did not recognize Lord Leslie at all," Mother started, rocking back a step. "I hope you will forgive me, Eilean, for not knowing you."
The howling anger inside of me feasted on her hesitance. I had never seen her so ill at ease. It felt like triumph but had the greasy aftertaste of contempt.
Angus cleared his throat and stepped forward, his face a florid red. He stared down at my mother under his bushy brows. "You speak to Laird Eilean MacLeod, ma'am. I suggest you address my lady as befitting her status and title."
Mother scowled at him, but Angus only puffed out his chest and crossed his arms.
I bit my lips to keep from smiling. "Angus, meet my mother, Maeve McIntosh MacLeod," I said, laying a soothing hand on his elbow. "Mother, this is Angus Boyd. Captain to the arms at Stormway, among other things, and Lord in the Northern Isles."
Agnus's bushy beard twitched, but he inclined his head respectfully and stepped back. I heard Innis inhale behind me.
"I hope Alex was helpful with your horse," I offered, my voice thin.
Mother ogled, her eyes sweeping between Alex, Angus, and me. I could see the rising barb ready to be unleashed from her sharp tongue in reaction to my title.
"Laird?" She said, her tone low and her blue eyes flashing.
I gestured to Innis, who stepped forward. "Innis McClurkin, lately Laird of Crags Mist. Librarian and legal custodian."
"Per the Island Charter of nine-thirty-five, if an Island or estate is abandoned, any person who has assumed, or was left in control, for five years or more is regarded as Laird by default. This rule has never been struck from the Charter or challenged."
Innis and I shared a tight smile. Her eyes glowed like embers. Her own wrath and resentment simmered under the surface.
No one by my side was in any way ignorant of my family relations. No one in this room had an ounce of loyalty to the woman standing before us.
As if sensing that distrust, Mother took a few steps toward me, closing the distance between us. She pulled me into a tight embrace. "Well! Isn't that a surprise," she said, her voice insincere.
My arms hung limp as I endured the vice-like grip of her hug. My mind was like a black tundra. Nothing to see, nothing to feel. I noticed a trickle of servants had made their way into the hall. They stood in the doorways watching, whispering back and forth. The older ones informing the younger of who had arrived.
After a while, Mother pulled back. "I can't believe how you've grown!"
"I hear that's what happens to children."
She kissed my forehead and released her hold on me at last. Turning to Alex, she said, "As I said earlier, I'm surprised to see you here! A Mainlander living in the Islands in peace."
Alex bristled but recovered, offering a serene smile that did little to thaw the ice in his eyes. "Stormway has always been home. I maintained neutrality in the war because of it." The candor in his voice was so pure I almost wept.
"So you are married, then?" Mother said, turning to me with an arched brow.
I ignored her. "What are you doing here? Where the hell have you been?"
"It's a long story —" she looked around the room. Her eyes were pleading, suggesting that this was not a story to be told in front of the servants. Or the friends that stood at my back.
Bess arrived, Wallis's hand gripped in her own. My sister's face was pale and contorted into a mask of petrified horror. A large kitchen maid, known for having a fearsome temper and a taste for blood sport, angled herself in front of Bess and Walls. She nodded to me, assuring my family's protection from my mother.
"Are we to expect Father and my brothers, too?" I asked.
"I don't think this is the time, Eilean." Mother whispered.
"Laird MacLeod or Lady Eilean," Angus grumbled.
"We discuss such matters openly, now," I said. "Anything you have to say regarding the soldiers of Ellesmure is the business of everyone who lives here. I dare say they suffered enough from your negligence in correspondence."
Mother's face fell, her eyes narrowing. "And I dare say that your tone and manner are most unbecoming."
My cold, unamused laugh bounced around the room. "How typical," I said, rolling my eyes. "I have half a mind to deny you shelter in this castle."
"You presume —"
"I do, Mother. For your mockery. For your abandonment. You did not try to provide information to the women and children and elderly you left behind. You robbed them of their fathers and husbands and sons with no cause and now you waltz in and expect what? Everything to be as you left it? Ladies bowing and scraping at your feet for a chance to sit in your sewing circle? The people in this room suffered. We nearly died. Yet you insult Alex, who has done more to keep this estate afloat than our own family ever did. And you sneer at my allies because they would dare inform you of my rightful position."
Mother took a step back, her mouth going slack.
"You would dare remain silent in the faces of the people in this hall who trusted your husband and have had no information except that the entire MacLeod forces were lost. People who had to watch every other Island regiment return home knowing they would never know what happened to their loved ones."
Mother looked at Alex, fury consuming her face. "You would let her speak to me like this? Comport your woman at once, Lord Leslie!"
Innis scoffed and covered her laugh with a cough. Angus let out a low whistle. The rest of the room shuffled and tittered, a wave of whispers echoing through the hall.
Alex's eyebrows lept off his forehead. He smiled and shook his head. "It's Eilean's castle. What right do I have to interfere?"
Mother gaped at him like a dying trout.
"You must be exhausted from your travels," I said, trying to end this as quickly as possible. "I will send someone to air out your rooms and find a mattress for your bed. For now, you may bathe and have lunch in my chambers." Cutting off the argument and giving orders quieted my nerves. Work, always the work, had been my saving grace.
"My, my, aren't we efficient," Mother said, her eyes glittering with an emotion I couldn't read but did not trust. "Can't I lunch down here with you? We have been apart for so long, daughter. Do I not deserve a meal by your side?"
I smiled but could feel my eyes were lifeless. She would not bait me. "We eat in the kitchens with the servants. You may join us if you wish."
Her posture seemed to collapse, shoulders caving inward.
"It's a rather busy day, I'm afraid. I cannot drop my schedule to squeeze in an impromptu luncheon with you. Alex and I are having lunch with the farmers. We must keep appointments."
"Quite," mother ground out, her jaw jutting forward in annoyance.
"You can trust that my Lady speaks the truth," Angus said, stepping in. He eyed me, and I let him proceed. "As part of my duties, I maintain all correspondence in and out of the castle. Had we known you were coming, we could have made more fitting preparations."
I wanted to roll my eyes at his formality, his soothing tone, but it had the intended effect. Mother relaxed and nodded, placated by the Northerner's natural command of civility — a crucial reason Angus, Calum, and Innis had become so indispensable to me.
"We have dinner together, tonight," I grumbled.
"I shall await our meeting in the comforts of your hospitality," Mother said, her voice saturated in sweetness. "A hot bath sounds like a treat."
Nodding to a maid, I had her escorted out of the hall. As I watched her retreat, a great emptiness opened up inside of me. I let out a long sigh and shook my head, hands on my hips.
"What kind of wretch is not overjoyed to see her long-lost mother? What kind of ass screams at her instead?" I asked.
Innis simpered, smothering a cruel laugh. "Trust me, homecomings are always bad omens. You did fine, considering."
Bess rushed forward, her face blanched and eyes wide. "What is happening?"
"I don't know," I said, rubbing my hands up and down her arms. "But I promise you, Bess. You and Wallis are safe. None of us will let anything bad happen to you. You don't even have to meet with her if you do not wish."
"Thank you," she whispered, tugging Wallis closer to her hip.
Innis scrunched up her face and looked toward the doors at the top of the hall as if she could still see my mother lurking there. "This shouldn't affect the delegation, but to be safe I will go write to Calum this minute."
"Thank you," I said, offering her a genuine smile of appreciation. "And you too, Angus."
"All in my duty, my lady," he said, gruff. "I knew your family was a hard one, but if you don't mind me saying so, your mother seems crafty."
"We will have to watch her, anticipate her if we can." I glowered.
Alex sidled up beside me and draped his arm across my shoulders. He pressed a kiss to my temple. "Don't fret. She was road-weary, and you were in shock. You two can sort it all out during dinner."
I cringed, pulling my shoulders in tight, and groaned. "You'll remember that we were never particularly close."
"She seemed enraged that you would dare call yourself Laird. A charming woman, really," Innis grumbled and then clapped me on the back. "Good luck."
"You're not a child anymore, Eilean," Alex said, his eyes soft. "Stand up for yourself, your people. You have a right to know what happened. Why she is back."
I dropped my head, nodding against his shoulder. "I am so angry," I admitted.
Angus grunted, Innis hummed in agreement.
"Who wouldn't be?" Alex said.