Highland Vengeance

Chapter 30

In the days that followed, I prepared to leave Madelaine. I tried not to mope, especially when I realized that Ute looked even more distressed than me. I was just finishing up packing the last of my new dresses—another haul of gifts from Madelaine—when Ute finally said what she’d been dancing around for days.

“My lady,” she began, her voice cracking. “I…have something to ask of you.”

She had just closed the bag containing Lulach’s belongings.

I turned and looked at her. Huge tears hung on her lower lids.

“What is it, Ute? What’s the matter?”

“My lady, if she will have me, I would like to stay on with Lady Madelaine. The staff here is all very kind, and they speak well of your aunt and the Thane of Fife.”

I stared at her.

“It’s not anything against you, Gruoch. God knows I will miss Lulach more than I can stand. I just… I don’t want to return to Inverness.”

I crossed the room and took her hand. “Some ill deed was done to you in my house, wasn’t it? The child? Is that why?”

“I don’t want to discuss it. I beg you to forgive me, but please, let me stay.”

“Ute,” I said, feeling my heart beat hard. Unbidden, I heard the beating wings of the raven. I closed my eyes, seeking to control the rage. “You must tell me who harmed you. They must pay for what they’ve done.”

Ute turned away. “My lady, I am sorry, but I will not name the man. Perhaps there was some misunderstanding between us. I… I’m not sure. My mind is so confused about it. Please forgive me, but I would like to stay here, if you will allow it.”

I reined in my anger. It would not serve me here, especially if Ute had chosen not to speak of it. “Lulach will miss you terribly.”

“I know. And I him.”

I sighed. “Madelaine will treat you well. I’ll talk to her.”

“Thank you, Gruoch,” Ute said, wiping her cheeks.

I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her from behind. I left her then to seek out Madelaine who was in her own chambers playing with Lulach. The moment I walked into the room, Madelaine’s cheerful expression faded.

“What’s wrong, Corbie?”

“Ute would like to stay with you. Will that be all right?”

Madelaine scrunched up her face. “Did you quarrel?”

“No. There has been some trouble with a man at court. She won’t name him, but she doesn’t want to return.”

“I see,” Madelaine said, and there was an edge to Madelaine’s voice. Given the way Allister kept his household, I was sure Madelaine understood very well.

“She is a very loyal and skilled maid. Gillacoemgain employed her for me. She’ll serve you well, if you’ll have her.”

“Of course. I always liked the girl.”

I smiled at Madelaine. “I’ll let her know.”

“And what will you do now?”

“I’ll return north. To Cawdor.”

“To Cawdor?”

I nodded. “Macbeth and I cannot find our way together. He’s a complicated man. I excused his roughness at first, thinking he was just courtly in his manner, but no more.”

“Roughness? Has he harmed you?”

What Madelaine was really asking as if he had struck me, hurt me. He had not, but every time I left my marriage bed, I felt ill-used. Was a woman supposed to feel like that after making love to her husband? It had not been that way with Gillacoemgain. Suddenly, I felt ashamed. How could I explain such a thing to Madelaine?

“No. But he’s ill-tempered in a way that is unbearable. Sunshine in the morning and thunderstorms by nightfall. When he remembers I exist.”

Madelaine pursed her lips together as she mused over the problem. “A streak of madness?” she finally asked.

I looked toward the fireplace. The small flames inside burned cheerfully, the wood crackling. I had given Macbeth a chance. I had opened my heart to him all based on some visions. But Epona was right. Andraste liked to play. Maybe I should not have been so generous toward Macbeth. Macbeth’s distempers did smack of madness. “Perhaps.”

She frowned. “And they called Gillacoemgain the mad one, but I think you loved him.”

“I did. He was not mad. He was a good man.”

“And made such a beautiful child,” she said, lifting Lulach. “Children.”

“Children.”

“Go to Cawdor then. Perhaps Macbeth needs a reminder of who you are. We are the blood of MacAlpin’s line and not to be trifled with. Macbeth must learn to control himself. Given his whispered aspirations, he’s going to need your help.”

“Yes.”

Madelaine kissed Lulach. “And you, my boy, will one day be King of Scotland. You will rule well and treat your wife kindly. Do you understand?”

Lulach nodded then giggled.

I smiled at them, my heart filled with joy at the sight.

But also sorrow.

It was time to go.