An Enemy at the Highland Court: An Enemies to Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 5)

by Celeste Barclay

  “Do the others treat you poorly for allowing Lady Cairren into your home?”

  “The first few days, but I think they rather like listening her to sing to the weans. Other children have asked to come and listen. She never turns them down but always asks permission from me or their mams.”

  “She asks permission?”

  “She says they arenae her weans to do as she pleases.” Meg bit her lip. When Padraig nodded, she invited him inside and shut the door before she continued. “I’ve apologized several times for the unkind things I said to her and aboot her behind her back. She offers a smile and tells me to think naught of it. The kinder and more forgiving she is, the worse I feel. I tried to confess to Father Mitchell, but he said her kind isnae the type of neighbor God intends us to love. That doesnae sit well with me. Padraig, I fear he says that to many people. He’s spreading poison and too many people are still believing him. While her clansmen are here, people are on their best behavior, but I’m scared of what will happen when they leave.”

  “What have you heard people saying?” Padraig forced his tone to remain relaxed and to keep from fisting his hands when what he wanted was to find Father Mitchell and shake him.

  “They’re believing him that she’s bewitched ye with her bed sport. He says that’s the only way ye could have turned away from a woman as pure as Lady Myrna. He says she has the devil in her, and that she canna be a real Christian since her mam grew up with a heretic father. That the heresy is in her blood. I dinna ken how that can be, but people believe him because he reminds them that he’s God’s messenger on Earth.”

  “Those are dangerous ideas he’s spreading, and I won’t stand for them. Thank you for telling me, Meg.”

  “But Padraig, that’s nae all. Lady Mary and Lady Myrna are agreeing with him as though his was the Gospel.”

  “My mother and Lady Myrna? They’re spreading rumors?”

  “I’m sorry to be telling ye this, and I ken I’m speaking out of turn against ma clan’s lady, but Lady Cairren doesnae deserve this. I ken that now. I just wish I had sennights ago. I’ve tried to break people’s belief of the rumors by sharing what she’s done, but a few people have suggested she’s bewitched me too. I canna risk ma weans with people saying that.”

  “I understand, Meg. You’ve done the right thing telling me. Thank you.” Padraig left and made his way back to the keep, mulling over what Meg told him. Nothing contradicted what he knew about each of the people he heard about. He believed Father Mitchell, his mother, and Myrna were continuing their smear campaign, and he believed Cairren was everything Meg described. He just didn’t know what to do to stop them when the hatred outnumbered the good.

  Cairren enjoyed the only pleasant week she’d had since she arrived. She wove and visited Meg in the mornings, then she spent the afternoon with her kinsmen and Alex. Their presence eased her fears when she was in the Great Hall, and it took her mind off the loneliness she’d experienced and that inevitably awaited her when they departed. Padraig was attentive in and out of their bedchamber, and she even allowed herself to consider the chamber theirs despite only referring to it as his. It surprised her that Padraig kept away from Myrna. The woman’s glares intensified, as did her pouts when Padraig was near, so Cairren was confident that Padraig was avoiding Myrna. She just was unconvinced it would last. She was uninterested in playing Myrna’s game of manipulation. If Padraig cared for her, it would be because he came to that conclusion on his own. Cairren wouldn’t pretend to be someone she wasn’t. She left that to Myrna. With guardsmen, albeit Kennedys, finally willing to escort her, she could explore further afield. She paid close attention to where they walked and rode, noting where she believed she could venture alone.

  There was only one thing casting a shadow on Cairren’s temporary happiness. She was worried about Wynda. She wasn’t taking her meals in the Great Hall anymore, claiming that she was busy tending Duncan or too tired and wanted to retire. Cairren suspected the abuse had increased, and Wynda was hiding, so no one saw the aftermath. She’d caught a head cold that passed through the keep, but she struggled to get better, the lack of food and rest wearing her body down. Cairren offered Wynda medicinals, and it was on the morning that Wynda finally agreed that Cairren heard a loud crash as she made her way to Duncan’s chamber. She feared he’d fallen from the bed, but when she rushed into the chamber, she found Wynda sprawled across the floor and Duncan standing over her.

  “Get out, whore,” Duncan demanded.

  “I will not,” Cairren entered the chamber, leaving the door open. “You struck your wife.”

  “The lazy bitch is clumsy. Tripped over her own feet.”

  “Then why are you standing there?”

  “To help her, you simpleton. Now get out,” Duncan demanded once again.

  “I came to give Wynda the medicinals I offered her. That,” Cairren pointed to the gash on Wynda’s temple. “Needs tending. It’s deep.”

  “She’s fine. Leave before I throw you out.”

  Cairren brandished her dirk that she’d started carrying when she arrived at court. She knew she was unlikely to overpower Duncan, but she intended to do as much damage as she could. “I’ll leave, but Wynda comes with me.”

  “Fine. You can both get the bluidy hell out.”

  Cairren reached out her hand, and Wynda skirted around Duncan before the women left. In Wynda’s chamber, Cairren drew a deep breath before looking at Wynda’s face. “This needs stitching.”

  “Nay, just clean it, and I’ll be right as rain.”

  “Nay. You won’t. It’ll get infected. I’m stitching this closed, Wynda.” Cairren went to where she knew Wynda kept her sewing kit. She lit a candle and passed the needle and thread through it several times before cleaning Wynda’s temple. The women sat in silence by the arrow slit while Cairren worked. Wynda barely flinched as Cairren passed the needle through her skin until she had ten clean sutures. Cairren knew Wynda’s lack of reaction came from enduring many injuries at her husband’s hand. “What was he angry aboot?”

  “He didn’t like what they served this morn when he broke his fast.”

  “Didn’t like it? It was the same thing it always is.”

  “Aye. But I suppose that’s not what he wanted.” Wynda glanced at the closed door before looking at Cairren. “You’ve delivered bairns before, haven’t you?”

  “Aye. Plenty while I was still on Kennedy land.”

  “I think I’m carrying again. I’ve missed my courses twice now. Could you examine me?”

  “That’s wonderful news!”

  “Shh! Nay, it’s not. No one can know, in case I lose the bairn again.”

  “But if Duncan keeps beating you, you are likely to lose it. Wouldn’t he stop if he knew?”

  “You’d think, but it’s never made a difference in the past.”

  “But wouldn’t Micheil help you with this? It’s his grandbairn who might be Duncan’s heir.”

  “Duncan has sworn he’ll kill me if I ever tell anyone what happens between us.”

  Cairren swept an assessing look over Wynda. “Did he force you? Is that how he got you with child?”

  Wynda shook her head before lowering it. “I don’t fight him anymore. It’s not worth it.”

  “Och, Wynnie.” Cairren hugged her friend. “Please, let me help you get back to your people. At least to give you a chance to carry this bairn. If Myrna can claim a sickness is keeping her away from her clan, we can come up with a reason for you to return to yours.”

  “I’ll think aboot it,” Wynda conceded. Five minutes later, Cairren confirmed Wynda was carrying and issued her plea again. “Aye. I want to go home now that I know for sure.”

  “We’ll come up with something.” Cairren offered her another hug before she returned to Padraig’s chamber.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  That night, Cairren broached the issue of Wynda with Padraig, careful not to say anything specific until she knew whether he might be an ally.

/>   “Padraig, I’m worried aboot Wynda. She’s not been getting better, and she’s lost significant weight while she’s been tending Duncan.”

  “She’s always been sickly and thin, Ren. I know you want to help her, but I don’t know that there is much to be done. Our previous healer tried,” Padraig said as he unlaced Cairren’s gown.

  “I had to give her stitches today, Padraig. To her face.” Cairren turned around.

  “Aye, she has a habit of being clumsy,” Padraig mused as he tried to work Cairren’s gown over her shoulders, but she crossed her arms.

  “It’s not clumsiness when someone pushes you.”

  “What’re you saying, Cairren? Are you accusing Duncan of hurting her?”

  “It’s not an accusation when it’s true. I heard a crash when I was on my way to give her some medicinals. I thought maybe Duncan had fallen. I entered the chamber and found Wynda on the ground, bleeding, while Duncan stood over her. His hand was raised as if to hit her. She’s struck her face on the corner of the chest. I saw the blood on the wood.”

  “Duncan has a foul temper, which I’m sure is short after a sennight of being stuck in bed. He—”

  “Are you excusing what he did?” Cairren stepped away from Padraig, incredulous at what she was hearing. “You condone men, your own brother, beating their wives? Your brother has a broken jaw because he touched me, but you don’t care that he regularly abuses Wynda?”

  “I didn’t say that. But she is his wife. There is naught anyone can do if he chooses to mistreat her.”

  Cairren stood there aghast. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her opinion of Padraig had improved tremendously over the past sennight, and now it crumbled all over again. She pulled her gown back into place. “You should be ashamed. That’s cowardice and dishonorable, Padraig. I’ve forgiven a lot, but I will not turn a blind eye to refusing to protect the weak. That’s inexcusable.” Cairren walked to the door.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “To sleep in Wynda’s chamber.”

  “Your place is here with me, Cairren.” Padraig stood with his hands on his hips. “I’m your husband.”

  “Isn’t that convenient? I don’t want to look at you, so I definitely don’t want to lie in the same bed as you. I’m telling you, something awful is going to happen to Wynda. And it will be everyone’s fault if it does. Because it means we did naught to protect her. I don’t want that on my conscience, and neither should you.” Cairren yanked the door open and left Padraig staring at the space she had just occupied.

  Cairren hurried along the silent passageway until she reached Wynda’s door. She knocked softly, but when Wynda didn’t answer, she knocked louder. After the third time, she tried the door handle, finding the door unlocked. She entered and screamed, “Padraig! Padraig!”

  Before Cairren, Wynda lay on the bed, her eyes open and unseeing, her mouth open as if she’d been trying to cry out. Cairren ran across the chamber and shook Wynda, but her head lolled to the side. “Padraig!”

  Padraig heard Cairren’s scream as he undressed. He left his plaid behind and ran down the passageway, following Cairren’s voice. His family’s doors opened as he ran past, and his parents and Duncan stepped out of their chambers. He stormed into Wynda’s room to find Cairren sitting on the edge of the bed, holding Wynda’s hand. He’d seen death often enough to know that Wynda was no longer breathing.

  “Cairren?”

  Cairren pointed at Wynda’s neck, and Padraig came closer. Even in the firelight, he could see a livid bruise that went around Wynda’s neck. Someone had choked her.

  “You killed my wife!” Duncan bellowed.

  Padraig spun around and shielded Cairren. “She did not. She just left our chamber, and she told me she was coming here. She didn’t have the time to do that, and she wouldn’t.”

  “Then who did?” Micheil demanded.

  “Her bastard husband,” Daniel announced. Everyone turned to see Daniel, Jamie, and Alex standing in the passageway. Daniel pointed to his son and neighbor before continuing. “We heard a crash this morning as we were making our way to gather our weapons before heading to the lists. We saw Cairren run into Duncan’s chamber and heard the argument. We hurried out of sight when Cairren and Lady Wynda walked out. We wanted to spare the lady the embarrassment of knowing we heard what happened. But all three of us saw blood on Lady Wynda’s face.”

  “He did it out of vengeance,” Jamie spoke up. “We went to speak to him when the women entered Lady Wynda’s chamber. Apparently, he enjoys roughing up women. He warned her that she would pay if we interfered. Now we can see he meant it. We never would have left her unguarded if we thought he were a murderer.”

  “Nonsense,” Micheil decreed. “My son isn’t a murderer. Everyone knows she was clumsy.”

  “Clumsy?” Cairren screeched. “You don’t accidently choke yourself in your own bed. She was carrying a bairn.”

  The chamber went silent as all eyes turned to Cairren. She clung to Padraig, and she hadn’t even noticed he’d wrapped his arm around her. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed, uncaring that the Munros saw her weakness. Her only friend was dead, and she’d done nothing to save her. She was too late.

  “She was with child?” Mary demanded.

  “Aye. I confirmed it today when I examined her. After I stitched her forehead.” Cairren lifted the sleeves of Wynda’s chemise, showing arms mottled with bruises, all clearly fingerprints. “This wasn’t clumsiness.”

  Alex pushed into the room and stood before Cairren and Padraig, but his eyes were only on Cairren’s. “Do all the men in this clan beat their women?”

  “No, Alex. Padraig has never raised a hand to me, and I don’t believe he would,” Cairren murmured before turning back into Padraig’s embrace. “I—I need to prepare her body for—” Cairren couldn’t finish as a sob overcame her.

  “Tell me how I can help, Ren,” Padraig whispered.

  “I can do it myself.”

  “But you don’t have to. Let me help you.”

  “Lady Mary and I will do it. She will not defile this body and keep it from a proper Christian burial,” Lady Myrna’s voice seemed unnaturally loud after Cairren’s soft one. Padraig realized he hadn’t seen her leave her chamber when Duncan and his parents left theirs. He hadn’t seen her until now.

  “Myrna,” Padraig warned.

  “Wynda would have wanted us to do it,” Myrna argued.

  “That’s not true. You and Wynda didn’t get along. I noticed that lately. Wynda and Cairren were friends; besides, Cairren has proven she’s a healer. She says she’s done this before. Cairren will do it, and I will stay.” Padraig’s tone brooked no argument. He could tell his mother didn’t want the task, and neither Duncan nor Micheil seemed to care.

  Cairren waited until everyone filtered out of the chamber before she turned to Padraig and shook her head. “It’s not appropriate for you to be here, but I will accept your help. I should summon maids to assist me, but I want to preserve some of Wynda’s dignity. She would never want people to see what I suspect we will uncover. Please have hot water brought here.”

  While Padraig went to summon a servant to bring buckets of hot water, Cairren set about gathering a fresh chemise and gown along with the soap she’d given Wynda soon after she arrived. Padraig worked silently next to Cairren, doing as she asked while they bathed and dressed Wynda’s body. Cairren styled her hair before they wrapped her in a sheet until a funeral shroud could be found. Padraig couldn’t believe what he saw when Cairren removed Wynda’s chemise. Bruises of varying colors marred his dead sister’s-by-marriage body, and scars crisscrossed her abdomen and back. He watched Cairren work with businesslike efficiency, but tears poured forth the entire time. When they finished, Padraig carried Cairren back to their chamber and held her while they waited for the bath he ordered.

  Padraig washed Cairren’s hair and body as she stared at the flames. He knew she was replaying what she’d seen from the lines etc
hed in her forehead. When he’d rinsed her hair clean, he helped her from the bath, wrapping her robe around her before drawing her back onto his lap as they sat before the fire. Her eyes drifted closed, but her mind remained active.

  “I knew the situation was dire, but I had no idea the abuse was as extensive as it was. What we found shocked me, even though I expected bruises and scars. I don’t know how she survived what she did. Padraig, I was going to help her run away. I wanted her to leave at least long enough to have the bairn. She admitted she lost the others because Duncan beat her. I should have insisted sooner. I didn’t protect her, and yet I stood in judgment of you. I was the coward. I was too involved in my own problems to help my friend. Now she’s dead.”

  “Cairren, you’ve been protecting her since you arrived. I know you didn’t knock that jug over by accident that morning. You did it to distract Duncan and give you an excuse to get Wynda away from him. I know you’ve been doing that by keeping her company in the mornings.”

  “And I’m probably the reason for several of her recent beatings. He probably punished her for being my friend. I was so desperate for company that I didn’t think aboot that. He probably killed her because of me intervening this morning. I didn’t help her. I cost Wynda her life.”

  “You cannot believe that. Wynda was lonely before you arrived, and I’ve known that all along. She tolerated Myrna because I asked her to befriend Myrna years ago. But I’ve noticed they didn’t like each other. I thought it was Wynda’s fault, but I doubt that now. You’re the only genuine friend she’s had since she entered this clan, and she was happier for it. I saw it. She cared for you, Cairren, and she wouldn’t agree with you blaming yourself. You’ve done more to help her than anyone. You would have risked your life to get her away, while I disregarded your concerns. I never imagined it was so bad. I swear I would have intervened if I’d had any idea.”

  “I believe you would have, but she would never have admitted it. Duncan petrified her. He warned her he would kill her if she ever told anyone.” Cairren sighed as she clung to Padraig. “Please don’t let me go. At least, not until I fall asleep.”