Angus shook his head. “Fate thrust us on paths that none of us were prepared for. We’ve all done our best to make the most out of it, to survive and even thrive. But since the day you were born, Rowan, none of us thought Ruairí or I, or even Rab, would ever be laird. I’ve kept your seat warm, Rowan, until you could take back what is rightly yours.”
“And the clan will have faith in me?” Rowan still struggled to accept that it could be so simple. “I must speak with Caragh before I accept or decline anything. She’d become the clan’s lady. No one ever trained her for that, but Senga was prepared for it. Are you sure, Ruairí?”
“Aye. Senga left that life on purpose. She didn’t want it, and I doubt she’ll chomp at the bit to seize control. But I know she’ll be at Caragh’s side, just as Ma and Aunt Laurel will be, to assist her.”
“I wonder if this is the best time for her to step into the position when she’s expecting our bairn. She didn’t have an easy start to this pregnancy and nearly lost the bairn. I don’t want her overtaxing herself. I’m afraid of losing her.” Rowan admitted his concerns, and it didn’t embarrass him to confess his weakness for his wife. He would always put her first.
“Ruairí is right. The other ladies will help Caragh, but if she ran a smuggling ring, then running a keep may be a far sight easier.” Angus suggested, frowning at Rowan and Ruairí’s peals of laughter.
“I guarantee I’d rather lead a band of pirates, and she’d rather lead men who smuggle, than have to manage a keep full of women.” Rowan pretended to shiver.
“Be that as it may, I suggest you lads speak with your brides and decide before morning. You can bet people will ask about it by the evening meal.”
“Da,” Ruairí grew serious as he looked at his father. “Other than Timothy, who else should we be wary of? Who else should we protect our wives from?”
Angus sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers again before answering. “Auld Michael, Callum, Sheamus, Magnus, and Robert have all gone on to their rewards. Only Timothy and Alexander remain, and Alexander’s been my second since I took over. I have never doubted his fealty to me or to you. He’s come to blows with Timothy more than once over the years, whether it was about you lads or other clan matters. No love’s lost between them. Even Timothy’s wife has questioned Timothy’s role in Donald’s accident. She doesn’t live with him anymore. He struck her one too many times, so I gave her a croft of her own. They never had any children.”
“What of the women?” Rowan asked, still concerned about Caragh.
“They may like to gossip, but there were several unhappy homes for the council members. Their wives didn’t agree with how their husbands tried to control and manipulate me. It didn’t take long for them to see the error in assuming I’d be docile and pliable. The women of the clan have grieved, not only for you both, but how your absence affected Laurel and Charity. It was as though the Laurel we all knew vanished the instant you rode through the gates that day. She was a she-wolf while she defended you and tried to fight for you, Rowan. But once you disappeared, she seemed to shrivel into herself. She wouldn’t leave the keep despite trying several times over the years. She would look out at the bailey, and I’m sure she saw that day all over again. Panic would overtake her, and she’d retire to her chamber for the next few days. Charity only fared better because she had the younger ones to raise.”
“So today truly was the first time Ma left the keep in all these years?” Rowan asked in disbelief.
“It was she who sounded the alarm that you were sailing toward us. She’s wandered the battlements in the early mornings for years now. She says she enjoys seeing the sun rise on another day and how the mist disappears as magically as it appears, but Charity and I ken it’s because she was looking for you. Laurel was yelling your name as she ran through the keep and out to the sea gate. More than one guard had his manhood threatened when they tried to stand in her way. And I never knew Charity could run so quickly. She is fleet footed, that one. She left me behind.”
“Very well, Uncle Angus. I need to speak to Caragh about this, and I want to check on her, anyway. I don’t like her being alone somewhere new, even if this is our new home.”
“The same for Senga,” Ruairí nodded.
Angus walked around the table and pulled his son and nephew into a tight embrace. Rowan and Ruairí returned the hug, and they stood in silence for a long moment as they absorbed the love that had never lapsed. Angus ruffled their hair, just as he had countless times when they were boys. As they left the solar, each man sought his wife.
Chapter Thirty-One
The mood of the evening meal was the opposite of that of the nooning. While earlier people were quiet, casting sidelong glances at the laird’s family, the clan was now ready to celebrate with a feast. It amazed Rowan to witness what the kitchen could produce in such a brief time. He knew his mother and aunt led the charge to create a warm homecoming. A harpist played from beside one of the hearths; children squirmed and squealed on the benches. The hearty laughter from the men filled the air as the women’s voices floated by like a melody.
As servants cleared the food away, Angus stood from his seat. He’d refused to take the laird’s chair, so the clan already suspected the announcement he was about to make.
“MacNeils! Our lads are home once more! We’ve had more than our share of dark days, but we’ve survived and thrived. It’s been an honor to serve as your laird, but we all have always known I was holding Rowan’s place.” Angus raised his mug of ale. “To our rightful laird, Rowan! My son, Ruairí, will serve alongside his cousin as his second. Just as the good Lord always intended. Raise your mugs with me as we cheer Rowan and Ruairí’s return.”
The cheers were deafening as mugs banged on the tabletops, fists pounded the wood, and feet stomped. The enthusiasm stunned Rowan and Ruairí; the clan had welcomed them with few questions about their past. The only awkwardness came when people wanted to know how Rowan and Caragh came to be married. Rowan attempted to protect Caragh from too much scrutiny by avoiding her past as a smuggler, but once that came out, he discovered his clan members respected her even more for her intelligence and bravery. The couple was in agreement that they would bypass how Rowan kidnapped Caragh, rather focusing on Rowan’s intention for her to be his cabin boy when she was dressed as a lad.
Ruairí and Senga found it much easier to tell their story, since it was Ruairí’s bravery and protectiveness that won Senga over. Ruairí and Senga did what they could to steer conversations away from Rowan and Caragh, saving their cousins some embarrassment.
Caragh found her head growing heavy as the evening progressed. The worrying whether her husband would be accepted, along with the overwhelming noise and commotion of the feast, became too much for her. She found herself sagging against Rowan’s shoulder as his hand moved away from her thigh to wrap around her shoulders. He kissed her forehead before murmuring to her.
“Mo Caragh, shall we retire?”
“I don’t want to take you away from your family. This feast is in your honor.” Caragh swallowed a yawn, but she failed to convince Rowan.
“And they’ll be here tomorrow when we awaken. You’re exhausted, and to be honest, I’m weary, too.”
Caragh looked around and found many people were filtering out of the Great Hall in favor of their homes. Senga appeared to be just as tired as Caragh. She nodded, and Rowan drew her chair back, helping her to her feet. Another cheer went up as the MacNeil cousins assisted their wives from the dais.
Once in their chamber, Rowan began loosening the ties to Caragh’s kirtle. While they were staying with Caragh’s family, he’d arranged for a trunk to be sent to his ship. He ordered it brought to the keep once he was convinced they would stay. Once out of her kirtle, Caragh moved to her trunk and held up a nightgown, her eyebrows raised in question.
“No, no one should bother us. You shouldn’t need to wear one whenever I’m home.” Home. The word still had a funny taste on his tongue. He
was unsure how long it would take for the MacNeil stronghold to feel like home once again, but it didn’t feel like a prison or a foreign place. It rested somewhere in between.
“Whenever you’re home? How often will you be away?” Caragh tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the trepidation from her voice. Rowan and Caragh spoke at length after his meeting with Angus. He explained Angus wanted to cede the lairdship to him, and Ruairí didn’t argue for a right to inherit. They discussed both of their duties once Rowan became laird. Caragh knew she could take on the role of lady of the clan, but she wasn’t confident that she would do it well. She knew she would have Senga, Laurel, and Charity to help her, but the thought of Rowan leaving her behind made her stomach twist in knots. Rowan pulled her into his embrace and stroked her hair and the length of her back.
“You know I’m giving the Lady Grace to Keith, so I won’t be sailing the high seas ever again. I may sail among the islands for trade, but even raiding the MacLeods doesn’t appeal to me, not when relations of the laird’s family hail from there. My travels will take me inland to inspect the fields twice a year.” Rowan grimaced, knowing he’d have to repeat the fateful journey that altered his life. There was no avoiding that duty, no matter how much he dreaded it. “I’ll also travel to villages across the island to introduce myself, and get reacquainted with crofters under our protection.”
“Our?” Caragh cut in.
“Of course, ‘our.’ Caragh, you’re my partner in all things. I should have asked your opinion on giving the ship to Keith, but I knew you didn’t want to continue sailing, and I am not willing to be away from you. But in everything going forward, we’re equals. These are our people, and I will seek your advice often. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to think like someone who lives in a village. I need your experience to guide me. And most importantly, I want you to know that you’re valued and needed here. I need you.”
Caragh melted into his arms as she nodded her head. She inhaled his reassuring scent and felt her heart slowing; she hadn’t realized that it was racing. “Will you be safer because it’s only your clan who lives here on Barra?”
“It’s less likely that I’ll go into battle often, but there’s always the chance another clan will attempt a raid. Then I’ll have no choice but to fight.”
“Does that happen often?”
Rowan drew Caragh toward the bed and pulled back the covers, waiting for her to climb in. He went around to his side of the bed, glancing at his sword, reassured that he’d propped it against the table near the head of the bed. It was within his reach should he need it. When he turned to join Caragh, he realized she watched him. He saw her throat bob, but she said nothing. He’d done the same thing in their cabin, his sword never out of his reach. Rowan understood Caragh had hoped there would be few threats now that they were on land, but Rowan accepted that there was no absolute way to prevent danger.
“I don’t think the MacLeods of Lewis will raid us. Even with Senga’s ties to the clan leaders. They haven’t been a menace since my mother came to live here, her marriage brokering a truce. That’s not to say they didn’t harass us on the water. The greater threat comes from the MacLeods of Skye, but they tend to prefer raiding our ships than our land. Barra is a tough place to make a home. The land isn’t suited to crops. That’s why the laird must travel to ensure the crops will be adequate for our clan’s needs. And that’s why we rely on trade so heavily. Few people want to raid the island because there’s so little to gain. They would rather take our ships while we are riding low in the water.”
“So more sea battles.” Caragh’s voice was flat. Rowan pulled Caragh to lie on her side and once more stroked her back.
“There’ll always be that possibility. But I won’t sail if I can avoid it. Neither will Ruairí. Now that we both have a bairn on the way, we want to remain close to our wives. Once upon a time, I thrived on the challenge of sea battles. Now I find I have no taste for it. Being with you and our family is far more important.”
Caragh cupped Rowan’s jaw as she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you so much.”
“And I love you, too.”
Their next kiss morphed into the usual raging fire between them. Rowan rolled onto his back, bringing Caragh with him. They spent the rest of the night showering each other in love and pleasure.
* * *
The next month found Rowan and Caragh easing into their new positions as laird and lady. Most of the clan swore their fealty to the couple without reservation. Only a few of the older members of the clan seemed skeptical and reluctant. Rowan took Caragh on a tour of the surrounding villages, not venturing more than a few hours away from the keep. Until he was confident that he would receive the same warm welcome everywhere, he was unwilling to risk Caragh’s safety.
Rowan also insisted that she ride with him on his horse. Caragh was an accomplished rider, but while she was expecting Rowan refused to agree to her riding alone; he feared the horse throwing her or becoming unmanageable. The resulting argument made the clan aware that their lady wasn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with their laird, gaining her more support and respect. In the privacy of their chamber, it earned her a thorough punishment that was most assuredly not for her pleasure, despite how they made up afterward.
Both settled into their new duties. Caragh relied on the guidance of her mother-by-marriage, aunt-by-marriage, and cousin as she navigated her duties. In particular, she learned to work with the different personalities of the women who served within the keep.
Rowan followed Angus’s lead as responsibility transitioned to him. The lessons he learned when he’d been his father’s heir came back to him with ease, and years of leading his crew made him confident in his decisions. Ruairí was as great a support to him as he’d been when they first escaped the island all those years ago. Rowan trusted his cousin implicitly and never worried that his cousin would usurp his power like Senga’s uncle did to her father. He discovered the new council members supported his leadership and treated him with a respect that was absent when he was growing up. His father’s council looked down at him, teasing him and jeering his opinions. Still holding many of the same opinions as he did then, Rowan found his advisors appreciated and agreed with his decisions and reasoning.
Caragh’s pregnancy became obvious to everyone over the course of that month. Even though she had a slight build, she couldn’t disguise her growing bump. She felt better than she had in the first third of her pregnancy, but she discovered her limitations. She vented her frustrations to Rowan alone, sometimes earning a spanking on purpose, but as her belly grew rounder, Rowan refused to be as stringent as he’d been earlier in their relationship. They settled into their new routine, and Caragh found Rowan was patient and sensitive to her swirling emotions; in turn, she listened and was judicious in her advice. While the events at Bedruthan Steps and aboard their ship weren’t forgotten, their closeness proved that they’d been forgiven. Their trust in each other became rock solid as they relied more upon one another. While Angus and Charity were deeply in love and had formed an iron partnership, only Ruairí and Senga rivaled Rowan’s and Caragh’s devotion to one another, and the clan respected the two couples for it. It built confidence in the clan’s future.
* * *
Standing on the battlements as the sun set, Caragh pulled tighter around her the plaid that Rowan had once hidden in his cabin, having learned how to wear it as an arisaid. Rowan unpinned his own length of plaid from across his chest and wrapped it around Caragh as she leaned against him, his hand resting protectively on her swollen belly. Caragh let her head drop back to rest on his shoulder. They stood in silent companionship as dusk settled over them, enjoying a routine that developed soon after their arrival.
“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of coming up here with you,” Caragh sighed. “Other than our bed, it’s the happiest place I know.”
Rowan’s hand slid down to pinch her bottom. “Cheeky lass.”
“Do you disagree?” Carag
h laughed.
“You know I don’t. I find more peace up here with you than anywhere else I’ve ever been. We never have time alone except in our bed, and that’s hardly a tranquil place.”
“Now who’s being cheeky?”
Rowan leaned forward to kiss Caragh’s temple before she twisted further to capture his lips. Caragh turned in his arms, enjoying that his long arms could still wrap around her, despite the space her belly created between them. Their kiss was passionate, but filled with tenderness rather than need. When they broke apart, Rowan turned them so they could both watch the pink and purple hues as Caragh once more rested her head on his shoulder, now able to listen to his steady heartbeat.
They stood together until the sun slipped below the horizon, leaving the promise of another night of passion and another day of hope. Rowan’s wilder ways had been tamed now that their life was on land. But even though their life was no longer on the sea, Rowan would forever be Caragh’s Blond Devil.
Epilogue
“Edward! If you don’t give your brother his sword back, it shall be me who solves this dispute,” Caragh looked down at her sons, ages seven and five. “Keith’s sword is no better than yours, and you have your own.”
Caragh shifted her three-year-old daughter, Catriona, on her hip. Edward, named for Caragh’s little brother, pouted as he gave his younger brother–named for Rowan’s former first mate–the wooden sword and picked up his own. Caragh kept an eye on the boys as they returned to their play, their argument already forgotten. She swiped the flame-red strands of her daughter’s hair away from the little one’s face. She’d been born with a thatch of deep red hair, and it had been simple for Caragh and Rowan to agree to name her for Caragh’s mother. Caragh kissed the girl’s temple as she grinned. She and Rowan already knew their daughter had a personality that would rival either of her brothers, future warriors though they may be. Caragh often thought their daughter took more after Rowan, but when she voiced this her husband would remind her of how they met.
The Blond Devil of the Sea: The Highland Ladies Book Three Page 21
