How to Marry a Highlander

by Michele Sinclair

  Laurel privately decided that more than just Conor needed to hear her and Adanel’s conversation. Men thought linearly, not emotionally, and almost every decision Adanel had made was based on emotions. Therefore, Laurel had brought her closest friends and the other McTiernay wives to her dayroom to covertly listen, make a decision, and then formulate a plan.

  All had agreed that they needed to know just who Adanel Mackbaythe was—a spy for her father or an innocent who honestly had no idea or part of what happened with the attack on Conor. But what came as a surprise to Laurel was that every single one of her friends also wanted to know exactly what was between Adanel and Dugan. Because it was clear from the cold looks the two of them had repeatedly shared in the great hall that something was behind the nearly tangible tension between them.

  Ellenor and Brighid, who knew Dugan best, without question believed him to be deeply in love. Laurel had not been convinced as he had not asked a single question or said even one word in Adanel’s defense. But when she went back in to see if the lairds had made any progress, she had quickly seen exactly what Ellenor and Brighid had. They were right. Dugan was indeed undeniably in love. He had looked like a man being tortured. Every sharp word, every verbal lashing Adanel had taken, he had felt, maybe more so. But what Laurel could not discern was if Adanel felt the same about Dugan. That was why she arranged for all her friends to listen in her dayroom to see if their conclusions aligned.

  “Could you hear our conversation adequately?”

  A large, robust woman with wild red-and-gray hair slapped her knee and gave Laurel a wink. “Every word. I dinnae think any of us are wondering if the fire has dimmed in the bedroom for ye and the laird any.”

  Laurel rolled her eyes. She should have known this would happen. “Did you really need to listen to me and Conor to know that, Hagatha? I would have thought you—as a midwife who just helped to deliver my fourth child—knew where babies came from.”

  “Dinnae get cheeky with me. I’m just saying ’tis good to hear ye two at it again.”

  Laurel suppressed a groan and sat down in the chair Makenna vacated for her. She knew Hagatha was just trying to lighten the mood. Hearing her talk about Brion had reminded all in the room about the dangers of labor. Out of the twelve of them, half were pregnant. She had just given birth and Hagatha had long ago passed her childbearing years. Her friend Maegan was not even married, Rowena was busy supporting her husband Cyric and his politics at court, and Brighid was just glad that she was for once not pregnant with another boy. Mhàiri, who’s wedding to Conan two weeks ago had brought them all together, might have been pregnant, but it was too soon to tell.

  “Anyone else more interested in my and Adanel’s conversation?” Seeing she finally had their attention, Laurel asked once again, “So, ladies, did we learn what we needed to know?”

  Ellenor waved her hand conclusively. “It is as I said earlier. Adanel loves him. And what’s more, Dugan loves her with everything he is. He was quiet because he was hurting. He truly feels betrayed, and with his family history, that it is a deep wound she tore open. He is just reacting accordingly.”

  Crevan’s wife Raelynd absentmindedly rubbed her stomach with one hand and tapped her chin with the other. “I’m not convinced Adanel does love him though. She cared for him at one time, aye, but she never admitted to loving him then or now. Just this Daniel, and . . . well . . . I mean after seeing his death, it could be she is too afraid to fall in love.”

  Married to one of the McTiernay twins, Raelynd tended to see the world plainly and was not easily persuaded by nuances and unspoken emotions. Laurel could not wait to see how she adjusted her black-and-white judgmental tendencies after the birth of her first child. And yet, once Raelynd believed in someone, there was no more loyal a friend.

  “I don’t know how we are sisters sometimes let alone twins,” Meriel said with a sigh, shaking her head. “Ellenor is absolutely right. Those two are unquestionably deeply in love.”

  Makenna, Colin’s bold and unpredictable wife, winced. “And unquestionably angry with the other. And not the good kind of anger where making up makes it all worthwhile. Their anger is the kind that destroys love.”

  Laurel nodded. “I saw that as well. Love can only suffer so much pain before it breaks and dies.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if that hasn’t already happened,” Mairead grumbled, and despite being pregnant and promising her husband that she would stay off her feet, began to pace. “I don’t care how much I love Hamish. If he sat there like a stone while hateful questions were being launched at me, we would be done.” Her hand sliced through the air. “No sweet words or apologies could make me forget that.”

  “So, is that it? We do nothing to help them get past this despite knowing that we all”—Meriel moved her finger in a circle—“needed a bit of help to come together with our men? Just like us, Dugan and Adanel have strong personalities and—”

  “—aye, did you see how Adanel’s got stronger with every question?” her sister Raelynd popped in.

  “—and that makes for strong marriages,” Meriel continued. “I say they just need a similar nudge.”

  “They are going to need a whole lot more than a nudge,” Mhàiri cautioned, biting her bottom lip. “I know that I just married Conan and joined this group, but while you were up here talking with Adanel, Dugan was in the great hall talking.”

  Rowena nodded. She and Mhàiri had decided at least a couple of them needed to know what was being said after Adanel had left. Living with her husband Cyric in the middle of King Robert’s very political court had taught her that information was always best when learned firsthand. Husbands tended to filter, often unintentionally, the most important points. “After Adanel left, Mhàiri and I heard Dugan’s account. He was devoid of emotion and spoke of their relationship as if it was a series of facts.”

  “Which told us that his feelings were very much involved,” Mhàiri added. “Only a broken heart can make a person that cold and angry.”

  Brighid sighed. “I heard him talking with Donald and Cole last night, and while I love Dugan dearly, he is acting as if he is the only one hurting and that his pain in some twisted way supersedes, or even negates, what Adanel has suffered.”

  “Today, during the questioning, he was so quiet.” Maegan, the youngest of the group, had been physically bothered by Dugan’s aloofness. “He looked . . . I don’t know . . . guilty?”

  Makenna began to bob her head along with her finger. “That’s exactly what he looked like. Guilty. He knew what was being said was wrong and did nothing to stop it. I did not pick up on it at first, but by the end, he was so uncomfortable sitting there that watching him made me feel uncomfortable.”

  “I don’t think Adanel is going to forgive him for just sitting there like that,” Maegan said with a shake to her head. “I don’t know that I would.”

  “Aye,” Mairead sighed in agreement. “That woman is not the kind to just take abuse and keep coming back for more. I know I wouldn’t. I’d walk away and not look back.” She looked at Ellenor and gave her a small shrug. “I’m on Adanel’s side.”

  Ellenor waved her hands and shook her head. “I think we can all agree that Dugan was a toll-tòine today, but he does love Adanel and everything that I heard her say to Laurel makes me believe she still loves him as well.” She looked around the room. “Can we at least agree on that?”

  Aileen sighed. She was Laurel’s closest friend and usually the first to give someone the benefit of the doubt, but she was struggling. “All of us are supporters of love and playing the matchmaker of bringing two people together. But loving someone does not give them the right to heedlessly inflict pain. There is always a price to pay, and I’m afraid that it might be too large a price for Dugan and Adanel to be together.”

  “It makes me sad,” Rowena said softly. “I wish things could have worked out differently for them for I expect Adanel would have kept Dugan on his toes. He needs someone like that.”

>   “What are you all saying?” Brighid shouted. “We have known Dugan for years, and he has not once let a woman in. He even keeps those he is closest with at a distance. I am not going to let us consider the option of just walking away. If that happens, he will lose his first and probably only chance at love.”

  “I have to agree with Brighid,” Ellenor piped in. “If Dugan lets Adanel go, he will make the mistake of seeking and marrying her complete opposite. Imagine having someone who is timid and overly amenable in this room.”

  Hagatha snorted. “She’d get eaten up alive.”

  “I don’t like the idea of a man marrying me just because I’m the opposite of someone he deep down loves,” Maegan said, advocating for the potential victim should that happen.

  Mairead stopped pacing. “Well, I like Adanel. All she was doing was fighting the best way she knew how—which is something I am very familiar with. Aye, she knew she was hurting Dugan by keeping the truth from him, but she honestly thought he would understand in the end. And you know what? If any one of us had been in her position, we probably would have made similar decisions.”

  “She feels alone,” Makenna said. “I don’t want her to feel that way. Because she is not.”

  “So, we have decided they love each other and that we are going to at least try and help them get together.” Raelynd looked around the room and saw nodding heads. “The next question then is how? Exactly how are we going to persuade those two stubborn people to just let go of their anger and be happy together. Because Mhàiri’s right. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than a nudge.”

  Laurel rose to her feet and went to the window. Down below she could see Conor and his brothers mounting their horses to go meet the laird who had unwittingly ended the future of his clan. She knew Conor would be fine. He had not just the McTiernay army behind him, but the armies of at least a dozen lairds. But upon victory, decisions will be made. Decisions that affected so many lives, most of whom did not live here. A clan was about to cease to exist and its clansmen had no idea. What was to become of them? It was a disturbing question, but it had a potentially interesting answer.

  “Ladies, Laird Mackbaythe has arrived and the men are riding out to greet him.”

  Shocked looks overtook their faces. Makenna’s jaw flinched as she stood up and went over to confirm what Laurel had just said. Seeing the back of her husband’s head as he rode out the gate, she grumbled a warning. “Be prepared for yelling tonight, ladies, because Colin is going to be reminded that wives do not like being told about battles after the fact.”

  Laurel shook her head. “I don’t think there is going to be one. I thought so at first, but Conor acts differently when he is going into battle. I should have realized it days ago after he had spoken with Dugan privately.”

  “What did Dugan say?” The question had come from Aileen, but it was the one everyone was thinking.

  “In essence, not much more than you already know. The only thing Conor did tell me was that there was a well-thought-out reason behind everything Dugan did. I did not think much about it at the time, but I should have. From the moment Dugan left to chase after Conor’s attacker, his plan had been to entice Mackbaythe to come down here.” Laurel also suspected Dugan had always intended to get Adanel. “He knew what would happen if the McTiernays rode north. An entire clan would be wiped out, but not if Mackbaythe came here.”

  “What about Laird MacCoinnich?” Brighid asked. Her husband Donald was one of Cole’s commanders. If there was going to be fighting, he would be at the front, leading Cole’s men. “We all know he is not coming to fight for Mackbaythe, but is coming to bring Adanel back with him so that she can marry his son.”

  Mairead clucked her tongue. “MacCoinnich certainly did not bring his army all this way just to leave empty-handed.”

  “He’s coming because he doesn’t know,” Laurel said softly, looking back out the window, imagining what was happening. “Laird MacCoinnich doesn’t know why Adanel was taken or even what he is about to face. When he does, he might just turn around and leave.”

  “Or he could fight,” Hagatha cautioned. “Many men have fought over a woman.”

  Raelynd’s brows furrowed. “He’s about to face half of Scotland. Does Laird MacCoinnich really think Conor will let Adanel marry his son so he can take over the port? Conor is going to want more than just Mackbaythe’s head. I’m thinking Cole is about to be tasked with managing a port and enfolding another leaderless clan into his masses.”

  Laurel turned around and, with a knowing, mischievous smile, said, “Raelynd, you are a genius. And, ladies, I think I know of a way where we can give Dugan and Adanel the nudge they need.”

  Chapter Nine

  Dugan studied the army-covered valley in front of him. If there was going to be a battle, it would be a large bloody one and it would take place in this normally peaceful valley. Today was a first. No enemy to the McTiernays had ever ridden onto their land with the intent to cause them harm. And Dugan had purposely made it happen.

  He urged his horse into a trot and rode silently out to help greet the two men he had driven south. One would meet his death, and the other would discover the real reason why his son would have to find a new bride to marry.

  Conor McTiernay was leading the charge with his brothers right behind him. The only McTiernay missing was Clyde, the youngest brother who had been fighting the English all over Scotland since his youth, and though Cole never said so aloud, he feared his little brother was now fighting demons that would prevent him from ever returning home.

  Each McTiernay chieftain had their commanders with them, but no one else. Their combined McTiernay armies, their allies, and all their men remained behind, waiting on the other side of the valley for a sign of peace or a sign of war. God help them all if it was the latter. The battle would not be some skirmish discussed anecdotally over dinner. It would affect clans everywhere, changing political balances, alliances, and even Scotland’s overall strength to fight against England and be declared independent.

  Dugan had gambled much knowing MacCoinnich would ride with Mackbaythe, never knowing that Conor had lived. But even if he had died, today’s outcome would be the same for while Mackbaythe was a fool, MacCoinnich was not. The moment he realized that Eògan’s attack happened on the evening of Conan’s wedding where every ally and friend was present, MacCoinnich would step away and let justice be served. Bringing both lairds south was the surest way to prevent a long battle and innocent bloodshed.

  The only thing Dugan had not anticipated was Adanel.

  Despite what he said or what others thought, he never could reconcile the woman he knew last summer with someone who could help plan and enact such an attack. He had not initially thought to even see Adanel let alone bring her back with him, but once he had made the decision, nothing would have changed his mind. She could have pulled the pillow free from her bliaut in her tower room and he would have still brought her with him. He had needed answers. Why had she betrayed him? Why had she lied? Why had she played him for a fool? And now that he had those answers he was at a loss as to what to do next.

  Since he had discovered the truth about her identity, his thinking had been based on a certain set of facts. And while she had added some unexpected context, it was not enough to dismiss all the anger and hurt he had been feeling for months. The fact that she had lied and initially thought to use him remained, and therefore so did the resentment and pain. Unfortunately, seeing and hearing Adanel only added to his agony.

  It never occurred to him that she had been hurting as well and that her anger and anguish was every bit as acute as his. And while Dugan understood her every justification, every reason, every excuse, he just could not get past that she had intentionally deceived him.

  Granted he had mistakenly thought her deceit had been maliciously derived. It had not. He believed that now. But still, Adanel had not trusted him. She was the one who failed to trust him first.

  He knew Adanel had expect
ed him to say something during her questioning. He would have had there been a true need or had she been in danger, but it was her decisions that led to her being in that room and those questions being asked. Dugan refused to fight her battles, and in the end he had not needed to. His aithinne showed every man and woman in that room she was capable of defending both herself and her friends.

  It was not until the very end that he had second thoughts about his staying silent. “My guards and my people, however, are not to be blamed for his actions,” Adanel had said. She had not been just defending herself, but those who she thought were being unjustly judged. He had made her fight her battles alone, but she had not just fought for herself, but also for Faden, her guards, and her entire clan.

  At that moment, he knew he had done wrong. Aye, Adanel could speak for herself, but she should not have had to, especially to people he knew were incorrectly prejudiced against her. But it was too late now and the cold look of loathing in her eyes when she had left made it clear that there was nothing he could say she would want to hear. Dugan had had his chance to speak. It was gone, and so was any hope that they might have a future.

  “No need to ask which one is Mackbaythe,” Cole murmured.

  Mackbaythe and MacCoinnich were riding out to meet them, and they, too, were not alone. Dugan counted eight commanders in addition to Mackbaythe, MacCoinnich, and MacCoinnich’s son, Daeron. Both lairds were easily spotted among them and stood out.

  MacCoinnich held himself as a man with great power and great responsibility. He knew what it meant if war between his clan and the McTiernays broke out today. He did not want it. The cost to Scotland and his people would be enormous, but to not make a stand would have made him appear weak and vulnerable.

  Age alone made Daeron MacCoinnich recognizable. At eighteen, it mattered little that next to Conan, he was probably the smartest of all in that valley. But he lacked experience to know what to do with the knowledge, and worse, he lacked control.