He and Raelynd needed to remember that for the next month she was Craig’s intended. After the month was over, she would leave and Crevan would make sure they would not see each other again until she was safely ensconced in marriage—to someone else.
Taking a step forward, Raelynd reached up and gave him a soft, petal-like kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered with sincerity, and turned to leave.
When Crevan had first denied her request, the thought that maybe he was not very experienced had crossed her mind. With the exception of her sister, Raelynd could not remember seeing him in the company of a woman. Dar Dia! Had she been wrong. Crevan McTiernay may have been obstinate and the most aggravating of all the male species, but the one thing he could definitely do was kiss. Craig was the one who needed lessons. Thank goodness her engagement to him was a farce. After kissing Crevan, the idea of sharing anything physical with his brother turned Raelynd’s stomach. Crevan, however . . . She would kiss him again right now if he asked her.
Raelynd entered the campsite. Her sister and Craig were still asleep, unaware of anyone’s absence. She was about to lie down when she glimpsed Crevan’s empty plaid and a frisson of panic went up her spine. She had a burning desire, an aching need, for not just another kiss, but to be with Crevan. Talk to him and have him talk to her. She had called him a friend but what she was feeling was much more than that.
She could not actually like him . . . could she?
Chapter 7
Raelynd signaled her horse to move up in between Crevan and Craig to get a better look at her host and hostess for the next month. The morning had been quiet since Meriel had paired up with Crevan and she with Craig. Raelynd had been wondering how the month would be living in the McTiernay Castle. She had briefly met Lady McTiernay a few times, and knew only that the woman was very beautiful and that her father thought highly of her. As a result, Raelynd had assumed Laurel would be mild mannered, for her father disliked women who did not respect him or refused to acquiesce to his being in charge. So when the four of them passed through the McTiernay Castle gatehouse, Raelynd had not expected the lively scene taking place in the middle of the courtyard.
“Make your choice, my love,” Laurel demanded, uncaring if her voice carried very far or what such a threat might sound like to those who could hear her. Her long wavy pale gold hair hung loose down her back, elongating her already tall, slender frame. “You either talk right now, here in this bailey, or in an hour in our chambers. But you will explain to me what is really going on.”
Both Raelynd’s and Meriel’s eyes popped wide open. Neither of them doubted the honesty behind the threat. If the laird did not arrive in their chambers in an hour, Lady McTiernay was undoubtedly going to find him. They glanced around to the clansmen entering and exiting various buildings. All continued to work as if the spectacle of the laird and his lady publicly butting heads was commonplace.
Raelynd leaned toward Crevan and in a hushed tone asked, “Are they actually fighting?”
“Aye.”
“Shouldn’t we do something?” Raelynd asked, clearly concerned for the welfare of Laurel after speaking such a way to not just the laird, but a man far bigger than her.
“Na. Only Conor is fool enough to tangle with Laurel.”
“Are you frightened of her?” Raelynd challenged, testing to see if Crevan was really serious.
“Sometimes,” he admitted.
“Do they even know we are here?” Meriel asked, clearly as mystified as her sister.
“Certainly,” Crevan replied, completely relaxed and unmoved by the scene.
Raelynd forced herself to stop staring at the arguing couple and looked at Craig and then Crevan. Neither seemed bothered by the heated argument taking place across the courtyard, which only confused her further, for the fierce love between Laird and Lady McTiernay was known throughout the western Highlands. “This cannot be good. Maybe we should leave.”
Crevan shook his head and explained, “What you are seeing is far from strange. If they weren’t fighting, then Craig and I would be concerned.”
Meriel, who had finally gotten her mare to stop beside Craig’s horse, gave voice to the other question on Raelynd’s mind. “What could they be arguing about? I mean the laird only arrived this morning.”
“Most likely it is about us,” Craig answered nonchalantly.
Seeing that Craig’s explanation only further puzzled Raelynd, Crevan added, “Craig is probably right. My guess is that Laurel doesn’t believe w-w-we f-fell in love and w-w-wants to know w-what really is happening.”
“She isn’t the only one,” Raelynd whispered.
“But why would Lady McTiernay not believe the news before even meeting with us?” Meriel innocently posed.
“Lots of reasons,” Craig answered. “Including the one that just a few weeks ago Crevan and I came back for a short visit and neither of us mentioned you or your sister. Laurel is not going to be easily convinced that anyone—in particular you two, whom we have been in company with for months—suddenly caught our attention. Especially after we have stated for years that marriage was not in either of our near futures.”
“W-w-watch,” Crevan said, pointing his finger at the still quarreling couple. “See how Conor just tucked his hands underneath his arms?” Raelynd nodded. “That means it is almost over. Laurel w-w-will attempt to get the truth from o-one of us next.”
Meriel leaned forward so that she could see her three companions and asked, “Should we tell her? I mean, if she already suspects the truth, how are we going to convince her and everyone else otherwise?”
“No, absolutely not,” Craig quickly countered, knowing that neither Meriel nor Raelynd knew the real risk they faced. “Promise me, Meriel, that you won’t say a word.”
Meriel looked at Craig intensely, eventually nodding in agreement.
Crevan, still concerned because he knew how crafty his sister-in-law could be, said, “Laurel can be quite tricky w-w-when she w-wants something, so be careful.”
Somehow, they needed to convince Laurel that there was going to be a wedding. Almost victim to an arranged marriage herself, everyone knew Lady McTiernay’s feelings about nuptials that were not based on love. If Laurel discovered their wedding was a farce, there was a good chance she would explode, spreading the truth way beyond the McTiernay borders.
Hearing the almost ominous tone in Crevan’s voice, Raelynd was now absolutely convinced the situation she and her sister were in was far more serious than she had been told. “We will,” Raelynd assured Crevan. “All will believe our nuptials are going to take place.”
I also vow that at the first opportunity I have, I am going to find you, Crevan McTiernay, and demand to know what is going on. Crevan was going to explain just why she and her sister were at risk and how pretending to get married was the only solution—for though it sounded preposterous, Raelynd was sure there were no other options. For if there were, she doubted either McTiernay would pretend he was willing to relinquish his freedom.
The four of them slipped off their horses and began to make their way to the stables. They did not get very far before Laurel glared one last time at her husband, clearly frustrated, and then pasted on a bright smile before going to welcome her guests. Such sudden cheeriness made Craig and Crevan uneasy, mostly because it seemed sincere. Laurel’s earnest smile meant she had a plan, but before they could warn either Raelynd or Meriel, they were both being hugged warmly. At the same time, Laurel’s blue gray eyes were issuing Crevan and Craig an unmistakable message to stay quiet.
“I must admit to being surprised by Conor’s news of your upcoming nuptials, but I am also very excited at the prospect of adding two more sisters to our family,” Laurel said almost too gleefully, clasping Raelynd’s and Meriel’s hands in hers. “We never did truly have a chance to talk during one of my short visits to your home. But now, with a month to prepare, we will finally have the opportunity to get to know each other better.”
C
raig took a deep breath and exhaled, knowing that any control he had had concerning his future during the next month had ended the moment they entered the courtyard. Whatever Laurel was planning could no longer be stopped. He started backing up slowly in an effort to slip away unnoticed, but Laurel quickly snatched his arm, halting his departure.
Turning toward him, she issued Craig and then Crevan a radiant smile, sending chills up both men’s spines. Too many times had they been on the receiving end of such cheerfulness, and it was never to their benefit. “Before you both leave, please gather your intended’s belongings and put them in your own bedchambers.”
Crevan felt his jaw drop and was fairly positive that Craig was in a similar state of shock.
Laurel cocked her head, feigning surprise by their reaction. “I was not prepared for guests and I am reluctant to rearrange the children’s bedchambers. But since you will be sharing much more than a room in less than a month, it only makes sense for Meriel to sleep in your bed, Crevan, and for Raelynd to stay in Craig’s.”
“But where are we to sleep?” Craig blurted out.
“Why, in the Warden’s Tower with the guards or in the fields with the rest of the bachelor soldiers.”
A picture of neat and tidy Raelynd cleaning his comfortable, well lived-in room leaped into Craig’s mind. “What about Clyde’s room?” he immediately suggested, knowing his youngest brother was in the Lowlands training with Colin. “It might be more appropriate and they could stay together!”
A loud, grating cackle silenced the group. Conor, who had been listening as his younger brothers became more and more intertwined in one of Laurel’s creative plans, did nothing to suppress his laughter. It was not a very brotherly or supportive reaction, but he could not help himself. He absolutely loved it when someone besides him experienced his wife’s conniving ways.
Conor, knowing that Laurel was only just getting started, was not about to get entangled into her plan by the sheer folly of being present. He pivoted toward the Lower Hall and was starting to walk away when she called out to him, “I remind you, my love, that we have a meeting to finish our discussion in one hour and you better be armed with better explanations.”
Conor, still heading to the Hall where he hoped to find some food and drink, waved his hand and let go another cackle. “I just hope you can be happy when you find only me, because, oh lovely wife, my answers shall be the same.”
Laurel exhaled, indicating her exasperation, but quickly turned to address Craig’s question. Before she could, however, Crevan issued her a stern look and said, “No o-o-one, especially my intended, is going to step foot in my room, let alone sleep in it. My things are in order, just the w-w-way I like them, and I w-want them to stay that w-way.”
Craig immediately echoed his brother’s sentiments. “Trust me, Raelynd doesn’t want to stay in my room. That is if you kept your promise.”
Soon after Laurel had arrived at McTiernay Castle, she had begun ensuring things ran properly. One of those responsibilities was the upkeep of the laird’s and his family’s bedchambers. Upon seeing Craig’s room, she had issued him an ultimatum—help keep his room clean or live with the consequences. No longer were the servants going to spend hours picking up his stuff. Naive to her habit of mischievous means to gain her way, Craig had shrugged and quipped back, “Order is Crevan’s thing, not mine. I don’t care if anyone picks up after me. My room is messy, not filthy, and I like it that way. Everything is where I can see it.” Over time, they had developed a compromise. Servants were allowed to clean just enough to prevent rodents from cohabitating with him, he was to bring his dirty clothes to the laundress once a week, and she would never attempt to straighten his room.
Laurel stared directly at Craig. “I assure you, everything is as you last left it.” She then shifted her steady gaze to Crevan.
Raelynd felt ridiculous being talked about as she stood there and was about to agree to Craig’s suggestion of Clyde’s room, when Laurel raised her hand and Raelynd found herself closing her mouth without uttering a word. Crevan had been right. Laurel held herself with confidence, not letting the large size of her brothers and husband intimidate her.
“If you really feel strongly about your rooms,” Laurel continued, “then I suggest you both go and find some men to marry and act like ladies of the castle somewhere else. There is already a lady of this castle, and I determine who stays where.”
“I’m going to get Conor!” Craig bellowed, forgetting that Laurel had many ways of making someone see reason.
“Are you sure you want to involve your brother?” Laurel posed, crossing her arms loosely.
Crevan narrowed his eyes, clearly angry over the situation for apparently he knew Laurel had the upper hand. If either he or Craig asked Conor to intervene, regret would immediately follow. Based on experience, Conor would intercede, but in a way that was not in their favor just to teach them a lesson about ever asking him to interfere with Laurel’s decisions on such petty matters.
Craig closed his mouth and shook his head. He had only crossed Laurel once and he had no idea how she did it, but he had suddenly found himself with exceedingly uncomfortable bedding and his clothes had mysteriously caused him to itch, among several other clever and very unnerving things. All of them were deviously petty, preventing him from complaining to Conor without coming off as weak and soft. The day his bedding returned to its comfortable state and his skin no longer burned from constant scratching, he had thanked God and sworn never to cross Laurel again.
Looking at both Crevan and Craig and seeing their acquiescence, Laurel smiled and said, “Now that we have that settled, why don’t you both join Conor and your nieces and nephew in the Lower Hall once you have finished dropping off your soon-to-be-brides’ things in your rooms.”
Both men grunted hearing her say soon-to-be-bride in an overly happy tone. Crevan just wanted to end the torture. He snatched a last glimpse of Raelynd and grabbed his and her belongings while Craig went to get Meriel’s heavy bags from both her and Raelynd’s horses.
Laurel watched them leave and wondered just who was supposed to be marrying whom. Neither man seemed aware that he was carrying the items of his brother’s future spouse.
Still pondering what she had witnessed, Laurel pointed to the Great Hall. “Come, let us go sit down. Over refreshments and food you can tell me just what is really going on.”
Raelynd heard Laurel, but her mind was still reeling from what she had just witnessed. “How did you do that?” she finally managed to get out.
Laurel looked at her and blinked innocently. “Do what?”
“That!” Raelynd repeated, pointing at the two figures entering the large tower to the right. “No one ever gets Crevan . . . I mean Craig, to change his mind.”
Meriel nodded her head in agreement. “I was sure you were going to lose that battle.”
Laurel sighed, realizing another one of her instincts had been right. Not only was something highly suspicious about the supposed upcoming wedding, but both girls had much to learn. They had been sheltered not just by their father, but by circumstances. Laurel was painfully aware of not just what happened, but what didn’t happen, when one lost a mother. These girls needed more than help preparing for a wedding, they desperately needed guidance. For a beautiful body did not make a woman and it especially did not prepare someone to be a wife.
Laurel gave Raelynd a mischievous smile and shrugged. “I did it with practice, of course. Don’t worry. You both have a full month to learn the art of dealing with men . . . or should I say dealing with husbands.”
Seeing Raelynd’s and Meriel’s faces blanch confirmed Laurel’s doubts. Neither of them really wanted to be married or more importantly, thought they were getting married in a month.
So why was Conor so emphatic for her to do whatever she could to prepare for a wedding?
All three women gathered around the end of the Great Hall table where Laurel asked a nearby servant to bring out a small tray of food
. The noon meal had already been served, but Laurel knew that after traveling, she was always ravenous, wanting anything to eat and drink besides water and bread.
“This is wonderful,” Meriel said, licking her fingertips as the last of the meat was devoured.
“Aye,” Raelynd concurred. “Could you please ask them to bring some more?”
“I can only offer you some more bread,” Laurel answered, pointing at the half-eaten mound still on the tray. “We are having a celebratory feast for dinner this evening—a small one since I received such late notice—but even so, the cooks are busy and unable to prepare anything else.”
Meriel sat back, slightly slumped, satisfied by the meager fare. “That sounds wonderful! I love festivities. I hope we have one every night,” she exclaimed, uncaring of the work and time that went into such affairs.
Raelynd, however, believed as guests, they should have been treated better and given more food when asked. “At Caireoch, a visitor’s comfort is more important than that of a few servants,” she mumbled.
Laurel pasted on a friendly smile and said quietly, without any perceived animosity, “Well, I hope for your sake that you might feel differently someday.”
Meriel, an innate peacemaker, tried to veer the conversation to happy topics. “Thank you so much for helping us prepare for our wedding. I cannot wait to begin working on my dress.”
Laurel heard the subtle plea to change subjects but refused to be easily manipulated. “I love Craig and Crevan very much. They are my family and nothing is more important than those close to me. And I am not about to let them enter a marriage I think they might be miserable in.”
Meriel squirmed and sank lower in her chair. Raelynd’s only response was a stiffening of her back, but both reactions were enough to confirm that much more was going on. Laurel began to drum her fingers on the table. Walking into the Hall, her goal had been to get both women to admit the truth—that the wedding was a farce. But after listening to them, Laurel was no longer sure she should coerce them into such a confession.
Tempting the Highlander Page 10
