The Chieftain's Choice (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 1)

by Elaine Manders

  He had to somehow find time to woo the lass, gain her trust. How, he wasn’t sure. All the shocking revelations she endured left her as skittish as a wild kitten.

  Some of the morning mist had begun to lift, and he made his way down a crooked path to the house.

  A groom ran to his horse’s head, but Gavin waved him away. “I won’t be long,” he said, tying the reins onto a decorative hitching post capped by a sculpted horse’s head.

  The heavy oaken door to Gilmour castle creaked as it swung open. Gavin saw Elspeth and Lywulf standing outside the study as if waiting for him. Were they always together?

  “Come in, Gavin Carmichael.” Elspeth’s face looked bright and eager. “We have much to talk about.”

  “I only came for my horse, which I understand you found near the loch.” He addressed Lywulf.

  Elspeth’s steward wore a plain blue coat and unadorned linen shirt as befitted a servant, but stood with his booted feet a little apart and arms crossed on his chest like a noble. “Aye, he’s in the stables.”

  “Have you investigated how the stallion came to be there? He was taken by highwaymen on McWayre land. The horse hardly got all the way here on his own.”

  “Are you insinuating our people are highwaymen?” Not surprisingly, Lyulf’s tone turned hard.

  “They might be associated with the thieves in some way. Your crofters could know something.”

  Elspeth held up a delicate hand. “We have more important things to discuss than your animal. Lywulf, bring his horse around. Gavin and I have some matters of a personal nature to settle.” She beckoned Gavin with her hand to a seating arrangement of heavy Jacobean furniture centered on an intricately woven rug.

  Gavin couldn’t help but be amused at how he and Lywulf, both tall, muscular men that they were, flew to the bidding of this tiny woman, like two leaves blown by the wind.

  He and Elspeth sized each other up for a long moment after sitting opposite one another. She smiled. “Tell me how my niece is getting along in her new home.”

  “She’s just arrived, but I intend to make her as comfortable as possible.”

  “Perhaps it isn’t possible. When are you to hold a celebration to introduce Alana to the clan?”

  “We’ll do no entertaining as long as my father suffers. Of course you may visit your niece as you wish.” He hated having to extend the invitation, but knew of no reasonable way to avoid it. He only hoped she’d leave Vanora at home.

  “I shall as soon as she’s settled in.” Elspeth adjusted her silken skirt. “Has Alana met Finella yet?”

  “Regrettably, she was startled by the woman. Why didn’t Angus tell her about Finella? Why didn’t you?”

  “Alana had so many distressing circumstances surrounding her family, we saw no reason to distress her further.”

  “Protecting her from the truth won’t help. The shock of discovering Finella distressed her.”

  “You try hard to be a peace maker, Gavin, but did it ever occur to you that the people don’t want peace?” Elspeth had an irritating habit of changing subjects abruptly.

  “What do you mean?”

  With a shrug of one shoulder, she smiled again. “It’s of no importance. I should just come out and tell you the worst of it. Vanora has charged that you attacked her, attempting to ravish her in her own chambers the day you left to marry Alana.”

  He twisted toward her. “Surely you give no credence to what Vanora says.”

  “She has your sporran, torn off in her successful attempt to break away, and the servants say they heard her screams.”

  “If they heard, why didn’t they come to her aid?”

  “All that will come out at the assizes.”

  “What assizes?” Was the woman mad? To give Vanora’s tirades any consideration was ludicrous.

  “It’s a serious charge, deserving an investigation. We’ll hold the hearing a fortnight hence here. Representatives of both the Carmichael and Gilmour will be represented and, of course, you will be invited.”

  He got to his feet ready to end the discussion. “I won’t give legitimacy to any of Vanora’s insane charges, nor will any of the Carmichael clan. No one with the brains of a flea would credit anything Vanora says.”

  “Take care what you say, Gavin Carmichael.” Elspeth’s tone turned menacing. “This is my daughter you speak of, and the heiress of Gilmour Hall. They will fight for her honor.”

  “So that’s it? She wants to start a war between the clans?”

  Footsteps called his attention to the doorway.

  “The clans are in agreement.”

  Vanora stood just inside the door. Her flaming hair pulled to the side as she combed the mane with her fingers. “It’s you they wish to be rid of. They just need an excuse.” She walked slowly toward them. “As they’ll have when I tell them what you did.”

  Gavin’s hands clenched into fists, but he managed to remain calm as he stood. “I’ve done nothing to you, Vanora, as you well know. At least have the decency not to incite trouble that could cause others harm.”

  Elspeth shot up. “Vanora, leave us. I’ll take care of this.”

  “No, Mother, you can’t. I don’t have to wait until my majority. My husband and I will become head of the Gilmour.”

  “Who are you to marry?” Gavin asked.

  “Rory, of course. When the Carmichael clan puts you out, he’ll return, and we’ll be married. It’s all planned.”

  “You intend to pit my own brother against me?” Gavin asked, wishing she were a man so he could wipe that smug smile from her face. “Rory isn’t that stupid.”

  Vanora laughed. “Rory is a coward. He doesn’t even have the courage to wait until his father dies. He knows what will happen then, but after the bloodbath, he’ll return, and we’ll be married. Cowards are easy to control.”

  “Enough.” Elspeth fairly shouted. “Vanora, I demand you stop this insane prattle.”

  Vanora’s gaze drifted from Gavin to Elspeth. “Don’t worry, Mother. It doesn’t matter that Gavin knows. He can do nothing now…not since he married Alana. He sealed his doom as soon as he said ‘I do.’”

  Gavin started to leave. If he didn’t, he might lose all control, but Elspeth caught him by the forearm. “I charge you to protect Alana at all costs.” There was real concern in her eyes. She must hold some affection for her niece,

  Or fear of her daughter.

  “Have no care that I’ll protect Alana.” He broke away and paused before passing Vanora who stood, smiling her contempt. “Don’t attempt to contact Alana or even set foot on Carmichael property.”

  “How are you to stop me?”

  “With force, if necessary.”

  Elspeth came up to grasp her daughter’s hand, though she addressed Gavin. “Go, take your horse and leave. I can handle Vanora.”

  His cursory nod of farewell came automatically before he strode from the room, glad to breathe in the outside air. Neither Elspeth nor anyone else could handle Vanora. While he could order that she not be received at the castle, his threat that she keep off Carmichael property was impossible to enforce.

  He knew some of the clan people would welcome her, even admired her. Though Vanora had just shown her vindictive side, which was her true self, she was at her best when she beguiled people with her lies.

  ***

  An uneasiness settled into Alana’s stomach, making it impossible to partake of the breakfast sent up to her. After nibbling around the porridge, she gave up and pushed away from the tray. At the window, she hugged herself and stared through the thick panes, willing Gavin to come home.

  The fog had already burned off the glen, but there was no sign of man or animal. Instead of staying in her room worrying, she should go down and see Lord Barthram. She’d been told he slept late, but surely by now he’d awakened.

  Mina would arrive today and Orion. She longed to ride over the dales with Gavin and learn about this new land and the people. Grandfather hadna allowed her to interact with
the clan at McWayre.

  She left the room and looked down the long hallway. It would take days to learn her way about the castle, but she was unconcerned with that now. At least she knew where the stairs were. A sound from above caught her attention—a low, mournful sound like wailing. She stopped and looked up. The muffled noise came from the third floor and the stairs leading up towered before her.

  Flames from the two wall scones cast ghoulish shadows on the stone wall as she climbed the steps. The pitiful wailing grew louder at the landing, and she followed the sound to a door. The knob wouldn’t turn, so she rapped impatiently.

  The door screeched open, and Mrs. Gantry gaped at her. “Did you lose your way, my lady?”

  Alana glanced over the housekeeper’s shoulder to where Finella huddled in a corner of the room, rocking back and forth as she wailed. “No, I didn’t lose my way.” Alana pushed past Mrs. Gantry. “What’s going on?”

  “Finella soiled herself this morning, and I took her doll away. Tis the only punishment she understands.”

  Alana could count on one hand the number of times she’d been enraged this much. White hot anger shot through her. How dare they punish this pitiful old woman in any way. Finella was the only link she had to her dear mother, and she wouldn’t permit such treatment.

  Trying to maintain control, she spoke through gritted teeth. “Where is her doll?”

  “I have it,” Mrs. Gantry said. “I’ll give it back to her this afternoon, after she’s understands her mistake.”

  Alana rushed to Finella. Squatting, she lay her arm across the weeping woman. She looked up at Mrs. Gantry. “Get her doll. Now.”

  “Begging your ladyship’s pardon, but you don’t understand how Finella must be handled. Tis difficult enough. The last servant ran off last week, and now there’s only me on this floor.”

  “My maid is coming today. She’ll take care of Finella,” Alana said. What was she getting poor Mina into? Finella moaned louder, and Alana raised her voice. “Get the doll immediately.”

  Mrs. Gantry left in a huff and returned a minute later to shove the doll into Finella’s outstretched hands. The wailing stopped, and the old woman rocked the doll contentedly. “My babe, my babe.”

  Alana got to her feet. “There now, perhaps we can get you a new babe, then you’ll have two.” The old doll looked shabby and held a sour smell.

  “Finella has had many dolls over the years.” The defensive tone in Mrs. Gantry’s voice couldn’t be missed. “One at the time is best in my estimation.”

  “Tis true,” Finella said, looking up at Alana. “I’ve had many babes until they get lost. I can’t remember them all, but my first babe I remember quite well.” She scrambled to her feet and reached her bony fingers out to stroke Alana’s hair. “She looked like you.” For a moment sanity showed in Finella’s watery, red-rimmed eyes.

  Alana turned to address Mrs. Gantry. “I must go look on Lord Barthram now, but we’ll discuss the matter further later in the day.” She hoped she spoke with enough confidence to impress the housekeeper.

  Mrs. Gantry didn’t offer her the customary curtsey.

  After hastening down the two stairwells, Alana wondered where the chieftain might be, but she caught sight of the open door to the blue saloon and headed in that direction.

  The elegant room welcomed her as she entered, quietly, in case Barthram still slept. Her gaze took in the furnishings, and she appreciated the oak paneling, the wine-colored plush drapes and the Aubusson carpet beneath her feet.

  “Come in, lassie. I’m awake.” Barthram lay on the chaise, his head propped up by several embroidered pillows.

  “How are you feeling this fine day?” She smoothed the front of her pale yellow morning gown before sitting beside him.

  “Better than I have been in some time. I can’t think why my son would wish to attend business when he might be with his beautiful bride.”

  She didn’t know how much Gavin had told Barthram, so she made light of his comment. “Gavin has been very attentive to me.”

  The old man cocked a straggly brow and gave her a mischievous grin. “He has, has he?”

  She blushed. Barthram couldna ken that she and Gavin hadna yet become intimate. “I’m glad to find you so cheerful, my lord.”

  “None of this ‘my lord’ addresses. Call me what you did as a wee mite. Do you remember what that was?”

  Nothing came to her mind. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Barthram as a child. “No, I canna, but I’m curious.”

  “Barthy.”

  She laughed and realized it had been a long time since she’d laughed as heartily. “Barthy?” It sounded like something one would call a dog, hardly fitting a great chieftain, but who was she to argue. “Very well, if it pleases you…Barthy.”

  “It pleases me much.” Barthram settled back on his cushions and steepled his fingers on his chest. He gazed over her head to Hester’s portrait. “I was in love with your mother, you must know.”

  She did know, but his bluntness startled her. “That was before she wed Torquil.”

  Barthram smiled. “Aye. Hester came to stay with Elspeth when Robert Gilmour left for sea. The ladies were kind enough to help me with my sons. After my wife, Gavin’s mother, died, I was adrift.”

  “I ken understand.” Her voice cracked on the words. The story always saddened her as it brought to mind things that might have been.

  Barthram’s wife had died shortly after Rory’s birth, leaving Barthram with the two small bairns to raise on his own. Alana could understand how Hester had fallen in love with the lads without realizing their father fell in love with her. Grandfather had explained all this many years ago, but nothing in the telling indicated Hester had returned Barthram’s love. Why had her mother chosen Torquil to this good man?

  Barthram sighed deeply. “Even after she married Torquil, I loved her, and if that be a sin, I hope the Lord will forgive me.”

  “I’m certain He has, and I believe my mother loved you, though in a different way.”

  “She did and proved it by giving her life for mine.” He sent a squinted blue gaze in Alana’s direction. “It happened here, in this very room. Torquil’s raiders had left when Miriam’s henchmen stormed the castle. I brought the women in here to protect them.” A soft chuckle escaped his thin lips. “Little good I did them. My men quickly rounded the scoundrels up and sounded the all clear, but at the moment we thought it safe to relax, a warrior burst through the door with musket raised to my heart.”

  Several moments passed in silence. Alana found it hard to breathe as she waited for him to continue.

  He closed his eyes as if the scene could be shut out that way. “It happened so fast. Hester threw herself at the man, and he fired. My men rushed in and captured him, but Hester lay there.” He pointed a finger to the open floor. “I held her in my arms as the blood gushed from her wound. If you lift that rug you can still see her blood stains on the floor.”

  Alana had no desire to do so.

  Barthram laced his fingers together on his chest and gave her another weak smile. “That’s enough about lost love. Afore long I’ll join Hester and my wife, but this is your time, Alana—yours and Gavin’s.”

  She dropped her gaze to her lap and fidgeted with her skirt’s ribbon trim.

  “I wish my son had joined us. He has a good mind and a good heart, but he wants to do everything for himself, and it’s too much.” His glance traveled to Alana. “You will help him?”

  “Of course, that’s what a wife is for.”

  “I know it’s strange to you and him to have married so hastily.”

  “It has been strange…Barthy.” She liked the way the name rolled out and the camaraderie of her father-in-law.

  “He’ll fall in love with you, my dear, and unless I miss my guess, it’ll be quickly.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks, and not knowing what to say, she kept silent.

  “You’ll be kind to him, Alana? You women don’t know how much power you y
ield, and lucky we men are that you don’t.”

  Laughter bubbled from Alana’s throat.

  Barthram’s voice took on a more serious tone. “You’ll help him when others turn against him, when unrest erupts among the clansmen?”

  “I dinna ken there was any unrest.”

  “My dear you can’t put two Scotsmen together without there being unrest.”

  Smiling, she reached out to adjust the covers over his knees. “Now I ken you’re jesting.”

  “Aye, it’s not just Scotsmen. The English are having trouble with the colonies, I hear, and anyone else they can find to displease them. The French are gnawing at each--the Germans, the Austrians, the Russians. Men are all alike. It seems they can’t tolerate too long a stretch of peace.”

  “I dare say you’re right, Barthy, but it shouldna be that hard to live in peace.”

  She watched his chest rise and fall as if he labored for breath and worried that she’d tired him. Finally he spoke. “Might I trouble you to do something for me, lass?”

  “Certainly, anything.”

  “You have such a pleasant voice, would you read a portion out of the Bible?” He pointed to a side table which held a large open book.

  She approached the Bible with reverence. Hand-scribed by a master calligrapher, it was richly inlaid with gold. Lifting it with care, she returned to her chair and settled it on her knees.

  “Read the ninety-sixth Psalm,” Barthram said.

  “It’s open to the ninety-sixth Psalm.”

  Barthram smiled. “It’s always open to the ninety-sixth Psalm.”

  She cleared her throat and began. “O sing unto the Lord, a new song: sing unto the Lord, all the earth.”

  At the end of the Psalm, she glanced up, wondering if he wanted her to continue.

  “Here in my last days, those words give me comfort.” Barthram drew in a deep breath and coughed. “I’ve heard every word in that book, Alana. I’ve read every word in that book, and I understand what’s in that book more than most men. Yet there’s one thing I don’t understand.”

  “What’s that, Barthy?” She smoothed her hand over the pages, expecting his reply to be profound.

  “The Bible calls it the mystery of iniquity.” Barthram lifted his head to gaze at her. “Elspeth used to bring you and Vanora over for visits. You couldn’t have been more than three or four, but at that time you and Vanora were as much alike as twin lambs. Two little cherubs you were, playing around on this very rug. Yet one of you grew up to choose iniquity.”