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

by Elaine Manders

  He dropped his head back onto the pillow and closed his eyes. “That’s what I don’t understand.”

  It wasna strange to her. “Tis pride, the original sin, I think. I know why Vanora is as she is. What I canna understand is why the people allow her to deceive them. Canna they see the truth?”

  “They don’t wish to see the bad in her, lass.” Barthram’s voice was a raspy whisper. “They should remember the Lord’s warning, not to be deceived by wolves in sheep’s clothing.”

  “Mayhap they doona recognize the bad in her because they forget the one dressed in sheep’s clothing could be a she-wolf.”

  She returned the Bible to its resting place, knowing she must leave Barthy to sleep.

  Chapter 10

  Gavin delivered his handsome sorrel to the stables and started for the castle’s side door when a carriage with four in hand drove up the cobbled drive, a horse tied behind.

  Orion, Alana’s magnificent white, Arabian stallion. This would make her happy—one bright event in an otherwise dreadful day.

  He’d been in difficult straits before, but never one in which he saw no way out. If he had any sense at all, he’d take Alana to Glasgow or London. They deserved a honeymoon. Then he remembered his father, and with slow steps followed the path to the carriage.

  How long could he keep these difficulties from his father who’d earned a peaceful end? The crofters were threatening to take matters in their own hands, and would if any more sheep were stolen. The McGil and the Frasier were the worse. They’d always been warring—mainly with the Kerrs of the Gilmour clan. The Kerrs were involved with the theft, he was sure of it, though no evidence had been found. They likely got rid of the animals quickly.

  Then there was the ever present threat of Vanora. She’d continued to beguile the clans and remind them Alana’s bad blood would bring pestilence and doom. How could he protect Alana?

  Shouts from a feminine voice made him look toward the house. Alana came running across the circular drive. For one foolish moment, he thought she ran to him, but of course, her horse held all her attention. Not that he could blame her. Orion was a splendid animal.

  By the time he’d arrived at the carriage, Alana had greeted Orion and was hugging a stout, brown-haired woman. Alana stepped out of the woman’s embrace and turned her beaming face to him. “Gavin, I want you to meet Mina, my personal maid. She’s finally arrived. Oh, I ken it’s only been a couple of days, but it seemed forever.”

  He nodded as the maid dipped into a curtsey. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mina. I trust you can keep my wife happy.” Since he didn’t know how long it would be before he could make her happy.

  “I shall certainly try, m’lord.” Mina looked from him to Alana.

  A groom came to take Orion as Alana gave the horse one last pat. They all stepped aside for the carriage to depart while a footman stood at the ready, holding several pieces of luggage.

  “Mina, if you’ll follow Hansen, he’ll take you to Lady Alana’s chambers. She’ll be along in a bit.”

  Alana gave him a questioning glance, obviously wondering why he wanted her to tarry. After Mina had gone, he took Alana’s arm and led her across the yard to a small garden.

  Neither of them made a move to sit on the stone benches. He lifted his boot to the edge of the seat and leaned forward to rest an arm on his knee.

  “Did you get your horse back?” Worry had settled into Alana’s voice, and he twisted his head to look at her sharply.

  “Aye, I did, but I didn’t have a pleasant visit with your aunt.”

  “What was her problem?”

  “I see no reason to repeat the unpleasantries.” He stood to face her. “I don’t want you going to Gilmour Manor, Alana, and I’ve forbidden Vanora to see you.”

  He watched her eyes move, searching his face, and braced himself for questions, but she merely nodded. “Very well, I’ll do as you wish.”

  “I must also ask that you not visit any of the crofters until I’ve had the chance to introduce you.”

  “But I had hoped to begin visiting the sick and reading to the children at the parish school, if there is one.”

  “There is, and you shall take on those duties in time, but I don’t know how much poison Vanora may have spread among the crofters.”

  “Might I shop in the village?”

  “Not yet.” Was he being fair to her, practically ordering her to remain within the confines of Stonecrest? “You shall do all those things expected of the mistress of the manor, but not yet. We’ll have a celebration, a ceilidh, for the people to come and give you proper homage, then you may go out among them.” He watched her lips droop and added. “I can take you riding about the grounds this afternoon, if you wish.”

  Those shapely lips curved into a wide smile. “I would like that more than anything.”

  He stepped closer, wanting to pull her to him but hesitating. The sun turned her hair to glinting fire, an inviting flame that drew him. “Then we shall.” The words came out husky. He threw aside his caution and drew her to him with one arm and felt her stiffen.

  Her eyes were wide and questioning. “Everyone can see us,” she sputtered.

  He cupped her chin with his hand. “Aye, I want them to see.” His mouth touched hers before she could protest, and he felt her lips quiver. Desire took hold as he deepened the kiss. When he drew back he saw her cheeks had turned ruddy and her eyes had darkened with awakening ardor. It was a good thing they were not alone. He’d forget his promise to wait until they were better acquainted.

  With a sigh of frustration, he released her. McGuire, his man of business, was coming toward them at a trot.

  “Perhaps you should go now to give instructions to your maid.”

  “I should.” She surprised him by taking his hand and giving it a little squeeze. “Farewell.” She turned and after a few steps, favored him with a backward glance.

  That small gesture put him in a lighter mood, although he knew McGuire brought news of trouble. The little garden darkened as clouds blotted out the sun.

  McGuire huffed as he approached, his breath doubtless restricted by his wide girth. “A plague has broken out at the Frasier croft, m’lord.” The man stopped to catch his breath. “Three children, they still live but just barely, and Mrs. Frasier has died.”

  Gavin threw his head back and looked to heaven. “Any others affected?”

  “None that we know of, m’lord.”

  “What does the physician say?”

  “He’s not seen anything like unto it. Couldn’t say whether it might spread, but sees no need for a quarantine as yet. Agatha Kilgarney, Frasier’s aunt is there to help. You recall she’s recently moved here from the north.”

  Yes, he knew who Agatha Kilgarney was. A parcel of trouble. “Then I suppose that’s all that can be done.”

  “I knew you’d want to keep anyone from coming into the castle in case this illness is catching.”

  Gavin was about to turn away when McGuire stopped him. “I should also tell you what Lady Vanora has done."

  “What?”

  “Yesterday she came to the McGil bearing five yearling lambs. Told him they were to replace the five sheep her people were accused of stealing, that she knew them to be innocent, but to save peace she wanted to make amends.”

  How like Vanora. “I suppose Red McGil felt sorry for her and refused the lambs.”

  McGuire nodded. “And they are all praising her virtues.” He took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “She’ll attend the wake for Mrs. Fraiser.”

  “Of course, though I’ve told her not to come on Carmichael property. The McGil and Fraiser crofters will think harshly of me if I attempt to stop her.”

  “The situation is untenable,” McGuire agreed.

  “Send a representative from Stonecrest to the wake. I’ll see Garth and Red in private later.” Gavin pressed his hand to his aching forehead and began to cover the distance to the house, rage chasing him.

  It was
his fault for not taking Vanora seriously much sooner. He could remember her intrigue when she was yet a young lass. It was funny then…charming even, and because she was the great Robert Gilmour’s daughter, everyone fell in love with her.

  The little mean streak he’d detected in her during the early years when she’d provoked this one against that one had grown to malicious proportions.

  Without even trying, she’d turned the clan against Elspeth. The crofters hated Elspeth because she’d brought in Lyulf, an outsider, and commiserated with poor little Vanora who had to endure her mother’s debauched behavior.

  They waited with eager anticipation for their heroine to grow up and marry an able clansman and force power from Elspeth.

  He didn’t know whether it was Lyulf or Vanora who’d sent those thieves to rob him. If Lyulf was responsible, Elspeth might have insisted Gavin’s horse be returned to him. She held enough affection for Barthram to have done that.

  If the culprit were Vanora, Gavin couldn’t fathom a guess as to why she’d want to return his horse unless to show the crofters how magnanimous she could be. In any event, he’d lost his saddle and a good deal of money but was lucky to get his horse back.

  Gavin knew he angered the people when he married, not Vanora, as they hoped, but Alana. Even without the rumors of Alana’s parentage, they’d have been incensed. Alana could do nothing to better their lot, whereas a married Vanora could seize control from Elspeth.

  Now she’d put out the tale that he’d attempted to ravish her in her own home.

  He could well imagine the story she’d told, how she’d fought off with every ounce of her dignity. It would be easy to convince the Gilmours their honor had been insulted. Elspeth wouldn’t have agreed to a trial without being pushed into it. The men had likely come to her and demanded it.

  He didn’t see how war could be prevented now, and knew he’d have to form some alliances before it was too late.

  If only he could go to his father. He needed the chieftain’s advice, but Gavin refused to trouble his father. He could no longer lean on his father. He was a man now and had to rely on himself alone to save the clan.

  Or he’d lose it.

  Instead of riding with Alana, he ought to be conferring with the crofters, but he’d promised her, and he wanted to be with her.

  If he could only confide in her, woo her, blow that little flame of desire he’d seen in her into life. But if she heard the whole truth, she might be frightened and disappointed that she’d married him.

  He wouldn’t really blame her if she ran off and returned to her grandfather.

  ***

  With the wind blowing stray wisps of hair around her face as she and Gavin rode across the glen, Alana couldn’t recall ever being so happy.

  What more could she ask for? Warm sunlight from above, a powerful horse under her, and a handsome man beside her. Ever since arriving at Stonecrest, fear had gnawed her, but at the moment, she felt giddy with freedom.

  They climbed the last hill on their way to the loch as the sun barely tipped toward afternoon. The countryside was beautiful, but her gaze kept straying back to Gavin. He sat a horse so well, and the sight of his handsome profile twisted her heart. Barthram’s words kept echoing in her brain, “He’ll fall in love with you.” She was beginning to hope that might be true. If only she could get Gavin to kiss her out here instead of under the watchful eyes of servants.

  Then like a snake striking out, Vanora’s hateful threats sprang forth, and Alana forced her attention back to the scenery. Yet there was something in the Holy Scriptures about all things working together for good to those who loved God.

  Mayhap Vanora had inadvertently caused some good. Because of her, Gavin had married her instead of Vanora and had agreed to wait until they loved each other to share the marriage bed. Alana turned that over in her mind.

  Aye, she wanted love to come first.

  “We’ll let the horses drink and rest a while.” Gavin dismounted, and she deliberately waited for him to help her from the saddle. Despite her resolve to wait on love, she wanted her husband to put his hands on her.

  They led the horses down to where the alder and oak fringed Loch Cullen. “Did you visit Father this morning?” Gavin looked across the loch.

  “I did and we had a fine visit. He’s verra kind to me.”

  “I told you he would be.”

  “I read to him from the Bible.”

  He glanced at her and smiled. “I’m sure he found your voice much more pleasing than old Halberd.”

  “Do you ever read Scripture to him?” She suddenly realized she knew nothing of Gavin’s beliefs.

  He tethered the horses to the limb of a fallen oak. They walked around an out cropping of waterweeds and climbed through the heather to find some shade under a grove of pines. She breathed in the clean scent and waited for him to answer.

  “I have read to Father.” Gavin’s gaze held hers as he searched her face. “I have…I…” He looked away as a pained expression clouded his eyes. “Alana, may I tell you something I couldn’t admit to anyone else?”

  Without thinking, she reached out to take his hand. “You can tell me anything.”

  “I have much to do and little time, that much is true, but I find myself avoiding my father.” His voice came out strained. “It’s simply that I can’t bear to see him suffer so.”

  Tears welled in his eyes, and realizing how precious the moment was, she chose her words carefully. “I understand perfectly, Gavin, and I’m sure Lord Barthram does too.”

  “But I should be spending as much time as I can with him. I won’t have him long.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his right hand. She still held his left. Gavin sighed. “If he only knew how inadequate I am.”

  For the first time she understand her husband. He wasna the invincible man she’d imagined. He had doubts that he could manage the clan. He feared his father knew this. “Lord Barthram wouldna believe that of you.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “I thank God I married you, Alana.” He spoke into her hair.

  “I too am glad.” After a long moment, she pulled back reluctantly, feeling she must break the tension. “Tell me about your mother. Do you remember her?”

  “No, she died when I was four years old. I have no memories.”

  They’d become so close she dared to think she could probe further. “Lord Barthram told me how he came to love my mother.”

  She thought for a moment she’d gone too far. Mayhap he dinna welcome the thought his father had loved a woman other than his mother.

  Gavin stared out at the loch before answering. “Even as a lad I knew Father loved Hester, but her father had formed an alliance with the McWayre, so she was affianced to Torquil. I well remember Hester. She was kind and gentle, as is her daughter.”

  She laughed softly. “I know I’m Hester’s daughter. Vanora canna take that from me, and I want to prove myself to the people, but how can I when I must stay in the castle. I love visiting with Barthy, but he’s the only one I can talk to.”

  His brows furrowed as he turned to her. “Who?”

  Her fingers flew to her mouth as she realized what she’d said. “Oh—he insisted I call him that because that’s the name I gave him as a babe. Apparently I visited Stonecrest often during my early years.”

  “Barthy?” Gavin’s scowl relaxed and he laughed. “I recall when Elspeth brought you and Vanora for visits. Rory and I were nine and eleven at the time, and had no interest in wee lasses.”

  “I dare say you wouldna.” She wondered if he’d reveal what he used to feel for Vanora when she grew older. “Barthy said Vanora and I were identical as wee ones, yet I ken she grew up with the beauty.”

  He started to protest, and she laid her hand on his chest. “No, ‘tis true—outward beauty at least. She has no freckles at all, whereas they cover my nose, and my ears stick out too much.”

  With a soft chuckle, he ran his finger from the bridge of her nose to the tip. “I think y
ou’re fishing for compliments, wife. What freckles you have—and there’re not many—are charming, and your ears do not stick out.”

  “I keep them hidden under my hair.” To prove her point, she pulled her hair back.

  He dipped his head and she felt his lips nuzzle her ear. All sorts of new sensations exploded deep within, and she lost all coherent thought.

  Moving only enough to rest his forehead against hers, he quirked a smile and gazed into her eyes. Did he know what effect he had on her? “Shall we walk to the other end of the loch?” he asked. “It’s not far.”

  “Aye.” She swallowed the emotion caught in her throat. “I’d like that.”

  “Do you not remember any of this?” He waved a hand over the heather covered glen on the other side. “You stayed with your aunt one summer when you were older, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, aye, I remember now. It was the summer Lord Barthram took you and Rory to tour the continent. Aunt Elspeth invited me to come take lessons with Vanora. She had an English tutor…a Mr. Jacobs he was. But you were gone. How did you ken?”

  “We got news from home on occasion.”

  “I recall that summer well, and now I think of it, that was the time Vanora seemed to go—”

  “Bad?”

  How well he read her. “Mr. Jacobs made much of her because she would grow up to be a ruler. He doted on her and convinced her she would be like Queen Elizabeth if she connived her way into high positions. They likened me to Mary, our queen, the one who lost her head.”

  They both laughed together, and he shortened his long strides to match her steps. “Difficult times are coming, Alana, but we’ll persevere—with our heads.”

  “Is there much trouble within the clans?”

  “There is, I’m sorry to say. A plague has visited the Frasier croft. Mrs. Frasier died just yesterday and three of the bairns are ill.”