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

by Elaine Manders

  Halberd straightened. “I’d best go call the servants. All the neighboring chieftains will be arriving. Most of the rooms have already been put in order since they were readied for the ceilidh and the assizes, but there’s much to be done.” That was true. Even her grandfather hadna time to get home yet. He and the others would have to return post haste.

  The old butler trembled, and she held up a restraining hand. “You sit here for a while. I’ll send in the doctor and call the servants. Everything will be put to rights. After Dr. Paul leaves, I suggest you go to your room and rest for the morrow.”

  Dr. Paul was sitting in the ante room, drinking a cup of tea. She didn’t have to explain. He set the cup aside and got to his feet. “I’m heartily sorry, m’lady. I know it does small comfort, but he’s in a better place.”

  “Thank you, doctor. I must go instruct the servants.” Without much thought, she pulled the large tasseled cord.

  Although Lord Barthram’s death had been expected for some while, the servants digested the news with shock and sorrow. Alana had no trouble getting them to go about their duties, even though it was the middle of the night. Even Mrs. Gantry hustled off without her usual complaining.

  With the instructions out of the way, Alana fled to her chambers to ponder how she could comfort her husband.

  ***

  His father, the rock he’d always relied upon, was gone.

  Gavin kept pushing that thought down. There was much to do all at once. Structures that had just been taken down from the party, now had to be erected to hold the food and drink for the mourners.

  As with the ceilidh, inside the house the nobility gathered, while outside the grounds filled with the crofters and villagers. Almost around the clock, the mournful pipes played.

  Mourners arrived from the far corners of Scotland, Ireland, and England. His father was well known and respected. Some of the older statesmen recalled how Lord Carmichael had helped establish the peace after the Jacobites Insurrection, convincing the people that peace would benefit Scotland more than England.

  It was Barthram more than anyone who’d curried English favor to benefit the Scots. He began by socializing with certain English noblemen, inviting them to hunts and convinced them they had nothing to fear from another Scottish uprising.

  His father was a peacemaker.

  Gavin forced himself to remain stoic with neither a flinch nor tear throughout the funeral until the first clods of dirt thudded onto his father’s casket. How could one be so strong and valiant as to change his part of the world, influence powerful men, endear himself to so many?

  And now was no more.

  Even kings fell and were remembered no more. Did life mean so little in the end? With Alana weeping on one side of him and Rory sniffing on the other, he had to remain strong.

  As hard as he managed to hold back his emotions during the day, in the still, dark hours of the night, the grief sliced him like a knife. He sat up on the side of the bed to keep from awaking Alana and released the tumult in great heaving gasps.

  Alana said nothing but he felt her arms come around him. Giving up, he buried his head in her hair and let her comfort him like a child.

  “Perhaps it isna the time to tell you in such sorrow, but you need to hear some glad news.”

  He lifted his head to look at her, and the dim light picked out the concern in her eyes. His heart sped up as she continued. “We’re to have a child, my darling.” His heart flopped as he tried to sort out the emotions coming from all sides. “I was afraid to say anything earlier because I wasn’t certain, but dearest, I am certain.”

  A child? He’d have never dreamt that would happen so soon. He crushed her to him, then stupidly feared he’d hurt her. Holding her back so he could study her face again, he smiled. “Alana, I couldn’t imagine any news making me feel better, but it does. It makes me…almost giddy. I feel guilty to be so happy…but are you all right? You’ve been under such stress.”

  She laughed. “I’m fine, and Gavin, I told Barthy just before he…before he left us. He left this world a happy man, and I know he’s happy where he is now. We should be rejoicing for him and for us.”

  He stretched out on the bed and pulled her into his arms. “You are wise, lass. No matter what may happen, God has sent us this blessing…a miracle in the midst of madness perhaps, but I can’t imagine a better miracle.”

  In the days ahead another miracle happened.

  The crofters led by Neal Frasier came to pledge their allegiance to Gavin as the new chieftain of Clan Carmichael…and his wife. Lord Barthram’s death had reminded them of all they owed the old chieftain and to his son.

  If they had turned their minds from the superstitious charges of the Gilmours, that was a miracle in itself. That it happened so fast was a testament of the legacy Lord Barthram left.

  Gavin stood beside his beaming wife to acknowledge the bowing and curtseying people. They didn’t have to do this. English rule was the law of the land now. His control was limited to the duties of a laird, nothing more than a squire. Their allegiance to him was just ceremonial, but it put his mind at ease.

  There would be no uprising among the clan people. If he could bring in the highwaymen and get Tor Kerr’s cooperation, perhaps even the Gilmours would reject Vanora.

  By the evening of the day after the funeral all the houseguests had left. Gavin retired with Alana to the back parlor. He to peruse the London Times, and she to knit some little thing for the coming babe. They had finally become like any married couple. How could he have doubted God’s mercies?

  From over the newspaper he watched as a smile played at her lips. Those pouty lips enticed him, and he was about to get up and kiss his wife when the door opened. He glanced up, expecting to find Halberd there.

  Vanora stepped into the room.

  Dressed in an elaborate puce carriage gown and matching bonnet, she appeared as any great lady newly arrived from a shopping trip to the city.

  He heard Alana’s knitting needles clatter to the floor.

  Vanora darted a scathing glare in her direction. “Where is my mother?”

  Alana shot to her feet before he could. “What have you done to Aunt Elspeth?”

  Vanora crossed the room and came to a halt in front of them. “Are you crazed?” She looked from Alana to Gavin.

  “I know you too well, Vanora.” Alana’s voice shook. “It’s like you to do some evil deed and come complaining that someone else has done it.”

  “We haven’t seen Elspeth since the funeral.” Gavin took a step toward her, making her back up. “We’re in mourning, so state your business and leave.”

  Vanora tilted her head back, looking at him through slit eyelids. “Yes, I know you’re in mourning. You are now chieftain of Carmichael, but I wonder for how long.”

  A retort formed in his throat, but Alana cut it off. “Aunt Elspeth isna at home?”

  “I got home a while ago and found Gilmour Hall entirely deserted. Even the servants are gone.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Gavin put more steel in his voice. “Elspeth wouldn’t have abandoned the house without a word, and why have you returned?”

  “I might as well tell you. I’m sure your spies will report what happened anyway.” She crossed her arms and paced about. “I asked Miriam Tynsdale to get me an audience with the king. She could have done so…or her husband could, but it seems I made the mistake of telling her why I wanted to see him.”

  “We’d like to know that too.”

  She moved from one place to the other like a stalking cat. “I intended to tell the king that you were stirring things up, encouraging the clans to rebel. The king would at least have sent soldiers to investigate the matter, and—”

  “And might have believed the unrest you’d caused would be blamed on me?”

  “Never mind. It was all for naught. I made the mistake of telling Miriam the truth.” Vanora stopped and whirled around toward Alana. “She refused because of you.”

 
“Me?” The look Alana sent Gavin was one of confusion, but he didn’t know where Vanora’s wild ranting might go either.

  Vanora huffed. “She said that she would do nothing that might harm her flesh and blood. She’d reminded me that you are her daughter.”

  Gavin put a protective arm around his wife and whispered into her ear. “Remember what Father said, “All things work to good.”

  “Shut up. It won’t be good for Miriam. I told her I was going to Lord Tynsdale and tell him the truth about her. Do you know what she had the audacity to do?”

  “Tell us,” Alana said.

  “She had her guards come directly, that night, to kidnap me and escort me back here, with warnings never to return to London.”

  Gavin couldn’t prevent a laugh from bursting forth, although he knew it would incense Vanora more. “Then it appears you have met your match in Lady Tynsdale.”

  The fire in her eyes showed how incensed Vanora was, but she held her emotions in check better than he would have thought possible. “She’ll rue the day she turned against me, and anyway, it’s fortunate I did return home. Mother had sent me a missive that Lyulf was dead, and the clan was in chaos. But she assured me she could handle the situation. How absurd can she be? Yet when I arrive, she’s gone.”

  She removed her bonnet and shook out her hair like a lion shaking his mane. “I’m now in charge of Gilmour Hall, and I’ll bring the clan around. We’ll see you destroyed, Gavin Carmichael.”

  Alana flinched and he pulled her tighter. “There’s no point for dramatics, Vanora. The Gilmour people need calm, not more derision.”

  “You delude yourself if you think you’ve won. Oh, the stable master told me how people were bowing and scraping to you, trying to gain your favor now that you’re chieftain.” She laughed. “That’s the way of people. One moment they bow to you, the next, ready to slit your throat. You’d do well to remember that.”

  He recoiled from the rancor in her voice, but sent a parting shot after her. “You’d do well to remember that I’ll make sure the Gilmour learn the truth. You’d best leave now. They might turn against you.”

  Vanora’s laugh bounced around the room. “You don’t know people the way I do. People are motivated by fear and greed. Once their mind is set, they care nothing for truth.” She slammed the door behind her.

  Alana hugged him to her. “Oh, Gavin, I fear for Aunt Elspeth.”

  With his chin on the top of her head, he murmured. “I’ll send some men to see what’s happened. Likely as not, she heard that Vanora was on her way home and left. You can’t blame her, can you?”

  He knew Alana remained unconvinced, but there was one good thing about Vanora’s return. If anyone could flush out the Kerr brothers, it was she.

  Chapter 22

  “A message from Matt Kerr, m’lord.” Dougal handed Gavin the smudged piece of paper. He opened the missive, surprised that Matt could write. Of course, the note possibly wasn’t written by him.

  Gavin read the note three times. “Matt and his brothers want me to meet them on Glen Baldy.” The glen was so named because the area was mostly bare, situated between hilly, forested land, and from a distance looked like the pate of a bald man. “They want me to come alone.”

  Apprehension showed in Dougal’s face. “It sounds to be a trap.”

  “It could be, but the note says they’ll leave if they see anyone other than me coming.” Gavin expelled a sigh. “You know the bare spot is on a rise. With a spy-glass they could see us from afar. The surrounding forest is either too thick with trees for a company of men to go through, or else so sparse, they’d be seen.”

  “We could go after them,” Dougal ventured.

  “They’ve probably laid out tracks from all directions so we’d not know which way they went, and they have hiding places…possibly Gilmour Hall. The castle isn’t far from Glen Baldy.”

  “Surely Lady Elspeth wouldna allow that.”

  “Lady Elspeth has left, according to Vanora.” Gavin wished he knew whether Vanora was spouting prattle or had done something to Elspeth. Surely not even Vanora would harm her own mother.

  “Maybe we could station men at the bottom of the hills and flush them out.”

  “We don’t have enough men for that. Others could be called in from the surrounding clans, but that would take time. This note says I’m to meet them at two o’clock, or they’ll leave.”

  “It’s after ten o’clock now.”

  Gavin squinted into the brilliant, cloudless sky. Visibility would be good, but that would benefit the Kerr brothers. “Go and get Rory and the castle guards. We’ll meet in my study and look over the maps.”

  Ten minutes later the men were gathered around a small table with maps spread out before them.

  “There’s an outcropping of stone in this area.” Keith pressed his fingertip on one of the maps. “That’ll be as far as we can go without being observed.”

  “That would be my thinking as well.” Rory glanced up from his hunched position, and his frown deepened as he made eye contact with Gavin. “If you’re determined to do this.”

  Gavin straightened. “I have no choice. I’ll have to get the Kerrs’ cooperation in order to implicate Vanora. While we’re talking, she could be raising a small army from the Gilmour.”

  “You give her more credit than she deserves,” Rory countered.

  “I know she’s evil and the Gilmour crofters are stupid.” Anger threaded Gavin’s voice. How could that little wench cause this much trouble? “Go and grab a bite to eat and get the horses saddled and ready. We have a fair ride ahead of us.” No need to spare any time to talk himself out of this.

  As the men trooped out, Gavin called Rory back. “I don’t want you to go.”

  Rory’s brow drew together in a hard line. “Why? You admit you’re short of men. I could at least—”

  “If anything untoward happens to me, I want you to take care of Alana.”

  “You can depend on me, but if you think it’s that dangerous—”

  “I have to have your word. She’s with child.”

  Rory’s eyes relaxed into an incredulous stare. “Is that so?” He smiled and slapped Gavin on the shoulder. “Congratulations, but all the more reason you shouldn’t take this chance. I’ll go. We look enough alike. They wouldn’t notice the difference at a distance.”

  “And what would happen when you come upon them?” Gavin clenched his hands into fists. “They’d knock you cold and escape. This is the only way. I must have your word, Rory. I want you to promise you’ll protect Alana. Take her and her maid back to McWayre Castle, if necessary.”

  Rory nodded. “All right, you have my word.”

  The brothers parted, and Gavin wasted no time but went straight to the stables. He didn’t want to wait until Alana came down. Then he’d have to remonstrate with her, though he’d sorely liked to have talked to her, to feel her embrace and her soft lips.

  Dear God help me. I don’t know what’s best to be done, but I know I’ll need Your help.

  He groomed his own horse, an enjoyable task, helping to calm him, and give him time to think and pray. The job of laird had been on his shoulders months before his father’s death, but this was the first decision with unknown consequences. He recalled his father’s advice. “After you’ve gained the advice of those you trust and sought God’s council, there comes a time when the decision is yours. Don’t blame anyone else for the outcome.”

  He didn’t fear for himself, but what others might suffer.

  “How will I know?” he’d asked his father.

  “In the end, all you can do is the best you can and hope for the best.”

  That’s the position where he stood now. Father wouldn’t have had these doubts. His gaze swept the sky once more. The sun had shifted slightly to the west, and right on time the men poured out of the house. Disgusted with himself for having doubts, Gavin swung into the saddle and wheeled his horse around. After they’d all mounted, he urged his stallion fo
rward.

  ***

  Alana overslept. Carrying a child must be more fatiguing than she’d realized because she’d found herself sleeping longer. Being too late for breakfast, she dressed and went below to eat her mid-day meal.

  After that, she went in search of Gavin, and when he was not to be found, anxiety tightened the cords in her neck. She’d expected to find him in his study, and something about the empty room frightened her.

  Maps were strewn over a table. She looked from one to the other, not making any sense of them. Her gaze traveled around the room for some clue. Then she spied a dirty piece of paper on the desk. With hurried gait, she glided to the desk and grabbed the paper, holding it to the light.

  The words sent a chill through her.

  She sought out Halberd and found him in the pantry, helping Cook.

  “Where is Lord Carmichael?” She didn’t even give the butler time to acknowledge her.

  Halberd turned around with his hands filled with a large crock pot. “I believe he left with the house guards and footmen a little while ago.”

  Cook walked up, brushing her hands on her apron. “That he did, m’lady. The men were in here eating their stew, and I overheard them talking. They were going after those highwaymen.”

  “How many men were there?” She shot the question to Cook. At least Gavin hadna left alone as the note had demanded.

  “With Master Rory and his lordship, there would be ten.” Cook suddenly slapped her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, my pies. Excuse me, m’lady.”

  Alana stared after the rotund woman’s retreating form. Would ten men be able to overpower the highwaymen? There were only four of the Kerrs, but who knew how many others there might be.

  She waited by the table where the servants took their meals until Halberd had finished his task. “Are there no men left at the castle except you?”

  “Nay, just me and the stable lad, but I shouldn’t worry. Master Gavin—I mean his lordship--can take care of the situation.”