His Highland Pledge (The Clan Sinclair Book 4)

by Celeste Barclay

  Deirdre nodded, but there was little else that either of them could do. They both knew she did not have a choice; the queen expected her to join the others.

  “I will be well. I will see ye at the evening meal.”

  Magnus watched as Deirdre pushed the door open just wide enough to slip in. He stood there for several minutes after she disappeared. He shook his head and went in search of his uncle.

  Deirdre stepped into the chamber and looked around. The scene was one she witnessed countless times over the past seven years. The queen sat in a large, high backed chair stitching while one lady read to her. Scattered around the room were ladies-in-waiting who knattered with one another while they embroidered. Some read quietly or in whispered tones to one another. She stepped further into the chamber, but unlike every other time she joined the queen, everything came to a screeching halt at that moment. Deirdre heard a buzzing in her ears as all eyes turned towards her. She looked around and saw a mixture of pity and haughtiness in the eyes that stared back. Her gaze landed on the queen who continued to sew. She was ready to breathe easy and find her own basket of sewing when the queen’s voice ricocheted around the silent chamber.

  “Lady Deirdre, it has come to my attention that I have a soiled dove among my dule.”

  Deirdre felt the blood pound in her ears as it amplified the buzzing. She looked at the queen, shocked to see the disgust on the woman’s face. This was the same woman to whom she confessed all when she arrived seven years ago. The very woman who had eased her transition into the royal household with kindness and patience. Deirdre could do little more than stare as she saw a different side to the queen, and she realized that as long as her dirty secret had remained just that, the queen had not cared just how soiled she was. However, she was no longer a girl of only six and ten. She did not consider herself soiled or damaged. She felt quite the opposite. A great burden was being lifted from her shoulders now that she no longer had to pretend to be something she was not.

  She looked around the room and found her cousin Elizabeth sitting wide-eyed and horrified. Her gaze darted between Deirdre and the queen as tears filled her eyes. She covered her mouth with her hands and shrugged. Deirdre gave her a small, reassuring smile before looking back at the queen.

  “A soiled dove, Your Grace? Mayhap a magpie or two as well.” Deirdre looked unflinchingly at the queen. Her words came out softly, but there was no missing the steel in her voice.

  “This does not concern you, Lady Deirdre? To be in the company of a young lady who has fallen from grace?”

  “I suppose it is a matter of who has fallen.” Deirdre lifted her chin almost defiantly.

  “I believe you and I already know, and have known for some time, of whom we speak.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. We have both known for quite some time, and it has been a topic best left alone this entire time. However, I see that is no longer the case,” Deirdre paused before looking directly at Mary Kerr who sat gloating beside the queen’s feet. “Is it a concern that such a damaged soul will lead others astray? Have not words spoken out of turn poisoned the water far more times than what takes place behind closed doors?”

  “Mayhap, but mere words are not a mortal sin.”

  Deirdre sucked in air through her teeth and ground them together. This was going far worse than she could have imagined. She wished now she had listened to Magnus and stayed in her chamber with him. She looked down at Mary and something about the woman’s spiteful look struck her as odd. She caught herself as she was about to squint. There was a level of enmity directed at her that could not have been just about her telling the queen about finding Magnus and Deirdre together. She might be fishing, but she wondered if her potential betrothal to Hay, Magnus’s attack, Mary’s vendetta, and her being exposed to the queen were not all related.

  “Is coveting thy neighbor’s wife, or mayhap future husband, not a sin?” Deirdre kept her eyes on the queen but used her peripheral vision to follow Mary’s reaction. “Is not pride, envy, and greed among the mortal sins? Lest we forget anger. That has led to more than one murder plot.”

  It was very subtle, but Deirdre caught Mary’s squirming. She looked down at the other young woman, temporarily forgetting about the queen.

  “Lady Mary, it seems that Lord Magnus was correct when he observed your brooch with the kestrel feathers. How truly unique. The only other time I have heard of anything wearing kestrel feathers here at court were the arrows shot at Lord Magnus. Such an odd coincidence.”

  If I am to go down, I amnae going alone. Let that bitch figure her way out of this. She can scratch and claw all she wants, but I amnae a kitten any longer. I’m a wildcat with claws, and I scratch back.

  Deirdre looked again at Mary and saw the unease creeping into her eyes.

  “Lady Mary, I am sure the queen is grateful for your bringing this matter of my unchaste behavior to her attention. I wonder though, did you make your own confessions when you were recounting my sins? ‘I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words, you will be condemned.’ Did you mention you covet the man who is to marry me?”

  Deirdre saw anger and fear flare in Mary’s eyes, and she wondered if there was more that she had yet uncovered. She thought quickly for a way to fish more information.

  “Do you carry a tendre for Lord Archibald?”

  Nay embarrassment or even shame, but there is certainly a look of warning. So, she doesnae have any soft feeling for him, but there is something she wants to keep hidden. What could she be hiding if it isnae—Nay! It couldnae be, could it?

  “Do you know, Lady Mary, that when you point a finger, there are still three more pointing back at you. How long has Lord Archibald been bedding you?”

  The room was already hushed, but a pin could have dropped in the deathly silence. The queen rose from her chair and glared at Deirdre.

  “That is enough, Lady Deirdre. You would besmirch another young lady’s reputation to deflect attention from your own vices. You have committed the sin of lust, and for that, you shall be removed from your position as a lady-in-waiting. You are to return to your chamber until your family can make arrangements to have you removed.”

  Deirdre had expected as much, but it still came as a shock to have all that she did to serve the queen for the past seven years swept aside. She curtseyed and was about to take her leave, but Mary’s look of triumph stopped her.

  “Your majesty, I believe you speak of the sin of lust, but the church sanctions marital relations between a man and his wife, therefore, it was never a sin. I handfasted with Magnus Sinclair when I was six and ten. My parents may have separated us, but that did not undo what was already done. I was wed to Magnus, so we had the blessing of our union to sanction our actions. Lady Mary has not had such a blessing. Her carnal actions do not even carry a betrothal as a justification. Lest we forget Saint Matthew, ‘Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?’”

  Deirdre pulled the door open behind her and stepped out without taking her eyes from the queen or Mary. It was only once the door was closed that she rested her forehead against it and exhaled a shaky breath. After several steadying breaths, Deirdre straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. She turned to walk towards her chamber only to be greeted by her irate parents.

  “Do nae speak,” her father hissed. He took her arm and led her through the passageways to her chamber. When they arrived, her mother unlocked the door and then pocketed the key. Her father thrust her into the chamber, and her parents followed her in. Deirdre was unprepared for her father’s hand to lash out, slapping her soundly across the cheek. She covered her stinging cheek with her hand as she looked in shock at her father. He had never raised his hand against her, not even when she was a young child.

  “Yer whoring is buzzing aboot every nook and cranny of this castle. As though it wasnae bad en
ough all those years ago, but now ye’re flaunting yerself for all to ken that ye let that bastard between yer thighs.”

  Deirdre gasped at his coarse language. She had never heard her father speak in such a way, and she had not heard his burr come out so strongly since before they moved to court.

  “Father—"

  “Silence!” His hand whipped across her other cheek. “Count yer bluidy blessings I dinna take a strap to ye. If ye think for even a moment that ye will build a future with that whelp, ye have lost the last bit of sense God gave ye. Ye will be a dutiful daughter and prostrate yerself at Lord Archibald’s feet and beg him for forgiveness. Ye had best pray that he accepts ye because we have already paid yer dowry to him, and yer bride price is as good as spent to secure that stewardship. We will have that land, and I dinna care at this point if he beats ye every day till ye breathe yer last. Ye would deserve it for humiliating the mon, for humiliating yer family. Ye had best accept him as yer husband and do aught that ye can to keep him pleased. Ye clearly have already practiced being a slut, now ye can put those skills to good use. Keep him pleased long enough to get a couple sons on ye, and then he might be generous and let ye live out yer days at one of his keeps. Dinna please him, and it will be out of our hands how he deals with ye. Ye arenae more than chattel as a daughter, and ye willnae be more than chattel as a wife. Ye could have made a fair go of yer marriage, but ye insisted on being a willful and ungrateful bitch. Ye’ve made yer bed. Now lie in it.”

  Laird Fraser moved to the door but paused when his wife did not follow him. He looked back, and for a brief second, he worried that he had gone too far and worried what his wife might say, but one look at the defiance on Deirdre’s face and his resolve returned.

  “You have had the best that any young woman could hope for. Your father indulged you at every turn when I warned him not to spoil you. The only thing that was ever asked of you was to be dutiful and marry as you were instructed. You turned yourself into a strumpet who pined away for a boy who was never suitable for you. Not just because of his Sutherland blood, though that never helped. He would never have been good enough because you would have been holed up on that Godforsaken north coast and served us no purpose here at court. You were such an insipid child. You believed whatever anyone told you. You believed he loved you but in the same breath, you believed us when we told ye he did not want you. You were much easier to control and manipulate when you were younger and still served a purpose. It no longer matters that you have become unruly. Your husband will surely cure you of that, and if he does not, well that is, as your father said, easily cured by being sent to a remote keep while your husband enjoys his mistress here at court.”

  “Deirdre,” She looked at her father, “the papers will be signed this vera afternoon and the betrothal announced before the king and queen this eve. Ye will be wed before the next moon.”

  Lady Fraser walked to the door and stood beside her husband.

  “You were always such a disappointment.”

  Her mother pounded the last nail into the coffin that held their familial relationship. Her parents left, and Deirdre heard the lock turn. There were muffled voices outside her door. Deirdre moved to it and pressed her ear against it. The words were garbled, but she could make out enough to understand that her parents posted a guard at her door. She was now a prisoner of her parents and the royal court.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Magnus felt unease leaving Deirdre at the door to the queen’s apartments, but he knew she was right. They had no other choice but for her to go in. He was on his way to find his uncle when a royal page stopped him and passed along a summons for him to meet with the king in the Privy Council chamber. Magnus prayed this meant he would receive the decrees that proved the king found in favor of the Sinclairs. He hurried to his audience with the king but stopped short when he saw Laird Fraser standing beside the king with his hands akimbo. He looked around and saw that there were only two scribes in the chamber and a couple of courtiers he did not know. Compared to usual, the chamber was virtually vacant. The hair on Magnus’s arms stood on end as a powerful sense of foreboding crept over him and settled on his chest. He entered and made his way directly to the king.

  “Yer Majesty,” Magnus bowed deeply.

  “Rise, Magnus. Enough of that. You’ve been here for days, and I’ve known you since you were in nappies. There is no one here that you need impress, and we are meeting in private.”

  I ken I dinna exactly need to impress the Fraser, a wee late for that, but forming any worse an impression certainly isnae going to do ma cause any good.

  “I have your writs signed there on the table. The seal is drying, and they should be ready for you within moments. Despite many testimonies against your family,” the king paused as Fraser’s chest puffed wider, “I feel that this is the correct course of action. I suppose this means you will leave for home now.” The king’s comments left nothing to the imagination. Magnus was being dismissed from court without having a chance to discuss the matter of his marriage to Deirdre.

  Magnus felt little choice, or he would never have the opportunity. He squared his shoulders and directed his gaze to Laird Fraser.

  I dinna fear him now. I amnae a lad he can threaten any longer.

  “There is one last matter, Sire.”

  “Oh?”

  “Aye, there is the matter of ma wife.”

  “I did not realize you were planning to wed.”

  “Nae planning, Sire, I am wedded,” he stressed the last syllable as he continued to look at the Fraser.

  Laird Fraser took a menacing step forward but froze when the king cleared his throat.

  “Your dalliance with Lady Deirdre has already been brought to my attention, Magnus. It has also been effectively put to an end. I have agreed to her betrothal and will sign the documents this evening when the announcement is made.”

  “It was never a dalliance, Yer Majesty, and I believe ye ken that.” Magnus was treading dangerous waters, but he refused to be pushed about by either man.

  “Listen here, lad. You dishonored and disgraced my daughter once, but I will not have it happen again. There was never any possibility of a match between you two. There was no way I would let my last daughter marry someone who would tuck her away in the wilds of the north never to serve her clan any good. There was no chance I would send my daughter to live among those who sided against her family.”

  “What are ye blathering aboot? Ma family never sided against yers in aught.” Magnus paused, and his eyes grew wide. “Is this aboot Lovat and the Mackenzies?”

  Laird Fraser glared at Magnus but refused to speak.

  “Bluidy hell, mon! That wasnae even yer sept of the Frasers. They may be the larger branch, but they reside almost across the bluidy country from ye. When it the last time ye even visited them? I doubt any time within the last score. Ye didna even pitch yer camp near theirs at any hunt or gathering.”

  “We are still all Frasers.”

  Magnus shook his head as he scowled at the older man.

  “How vera convenient for ye then and convenient for ye now. I dinna believe for a moment that that is the true reason for yer objection.” Magnus cocked his head and then grinned when realization flooded him. He remembered something that both Deirdre and his uncle told him. “This hasnae aught to do with ma father supporting the Mackenzies. This has everything to do with yer wife squeezing yer bollocks. She may have married ye, but she never got over Uncle Hamish’s rejection. If she couldnae marry into the Sutherlands, then she wouldnae let her daughter either, even if it was by a far stretch. She is a dog in the manger, and ye canna stop her.”

  Laird Fraser lurched forward with his fists clenched. He swung at Magnus, but the larger and younger man easily sidestepped him. Magnus spun around and kept his back to the wall.

  “And ye didna want Deirdre to marry me because ye believed I wouldnae do ye any good politically. Ye threatened me by using ma father’s good standing with the king. I wi
ll nae forget how yer threatened to tell the king I took advantage of Deirdre and that ma father would pay the price in coin and shame before the court. Ye may have been able to manipulate me at nine and ten, but ye neither scare me nor control me at a score and six.”

  Fraser rushed forward again and swung at Magnus. Magnus’s arm swept out to block the incoming blow. The leather bracer on Magnus’s forearm helped absorb some of the sting. Magnus bared his teeth and growled softly. Fraser’s next swing resulted in the older man’s wrist being pinned behind him thanks to Magnus’s greater reach and strength.

  “Cease, auld mon,” Magnus whispered, “ye’re making an arse of yerself before the king.”

  The reminder of the king’s presence snapped Laird Fraser back into the present, and he jerked away from Magnus. The king sat watching the confrontation but waved his guards away when they moved to intervene. Now the king leaned forward.

  “Magnus, I am aware that you handfasted with Laird Fraser’s daughter, and while consummating the relationship was within your rights, you did not have the right to pledge your troth, to begin with. Fraser did nothing wrong in removing his daughter to court, whatever his reasons. You have no claim over her now just as you had none all those years ago. Leave be, Magnus. What is done is done.”

  The king looked at Magnus once more before pulling a nearby scroll onto his lap and read it.

  Fraser gloated as Magnus bit his tongue to keep himself from admitting he and Deirdre had wed again, even if only by consent, and that they had consummated this marriage numerous times. Magnus backed from the chamber and would have kicked the wall if there had not been several other people in the passageway, many of whom seemed to have heard the scuffle coming from within the chamber only moments ago. Magnus nodded and moved to the passageway that would lead to his chamber.

  Magnus was almost to his door when he heard a whispered voice call his name, a decidedly feminine voice. One that was most definitely not Deirdre’s. He dreaded having to turn around as he was in no mood to evade a vapid husband hunting lady-in-waiting hoping to ensnare him into marriage. He decided to ignore the voice and continue to his chamber where he would lock the door from the inside.