by Rue Allyn
“Aeden,” she protested.
He overrode her objections with a gentle admonishment. “There’s no place for shyness between a husband and wife.”
Once back in bed, Aeden snuggled her to his side and enfolded her in his arms. She burrowed into his warmth, smiling when he let loose a huge yawn.
“You’ve worn me out, lass,” he professed and drew the blanket over them.
In a bit, the even cadence of his breathing lulled her into a kind of half sleep. Heavy-eyed, her mind drifted between both realms as she skated her fingers over his rib cage and categorizing what she loved most about him. She loved his strength and compassion, his fair treatment of his people and his single-minded ability to attain a goal. She stretched, loving how her body tucked into his. She loved the absentminded manner in which he stroked her back on down to the decadent way he squeezed her bottom, and she loved the touch of his strong fingers when he combed out the wet tangles in her freshly washed hair. She loved his teasing demeanor and his arrogance even though he infuriated at times.
It suddenly dawned on her that she loved him. At such a profound realization a senseless notion that perhaps panic might set in flitted through her mind, but loving Aeden just felt … right.
I need to say it.
She lifted her head and listened for his even breathing. Satisfied he slept, she laid back on his chest and whispered, “I love you, Aeden,” then drifted into a dreamless sleep.
• • •
Stunned, he lay there staring at the ceiling in utter disbelief. He recognized early on that she cared for him but, love him? Her declaration plunged his emotions into unexpected chaos. Never before had he been in such a peculiar frame of mind. He struggled with a truth he once thought of as indisputable.
From the moment his brother flayed his skin, he knew the unsightly, raised mass would keep women at a distance. It had made for a lonely existence. Even the woman whom he once kept as his leman showed an unwillingness to come into the briefest contact with his scars. For that reason the encounters were nothing more than an interlude to sate his carnal needs.
On the other side of it, when he yearned for a woman to see past the mutilation to the man underneath, an image of his father dispelled the idea. Even though his father found contentment with Onora, he never loved her with the same intensity of emotion he had shown Aeden’s mother. His mother’s death plunged his father into a state of melancholia that lasted throughout Aeden’s boyhood. Once he witnessed the utter devastation to a seemingly indestructible man, Aeden vowed never to surrender his heart to any woman.
So, why had it become impossible for him to remain detached whenever Elisande entered a room? He shook his head in denial. To encourage closeness outside of the marriage bed was too risky for his peace of mind. More than likely she fooled herself into thinking she loved him if only to make her adjustment here more palatable.
She murmured in her sleep and burrowed into his side, a soft smile on her kiss-swollen lips. He liked that about her, as if she couldn’t get close enough. He caressed her bare shoulder and listened to her sleepy sighs and decided it was good she loved him. Her attachment would ease her adjustment at Caeverlark, which he admitted had not been so effortless.
As if pulled by an invisible string he traced his finger along the sensitive skin of her arm. He had been drawn to her uniqueness from the very first, no matter her unusual beliefs. He would be foolish to dismiss the impact she affected in his life, and despite the mental barriers he tried to sustain, he admitted she occupied a large portion of his mind. He would grant her that but no more.
Chapter Twenty-One
Aeden arose before dawn, careful not to disturb his slumbering wife. Although, he surmised, a team of draught horses thundering through their bedchamber would not awaken her. Leaning over their bed, he smoothed a strand of hair away from her face and watched her a moment. The bedclothes were up to her chin and she curled into a tight ball the moment he vacated the bed.
Unable to resist, he pressed a kiss to her slightly parted lips. Her eyes fluttered at the contact and she unearthed an arm reached up and touched his ruined cheek.
“Aeden,” she whispered and dropped back off to sleep.
He tucked the plaid securely around her shoulders. After a moment of undisturbed contemplation, he quit their chamber.
Elisande’s declaration from the previous evening played in his mind repeatedly while he and his men rode out to the designated meeting place. Irritated by his wayward thoughts, he focused his attentions back to his surroundings. He glanced to the rear of the riding party and noted Addis stared at him, his hatred barely concealed.
Aeden disregarded his brother and signaled Ronan to draw near.
“Fergal tells me some of the men exchanged heated words with Addis. What bile is my brother spreading now?”
“It seems his violent rages have increased since your marriage. They no longer trust him,” Ronan grunted.
Aeden adjusted his broad sword across his back.
“My brother’s integrity has always come up wanting. The changes in his attitude have not been so subtle throughout the past year.”
“Since you gained the title,” Ronan finished.
“Aye, that is true, but even afore then Addis showed signs of unpredictable behavior.”
“I remember there were instances when your father treated him like a stranger.”
“Da was well aware of Addis’s dishonorable actions. He knew it was no’ something my brother would overcome.”
“Having been privy to your father’s confidences a time or two, I know he never intended to leave this burden with you,” Ronan replied.
“Yet it has fallen to me and I have no problem seeing his plans through. Addis and I have never shared a bond. He hates me and God help me, I despise him. It is past time to mete out his punishment. Does he question why he rides with us today?”
Ronan shook his head.
“Although he has been talking against this new alliance with the Kerr clan,” Ronan shook his head in disgust.
“I would expect naught else from him since it was a scheme of mine,” Aeden sneered.
“Your brother thinks with his purse strings and never for the good of the clan.”
Ronan glanced over his shoulder. “I vow he has no’ taken his gaze from you since the sun dawned.”
Aeden shrugged. “He may become cross-eyed from the strain if that is his desire. Come nightfall he will no longer be my concern.”
He pinned Ronan with a look. “I want all to go smoothly. If my brother so much as opens his mouth to draw breath, make certain he does no’ by any means fair or foul.”
Ronan nodded his assent and the two traveled along the hilly terrain in alert silence.
When the sun burned at its brightest, Aeden crested a rise that overlooked a bountiful valley. Beyond the river, the Kerr holding tunneled into the side of a mountain. He thought the construction of the holdings’ backside cunning. A sheer drop to the murky loch below awaited anyone foolish enough to breech the castle. A horn trumpeted in the distance to signal their approach. Within moments, they were encircled by guards, divested of their weapons and ushered into the great chamber where the chief of Clan Kerr made Aeden welcome.
Bran clapped Aeden on the back and clasped his forearm in greeting.
“How are you, my boy?”
Aeden returned the robust grip. “’Tis good to see you, old friend.”
Bran propelled Aeden to a chair. Ronan took up a position behind him and they made idle talk until Aeden broached the subject of Addis.
Bran nodded his head agreeing with Aeden and added, “It’s a shame you can’t kill him outright, or formulate a mishap.”
“Those stratagems would only thrust me into an inquiry. Unfortunately, Addis’s war arm is prized by our king. He knows of the dissension in our family.”
“Can you not task one of your men?”
Aeden shook his head. “I would never expect one of my men to do s
omething that I myself will no’ do.”
Bran nodded his head. “I need a sheep-tender on the northern most sector of my land. The area borders the MacFarlane’s and we all know they be a bloodthirsty lot. Your brother steps a foot across the boundary line and he shall get a bludgeoning he won’t soon forget.”
“How far is this out-posting?” Aeden enquired.
“He will be well enough away from the holding, and nigh impossible a walk, so ’tis.”
Ronan scoffed. “A day’s walk is naught for a Lowlander, and in fair weather.”
“Aye, aye,” Chief Kerr agreed. “’Tis fair weather now, and assuming he makes a move, the far border-land is nothing save stony flats with nary a place to shelter. He won’t be able to build a fire without gaining notice of the guards on the battlements.”
“I thank you, Bran.”
The Kerr waved away Aeden’s gratitude.
“I gladly do this in payment for the service your Da, God rest him, performed for me. If it weren’t for his actions, my son would be dead.”
Aeden accepted the mark of respect, spending the next half hour trading stories about his father, both amusing and heroic.
“Come now, and let us eat. It will be half the day afore the other clans join us, and I canna speak for you, but I have a hard enough time listening to auld MacElroy natter away, and I don’t intend to do it on an empty stomach.”
Laughing, they settled themselves at the polished oak table situated atop a dais. Black crow pie, squab, suckling pig, and a vegetable pottage were served. They quenched their thirst with a fresh batch of honey-mint mead and passed around warm, crusty loaves of bread.
• • •
Aeden watched the servants pour drinks for the other chieftains’ settled around the table and waited for the salute. Bran shoved back his chair and raised his cup and clinked it against Aeden’s. Aeden turned to the chief on his right and repeated the practice until the last clan chieftain followed suit. With the formalities out of the way, he nodded to his men to take a seat at the opposite table and Ronan crossed to stand behind his chair.
Bran directed his comments to Aeden.
“Aeden, I understand you’ve taken a woman, and by all accounts she is quite comely.”
Aeden shifted in his seat. “Aye,” he confirmed, saying nothing more. The gossips were in full flag and he didn’t appreciate his wife’s attributes being bandied about.
Ronan expounded on Aeden’s curt reply.
“Comely? She is of a rare beauty the likes of which no man ever beheld, and gifted with healing hands imparted by the Almighty himself.”
Aeden swiveled in his chair and glowered at his friend. He was well aware he reacted like a jealous fool, but couldn’t do otherwise. He didn’t relish the idea of every lame man in the Lowlands showing up on his doorstep in the hopes of being personally ministered to by his beautiful wife.
“Rare in her beauty you say?”
Bran’s arched eyebrows would have retreated into his hairline had he still sported one. Enthused, he turned to Aeden.
“It seems I must plead an invitation to meet Lady Maxwell. And by the scowl on your face you just may refuse me.”
Bran laughed at his own jest.
“Mayhap, I’ll soon find myself plagued by an ailment.” He shook a finger in Aeden’s face. “You could not turn me away then.”
Before Aeden responded, a voice from the other side of the table called out, “Healing hands from God stretches the truth. Would you not agree, brother?”
“Hold your tongue,” Ronan barked.
Kiernan jabbed Addis with an elbow.
Addis shoved Kiernan and stood up to loom over the table.
“I’ll not keep silent. I think it only right Bran Kerr knows he has made an alliance with a man who harbors a witch.”
“That’s chief to you, boy,” Bran corrected.
The bustle and chatter in the hall stalled abruptly. All heads swiveled in Aeden’s direction. Aeden ignored every man in the room as he locked eyes on his prey.
“Repeat your words. I do no’ believe I heard you right.” His voice was deadly soft.
“Slandering a man’s wife is a serious offense, Addis. Honorable men keep women and children out of hostilities. Only a coward uses them to wage war,” Bran spat, his disgust evident.
“To defame a chieftain’s wife is folly indeed, but from the mouth of one’s own brother, ’tis an indisputable affront,” Chief MacCarry added.
Addis smirked at the other chiefs, but the arrogant smile faded fast when he turned his eyes on Aeden. His brother must have sensed the rage pouring off of him, and to Aeden’s satisfaction, he witnessed a true burst of fear in Addis’s expression just before the other dropped his eyes to the tabletop.
He also noted Addis didn’t retract the grave insult to Elisande.
“I’m sure my brother believes the clans present here this eve would take the word of a man who has proven time and again he would do anything to gain a title that was never his.”
Aeden treated Addis to a knifelike stare while he grappled with his seething temper. He did not want to demonstrate to his brother he cared for Elisande. Addis would use it as a weapon against him. Aeden shifted and sent a wordless signal to Ronan, who, drifted to the left and just forward of Aeden’s chair.
Addis slapped his hands on the table.
“The title of chief was never yours. You stole it from me. I am the next in line and it’s my right to claim that title by heredity. My father set a dangerous precedence by sidestepping me.”
“Heredity is not always an absolute. It’s at the discretion of the current chief to be certain his clan is passed into capable hands.” Bran paused before continuing. “And it is more than apparent why Gavin preferred Aeden’s leadership to yours.”
Addis’s face reddened.
“If my father were still alive, he would have never stood by to watch the clan be manipulated by an English slut.”
Aeden’s chair shot back as he launched across the table, upending goblets of mead and tankards of ale. He seized Addis by the throat and sent them both tumbling to the floor. He regained his footing first and dragged his brother up against the wall until the toe of Addis’s boots scraped the rushes for purchase. He was gratified to hear chairs shoved backwards as men jumped to their feet ready to defend his wife’s honor.
Ronan emerged at Aeden’s side, equally outraged by Addis’s accusations.
“Break the bastard’s neck,” he urged.
“Your suggestion has merit.”
Addis’s eyes widened. In desperation, he fought to pry Aeden’s hands from around his neck.
“I will have your apology … Brother.” It wasn’t a request.
“Aye, or you’ll be tasting my fist,” Ronan threatened.
“You will have naught from me,” he wheezed.
Aeden stabbed Addis with a razor-sharp glare. He enunciated each word so his brother and everyone gathered in the hall would not make the mistake of misunderstanding.
“Addis Maxwell, from this evening forward, you are forever banished from Maxwell lands.”
To emphasize the point, Ronan grabbed a handful of plaid and ripped it off Addis’s body, leaving him in his long linen under shirt.
In an abrupt motion, Aeden loosened his choke-hold on Addis’s neck. The unexpected move dropped him to the floor like a sack of dirt. He made one attempt to stand, but Aeden pinned him to the rushes with a heavy boot to the chest.
“Wallow in the filth where you belong.”
“You can’t banish me. Only the lawful chieftain of clan Maxwell has the right to banish his followers. And I am the rightful chief.”
Aeden shoved off from Addis’s chest. His brother’s grunt of pain brought a tight smile to Aeden’s face. Despite his bravado, Addis didn’t try to stand again. Aeden towered over him, arms crossed feet shoulder’s width apart. Without taking eyes from his brother, he gave a discreet nod to Ronan and waited.
Ronan leapt
onto a nearby table effectively capturing the attention of the various clan members. He waited for the men to quiet down before he put a question to them.
“Who amongst you believe Aeden Maxwell, second son of Gavin Maxwell, should forfeit chieftain, stepping aside to make way for the first son, Addis Maxwell?”
Immediately a voice from the back of the chamber bellowed, “We follow Aeden!”
A cacophony of voices shouted in agreement.
“The second son is the rightful heir — ”
“Gavin Maxwell named Aeden as his heir — ”
“The title belongs to Aeden Maxwell — ”
Not one opposed.
Addis erupted. “You have turned them against me!”
“You accomplished the deed on your own,” Aeden barked.
“Mark my words, brother. I will take everything away from you, just as you have taken all from me. No one and nothing in your possession is secure.”
Unconcerned, Aeden calmly turned his back on his brother and walked purposefully to his seat. The clan surrounded Aeden, slapping him on the back, confirming their support. He accepted his men’s good wishes, all the while dismissing Addis from his mind. Not one follower spared his brother a glance. To them, he no longer existed.
Aeden nodded his assent to Bran’s unspoken question, who in turn, gestured for his guards to remove Addis from the great chamber. Two men flanked him on either side, lifted him to his feet and restrained his movements.
“Take your hands off me. I don’t need your assistance in leaving,” Addis sneered.
“Bran — ” Aeden shouted over the din.
“I hear you are in dispute with the MacFarlane, is this true?”
“Aye, Aeden,” he hollered in return.
“Everyone knows how murderous they be, and I lost a good sheep-tender during a border dispute. Mayhap you know of a man who might enjoy such a lonely, desolate abode? You see, ’tis a good week’s stroll to the northern boundary, and not an assignment relished by many men.”
Aeden swiveled his head and nailed Addis with a pointed look.
Addis sputtered and struggled against his captors in earnest.
