by Nicole Locke
Ailsa spun around. Rory closed the door behind him. His clothes were dusty which could only mean that he’d helped with the fields or with training. ‘It appears so did you.’
‘Your father had nothing else on his agenda, I thought I’d take advantage of it. Why are you here?’
‘Mary and Hannah are looking after our patients.’
‘Is Hannah with Paiden? If so, I should warn her that he can be quite charming when he wants to be.’
She had no doubt. That man was all too free with his smiles. ‘Hannah can take care of herself. Moreover, Mary still wants to tend Hamish, though I don’t fully understand why, after what he ordered her to do.’
‘In my years, I have seen great men do terrible things and terrible men rise to occasions,’ Rory said surrounding her in his arms. ‘People are surprising with their actions.’
‘You surprised me,’ Ailsa said. ‘When Mary said it was Hamish who ordered the poisoning, you didn’t demand retribution.’
‘Because quickly after, Mary confessed Hamish targeted your father. It wasn’t about me or Paiden then.’
It was about her. Generations of strife and hatred worked to keep them separated, yet she and Rory... She didn’t dare believe there could be more, but when he said things like this, she couldn’t help but hope.
Which made it all the worse when she remembered Rhona’s story and the fact she kept secrets from him.
‘How is he faring?’
Rory chuckled. ‘He asked about the bruises. I told him I didn’t know where they came from.’
‘He believed you?’
‘No, we’ve known each other too long, but I won’t be telling that story until we are well drunk and years have gone by.’
None in the room told of what Mary had confessed to. That Hamish had given the order. What it would have taken for Mary to lace the goblet knowing the harm she could do... Ailsa couldn’t comprehend it. As for then turning the poison on to Hamish, Frederick couldn’t fault her. It aided his proposal of marriage between the clans. Further, it protected his daughter and her new husband.
Knowing that it was her father Mary had intended to harm, Ailsa tried to find some vengeful emotion within her. Her father was very dear to her, but Mary was broken, and her remorse so great, that even if Ailsa rained down all the wrath she had on Mary, she could do no worse than what Mary was putting herself through.
As for her father, he’d had a discussion in private with the servant. What was said, Ailsa didn’t know, but some understanding was between them now and she left it alone.
‘Here we are with the whole evening ahead of us,’ she said, enjoying the dusty scent of him. Knowing that soon he’d wash the day away, and then it would be just them. ‘Because I told my father he needed his rest.’
Rory gave her a wolfish smile. ‘Truly?’
She nodded. ‘He looks tired, but I didn’t know if he’d do it.’
‘Well, he decided to so...’ Rory stroked down her arms and back up again ‘...we can work on giving him grandchildren sooner rather than later.’
Ailsa felt her skin flush. Even after all the nights they spent together, each of them with very little sleep, she couldn’t believe her good fortune that this man was her husband.
And yet... ‘With Paiden mending, you’ll be able to return home soon.’
Rory’s arms dropped. ‘Home?’
And here was the other matter. So much shared between them, but not Rory’s past or his future. He was the acknowledged son of Lochmore’s Chief and that was something they could not avoid much longer.
As much as she wanted to stay in his arms, to while away the night as they had been doing, there were some matters that needed to be discussed. Ailsa strode to the bed and sat down.
‘We’re married,’ she said.
Rory moved to a chair to unlace his shoes. ‘For some days now.’
One lace, then the other as she gathered her courage for what she needed to say. ‘I know of the letters to your family. I know you wrote them...but they weren’t returned.’
Rory threw his shoes in a corner, the heavy clunk sounded with finality. ‘My family is complicated, Ailsa.’
‘Any more than mine?’
He stood to unhook his belt, to remove his trousers. She waited patiently, knowing when he finished this task, he’d go to the water basin warmed by the fire and clean the dust away as he had done every night.
She waited, knowing these tasks were necessary for Rory as he thought about her question. After all, he obviously never intended to talk to her about his family.
But then he ripped his tunic up and over his head and her thoughts turned from Rory and his past to just...him. The sunlight was dimming and the firelight was taking over their room. His body carried many scars and many more bruises, recent ones from training his men, yet she’d never known anything more magnificent. Except maybe the way he made her feel when he... ‘Are you trying to tempt me?’
‘Perhaps.’
She wouldn’t answer him. She couldn’t as she watched the way he strode to the basin.
‘You’re being quiet for you,’ he said.
‘Just being patient. I’m on the bed and you like your sleep. You can’t avoid me or my questions for ever.’
A rough exhalation. ‘I don’t want to.’
It was a start. Maybe this something new she felt, he did, too. ‘Your family didn’t come to the wedding, Rory. They didn’t come knowing Paiden was on his deathbed. Do they hate you?’
‘Thus enters my blunt-tongued wife.’
‘I thought you liked my tongue.’
It almost looked as if Rory flushed. ‘I’m baring myself to you and washing the dirt of the day away, Ailsa. Don’t put images in my head unless you’re prepared for the consequences.’
‘I like...consequences, just not now,’ she said.
He tossed the linen aside. ‘This is important to you? We have enough with your family. Your sisters are rather devious and your father works harder than twenty men.’
‘Hamish will die soon from illness or from poison and my clan is severely divided,’ she said. ‘But I still want to know about you.’
He glanced to his clean clothing, and then strode to the bed. She shifted so he could come between her legs. The dark of his eyes darkened further and she knew it matched her own. ‘Ailsa,’ he growled leaning forward. ‘You can’t look at me the way you do and think I won’t respond.’ He was going to kiss her and she wanted him to. But just before their lips touched, he suddenly pulled away.
‘There’s something I need to show you,’ he said, opening the trunk at the base of the bed and pulling out a rectangular flat box. Eyeing it, and her, he held it aloft.
‘You want to show me that now?’ she asked, knowing she sounded disappointed.
Rory’s lips curved. ‘My family sent it when we married, but with everything happening, I forgot.’
‘I gather it’s important?’
‘It could be.’ Rory eyed the box which had been in the large trunk that Duff had brought over from Lochmore land. It was different than he remembered it, but it had been years since he saw it last. If his father honoured his marriage, the box would contain Lochmore brooches. One for each of them indicating their position in the clan, and the unity with each other. With an almost giddy eagerness, he couldn’t wait to pin the brooch to her gown.
‘I’m happy then.’
She meant it. All this time, he’d raged against his life. He came to McCrieff land wanting to secure his own future, only to realise with the McCrieff clan’s division that future was wrenched away from him. Positioned by Lochmores, manipulated by McCrieffs.
But this woman, what had she done? Only offered to save her clan, Paiden’s life...his own. By marrying Ailsa, he had gained something important for his future, a family he had always wanted.
<
br /> His own family hadn’t come to his wedding, but she offered him the possibilities of a future where he could be happy, have children. Where the strife around them would be something they would face together. And at night, they could privately find peace. With the contents of this box, however, the Lochmore familial brooches, no one would question what she meant to him, what they meant to each other.
With a snap, he opened the lid, only to see...
‘What is it?’ Ailsa asked.
A white roaring filled Rory’s head and his vision narrowed as he focused on the contents. The box...the box wasn’t the one that he remembered.
Ailsa huffed as if greatly wounded. It wasn’t a sound she ever made so he glanced to her. A teasing light was in her eye. He couldn’t reciprocate it. Shock, anger and now this gut-wrenching emptiness wrested away his hope. If someone had taken a sword to his gut, he’d feel no different.
‘If you think I’m disappointed with that necklace and ring you’re mistaken,’ Ailsa said, peering into the box, her tone as light as her eyes, ‘I would have preferred something more practical. Still, I could make do if—’
Rory slammed the lid and tossed the box on to the trunk. Division here, division in his family. And one he obviously created by marrying a McCrieff. There were no brooches in the box. It was clear his family did not recognise their marriage. He’d done everything he could to please his father. Even marrying this woman, in part, had been done for the clan. Why did he even try?
A gentle tug on his bare arm and he fell into green eyes and a gentle expression.
‘Where did you go?’ she asked.
If he explained, he’d sound like a bitter mad man. He’d worked tirelessly with the intrigue here, he’d braced himself for poison to hit him, or a sword to come slashing down in the middle of the night. He was on McCrieff land and he had expected betrayal here.
Never, not once, from his own family. Yet that is what they had done. They hadn’t come to his wedding and they didn’t offer the brooches that would acknowledge his marriage. Maybe his suspicions were true. Maybe he wasn’t his father’s son, and this, now, was how they told him.
Another tug, this time behind his neck as Ailsa pulled him closer. ‘Rory, you’re mostly naked.’
Her hand was warm, her words finally registering. His wife. Deceit from the McCrieffs. Betrayal from Lochmores. Caring...a chance at love, with Ailsa.
That thought, that certain bone-deep knowledge pulled the sword in his gut free and he felt a sudden dizzying freedom. This blunt-tongued woman whom he wanted more than anything or anyone just told him she wanted him. He’d take her.
‘You, however, are clothed,’ he said.
‘Of course I am, this gown has laces,’ she said, pressing light kisses along his jaw and down his neck.
‘Not for much longer.’
Chapter Fifteen
With Ailsa curled up next to him, Rory could want for nothing more. Everything about this moment, about this woman, was right. As for the rest, his family be damned—by her side was where he needed to be.
‘Are your feet cold?’ he asked, aware that she kept sliding one foot down his leg and then back up again. Every time, the movement slightly dislodged her from his hold so he curled her tighter into him.
A muted laugh. ‘I was wondering if our feet could touch like this. You’ve a considerable size to you if you hadn’t noticed.’
He’d wondered when his size would bother her. It hadn’t taken long. Shifting, he tried to give her room so she could extricate herself. In response, Ailsa dug her nails into his arm and curled closer.
‘You don’t like it that you’re taller than most?’ she asked.
He couldn’t get much past his observational wife. ‘It is something I have been both pleased and ungrateful for my entire life.’
‘Like the colour of my hair.’
He twirled a lock between his fingers. ‘Never disparage your hair.’
‘So stop leaning against walls to make yourself look smaller.’
It was his turn to laugh. ‘That’s not why I do that.’
‘Then why?’
‘It’s because none of the furniture at home fitted me.’
She gave a slight hum before answering. ‘Hamish’s furniture fits you.’
‘Hamish’s furniture? Maybe I should have measurements done for Lochmore’s castle.’
‘I never thought of that,’ she said. ‘Where we would live.’
Rory loosened his hold enough to look at her. ‘After everything, did you think we would live here?’
‘I suppose with Hamish here, you wouldn’t want to stay.’
‘It’s not Hamish. Your Chief will soon die, but your father is well and has many years left. It is right that he rules and takes proper control of his clan.’
‘With fewer Lochmores to poison,’ she said. ‘I don’t know if Hannah knows enough.’
Her clan would be without a healer. That was something he had not thought of, but it was the right decision to return to Lochmore land. ‘You can travel back and forth, it is not very far. Your family is here and they will want to see you.’
Ailsa pressed her palms to his chest to look down at him. What she could see of him in the darkness, he didn’t know. Yet she looked at him for so long, he almost wanted to joke like Paiden, but her expression was serious.
‘While you remain on Lochmore land?’ she finally said.
There was no satisfactory answer to that. It would cause more problems for her clan if he remained on McCrieff land. His own personal reasons why he didn’t want to return to Lochmore were inconsequential.
At his silence, Ailsa laid down again. ‘You seem...reluctant to return home. What was it about the box, Rory?’
Blunt tongue and too observant despite the darkness. ‘We can think more on where we live. And do not worry about the box, the contents are yours.’
‘That is for the better, I already have plans to carve out the stones and melt the silver so that I could share it with my sisters.’ She patted him. ‘Your mother won’t care, would she? Maybe we should go to Lochmore Castle to ask her.’
‘Ailsa,’ he growled.
There was frustration, teasing and a warning in that sound that he could not suppress. He could tell, immediately, Ailsa took all those emotions as truth. ‘Am I the reason you do not want to return home?’
He didn’t want to return to Lochmore Castle because he didn’t believe he belonged there, not her. Never her, yet his family had not given him the brooches. They did not acknowledge his marriage. They did not acknowledge her. ‘Lochmore clan will adore you despite your past as a McCrieff.’
‘My past,’ she scoffed.
So much separated their families. So much might separate their future. It was a great weight that had been placed on their shoulders. ‘Will the past...will a story always separate our clans despite what we do?’
She sighed and he felt her warm breath against his chest. ‘Despite how many babies we have, it seems one McCrieff babe may always haunt our lands.’
‘McCrieff babe?’
‘The baby from the Great Feud.’
Surely she couldn’t believe the baby born seventy years ago was a McCrieff. Rory shifted to get a better view of her, but Ailsa held firm to him and all he could see in the dark were the tendrils of her hair against his chest and her hand, gently roughened from years of tending gardens, laid flat against his stomach. Though he dearly wanted to see her expression, he didn’t dare dislodge himself from her hold.
‘We are talking of the Great Feud?’ He kept his voice light.
‘Unless you know another one?’
This couldn’t be. Ailsa was so straightforward. Direct. She didn’t lie ever and she didn’t tolerate any falsehoods either. So for her to believe the baby to be a McCrieff and not a Lochmore was something she thou
ght was the truth.
‘You believe the baby to be McCrieff’s versus Lochmore’s? Tell me.’
She glanced up at him, her eyes reflecting amusement and confusion. ‘That’s how the story was told to me. I believe it to be true.’
It never dawned on him that the story could be different. But why? It was naïve to think otherwise. ‘I want to hear it as you were told.’
‘You don’t sound as if you do.’
‘You’ve surprised me is all. Again.’
She patted his chest and settled her head down. ‘Well, then. The McCrieff Chief loved her. Wanted to marry her. I think she was scared and went back to her clan and married Lochmore’s Chief.’
Rory placed his hand on hers. ‘So the baby—?’
‘Was certainly McCrieff’s. Why else would he have flown to Lochmore land and challenged him when they both died?’
‘McCrieff challenged Lochmore because he was spurned. Because of his pride. Because the woman he cast aside found happiness and he couldn’t tolerate it.’
Ailsa propped herself up to look at him. ‘That woman broke his heart. He let her go because he loved her, but that babe was his. He knew it as sure as anything.’
‘Never.’
‘Thus, the McCrieff–Lochmore Great Feud continues between us. Except...’ Ailsa started. ‘We could end it. Between us.’
Rory couldn’t see how it was possible. ‘Once Hamish dies, Frederick will rule.’
‘Yes, but as much as I don’t want to talk of it, once his rule is done, Frederick will have free rein. I think he was waiting for you. I think that’s why he invited you here.’
‘He invited me?’ Rory asked. ‘He almost started a war by ignoring a king’s decree and a chief’s missive.’
‘Possibly,’ she said. ‘But you have to admit, it was rather clever.’
‘Your father certainly saved face by marrying you to me to justify the giving of such precious lands,’ Rory said.
‘Do you mean that?’
Old beliefs didn’t just disappear. Especially not when motivations such as greed, power, control were at stake. ‘It all comes back to the land that the King granted to Lochmores.’