Castles, Kilts and Caresses

by Carmen Caine

  “Certainly, my lady, but the laird went out with a hunting party and I don’t expect him back until late this afternoon. Tomas seemed upset earlier, is there anything I can do?”

  “Nay, thank ye, Diarmad, it is probably just a combination of rich food and late nights,” she assured him. Because Tomas had no idea who he had overheard, she did not intend to tell anyone the real problem until she had talked to Niall.

  Chapter 19

  Finally, very late in the afternoon, Niall returned from hunting. He learned of Fingal’s accident immediately and left his horse with the stable master. He intended to go straight upstairs to check on his brother, but Malcolm called to him when he entered the great hall. “Niall, lad, come join me,” he said, motioning to a servant to bring another tankard of ale.

  “I’ll be down in a few minutes, I just want to see how my clumsy brother is faring.”

  “There is no need to rush to Fingal’s side,” teased Malcolm. “It was merely a flesh wound and your wife has tended him well. She has been absent from us all afternoon. I’m sure if there were any problem with Fingal we would know about it. Come, sit and warm yourself.”

  Niall scowled. “If it was only a flesh wound, why was it necessary for Katherine to spend the afternoon tending him?”

  “Well, ye know women—they all love the attention of handsome young men. A captive audience is irresistible.” He winked.

  Niall fumed as he headed for the east tower. He went straight to Fingal’s chamber and entered without knocking, only to find Fingal alone and asleep. As he left the room, Niall met Diarmad in the corridor.

  “How fares your brother this evening?” asked Diarmad.

  “He is asleep.”

  “He has been most of the afternoon. Katherine gave him a potion when she stitched him up.”

  “Katherine didn’t stay with him?”

  “I don’t know, I don’t think so. Turcuil and Edna have kept an eye on him and were to notify Katherine if anything changed. Although with love blossoming, I am not sure they would notice. I believe she is in your chambers with Tomas now. He apparently is not feeling well. She wanted to see ye as soon as ye returned from hunting.”

  “Tomas is ill, too?” Niall headed to the stairs without waiting for an answer. When he reached their chamber, he found Katherine sitting with Tomas on her lap telling him a story.

  She looked up and her face flooded with relief, “Oh Niall, I am so glad you’re home.” She stood Tomas on the floor and crossed the room to hug him.

  He returned her hug, and put his hand on Tomas’ face, saying, “Diarmad said Tomas is ill.” Although the boy appeared to be upset, he didn’t feel feverish.

  “He isn’t ill,” Katherine explained. “Something very upsetting happened yesterday and I wanted to talk to ye about it. I thought it better to keep him away from—everyone, until I did. Tomas, tell your da what ye told me.”

  Tomas told the same story about slipping downstairs unnoticed and overhearing the whispered conversation. “Da, I don’t want ye to die,” he said as he burst into tears again.

  Niall felt the anger rising in him but he tried not to let it show. “Stop crying, Tomas, I am not going to die, but I need ye to tell me as much as ye can about what ye overheard. Were they men? Did ye recognize either voice?”

  “They were whispering and I couldn’t hear them well. I think they were men, but I don’t know for sure.”

  “What exactly did they say?” pressed Niall.

  Tomas looked scared and Katherine said, “Tomas, Da isn’t angry with ye, he just wants ye to try to remember everything ye can.”

  “One person said everything was arranged and it would end in your death, Da, and he said Duncurra would belong to the other person then. The other person said he pretended to be something for too long. He was the one who said he was sorry. He wasn’t the one who would kill ye, because he wanted ye to know it was him. That’s all I remember.”

  Seething, but not wanting to scare Tomas more than he already was, Niall said, “It will be all right, don’t worry.” Then the laird sent for Rab and instructed him to take the boy to his chamber and to let no one other than himself or Katherine into the room. When they were finally alone, he turned to Katherine and said with barely contained wrath, “It must be Fingal.”

  “Fingal?” Katherine said, aghast. “Niall, it certainly is not Fingal. He is loyal to ye—he loves ye.”

  “Nay, Katherine, he loves ye,” Niall spat. “It can only be him. He thinks he would be Duncurra’s heir if I died. My dear little brother may have waited too long. He doesn’t realize there is another heir on the way.”

  “Niall, I think ye are jumping to conclusions. Talk to Fingal about this rationally.”

  “I will talk to Fingal, but I can’t right now because he is sleeping off the potion ye gave him,” Niall snapped. The stunned look on Katherine’s face did not cool his anger, even though part of him knew he was being irrational.

  Katherine stammered, “I-I just gave him something to help with the pain.”

  “Well, we certainly wouldn’t want Fingal to be uncomfortable, would we?”

  She remained silent for a moment, then said softly, “What are we going to do about Tomas?”

  “We aren’t going to do anything. Tomorrow, after Fingal wakes, I will get to the bottom of this. If ye aren’t too busy tending my brother, I will take ye down now for the evening meal. Don’t speak of this to anyone.”

  Katherine said no more. During the meal Niall knew by his people’s reactions his unusually short-temper was clearly apparent. Katherine remained subdued and quieter than normal. Fine, everyone will assume we are arguing and there will be nothing to explain. As soon as dinner was over, Niall offered his apologies to Malcolm and Eithne, retiring with Katherine. On their way up the stairs, Katherine said, “I would like to check on—”

  “Fingal?” Niall said sharply. “Don’t ye think ye have offered him enough comfort for one day?”

  Katherine folded her hands in front of her and took a deep breath before saying with a controlled, calm voice, “Niall, I would like to check on our son before we retire. It is not necessary for me to check on Fingal. His wound is not serious. I’m not sure what I’ve done to anger ye, but I have not seen Fingal since I stitched him up this afternoon. As soon as I bandaged his wound, I gave instructions to Turcuil and Edna to look after him. I have not been back since then. If anything goes awry, they will let me know.”

  Niall wondered why she would say this when Malcolm had clearly told him she was with Fingal, but he didn’t call her on the lie. “I will go check on Tomas. Ye go to bed.”

  “Niall, he is afraid. I want to see him and kiss him goodnight.”

  “Do not argue with me tonight,” he growled, opening the door of their chamber for her. She walked silently past him and he shut the door before she could say anything else.

  When Niall returned, he found Katherine combing her hair, getting ready for bed. She looked so very beautiful, and even though he was angry, he ached with need for her. Why had she spent the afternoon with Fingal and lied to him about it? He pulled her roughly into his arms. With one arm he held her to his chest, knotting his other hand in her hair so she could not turn away. His lips slanted across hers and his tongue plundered her mouth relentlessly. She responded to him by wrapping her arms around his neck and returning his kiss ardently.

  He broke the kiss. “Why did ye lie to me?” He searched her face for a clue to what she was thinking but saw only confusion.

  “Niall, I don’t know what ye are talking about. I have never lied to ye and I never will. I love ye.”

  He gave her another searing kiss, wanting to believe her. He remembered the unbearable pain of betrayal at the hands of a woman whom he thought he loved, and didn’t think he could live through that again. When he drew away from her, he said fiercely, “Ye are mine, Katherine. Ye are mine. I will not share ye!”

  “Aye, Niall, I am only yours, completely and forever. I l
ove ye.”

  He wondered if he was mad for believing those words, but he wanted them to be true. He carried her to the bed and made love to her urgently and passionately. She responded to his every touch with abandon. He wanted her, needed her, as he had never wanted or needed another person. How could she possibly understand that, and how could she possibly feel the same way about him? He poured his searing need into their joining, as if by the sheer intensity of his love-making he could convey all of this to her.

  ~ * ~

  Afterwards, when they both lay spent, his slow, regular breathing signaled that he slept. She lay with her head over his heart, gently stroking his chest and shoulder. She wondered if he would ever release the pain and doubt plaguing him, which made him so uncertain of her devotion. Eventually her mind turned to the events of the day.

  Who had Tomas overheard? Katherine didn’t want to believe, couldn’t believe, Fingal was one of the men involved, nor could she understand why Niall believed it with such assurance. She decided surely Niall would realize this when his anger cooled. Perhaps in the morning he would see things more rationally.

  In the wee hours of the morning they awoke to the sound of Diarmad pounding on their chamber door. “Laird, wake up! There has been a raid to the southwest. The fires have been spotted by the watch.”

  Niall jumped out of bed, dressing in an instant. He strapped on his sword before turning to Katherine, who had arisen and was dressing as well. "Ye stay here in this room. Don’t leave for any reason until I come back,” he ordered sternly. “I mean it, Katherine,” he added even more forcefully, and strode out of the room, slamming the door.

  Katherine stared after him in wide-eyed shock. She wasn’t sure if he had confined her to their chambers for her own safety or for some other reason, but she would not provoke his ire further by defying him. She did not leave the chamber.

  ~ * ~

  By the time Niall and a contingent of his men reached the site of the raid, the small cluster of farmers’ cottages and barns had burned to the ground. The raiders had completely destroyed everything in the dead of the night. Unlike the other raids, in which they stole animals or burned hay, this time they had senselessly slaughtered the animals and set fire to the whole lot. The only thing for which Niall could be thankful was that the raiders had pulled his people from their homes before they torched the buildings. Even so, they killed three men, who had apparently tried to interfere. Surveying the ruins, he knew Matheson intended to send a message by leaving this devastation.

  Diarmad approached him. “Do ye want to send men to follow the raider’s trail?”

  Niall shook his head. “There is no need. We know the trail will lead to Matheson and we have little hope of catching them now. We must get these people back to Duncurra. When they are safe, I will decide what needs to be done.”

  Diarmad nodded. “Apparently, Matheson has returned your message. Old Una just told me the leader said to tell ye, ‘Duncurra is next.’”

  ~ * ~

  Niall brooded silently as they rode back to Duncurra, arriving after daybreak. He and Diarmad went to the great hall, and he asked Cairbre and Alan to join them. He trusted these three men above all others. Once they arrived, he dismissed the servants and told his men about the conversation Tomas had overheard.

  Diarmad said, “Do ye think the pair he heard were somehow involved in this raid?”

  Niall shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know. He heard them say ‘everything was arranged,’ but he also seemed to think whatever they were talking about would end in my death.”

  “Maybe they were lying in wait, assuming ye would follow the raiders,” Diarmad suggested.

  “Ye didn’t track the raiders?” asked Alan.

  “It seemed pointless. They had already wrought the destruction and I decided it was more important to get my people safely back to Duncurra. Now I wish I had followed the spineless curs.”

  “Well,” said Cairbre, “if they were lying in wait, ye can bet ye would have been significantly outnumbered. Cowards are more likely to rely on numbers than skill. They lose more of their own, but achieve the outcome they desire. If it was their plan to ambush ye, your compassion for your clan has thwarted their attempt.”

  “Perhaps,” said Niall, “but regardless of whether this attack was what the conspirators were discussing or not, I have a much bigger problem. Someone here at Duncurra is plotting my death, and the evidence points in one direction—Fingal.”

  The men stared at him in astonishment. Cairbre was the first to respond. “Laird, that isn’t possible. Fingal has worshipped ye from the moment he could toddle. There is no one more loyal to ye than your brother.”

  Niall turned on him darkly. “Really?” he asked with derision. “Whoever it was admitted to pretending to be something he wasn’t. Fingal’s devotion could all be pretense. Tell me, who else would inherit Duncurra?”

  “Laird, I know it looks damning, but I, too, can’t believe Fingal is behind this,” Diarmad insisted.

  “What is Fingal behind?” asked Malcolm casually as he walked into the great hall.

  “Well, ye may as well know, too,” said Niall, before quickly running through the events of the last few days.

  Malcolm looked shocked and concerned. “I have trouble believing your brother could be involved in a plot against ye, Niall. Perhaps young Tomas misheard or imagined the whole thing. Maybe he just made it up for the attention.”

  Niall shook his head. “Nay, I have questioned him at length. His story doesn’t vary, and he’s terrified. I believe the boy heard what he said he did. My brother thinks he is the one who would inherit Duncurra.”

  “Isn’t he?” asked Malcolm.

  “Nay. Katherine wanted to wait to make the announcement, but she is with child. If something were to happen to me, the bairn stands to inherit, not Fingal.”

  Niall’s men congratulated him, their happiness dampened somewhat by the serious circumstances in which they found themselves.

  Niall said, “Perhaps Fingal worried about something like this. The attacks increased after I married. Maybe he was hoping to seize control before there was an heir.”

  Alan said, “Niall, I can’t explain what Tomas overheard, but like Cairbre and Diarmad, I cannot believe Fingal is behind it.”

  “If ye are sure the lad is telling the truth, now, as I think more about it, I’m not so sure it isn’t Fingal,” Malcolm said. “He certainly would expect to inherit Duncurra. He also knows, and by all accounts, was friendly with Tadhg Matheson while they were in training. If Matheson was aiding him, it would explain why the conspirator bemoaned his loss in not being the one to kill ye. He expected Matheson or one of his men would. Maybe Fingal staged his own accident to ensure no one suspected him.”

  “I think it is time we had a chat with my brother,” said Niall, his expression dark and cold. “Diarmad, please go and invite him to join us.”

  “Laird, he is injured. Perhaps we should go to him.”

  “My wife assures me Fingal’s injury is not serious. I am certain he can make it down the stairs with your assistance,” Niall said with barely controlled rage.

  “Aye, Laird.” Diarmad bowed his head slightly and went to fetch Fingal.

  Malcolm furrowed his brow. “I hear your wife is an extremely skilled healer. I’m sure Fingal is doing very well today after her tender ministrations.”

  Niall scowled.

  “Ye don’t suppose,” continued Malcolm, “Fingal knew Katherine was expecting?”

  “That makes no sense,” said Niall crossly. “If he knew, there would be no reason for him to seek my death. He wouldn’t inherit Duncurra anyway.”

  “Unless,” said Malcolm, so quietly only Niall could hear him, “he planned to eliminate Katherine as well.”

  Niall’s heart stopped. If he thought that was a possibility, he would kill Fingal with his bare hands. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Katherine and the baby.

  “Or perhaps the bairn isn�
�t yours.”

  Niall’s expression suddenly turned murderous.

  Malcolm rushed on. “Nay, think about it, Niall. Ye said Katherine didn’t want to announce the pregnancy yet. Perhaps they both know the bairn could be Fingal’s. If he were to eliminate ye before Katherine’s pregnancy was announced, he could marry the grieving widow and no one would be the wiser. Ye wouldn’t be the first man to have someone else’s bastard hidden under your protection.”

  Niall seethed; Malcolm could be right. He had foolishly let his guard down. “Cairbre,” barked Niall, “fetch my wife here as well.”

  “Aye, Laird.” Niall didn’t miss the worried look Cairbre gave Alan.

  The laird sat in stony silence, considering what Malcolm had said. How could it be anyone except Fingal? But was Katherine involved, too? Fingal was young, much closer to Katherine’s age, and charming. Most women found him attractive. How many times had he heard Katherine’s musical laughter over something his brother said? When he suggested Fingal was at the bottom of this yesterday, she had jumped to his defense. By all that’s holy, she had spent the afternoon tending an injury that she herself said was not serious. Then she lied to him about it. How could he have let this happen again? What possessed him to open his heart to a woman, giving her the opportunity to destroy him?

  Diarmad arrived in the great hall with a pale and drawn looking Fingal, just moments before Cairbre arrived with Katherine, who looked confused but guarded.

  Chapter 20

  One glance at Niall told Katherine he was dangerously angry, and for the first time since she’d married him, she was truly afraid.

  “Good morning, brother.” Niall nodded to Fingal. “Wife.” He nodded to Katherine. “I am so pleased ye could both join us this morning. I think it is high time we discuss what has been going on around here.”

  Looking completely confused, Fingal said, “I’m sorry, Niall, it was only an accident. I should have kept the men farther apart on the training field. It won’t happen again.”