The Winter Laird

by Nancy Scanlon

  “Donovan!” a female voice exclaimed. “Let them be! Come back down here!” A woman appeared and grabbed his hand. “Congratulations, Nick. We shall speak soon. Donovan, leave them be.” She looked back up at Brianagh and grinned. “We’ll see you at the feast.”

  “Feast?” Brianagh asked Nioclas, her belly rumbling at the thought.

  “I can make you forget about food,” Nioclas said in a husky voice, his eyes darkening.

  “That’s probably not a good idea.” She slipped out of his arms and headed downstairs. “I really am quite hungry.”

  And quite skittish, Nioclas thought as he watched her hasty retreat. He followed into the great hall, where Erin Maguire was clasping Brianagh’s hands as if they were long-lost friends, looking apologetic and shooting her husband looks that would kill any other.

  “She doesn’t look like a Kildare,” Donovan noted, joining him.

  “No, I don’t think she would, being as she’s an O’Rourke,” Nioclas replied.

  “What?” Donovan’s mouth dropped open. “She’s not—”

  “Her family seems to think so,” Nioclas cut him off quickly. “But I don’t. She is beautiful, was raised on the continent, and can hold an intelligent conversation…but I don’t think we can add ‘power over time’ to her list of attributes.”

  “And what a fine list she seems to have,” Donovan replied appreciatively. At Nioclas’s glare, he laughed. “Oh, you know I’ve got more than enough with my Erin. But I’m not dead, Nick. I can appreciate a beautiful woman.”

  Nioclas watched Brianagh chatting with Erin. She was animated and full of life. Her dark hair was slightly mussed from his hands, and she was flushed. Her eyes were sparkling and her laugh carried clear across the room.

  Beauty was a fitting description.

  • • •

  Brianagh had no idea what Erin Maguire was saying to her.

  She suspected the woman was apologizing for her husband, but as Bri couldn’t shake her mind from that kiss, she really couldn’t say with certainty.

  She had never felt like that before, where her insides turned to mush and all rational thought fled. All that existed was feeling; a feeling that, even now, had her just the slightest bit shaky. Never before had a man kissed her as if he wished to devour her. The intensity was mind-blowing and every other experience she’d ever had with a man was nearly erased.

  And with just a kiss.

  Bri reconsidered. She had felt something like this, but it was only in her dreams. And it was never this intense or this unfamiliar. Even now, she longed to be back in his arms.

  Which was frightening in and of itself. Brianagh didn’t long for anything. Yet she could feel his eyes on her, and she felt the pull.

  “…To the north. We spend most of our time there and always make it a point to stay here when we travel between our lands,” Lady Maguire was saying, then paused and looked at Brianagh again. “Lady MacWilliam, are you all right?”

  “Oh,” Bri nodded. “Yes, of course. I just…ah, I just…”

  “Say no more,” Erin said with a knowing smile. “I’ve seen that look before. All the maids at my castle get the same look in their eyes when Nick deigns to grace us with his presence.” She sighed. “I vow, he never gives me enough notice so that I can get the maids out before he arrives. Once he does, you see, they forget about everything except him. Makes Donovan crazy. He is forever grumbling about how Nick must have more baths drawn than a body needs when he’s in residence.”

  Brianagh smiled at Erin’s obvious irritation. “Well, I apologize on his behalf, then.”

  “Oh, you mustn’t!” Erin exclaimed with a laugh. “If you start, you’ll never stop. Nick has more things to apologize for than you have time, trust me. I’m a MacWilliam by birth and we grew up together. Believe me when I say his penchant for insects in my dress was a lamentable one.”

  “I would think that would’ve been Nioclas’s brother, Aidan.”

  “Oh, I’ve no doubt they worked together,” Erin replied darkly. “But I’m convinced it was Nick. He always gave the air of a somber lad, but then he’d throw me a wink, and I just knew.”

  Brianagh did laugh then. She was getting the same impression.

  “You must call me Erin,” Erin exclaimed suddenly, “and I shall call you Brianagh. There’s something about you I like.”

  “Call me Bri, and I feel just the same. I hear there’s a feast in this marriage’s honor?”

  “And I’m starved. Shall we get your husband?”

  Bri looked over at Nioclas, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her. His lips curved into a smile, and she felt her stomach flip in anticipation. Stop that! she demanded, but of course her stomach ignored her. Then he winked.

  She bit her lip to keep from smiling. “No, I think the men have catching up to do. They’ll join us when they’re ready, I’m sure.”

  “I have a new opinion of you, Bri. I’m going to really, really like you,” Erin declared with a grin. “You are just what Nick needs.”

  Bri beamed at her. She really needed a girlfriend right about now.

  • • •

  Nioclas watched his new wife saunter to the high table arm-in-arm with Erin, and inwardly groaned. Erin was one of the very few who knew him well, like a sister. She usually couldn’t keep her opinions to herself and was the most outspoken lass he knew, although most of the women in his clan took no issue airing their grievances. He didn’t care to know how other clans worked, but in his, he found out early that the women knew what they were about. His mother was a prime example. Although his sire thought her useless, she had taught both him and Aidan how to read and write when that sire banished each tutor for one reason or another. His mother had taught them sums, too, and how to manage a large clan and the castle he currently resided in while navigating the delicate feelings of many people at once.

  Nioclas well understood the value of a good woman.

  “Is Kildare angry?”

  Nioclas rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Donovan. I sent the lass home yesterday. She probably hasn’t arrived yet. But I did send a messenger on one of the faster mounts in the stables.” He shook his head in disgust. “His daughter is but twelve. I couldn’t marry a child.”

  “It would do you well to remember that at that same age, you had mounted a battle against your sire for killing your mother,” Donovan said quietly. “And, if you recall, you won. Your clan—well, most of them, anyway—stayed true to you and accepted you as a laird at that age.”

  “I had strong clan leaders,” Nioclas felt compelled to point out.

  “Aye, you did. And still do. But these men and women here.” Donovan nodded to the clan as they began pouring into the great hall. “They believed in a child.”

  “They believed in my mother,” Nioclas said quietly.

  • • •

  Donovan hopped up to the table and gave Bri a quick kiss on the lips. “That’s Irish luck, there!”

  “Bri, this is my husband, Donovan. Donovan, try not to upset Nick today.”

  “It’s my favorite thing to do,” he replied jauntily. He winked at Bri. “MacWilliam’s a moody sort. If I can get some sort of reaction out of him, it’s a good day.”

  “Is that why you left him to the mercy of all those people?” Bri asked, watching in fascination as members of the clan continued to congratulate him. She felt a twinge of regret for fooling them into believing the marriage was a real one, but quickly reminded herself it was Nioclas who was doing that. She was just trying to get home.

  “He’s a fair laird,” Erin said thoughtfully. “His people respect him, and other clans fear him.”

  “His battles are legendary,” Donovan noted, “and I’d want no other at my back.”

  “Save me?” Aidan asked, leaning over and giving Bri a smacking kiss on the mouth before making himself comfortable on the other side of Donovan. “I’m a helpful sort in a fight.”

  Taken aback, Brianagh didn’t reply. She’d ne
ver been kissed by so many men in one day, and she wondered if this was a clan custom, or if everyone enjoyed teasing her new husband.

  “Aye,” Donovan agreed, serving his wife some of the food from the large trencher on the table. “But your name doesn’t inspire the same kind of fear in other clansmen’s hearts.”

  “It’s true.” Aidan sighed, then smirked. “But it does inspire all manner of other emotions from the women of those clans.”

  “You’re incorrigible!” Erin laughed, swatting Aidan’s arm. “You should be looking for a wife. You’re next, you know.”

  Aidan’s horror showed on his face. “Lass, I will tie your braids into knots if you ever so much as mention such a thing again!”

  “I don’t wear braids anymore,” Erin replied, supremely unconcerned, as one of the servants filled her cup with wine. “Besides, you’ll have a slew of daughters as payback for all the lasses whom you’ve left heartbroken.”

  Bri looked at the feast laid out in front of her and took a sip of the wine. She had a wooden trencher, big enough for two, and she wasn’t quite sure where to begin. She wasn’t even sure what some of the offerings were; she’d never seen most of what was served. It looked like meat in a whole lot of unidentifiable sauces.

  “I appreciate you waiting for me,” Nioclas said as he sat next to her. “I see that the others hadn’t any patience.”

  “No.” Bri noted the other three hadn’t even acknowledged his presence yet. “I don’t think they did.”

  “I am laird here,” Nioclas said, filling the trencher. “I do have those who respect me.”

  “And those that fear you,” Brianagh added with a slight laugh. “I’ve heard. Lady Maguire filled me in.” At his furrowed brow, she clarified, “Erin told me.”

  “Ah.” He finished filling the tray and signaled for his own wine. “Don’t listen to what she says. It was all Aidan’s fault.”

  “You can’t blame it on me forever,” Aidan said around a mouthful of food.

  “Blame what on you?” Erin wondered aloud.

  “Everything,” Donovan replied, heaping more food onto their trencher.

  Brianagh felt a glimmer of hope. These people were ones she could trust. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did.

  She took a large sip of wine, allowing herself to relax. She’d get home. It was just going to take some time to get there.

  Chapter 10

  Brianagh leaned into Nioclas. “I need to stop drinking the wine.”

  His brows lifted. “Oh?”

  “It’s making me hot, and this dress is, I think, made of wool.”

  He kept his expression neutral, but she could tell he was amused. “I am not one to follow fashions, my lady, but I believe that most of your clothing is made from wool.”

  “Even my summer ones?” Fanning herself, she shook her head. “That’s insane. These things are hot. And restrictive.”

  “I wonder what the women wear in your country. Does it not get hot?”

  “Oh, it does,” she replied with a slightly off-balance nod. “But we wear less clothing than this. I’m pretty sure I’d die if I had to wear this in the middle of the summer.”

  Nioclas took in her dark hair, curling madly about her face as some of the locks escaped the knot on top of her head, her blue eyes luminous. The dress she spoke of pushed her chest upward; the expanse of skin looked unmarred and softer than his own. Cinched about her waist, the dress flared out over her hips and thighs. Nioclas drank in the sight of her, his breath catching as he thought of her in less clothing.

  She was laughing at something Erin had said. He caught the sound and held onto it a minute longer than was wise. She was different from the other women he had been with. She was artless in the sweep of her arm as she discussed something, but graceful in step as she walked. Her presence was a strange mix of confidence and vulnerability.

  Intriguing.

  He hadn’t been intrigued by a woman in years. And especially not as intrigued as he was currently, his eyes narrowing when his brother gave his bride yet another kiss.

  The only man kissing those lips will be me.

  The thought took him by surprise. He had never been a jealous man¸ especially with women. He was content to have them while they were willing, then walk away when either was done. But there was something about Brianagh. Maybe it was because she so strongly resembled the woman from his dreams all those years ago, before the weight of the clan became so difficult to bear. Or maybe it was her beauty. Her radiance almost hurt his eyes, and he desired it more than he’d ever desired anything before.

  As he watched her take another sip of the wine, then bestow a sweet smile on one of the clan elders, he allowed himself a small smile of his own. She would do her part, and in three months, he would do his.

  All would be well.

  • • •

  Brianagh watched what she suspected was something Nioclas rarely allowed himself: he seemed relaxed with his friends and family. When she added in the pretty fantastic kissing and all that it evoked, she could lose herself very quickly if she didn’t remind herself that it was all a ruse.

  The room quieted as one of the clan leaders stood from his seat. “Clansmen. ’Tis a very great time to be a MacWilliam. Our clan is strong and prosperous. We are at peace, and we have the MacWilliam—the most powerful laird in Eire—to thank for that.” Cheers erupted.

  Brianagh sneaked a look at Nioclas. His face was serious.

  Erin leaned over and murmured into her ear, “That’s Daniel, the clan elder. He’s the oldest in the clan, and Nick’s closest advisor.”

  Daniel continued. “He rescued us from evil, a man who would destroy us if it suited his purpose. When we stood with MacWilliam, we stood together, and we haven’t sat down. For twenty-two years, we’ve been waiting for the day when we would welcome a Lady MacWilliam, and we now have her. Clan MacWilliam, I present to you Lady Brianagh MacWilliam, formerly Lady Brianagh O’Rourke!”

  The silence was deafening while everyone digested that their laird had just married an O’Rourke—clearly they hadn’t expected that. Then Aidan started to applaud and was quickly joined by Erin and Donovan. The rest of the clan followed suit.

  The whispers were almost as loud as the clapping.

  “Now, ’tis time for the standing up,” Aidan called out.

  Nioclas shot his brother a look of death that made even Erin squirm. The crowd began to cheer again. The rowdy suggestions tossed about made Brianagh blush from head to toe.

  Nioclas stood, and the entire room quieted immediately. “There will be no standing up,” he said, his voice ringing clearly throughout the hall. “I thank you all for coming and for attending my wedding. You are all welcome to stay at the castle tonight.” He held his hand down to Bri, who quickly realized she was supposed to follow his lead and took it. She followed him out of the hall and up the stairs.

  “I think we’ll let them talk for a while yet about your former surname,” Nioclas said as they walked. “It will take them a few weeks to forget you’re an O’Rourke, but once they choose to, the tale your family has spread will not be mentioned again.”

  Brianagh didn’t really hear all of what he was saying—that wine was stronger than she thought—but she did hear former surname? “What do you mean by that? The former surname part?”

  He opened the door and brought her into a chamber much more luxuriously appointed than hers. Whereas she had only a small stool, straw mattress, and washstand, his chamber had two stools, a large washstand, an ornately carved dresser, and a huge bed, which was the focal point of the room. Complete with posts, an ornamented canopy, and richly embroidered hangings, the bed was laden with coverlets, pillows, and fur blankets.

  She would’ve bet her leather slippers the bed was not made out of straw.

  “This is your chamber?” she asked in wonder.

  “Absolutely not,” Nioclas replied. “My chamber mirrors your own. This is the guest chamber.”

  �
�It seems overly fancy for a guest.” She touched one of the tapestries on the wall.

  “My sire, when he controlled the clan, believed it best to make one of the rooms fit for royalty. No one was allowed to sleep in it, but it was displayed to all.” Nioclas snorted. “He simply wanted to prove that he had the gold to own such a chamber.”

  “Did he have the gold?”

  “My mother did,” Nioclas replied, “and once it was gone, he killed her.”

  Brianagh covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago, lass.”

  “Why are we in here now?”

  “Because the laird would be expected to spend his wedding night in the best chamber with his chosen lady,” Nioclas replied softly.

  “Which brings me back to the question I asked. What did you mean by former surname?”

  Surprised, he responded, “Where you’re from, do the women not take the man’s surname as her own once the vows are spoken?”

  “Well…sometimes,” she replied, careful in her wording. “Most times, actually. I suppose my question is, are we really married?”

  “Aye.” He looked at her curiously, but his expression changed to wary. “That was our agreement.”

  “I thought we were just going to pretend to get married! How do I explain this when I get back?” Realizing what she said, she snapped her mouth closed and shut her eyes.

  She really, really didn’t mean to say that.

  Nioclas grabbed her by the arms, his face incredulous. “Are you betrothed to another?”

  “Um—”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and swore. “Will he come for you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No.”

  He glanced at her curiously. “You say that with such certainty, I’m led to believe the match is not a love match. It must be arranged, then?”