Loving the Enemy [Highland Menage 10] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

  “What do ye mean, nay?” he snapped. He kept his voice quiet but couldn’t help the deadly undertone.

  “Meg left her husband, nay her clan. If her husband wishes her back then he must be the one to fetch her,” said Niall.

  Go all the way to Dunollie, so far from the gates of Duncladach that he couldn’t even see the high walls? Leave his safe home to go haring after a woman who might be luring him to his death?

  Blood drained from his head. He couldn’t inhale. Niall stepped in front of him, almost chest to chest.

  “Breathe, brother. Breathe with me.” Niall punched him in the gut. His breath exploded out. He bent forward, leaning on his twin. The shock of it had him inhale. “That’s it. Ye willna die from this, nor will our clan be slaughtered. The danger is in yer mind. It cripples ye.”

  He hauled air past his sore gut. He’d been a jealous fool. Worse, he hadn’t apologized for fear of all knowing it. Yet he couldn’t hide this from them. Meg cared for him, and he returned it. But could he go after her?

  “Ye are laird and must put the fears of a wee laddie behind ye.” Niall paused. “What happened long ago is in the past, and ye must look forward.”

  He didn’t like having Niall give him the same words he’d spoken to Meg when he insisted she learn to float in the sea no matter her terror. She had trusted him, and learned to float. And then she’d taught herself to sink, doing the very thing that had terrified her. She was now paddling like a dog.

  If Meg could do that, could he not simply put one foot in front of the other, then another, and another?

  “Ye were listenin’,” he grumbled, not meaning the complaint.

  “Aye, to protect the both of ye. Ye are stronger than yer fear, Somerled. Ye are our laird. We believe in ye, so ye’d best start believin’ in yerself.” He gave a brisk nod and stepped back.

  “I will pay back that punch,” said Somerled, rubbing his gut. “And give ye another to match it.”

  “I just might let ye, but it willna happen until our wee Meggie can watch. So ye’d best talk with her and see why she wished to leave. She walked away from me, our brothers, Hamish, and our clan as well as her husband. We wish her back, but ye are the reason she left.”

  “Meg didna leave me, she went off in a huff, wishin’ to prove a point.”

  “Mayhaps.” Torquil took over the lecturing from Niall. “Or could it be she wishes to see if her husband believes she had no choice but to follow the king’s orders?” He caught the eyes of the brothers, who nodded agreement. “Ye bellowed at her, accusing her of having a lover and being the enemy.”

  “Ye didna trust her enough to let her speak,” said Artair.

  “Or look to see if she was hurt,” added Zander.

  “Ye ordered her locked up silent.”

  That was Finn. Somerled looked to Dougal. “Ye have sommat to add?”

  “Ye left her in that chamber to rot. Ye didna even ask if her feet were better, or if she needed sommat.”

  Somerled raised a sarcastically inquiring eyebrow at Hamish to see if he wished to add another complaint. The lad’s posture and obvious contempt didn’t need words. Somerled wouldn’t complain that they were all against him as the truth stared him in the face. He ran his fingers over his head from front to back, scratching deep.

  “I was a fool,” he admitted.

  “Was?” muttered Hamish.

  “Was. I ken it, and will tell Meg when she comes home that all is well.”

  “I suggest you dinna tell her anything,” said Hamish, eyeing him like a slug on a rock. “She has pride, and ye insulted her badly. Ye’d best get down on yer knee and beg her to come back to ye.”

  Somerled straightened, towering over the lad. “I’m her laird. I dinna beg.” Though it hurt like a dagger to his heart he forced the words out. “Meg will come home when she’s hungry enough. Best we all get back to work.”

  Niall stared him down. “If ye canna walk the land of yer clan, then mayhaps I should be laird.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Somerled ground his teeth as he stared at the face so much like his own.

  He’d always wondered if his twin would try to usurp his role as laird. It was mere happenstance that his forearm held the scar that proved he’d been born first, and was to lead the others. Had Niall waited all this time, until his laird had to face what had given him nightmares for years or appear a weak fool?

  “Ye wish to fight me for lairdship, now?” he asked, his voice heavy. Identical sharp blue eyes in a face almost the same as his own looked back with…sorrow and regret?

  “Nay, brother.” Niall slowly shook his head. “I wish to be the first to kneel and give my oath to ye at the Gathering. But ye must lose yer fear for the sake of our clan. There is no enemy eager to kill us all in our beds.”

  “Ye canna ken that.”

  “I can,” said Ewan. “There be none but MacDougals on our soil. I will go with ye to guard yer back as ye search for the lass. If any wish to cause ye harm I will ken it.”

  “Can ye do that, brother?” asked Torquil of Ewan. “Ye willna be protected by Duncladach’s thick walls. Either of ye,” he added, turning to Somerled.

  He’d just learned how badly Ewan was constantly battered by voices, thoughts, and visions. Thick stone walls kept out much of it. Yet he was willing to leave them behind, for his laird? Ewan’s courage shamed him. He nodded at him with respect.

  “Meg believed in ye when ye said you’d teach her to float,” said Torquil to Somerled. “’Tis time for ye to believe in yerself.”

  He may not believe in himself, but he believed in Meg. If Ewan could leave these walls, so would he.

  “I will walk,” he said in Gaelic, as if it was an oath.

  “Good! Then ye’ll be needing food to take with ye,” said Aggie. She headed toward the kitchen.

  “My belly’s full.”

  “Aye, but ye may wish to have sommat to break yer fast in the morn, aye?”

  “’Tis only a few miles to Dunollie.” A few miles across land he’d not traversed since before his father died.

  “Aye, but what if ye canna find her afore dark? She may be in the caves,” said Torquil.

  “Caves?”

  “Aye. There’s one facing the water, but high above. Another faces inland. Meg might go there, though she’d be safer on the top floor of the castle if she canna build a fire to keep away the wolves.”

  He hadn’t thought of her being out overnight, alone.

  “Why would the fool woman just walk away like that?” he demanded, exasperated.

  “Meg’s been stuck in her chamber, mostly alone, for days, and ye never went near her,” said Niall. “Mayhaps she wondered if ye ever would.”

  “Bring her back to us,” demanded Hamish.

  He stood tall and glared up at him, daring Somerled to knock him down. The lad had Meg’s long eyelashes, brown eyes, and soft blond hair, though his was darker. No wonder his older brothers had thumped him, and more. Jealous, no doubt. There were differences between the siblings, of course. He doubted Hamish would ever poke him in the belly with his finger to get his attention. He would also never, ever, reach out and hug him. That was one way Meg ended their arguments. It never failed to work as he did wish to see her happy, Also, one touch from Meg and his demands softened while his cock hardened. He’d gone thirty-four years with his staff rarely rising. A few days without Meg and he was in pain!

  “Or what?” he replied harshly. “Ye have naught to threaten me with.”

  Hamish stuck out his jaw. The tendons in his neck hardened, his hands fisted, and his chest rose and fell like bellows.

  “If ye dinna find her, Laird MacDougal, I will. And when I do, we willna be returning.”

  His fears of leaving Duncladach and of Meg’s safety morphed into fury.

  “Meg willna leave me. She is my wife!”

  “Then act like her husband!”

  * * * *

  Meg’s stomach began to settle as the sun came
up. She no longer fell to her knees to purge her belly, so made better time. She had to get to Dunollie before Aggie brought the nooning and realized she was gone. Niall’s talk had been the final push to get her to leave. The timing was perfect as her stomach had been queasy the last few mornings. As Aggie was up and gone quickly she hadn’t noticed the state Meg was in.

  It was too easy getting out the postern gate. She would have to tell Ewan about that privately or Somerled would bluster at him. No one would have expected to see her leaving, but Somerled would say she could be a spy off to speak to her lover and pass on all the news.

  A different lover, of course, not the brother who’d been locked up each night. She’d thought of visiting Hamish to explain what she was doing and why, but then decided it was best if he didn’t know. That way he couldn’t be blamed.

  “Somerled will still blame Hamish, and me, and mayhaps the birds as well!”

  They’d sung so joyfully for her as the sun came up. It had taken her mind off her queasy stomach. Her hand went to her lower belly, hugging the secret to herself. If Somerled found out about her morning nausea he’d say he cared for her though she’d know he meant her babe. She had to have him come after her before he knew she was with child.

  If he came. He might send a brother, or six of them, instead.

  She’d not walked this far since she was a child. Rarely had she been able to go out alone, either, so she enjoyed the leg stretch. While it was flat on the point where Duncladach crouched, once past the village with its wide crescent beach the land became rocky with high cliffs above the sea. She was exhausted when she finally crested a hill and saw a beach below. A couple more were flanked with low cliffs before the headline jutted out to a narrow point. A tall hill marked the spot where Dunollie Castle looked out toward the Isle of Kererra. She’d gotten better directions to the caves from one of the women who’d collected seabird eggs along the cliffs as a girl. She’d said the caves were inland of a wee beach between two small headlands. Some boys had found a human skull in one cave and few had braved it since.

  Meg didn’t believe in ghosts. Much. What she did believe was that her husband had to prove he wanted her. She was not going to spend her life wondering if he would send her to her chamber again, this time with a bar on the outside. By going after her he would also prove, to himself and his clan, that he no longer feared to leave Duncladach.

  She groaned in relief when she saw a low, dark oval in the hillside. The cave did exist! Boulders had been pushed in front as if to hold back the sea, though the water was a good thirty feet lower. How long had this cave been here? Who had used it?

  Enough light came in to show it was deep and high enough to house a large family. All that mattered was that it was dry and nothing else lived there. The bottom gave way under her feet, like shifting pebbles. She reached down, discovering empty shells. Whoever had lived here had done so for a long time and ate a lot of shellfish. Air movement past her suggested there was a vent somewhere inside. All that mattered was that she was safe from the elements if she had to spend the night. She hoped she wasn’t here that long.

  Would Somerled gain the courage to look for her, or would he send his brothers? Or would she have to trudge home, alone, in the morning?

  Meg set down her basket of food and brought the blanket back out to enjoy the sun. She’d been inside her chamber for too many days. She’d also walked far and was exhausted. There was nothing to harm her and no one around. She laid the blanket on the ground and settled herself for a nap.

  * * * *

  Somerled pulled the spyglass from his eye. He’d stopped at the last height of land before it dropped to the bay. While he saw nothing but empty land there were dips that could hide enemies, or Meg. Dunollie Castle was just past the far hill. Had she gone there, or stopped? He started downhill, Ewan following. The walking was easy, so he took long steps.

  “Meg’s legs are short, so we should catch up to her soon.”

  Somerled had said the same thing more than a few times. While he’d had to force his way past the village step by step it had been surprisingly easy after that. Maybe because he was so worried for Meg. He hadn’t been able to protect Torquil from attack but he would damn well find Meg before she was harmed! He looked to his right where waves smashed on the rocks below. Meg’s foot could slip without a stranger being anywhere near. Were there strangers?

  “You said you can sense when a stranger’s foot touches our land.” Somerled stopped and turned to Ewan. “What if they brought a ship and anchored just offshore. Would ye ken it, and them on board?”

  Ewan waved his right hand toward the water. The hill they were descending was higher than the low-lying islands before them. “Do ye see a sail or a wee boat out there?” He shook his head. “Laird, a ship canna hide in a wee hollow as a man would. So unless they be hiding behind those far hills of Mull, yer lady isna being attacked.”

  Ewan did not say Meg was safe. Though his height didn’t change, Ewan’s age seemed to shift with circumstances. At the moment Somerled felt like a young lad on the cusp of manhood while Ewan had the face of an elder, one who’d seen much in his life and had realized the futility of agitation.

  Somerled had been so focused on his fear of attack and finding Meg that he’d forgotten how difficult it must be for Ewan to go beyond those thick walls of rock. As Niall was his twin, he and Somerled shared strong emotions. Ewan could See far deeper into people. What would it be like to see the close bonds he and Niall had with Meg, and know you could never have it? He shook off his pity. Ewan would not want it.

  “If you can See the good or evil in people, and their sparks of life, can ye tell who is near?” he asked.

  Ewan looked back, his face blank. That meant he was hiding something. If he could tell where Meg was, and hadn’t said anything… Somerled narrowed his eyes. Ewan’s lightened. Was that a smirk?

  “Do ye ken where Meg is, or not?” he demanded.

  Ewan held out his hand for the spyglass. Somerled smacked it into his palm. Ewan faced the way they were headed, pointing the spyglass on the second bay. It was the smallest, a mere crescent of beach. He slowly turned inland. He stopped and focused the glass. Somerled didn’t like his satisfied smile.

  “The walk tired her. She sleeps.”

  “Where?” Somerled grabbed the glass.

  “By the cave. Ye can see her golden hair, aye?”

  Now that he knew where to look he didn’t need any help to see Meg, but he wanted to see more than her shape. He hadn’t looked on her face in days. She lay curled on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek. His heart leaped. He exhaled, shuddering in relief. She was safe!

  So was he. He turned to look north, at the treacherous journey he’d taken, heart in his mouth all the way, attack expected any moment. Duncladach was only a few miles distant. He could even see a strip of white harled stone.

  What had kept him hiding inside it for decades?

  He’d built up danger in his mind to such an extent that he couldn’t see the reality. He turned in a circle, surveying the land he held as laird, a gift from his ancestors to his grandchildren’s grandchildren. He was The MacDougal, laird of this land, his clansmen, and their families. His brothers were right. It was time he started acting like a man, a laird, and a husband.

  “Ye kenned she was here, safe, and said naught?”

  Ewan sighed. He rubbed his face. “I kenned she was near and was not in fear. She was uncertain but determined to go forward.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Laird, I dinna Look unless given permission. ’Tis wrong to See what should be private, aye?”

  Somerled exhaled in relief. He had many thoughts he wished none to know of, even Niall or Meg.

  “I am learning much about your…” He hesitated. “I dinna ken whether to call it a gift or a curse. I suppose ’tis some of both. As Laird MacDougal I thank ye for the gift that helps our clan. As yer brother, I wish ye werena cursed with it.”

  Ewan
abruptly turned away. He stuck his hands under his armpits and stared out at the sea. Somerled waited. Ewan trembled in great emotion but Somerled had no ability to know why. Nor did he wish it.

  “I thank ye,” whispered Ewan, “for bein’ my laird and my brother.” He exhaled hard, and then turned. His eyes were red, his face white. “Meg is a good woman. She is good for Duncladach, for our clan, and for ye and Niall.”

  He blinked rapidly, almost in a pattern. Somerled didn’t think Ewan saw what he was facing. It was far deeper than that. Somerled waited patiently, uncertain what Ewan would say but knowing it would be important.

  “Meg needs ye to take control of her, laird. She’s had to be responsible when she had little control. She ruled Duntrune well, but it was a heavy weight on her shoulders. She can do much, and needs to take pride in her work. She is a woman as well as Lady MacDougal. As you are a man as well as laird.”

  “What are ye saying? I’m a man of plain words.”

  “Have Meg take charge of the woman’s work of Duncladach, the food and lodging and all. Let her take that part of what’s been yer duty for she can carry it well. And when ye are alone with her, and with Niall, let her climb into yer lap and rest her burdens on yer shoulders. And sometimes, put her over yer lap and take her. She needs to ken that no matter how strong she is, ye and Niall are stronger, in yer bodies as well as in here.” He tapped his knuckles on his ribs over his heart. “Meg is a strong woman. She needs a stronger man to let her become all she can be.”

  It was Somerled’s turn to look out to sea.

  Having conquered the fear that had unmanned him for so long he needed to conquer Meg. She’d walked away though she belonged to him, in law and in deed. He’d felt less of a man knowing of his fear. Now that it was gone he needed to prove to himself that he was laird of all.

  “Ye are here, far from Duncladach, because of Meg,” continued Ewan. “’Tis another thing to thank her for. Will ye apologize when ye wake her?”

  “What we do is between my wife and me,” he growled. “We’ll be back at Duncladach on the morrow.” Somerled held out the spyglass, trading it for the basket of food Aggie had handed them.