Eoin heard his brother’s footsteps before he saw Arran plop down next to him and swing his feet over the side of the stone wall that surrounded the castle’s exterior. The rocky coast that encircled their home calmed him, and Eoin often escaped here when something troubled him.
“Cheer up, brother. We haven’t seen Blaire in over ten years. Just because the two of ye were determined to make each other miserable back then, doesn’t mean ye will now. After all, ye certainly aren’t the foolish lad ye were a decade ago.”
Eoin turned to look at his brother. “Perhaps, but I canna stop thinking about the young lass who shot me in the arse with an arrow because I refused to let her have my horse. I still bear the scar! I canna imagine that she could have changed enough for me to feel anything for her.”
Placing his arm around his brother’s shoulder, Arran smiled as he spoke. “Who said ye have to feel anything for her? All ye have to do is marry the lass and take her to yer bed. Blaire was quite the beauty and, from what I’ve heard, she has only gotten prettier since we last saw her. I feel sure a number o’ lads would gladly take yer place. Consider yerself lucky, brother. Ye could be betrothed to Laird Kinnaird’s eldest daughter. Ye would be, if the old toad had anything to say about it. If I remember correctly, she was just as disagreeable as Blaire but not nearly as comely.”
“You’re right, o’ course,” Eoin admitted. “It’s not as if I expect love, but I’d rather no attach myself to someone I barely know. And as for taking her to my bed, if she is even remotely as difficult as she was as a young lass, I doona think her beauty will be enough to entice me.”
As Eoin listened to Arran’s laughter at his own disdain for his fiancée, the sound of footsteps made both men turn their heads to the trail leading to the castle.
“Here she comes. Let us go find out if the betrothed is apt to be as difficult to live with as ye seem to think she will be. I, for one, look forward to having a lass about.” Arran stood and waited for Eoin to lead the way.
“As if there’s been any lack of lasses about the castle with the way you parade them in and out every night.” Eoin placed his hand on Arran’s shoulder. “But let me make one thing clear to ye, brother. Regardless of how I may feel for her, she will be my wife. Ye are not to touch her, understood?”
“I would never! I may love the company of women, but I am quite looking forward to ye having a lass of yer own. Come. Ye best get that look off of yer face before we get down to greet her, or I predict that ye will start things off with yer bride on a bad foot, no? I doona think most lasses enjoy being greeted with a look o’ pure dread and disdain.”
“Right.” Eoin plastered the largest grin he could manage as he stepped back through the side window from which he had climbed out onto the wall and made his way to the castle’s entrance. He had just stepped into the hallway in front of the grand staircase, when he heard Blaire’s voice echoing through the hallways.
“There is no use in standing here staring at me all day. Unless ye expect me to carry all my things to my room myself, and surely the laird has more manners than that. But then again, I’m having a hard time remembering very many good qualities about him. He couldn’t even be bothered to greet me upon my arrival. I doona know what he has instructed ye, but I demand to be placed in whatever room is farthest from the laird’s. We are not married yet. I will only share a room after the wedding, and even then, only if I’m forced.”
Eoin stepped onto the staircase where Blaire could see him and interrupted her before she could berate the old stable master further. “Hello, Blaire. Welcome to Conall Castle. I apologize for not being here when ye arrived. I was sitting out on the wall when I saw ye headed this way.” Reaching the bottom of the staircase, Eoin stood before Blaire and placed her hand in his. Flashing a smile that would make the most beautiful of women melt, he gently kissed the top of her hand, his dark black eyes piercing her own.
“I’m not interested in yer charms, Laird Conall.” Jerking her hand away, Blaire bent and began piling her belongings into the stable master’s arms. “Believe me, this will be a marriage in contract and nothing more. Any man who would agree to such an arrangement is obviously deranged. If it were up to me, I would be laird of the MacChristy keep after my father’s passing. I would do a fine job, most likely better than him, but everyone seems to think women are only capable of breeding and pleasing a man, so I’m being married off. Do ye no think ye and my father could have made an alliance of safety without me being part o’ the bargain?”
Eoin watched as Blaire stopped fooling with her things, only just noticing that the old man was already holding more than he could carry. He didn’t move as she walked right up to him and jabbed two of her fingers right into the center of his chest, her eyes flaring with anger.
“But no. The great Eoin is too small a man to find a woman of his own. He is happy to wed someone who does not love him, care for him, or like him.”
Eoin’s temper rose as Blaire’s fingers continued to jab into his ribs. Seething, he grabbed both of her wrists. “Ye can set the lass’s belongings down, Kip. Go see that her horse is tied safely in the stables, and show her escorts to the dining hall so that they can have a good meal after their journey.”
“Right away, sir.” The old man struggled to set the large pile down neatly, then took off as quickly as he could out the grand doors.
“As for ye,” still holding her wrists, Eoin backed Blaire into a column that lined the entranceway. With their bodies touching and his face close enough to feel the heat off her breath, Eoin continued, “Has it ever occurred to ye that I may be as reluctant toward this marriage as yerself?”
“Not possible,” Blaire muttered under her breath.
“Aye, tis very possible. This betrothal was arranged between my father and yers. I was informed of it as a young lad and was as helpless in the matter as ye. As for yer other demands…” he tightened his grip and leaned in even closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered huskily, “yer belongings are to be brought to the room directly across from mine, and upon our wedding night, ye will move into my chambers immediately, that I can assure ye, Lady Blaire. This will be a real marriage in every sense o’ the word. Ye will bear my children, and ye will quickly see just how capable I am of wooing any lass of my choosing.”
“Ahem…” Arran cleared his throat as he walked into the room. “Well hello, Blaire. Had I known the two of ye were going to get along so quickly, I would have given ye some privacy and welcomed ye in the morning. I apologize for the intrusion.”
“Do not make the mistake of assuming this is how it appears, brother.” Eoin released Blaire’s wrists and faced his brother. “Please help me take Lady MacChristy’s belongings to the Lavender Room.”
“But I have not yet had the chance to properly greet yer fiancée.” Arran stepped to take Blaire’s hand, but she quickly jerked it away.
“Doona bother. I’m sure beneath yer welcoming façade ye are equally as lacking in manners as yer brute of a brother.” She snarled her upper lip. “I have often heard it said that ye were the fairer of the two Conall brothers, but I would have to disagree.” She quickly whirled to face Eoin once again, “Now. I have had enough of both of the legendary Conall brothers for one evening. If ye can simply point me in the direction of food, I can assure ye that I can find the way myself.”
Beyond stunned, both brothers pointed to the double doors to her right, staring wide-eyed as she stormed out of the entranceway and through the doors to which they’d pointed. Arran was the first to speak. “By all the saints, brother! I do believe ye were right about the lass. She is quite the beauty, but I’d be wary of taking her to my bed as well.”
“Aye. I told ye so.” Bending, Eoin began lifting Blaire’s belongings, leaving half for his brother, and nudged his head to the staircase so that Arran would follow.
“I know just what ye need, brother. Let us ride out in the morning and spend the fortnight before yer wedding enjoying yer last few days o
f freedom! It would do ye good to get drunk and tup a lass or two before ye’re strapped down with the wench now sleeping across the hall from ye. Mary would be more than happy to help with the wedding preparations, and if what I have seen of yer future bride tonight is any indication, she willna be wanting yer help even if ye are here.”
“Nothing sounds better, but I doubt that would do anything to improve the lass’ mood.” Before he could get another word out, the doors out of which Blaire had gone burst open once more as Blaire stepped back into the grand entranceway.
“If ye call that slop that was waiting in the dining hall ‘food,’ I shall starve to death during my imprisonment here! I refuse to eat one bite of it. I expect much better out of the morning’s meal. Now if ye don’t mind, I will follow the two of ye to my chambers, where I will spend the rest of my night.”
As they trudged up the staircase, balancing the loads of her belongings, Eoin leaned over to catch his brother’s ear. “Ye’re right. It’s just what I need. We will ride out at first light.”
* * *
Miles away Ramsay Kinnaird stood before his large stone fireplace, downing yet another goblet of whisky, when his personal messenger entered the room.
“I’m afraid tis true, sir. Blaire MacChristy moved into Conall castle this very evening, and they are to be married within a fortnight. It was arranged between the laird’s father and Donal MacChristy himself. From what I hear, neither Eoin nor Blaire are looking forward to the marriage.”
“I doona give a damn about their feelings toward their marriage!” roared Ramsay, slurring his words as he continued. “How dare Alasdair make such an arrangement? Donal MacChristy is laird over the smallest keep in all of Scotland, while my territory is by far the largest. With both Donal and myself having daughters of the same age, it is an insult of the deepest accord that Alasdair would pass over arranging a marriage with my daughter for Blaire MacChristy.”
“I…I believe, sir, that the arrangement was made so that Alasdair could ensure protection for his good friend. As ye know, the MacChristys have been facing difficult times for years. Their land is too scarce and their people too poor to provide adequate protection should their territory be in danger. I do not believe Alasdair meant any disrespect to ye, sir.”
“I know perfectly well what Alasdair’s intentions were when he made the arrangement, you damn fool!” He threw the metal goblet into the flames, sloshing the contents of his cup, forcing the flames to heighten and roar at the alcohol’s touch.
“I…my apologies, sir.” The man backed up a few steps, fearing that the laird’s temper was about to grow completely out of control. Far too many servants had disappeared simply because they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time when the laird flew into one of his violent rages.
“This will not stand, I can promise ye that. This marriage will provide no protection for the MacChristy clan, for I will wipe out all of the Conalls. Afterward, it will only be a matter of time before the MacChristys wither and die of their own accord. Once his precious Blaire is murdered before she is comfortably settled in her new home, the old laird will be so heartbroken, he will care for his territory even less than he does now.” Storming from the room, Ramsay paused briefly, grabbing his messenger by the throat. “If ye so much as breathe a word of my intentions to anyone, I will wipe ye and yer entire family from the face of this earth.”
Shoving the servant to the ground, Ramsay Kinnaird flew out of the room, his murderous plan taking shape as he went.
Chapter 5
Scotland
Present Day
As usual, everything took twice as long as planned. Despite the fact that our plane had landed early that morning, it was close to six pm. Dusk was beginning to set in as we loaded the documents from the museum into the small compact rental and headed out of the city.
Several hours later, hungry and exhausted, we finally spotted the small inn that Mom had remembered. I parked in front of the charming two-story home and flipped on the interior lights of the cramped car as I pulled out a map.
“What do you think? Are we close enough to the ruins to stop for the night?”
Yawning, Mom stretched and nodded.
“Yes. We’re only about thirty minutes away, and I’ve always wanted to try this place out. It looks great, doesn’t it?”
“Yes it does. Let’s go. I’m totally exhausted.”
We unloaded our suitcases and made our way to the inn’s entrance. Stepping inside the old wooden door, I smiled as the warmth of the fireplace to the left washed over me, melting away the icy feeling in my fingers and face.
I was loosening my scarf and unbuttoning my jacket when I heard a voice coming from the top of the stairs.
“Jerry! I think there’s someone here. Go see if they will be wanting a room and, for God’s sake, ask them if they want something to eat.”
My stomach growled immediately at the mention of food. I hadn’t eaten anything since the plane, and the one bite I’d had of the soggy powdered eggs hadn’t held me for long. I reached down to pat my stomach, hoping it would stop growling at my request, just as the most miserable-looking man I’d ever seen walked our way from what appeared to be the kitchen.
Hunkered over, with a head covered in gray hair, he was far too skinny. He had the most severe-looking face, with a long, pointed nose and a chin that jutted far outward. I couldn’t help but think that he more than slightly resembled Ebenezer Scrooge.
“Well, hello lassies,” the man said with a large smile. “The two of ye look like ye’re about to freeze to death, shivering in the doorway. Please, come in and I’ll get ye something warm to eat, as I assume ye’ll be staying the night.” He quickly patted me on the shoulder and then walked back toward the kitchen, waving his hand so that we would follow.
I was certain my jaw visibly dropped, and it took me a few good seconds before I could follow. I glanced at my mother, who was staring back at me with a look of pure satisfaction.
“Never judge a book by its cover, Bri.” She smiled and finally followed me.
Once inside the room, we were quickly whisked to a small table in the corner. Two steaming bowls of soup were placed in front of us, then the man’s questions began.
“We’re so glad to see the both of ye. First guests we’ve had here in a long while. Out o’ the way as I’m sure ye know. Where are ye from? And what brings ye to this part o’ the world?”
Mom spoke up first. “We’re from the States—I live all over. Bri’s my daughter, and she’s a teacher from Austin, Texas. I’m here to do some archaeological work on the ruins of Conall Castle. I convinced Bri to come along and help.”
“Ahh…Texas ye say?” The man turned and looked in my direction. “I know the whereabouts. My wife Gwendolyn grew up in San Antonio. She came here to visit her uncle as a young lass, about eighteen I think she was. I worked for the old man; from the second I saw her running through the field, trying to catch one of his sheep…”
He started laughing a deep, belly laugh that shook his whole body. I couldn’t help but smile as well, the man’s love for his wife evident with each heave of his shoulders.
“Well…I fell in love with her right then, and I knew that she wasn’t going back to the United States.”
“What’s that, Jerry? What lies are you telling these poor women?” A petite woman, with striking green eyes entered the kitchen, and after planting a kiss on her husband’s cheek, came in our direction, to greet us.
“I hope he’s not boring you two to death with his tall tales. Let me guess, he was telling you about how he swept me off my feet; rendered me so senseless that I never went home. Well, he knows good and well it was this scenery I fell in love with, not this blithering old fool.”
She winked over her shoulder at him, and I could tell by the twinkle in his eye he didn’t believe a word of her teasing.
The rest of the evening flew by in a blur for the both of us. The old couple talked for hours, and I found myself capt
ivated by the stories of their years spent together.
Finally, at half past eleven, we carried the last load of documents to a small room at the top of the stairs. Gwendolyn had attempted to give us each our own room, but Mom asked that we share, insisting that it would be easier to do research if we were in the same room.
As I listened to Mom mess up the covers while she tossed and turned in the antique bed, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and pulled on my favorite flannel pajamas. Exhausted, I crawled into the bed and stuck my icy cold feet up against the warmth of my mother’s sock-warmed toes.
I sighed and rolled over in an effort to claim back some of the covers that were disproportionally on the other side of bed.
“I know what you’re thinking, darling. You’ll get it someday.”
“What’s that?” I rolled over once more to face her.
“You want a relationship like Jerry and Gwendolyn. I could see it in the way you looked at them the whole evening. You’ll get it someday. Not every relationship is like mine was with your father.”
“I know. You’re right. I just worry sometimes that it isn’t ever going to happen for me.”
“It will. But, sweetheart, you might want to ditch the retainer and buy some sexier PJs first.”
* * *
Three days later, and I sat surrounded by piles of yellowing parchment and dust.
I blew a rogue strand of hair out of my face that had slipped free from its binding with my lower lip. So far, we’d spent our days in Scotland pouring over the boxes of documents without luck.
I glanced over at my mother, who with each passing day grew more restless. “I think we should take a break. Let’s drive to the ruins and poke around there. Just start digging. Perhaps, we’ll have more luck that way.”
I was certain she hadn’t heard a word. Her brow was creased in concentration, and her mind was clearly elsewhere as her eyes frantically searched the document in front of her. “Mom. Are you…?”
Morna's Legacy: Box Set #1 Page 3
