Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series

by Suzan Tisdale

  “’Tis the McLaren!” Ailrig said between gulps for air. “He’s beatin’ Aggie again!”

  Frederick’s brow knotted as dread began to swell. “What do ye mean he’s beatin’ Aggie?”

  Ailrig shook his head and bent at the waist trying to catch his breath. “I dunnae what she’s done this time, but please, ye must stop him! He’s goin’ to kill her!”

  Rage unlike anything he had ever experienced coursed through his veins. He did not wait for further explanation as he raced into the keep. There was no need to call out for his wife in order to locate her. As soon as he stepped through the kitchens, he could hear the sounds of the whip as it sliced through the air and landed.

  He tore down the short hallway toward Mermadak’s room. He paused briefly in the open doorway. Donnel was standing near the fireplace, a perverse smile plastered to his lips. Frederick looked across the room. ’Twas as if the world around him came to a slow crawl as he watched Mermadak lift his arm, the whip flying high in the air above him. It sliced through the air and made a sickening sound as it landed against flesh.

  A low, guttural growl grew from his belly and escaped into a loud roar. Frederick lifted Donnel off his feet and tossed him away as if he were nothing more than a sack of leeks. The man landed somewhere behind him with a dull thud.

  Frederick stepped forward just as Mermadak raised his arm again. He caught the man’s wrist in his hands and twisted. Frederick heard the auld man’s bones crack as he wrenched the whip from his fingers. Once he had wrestled the whip away from Mermadak, Frederick spun the auld man around to face him.

  Enraged, he took no time to ask why the bastard was beating his wife. Frederick drew back his fist and plunged it into Mermadak’s jaw and sent him flying across the table. The auld man slid across the table and landed on his back on the floor with his head against the wall.

  Frederick’s chest heaved. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as he stared down at the two men lying on the floor. He was ready to kill both with his bare hands. Had Ian not stepped into the room, he would have done just that.

  “What the bloody hell?” Ian exclaimed when he saw Donnel and Mermadak lying on the floor. Ian looked up at Frederick with wide eyes.

  Findal and Ailrig soon joined Ian at the doorway, both with the same look of surprise on their faces as Ian held them back.

  Frederick turned back to Aggie and knelt beside her. His fingers trembled as he reached out to feel for a pulse. ’Twas weak and her skin felt cold. “Aggie,” he whispered as he wiped loose strands of hair away from her face. ’Twas then he saw the long scar that ran down the side of her face. God’s teeth! What has this man done to ye?

  He felt Ian and Findal standing next to him as Donnel and Mermadak began to groan. Frederick pulled himself up to his full height. “Findal,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Take me wife above stairs!” He caught sight of Ailrig still standing in the doorway as Rose soon appeared, looking confused when she saw her chief and his second in command lying in heaps on the floor.

  “Ye be Rose?” Frederick barked. She gave a quick nod of her head as she rested a hand on Ailrig’s shoulder.

  Rose’s skin turned ashen and her eyes grew wider when she saw Findal stand up with Aggie in his arms. Rose gasped and uttered a curse before she began to give orders.

  “Ailrig! Run and find Mrs. McCurdy! Then go to me room and get the brown bag that hangs on the hook next to me door!” Ailrig gave a quick nod before running to do as she bid.

  Rose crossed the room, mumbling more curses under her breath. “God’s teeth!” she muttered as she placed a hand on Aggie’s forehead. She looked up at Findal. “Follow me,” she said as she hurried out the door with Findal fast on her heels.

  Frederick turned to look at Ian. For the moment, Frederick was too stunned and too angry to move or utter a sound. Then Donnel moaned again and rolled over to his side. Mermadak began cursing from his spot behind the table.

  “What the bloody hell!” Mermadak demanded as he struggled to get to his feet.

  “I’d like to ken the same!” Frederick’s voice boomed throughout the room. Soon, his men, along with McLaren men, began to fill the hallway at both doors.

  Donnel pushed himself to his feet, his eyes filled with anger as he stared at Frederick. “What the bloody hell is yer problem, Mackintosh?”

  Ian held Frederick back before his brother could do something foolish, such as killing Donnel with his bare hands. “Me problem?” Frederick asked incredulously. “Why would ye stand there and allow a man to beat a lass like that?”

  Donnel sneered. “What concern of it is yers?”

  Frederick did not think he could become more stunned or more angry. But Donnel’s words proved him wrong. “What concern—” he could not finish his sentence. He turned to Mermadak who had made his way into his chair. “Mermadak,” Frederick seethed. “What on earth could that wee lass have done to deserve such a beatin’?” he demanded.

  Mermadak looked at him as though he had sprung a third arm. “I’d think ye’d thank me fer keepin’ yer wife in step!” he shouted across the table before erupting into a coughing fit.

  “Keep me wife in step?” Frederick asked, unable to believe what he was hearing. Ian looked at his brother, just as confused and bewildered.

  When Mermadak finally got his coughing under control he looked up at Frederick. “Aye! I ken that ye spent yer weddin’ night in the stables! The stupid wench failed!”

  Ian jumped between Frederick and Mermadak, placing both hands on his furious brother’s chest.

  “What concern is it of yers where I spent the night?” Frederick demanded.

  Mermadak shook his head in dismay, as if Frederick were one of the dumbest men he’d ever met. “The marriage be no’ official ’til ye consummate it! The stupid wench failed at that! She couldna just spread her legs and let ye do yer duty!”

  Five of Frederick’s men bolted into the room and helped Ian hold him back. Though if truth be told, each one of them wanted a chance to beat Mermadak to a bloody pulp for hurling such insults about Frederick’s wife.

  “How on earth can ye speak of yer daughter with such contempt and insults?” Frederick shouted as he struggled against his men. He wanted nothing more than to kill Mermadak.

  “Och! Ye and yer sensibilities!” Mermadak spat.

  “She be yer daughter fer the sake of Christ!” Frederick said between gritted teeth. “’Tis none of yer concern what happens betwixt us!”

  “The hell it isna!” Mermadak said as he stood. “If the marriage be no’ consummated, then ye can ask fer an annulment!”

  Stunned, Frederick tried to make sense of it all. “Ye beat yer daughter because ye thought we hadna consummated the marriage?” he asked.

  “Aye! She failed me and our clan. She failed ye as well,” Mermadak explained. “Ye can be free to break the bonds of marriage now and I’ll have to start again to find someone to marry the stupid whore.”

  The room erupted into an uproar of insults and curses, all hurled at Mermadak. Frederick’s men were doing their best to hold him back, but if given the word from Frederick, they’d gladly slice Mermadak’s throat.

  Mermadak looked bewildered. “Yer all a bunch of weak minded men!” he shouted. “Ye all have yer trews in a knot and fer what? Because I beat some sense into me daughter? Because I punished her fer no’ doin’ her duty? Yer all fools! I canna believe I married her to the likes of ye, Frederick Mackintosh!” He wiped spittle from his mouth and shook his head, looking disappointed at the choice of the husband he had made for Aggie.

  Frederick’s blood boiled. “Yer afraid I’d break the marriage agreement?”

  “Aye! Until it be consummated, ye can call foul and leave!”

  Frederick shook his head in dismay. “I ken ye dunna understand honor when it stares ye in the face, McLaren. But I gave me word and I do no’ go back on me word. I made a promise to Aggie yesterday and I fully intend to keep it.”

  “Bah! Ye and yer
honor and yer word! ’Tis worth no more than dust! Ye spout on and on about honor, but what good is it if ye canna keep yer wife in tow? What good is it if ye refuse to do yer husbandly duty and make certain the lass kens who be in charge? What good is yer word if ye canna even spread her legs and take her by force if ye have to? I have no faith in ye or yer word!”

  “Mermadak,” Ian spoke up finally. “I advise ye to quit makin’ disparaging remarks about yer daughter!”

  “Why?” he asked looking perplexed.

  “If ye say one more unkind thing about me brother’s wife, I swear, I’ll order his men to let him go. Ye’ll be dead in a matter of moments!”

  Mermadak waved his hand at Ian as if he did not believe him. “Bah! If he kills me now, before the marriage be official, he gets nothin’. What then? Will ye go crawlin’ back to the Grahams?”

  Frederick shook away Ian’s arms. “If I decide to leave here, McLaren, I will be takin’ me wife with me.”

  Mermadak glanced at the angry men who filled his room. The threat of death did not bother him as much as the thought of Frederick taking Aggie away. His men were not the best warriors and while he knew he had Frederick’s men outnumbered by at least three to one, he knew too many of his men would die before he could wrest his daughter away from her husband. He could not afford to lose any more men.

  Frederick let his words sink in for a moment before he left the room. Ian and the others followed behind him.

  “What do ye plan to do?” Ian asked once they began to ascend the stairs and he felt they could not be heard by anyone.

  Frederick stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to look at Ian. “I need to see how Aggie fares first. Ian, ye come with me. The rest of ye, guard the hall. Once I see how Aggie is, we’ll gather and make our plans then.”

  Ian gave a nod of his head and followed his brother down the hallway. It made him sick to think of everything Aggie had not only just endured below stairs, but what her whole life must have been like. If they had not arrived when they did, the lass would certainly be dead. He shuddered to think of what might have happened had Mermadak chosen a different husband for his daughter.

  Nine

  AGGIE HAD THE vague sensation of being lifted off the floor but naught much else. The roaring continued to echo in her head almost as fiercely as the pain radiating across her back. Sounds remained muffled as she felt herself being placed gently on a bed and rolled to her side. I ken I be no’ dead yet, fer I can still feel the pain and burnin’. Why does God hate me so? Why can He no’ just let me die, and soon?

  Rose clenched her jaw tightly as she looked over Aggie’s wounds. “I have to believe there be a special place in hell fer the McLaren,” she muttered.

  Findal was standing on the opposite side of the bed and nodded his agreement.

  Rose studied Aggie’s back and her dress for a moment. There wasn’t much left of the dress to save, but she knew it was one of only two dresses Aggie owned. “Blast it,” she muttered as she grabbed one of the rents in the dress. The cloth ripped easily for it was auld and had been mended far too many times to count. Aggie’s chemise was torn to shreds as well.

  Rose glanced up at Findal. “I need hot water, Findal. Please, can ye go below stairs and fetch some fer me?”

  Findal remained silent, gave a nod of his head and stepped out of the room. He nearly ran into Frederick out in the dark hallway.

  “How is she?” Frederick asked quietly.

  “Rose is tendin’ to her now. She has asked me to fetch some hot water.”

  “Thank ye, Findal.” Frederick patted his friend’s shoulder before sending him off.

  He stood just outside the door to the room he was to share with Aggie. An overwhelming sense of guilt lay heavy in his stomach. Had he not been such a fool last night, had he made a better attempt at trying to communicate with his wife, she would not have been beaten.

  Ian must have read his mind. “Frederick, this be no’ yer fault. Mermadak is a whoreson if ever there was one. Ye could no’ have kent he’d do such a thing to his own daughter.”

  Frederick let out a long sigh. “I kent he was a whoreson, from the beginnin’. I saw how he treated her at Rowan’s.”

  “Aye, he was rude and disgustin’, but none of us could have foreseen this.”

  “I should have! I should no’ have left in such a fit of anger last eve. I should have stayed and tried to talk to her! But I let me anger rule me head and that is unforgivable.”

  Ian knew nothing he could say at the moment would make Frederick feel any better about the situation. He stepped aside and let Frederick enter the room.

  Rose looked up at him when he entered. The room was cold and dark, save for one candle burning on the mantle.

  Rose was between the bed and the cold fireplace. Frederick looked down at his wife. Her skin was pale. Dark circles formed under her eyes. She looked so tiny lying in the bed.

  “If she does no’ develop a fever, she will survive this,” Rose said as she pressed a bit of cloth against Aggie’s skin.

  Words were lodged in his throat, his guilt stealing away his voice. He felt lost, uncertain what he should do. He could not take his eyes away from Aggie’s limp form.

  “She will be like this fer a time, m’laird.”

  Frederick humphed. “I take it, this has happened before?” He felt he already knew the answer.

  “Aye,” Rose said as she continued to stare at Aggie’s back. “Far too many times, m’laird.”

  “I be no laird, Rose. Please, call me Frederick.”

  She did not look up at him as she continued to gently dab at Aggie’s back. “The bleedin’ has nearly stopped, now.”

  Frederick did not believe he possessed the strength at the moment to step around the bed and look for himself. For now, he would take Rose’s word.

  A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind as he thought back to what he had seen when he first entered the McLaren’s room. His wife, lying in a heap on the floor as the McLaren continued to lash out at her. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if his wife weren’t a coward and simply took whatever happened to her.

  “Why did she no’ fight back or call fer help?” he mumbled.

  Rose looked up at him. “M’laird,” she began before correcting herself. “Frederick. ’Tis no’ cowardice that kept Aggie from fightin’ back, or from callin’ out.”

  Frederick raised a brow and wondered how Rose knew what he was thinking.

  “This is no’ the first time this has happened. To fight back or protest only makes it worse. Ye ken?”

  No, he most certainly did not ken. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

  “Frederick, I ken it be difficult to understand it. Ye have no’ been through what Aggie has been through these past years. I do no’ understand most of it. But I tell ye this,” she took a deep breath in and looked down at her best friend. “Aggie McLaren be the bravest women I ken.”

  Frederick snorted. “Bravest women?” He couldn’t see it.

  Rose glared up at him. “Aye! The bravest! How many of yer men could have taken the beatin’ she just took, without cryin’ out? Without fightin’ back?”

  “My men would have fought back!”

  “Aye, because they be big men! But Frederick, look at Aggie! She is so wee. She canna fight back. She has tried before and all it gets her is a worse beatin’.” Rose brushed away loose strands of Aggie’s hair. “

  He could not argue that point. A man would have been able to defend himself, but Aggie? She was a tiny thing, scrawny and fair. He had to concede Rose’s point. His wife was too small to go against her father, or any other man for that matter. He felt like a bigger ass for thinking she should have done more.

  “Aggie has taken more beatin’s than ye can imagine. Some, she took fer others fer she knew they would no’ be able to survive it.”

  Frederick looked at Rose with a raised brow.

  “Aye, ye heard me. She took beatin’
s fer others. And what did she receive in return? Nothin’, not so much as a thank ye. They all treat her worse than they treat a dog. They taunt her and tease her fer bein’ different. Still, she works harder than all the others, does her best to keep a roof over their ungrateful heads. She cooks and cleans. She tends the gardens, works in the laundry and in the stables. And she asks fer nothin’ in return, not even their respect. So, aye, Aggie McLaren is the bravest women I ken. Were I in her shoes? I’d have tried to run away more often than she has. I would have sliced Mermadak’s throat whilst he slept. I would have demanded more and given far less.”

  In his heart, he knew Rose was right. He looked again at his wife, this tiny, wee little woman. His anger toward her was gone. Part of him pitied her, felt regret and guilt for all she had endured growing up as Mermadak McLaren’s daughter. Yet a much bigger part of him felt proud. This tiny woman had done her best to keep an ungrateful group of people together, to keep them all from starving or freezing to death. She had done her best. And given the same circumstances, he wholeheartedly doubted he would have been able to do what she had done.

  If he could find a way to communicate with her, then together, they could be a force to be reckoned with. Somehow, he had to find a way into his wife’s heart.

  Findal soon appeared with a kettle of water. He stepped into the room and looked for a place to set it. “Ye can set it beside me,” Rose instructed him.

  Aggie’s teeth began to chatter, drawing Frederick out of his quiet thoughts. Her body began to quiver and shake.

  “She’s goin’ into shock,” Rose said fearfully.

  Frederick might not be able to change all that Aggie had gone through up to this point in her life, but he made a silent vow that he’d do what he could to see that the rest of her life was much different.

  “Findal,” he said. “Bring us a tub and hot water.”

  A voice from the hallway filtered in to the room. Clair stood in the doorway, looking in at them. Her face was unreadable, but Frederick felt certain the young woman had not one regret over what had happened to Aggie.