In addition to making certain his wife was never alone, Frederick made provisions for a situation just like the one he now found himself in. Not only was Aggie fully aware of his plan, she would be, if needed, an eager if not slightly fearful, participant.
“If ye do no’ believe me, ye can ask yer daughter,” Frederick said nonchalantly, challenging Mermadak’s accusation.
Mermadak’s wheezing increased, induced, Frederick was certain, by the strain of realizing Frederick had just made him look like a fool. However, he was not ready to give up his relentless hunt just yet. “She canna be trusted,” he seethed. “Just like her bloody mother. She’ll lie through her teeth.”
Frederick was stunned by Mermadak’s description of his deceased wife. According to Aggie, Lila McLaren was the only person Mermadak had ever loved or respected. Aggie swore that her father never behaved so cruelly or harshly while her mother was alive. He may have been cool and distant toward Aggie, but he never raised a hand to her until after Lila had passed.
“Would ye like a midwife to examine her?” Although he did not like the idea of subjecting his wife to such an examination, they both agreed that it might just be necessary. He hoped, for Aggie’s sake, that simply making the offer would be enough to make Mermadak believe they were serious.
Mermadak was about to speak again when Ian entered the room. In his hand was the neatly folded sheet in question. Ian gave the sheet to Frederick as he stood beside him. Frederick unfolded the sheet, gave it a good snap, and let it slowly fall on top of Mermadak’s desk.
There in the middle of the sheet was a splotch of blood. Aye, ’twas Aggie’s blood, but not from losing her maidenhead. ’Twas blood from the beating she had endured at the hands of her father.
“Will this suffice fer ye, McLaren?” Frederick asked as he watched Mermadak closely. “Or do we next call the midwife?”
Mermadak was staring at the sheet as if it were an apparition. Donnel left his spot by the fireplace to stand next to his leader. One glance at the sheet that draped over Mermadak’s desk and Donnel’s expression changed from an irritating smirk to one of stunned surprise.
Disgusted by the need for such dramatics, Frederick grabbed the sheet and rolled it into a ball. Stuffing it under his arm, he glanced at his men before looking back to Mermadak. “Now, will ye be givin’ us the supplies we need, or do we continue to argue about it?”
Mermadak’s jaw set and his brow knitted as he took his seat. “I’ve no funds fer the supplies ye seek,” he said coldly as he shot a questionable look at Donnel. A flicker of something passed between the two men. Had Frederick not been paying attention he wouldn’t have noticed it. But he had and he did and he didn’t like what he saw. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
Deciding one battle had been won this day, he would leave the battle over supplies for another. It would do him no good to push the issue further just yet. Without saying a word, Frederick and his men quit the room.
“Somethin’ tells me he be lying,” Findal offered quietly as they made their way down the corridor.
Frederick nodded his head in agreement.
“Somethin’ else tells me that neither Mermadak nor his men can be trusted,” Ian said.
Frederick chuckled nervously. “No truer words were ever spoken.”
Eighteen
FREDERICK HURRIED TO his bedchamber. Aggie would undoubtedly have questions as to why Ian had come for the sheet. As he rounded the corner and started down the corridor, he was surprised that no guards stood outside his bedchamber door. Popping his head inside, he found the chamber empty.
More likely than not his wife was above stairs with Rose practicing her stitches, which, he mused, were showing quite an improvement over the past days. Aggie had readily admitted that sewing was not one of her better skills which she attributed to lack of simply not having enough time to devote to it over the years.
As he made his way above stairs to Rose’s room, Frederick realized a broad smile had come to his face. He felt proud of his wee wife and the way she was slowly blossoming into a fine woman. He had no doubt that had she not suffered at the hands of Mermadak all these long years that she would have already become a fine lady and chatelaine.
Although she still suffered from nightmares most nights and still could not go beyond the walls of the keep, she was making some progress. She no longer waited for him to coax her into speaking her mind or otherwise conversing with him. Aggie no longer answered his questions with a simple nod or shake of her head or one or two word answers. She was beginning to worry less and less about how she sounded when she spoke. He also noticed that her stutter, while still a tremendous battle for her, was improving.
He gave Rose’s door a gentle knock and moments later, Rose opened with an irritated, “What do ye want now?”
Needless to say, it wasn’t the welcome he had anticipated. Oddly enough, when Rose saw who it was, her irritated expression turned to one of disappointment. “I be sorry, Frederick. I thought ’twas someone else.”
He had a sneaky suspicion that she’d been expecting his brother, Ian. Frederick had witnessed a remarkable transformation in his brother these past several days. Ian had gone from a carefree young man only interested in lifting any available skirt, to a man plainly besotted with the young Rose. Stifling a chuckle, Frederick said, “I be sorry to disturb ye, Rose, but I’ve come to speak with me wife.”
“She’s no’ here,” Rose said as she pulled the door open and walked back to her table, leaving Frederick standing in the open doorway.
If Aggie wasn’t here, chances were, she was below stairs in the kitchen. He wanted to go in search of his wife, but instinct said that mayhap Rose needed to talk. “Are ye well, Rose?” he asked as he took a step into the room.
A long table stood in the center of the tiny and cramped room. He’d never been inside the room before.
Fabrics of varying kinds and hues covered the table. Most of it was fabric that Lady Arline had sent as a wedding gift for Aggie. A cot was pushed against the wall to his left to allow more room to move about the small room. Two little windows stood on either side of the fireplace and in front of each were two plain chairs. Frederick could imagine the hours Rose and his wife would sit in front of those windows sewing and talking.
“Do ye have enough room here, Rose?” Frederick asked as he looked about the cramped quarters.
Rose shrugged her shoulders as she fidgeted with the fabric on the table. “It serves its purpose, I suppose.”
Although he couldn’t say that he knew Rose well enough to gauge her moods, it took no huge leap of one’s mind to see that something was bothering the woman. “Rose, are ye well?”
Another shrug of her shoulders and a dismissive shake of her head were her only answers. He began to wonder if Ian had said or done something to put her in this pensive mood. Frederick took a deep breath, crossed his arms over his chest and spread his feet apart, shoring up for the answer to his next question. “What has me brother done?”
Rose wasn’t some bar wench or cheap whore that a man could purchase for a few hours. Nay, she was a fine woman who deserved to be treated with kindness and respect. If Ian had done anything to harm either Rose’s heart or reputation, he’d strangle him.
Rose let loose with a frustrated sigh. “Yer brother is a whoreson, but I think ye already ken that,” she said without looking at Frederick. “I ken his kind all too well. He be the kind of man who thinks he can get by with his handsome looks and brilliant smile. The kind of man who will bed any willin’ lass, am I right?”
Aye, she had described Ian perfectly. And until just a few short months ago, it would have been an apt description of Frederick as well. But marriage had changed Frederick. He no longer believed there were two kinds of women. The kind ye married and bore children with and the kind ye bed without a guilty conscience or worry to the future. Rose was in the first category and, Frederick declared, that’s where she damned well better stay or he�
�d kill his brother.
“Ian is me brother and aye, ye’ve described him accurately,” Frederick agreed. “But there is more to Ian than what ye see. He is a good man, one ye can count on in times of trouble, want or need. He does have a good heart, Rose. And I trust him not only with my life, but with Aggie’s, Ailrig’s and yer’s. There be no’ too many people who I’d give such trust to.”
Rose finally lost interest with the fabric and slowly lifted her eyes to meet Frederick’s.
“Aye, he’s a whoreson, I’ll give ye that. But mayhap, no’ the kind yer used to, lass. What has he done? Has he harmed ye? Has he been unkind? Has he tried to—” his words fell short. He didn’t want to be too forward with Rose and the last thing he wanted to do was to insult her.
Rose lifted an eyebrow. “Bed me?” she gave an unladylike snort. “Nay, at least, no’ yet. I fear however, that that is what his true intent be. To bed me and leave me.”
Frederick felt his cheeks blush ever so slightly. Rose was blunt and to the point. She giggled at his embarrassment.
“Och! Ye, fool! Ye think me a young innocent?” she asked. “I’ve been married before, ye ken. Long ago. I was six and ten and he was three and forty.”
With such an age difference, Frederick had to assume it had been an arranged marriage. He waited patiently for Rose to continue.
“Aye, yer right. ’Twas an arranged marriage,” Rose said as if she knew what he was thinking. “Ye see, me mum and da died when I was five and ten. Mermadak, as chief, arranged fer me to marry Almer Gray. He was a good man, kind and decent. A wee slow in the mind at times, but still, he was a good man.”
Frederick was relieved to hear that at least one McLaren man was good and decent. Hopefully, there were more men like this Almer Gray to be found.
Rose picked up a length of fabric and began to fold it. “Ye be wonderin’, I reckon, if there be more good men like Almer here,” Rose said without looking at him. “There are. But only one or two.”
Frederick wondered how on earth Rose was able to know what he was thinking. Since he did not believe in witchcraft, he supposed she was simply a very astute young woman. He remained quiet while she continued.
“We were married four years, no’ blessed with any children, ye ken. I dunnae if the problem was mine or his, but it didna matter. We were as happy as we could be given our circumstances. He died three years ago of a heart seizure.” She placed the folded fabric on the table, grabbed another length of a deep blue damask and began to fold it. “I missed him somethin’ fierce, ye see. Ours was no’ exactly a romantic match, ye ken. ’Twas more of mutual respect and affection. He protected me and I kept him a good, clean home.” A smile lit on her face, from some fond memory of her husband, Frederick supposed. “He liked me cookin’.”
Frederick didn’t push for more information. He supposed she would eventually get around to what was bothering her as it pertained to Ian.
Her smile faded and it was as if the entire room filled with sadness. “’Twasn’t long after Almer died that men started comin’ around me cottage. They pretended to worry over me safety and how I fared livin’ all alone, ye ken.” Rose placed the folded fabric on top of the first before angrily pulling another length from the table. “Och! Rose, ye must be so lonely here all alone!” she mocked. “Ye need a man here at night to keep ye warm.” She shook her head and looked disgusted. “They didna care about me heart or if I had enough to eat or enough wood to see me through. Nay, they wanted only one thing. The dogs.”
Widows, especially one as pretty as Rose, were probably considered prime pickings for most men. Frederick could understand Rose’s distrustful attitude toward men. He supposed she wanted more from a man than the offering of a warm bed and he could not blame her.
“And me brother,” Frederick began. “I take it he’s acted no different than the others?”
She shrugged her shoulders and let out a heavy sigh. “No’ exactly,” she answered reluctantly.
“Well, what has he done to earn yer ire?”
“He says he’s no’ like the others. He says he wouldna break me heart. He says he wants to offer me more than just a quick tumble under the sheets,” she answered exasperatedly.
That did not sound like his brother at all. “Ian told you that?”
“Aye,” she answered, still angrily folding the piles of fabric.
“Me brother, Ian Mackintosh? About so tall,” Frederick held his hand at eye level. “Blonde hair, blue eyes. Much more handsome than me? Almost too pretty to be a man?”
Rose expelled a frustrated breath. “I be no’ a fool, Frederick! Aye, him. Yer younger brother, Ian Mackintosh.”
Frederick’s eyes widened as he whistled.
Rose stared up at him curiously.
“That does no’ sound like me brother. Nay, I would believe ye if ye told me he was tryin’ to impress ye with pretty words or lettin’ ye ken ahead of time he be no’ the marryin’ kind.” Frederick paused to think on it for a moment. “Did he ask fer yer hand?”
“Nay, he didna ask fer me hand,” Rose answered, sounding a bit deflated.
“Well, what then did he ask fer?”
Rose hemmed and hawed for a moment before answering. “A chance.”
“A chance?” Frederick asked, growing more and more confused. “A chance fer what?”
“A chance to prove to me he’s no’ like the others! A chance to win me heart!” Rose threw her hands in the air and began to pace about the room.
Frederick whistled again. The moment he thought would never come, had. Aye, he knew his brother was smitten with Rose, but he hadn’t realized until now just how serious he was about this young woman.
“So I ask ye, Frederick Mackintosh, does yer brother lie or speak the truth? Does he just look at me as a challenge because I told him I wasna interested in his pretty face or fancy words?”
That thought hadn’t entered his mind until Rose mentioned it. He doubted any woman had ever told Ian nay. In truth, there were many times Ian had turned down offers to warm his bed, especially if he had any inkling that the young woman making the offer might be wanting more than just a tumble under the sheets. Women were known to fall over themselves to get near the young man. And if Ian were so interested in a bonny lass, there was very little coaxing needed. Mayhap, Ian did look at Rose as a challenge, but Frederick felt there was more to his feelings for the young woman.
“Rose, me brother is no’ the kind to lie to a woman. He’s never had to before. If it will make ye feel better, I’ll speak to him. He’ll tell me the truth of it.”
“Nay!” Rose nearly shouted. “Do no’ tell him I spoke to ye! He’ll think I’m interested and then I’ll never get rid of him! He’s too confident as it is.”
Frederick chuckled. “Aye, Ian’s never suffered from a lack of confidence. I will no’ tell him that ye and I spoke of him. I have noticed he’s taken an interest in ye, which is no’ a lie. I’ll simply ask him what his intentions are. And if I find he’s not bein’ genuine with ye, I’ll kill him fer makin’ ye fret so.”
A relieved smile blossomed on Rose’s face. “Ye do no’ need to kill him, Frederick. But I do thank ye fer the offer.”
Glad that the situation was temporarily settled, Frederick clapped his hands together. “Now, have ye seen me wife?”
“Did ye check the roof?”
“Why would she be on the roof?” This was the second time in the past week someone had told him his wife was on the roof. He had been distracted the first time it had been mentioned and he had never gotten around to asking his wife about it.
“’Tis where she keeps her garden.”
Confused as to why a person kept a garden on the roof, Frederick started to ask Rose for an explanation, but thought better of it. “Which roof?”
“The tower roof,” she said before giving him proper directions.
Frederick thanked her and as he was about to leave, his eyes landed on the length of lavender fabric Rose had pulled from
the pile. He didn’t know much about fabric, at least not when it came to the kinds women used for dresses and chemises.
The fabric was gauzy, not quite heavy enough for a dress. Rose took note of how he stared at the fabric in her hands. “’Tis beautiful, don’t ye think?”
“Aye, I do. But it doesna appear to be thick enough fer a gown.”
“True,” Rose agreed. “But it would make a lovely chemise or nightdress.”
Frederick’s eyes lit up with the mental image of his bonny Aggie wearing such a garment. He always felt like a lecher when his thoughts turned in such a manner. Wiping the smile from his face, he simply nodded his head in agreement and quit the room in search of his wife.
IT DID NOT take long for Frederick to make his way to the tower roof. Today was Findal and Robert’s turn to watch over Aggie. He found Robert at the top of the stairs. The young man stood at attention, one hand immediately going to the hilt of his sword the moment he heard the door open.
“Good day to ye, Robert,” Frederick greeted him. “I’m told me wife is on the roof. Gardening.”
Robert nodded his head in amusement. “Aye, that she is,” Robert answered. “Findal is with her.
“Thank ye, Robert. I’ll take over from here. Ye can go now, take a rest or eat, but meet Findal outside me bedchamber in an hour’s time.”
Robert thanked him and left as Frederick took the ladder up to the roof. He’d only taken three rungs before he was forced to push open the door. He poked his head through and looked about the area. To his immediate left were two wide, tall chimney stacks butted up against one another. A small knee wall divided the original tower and the main keep.
Glancing around, he could not immediately see his wife or Findal. Frederick climbed the rest of the way up and onto the roof, into the warm air and sunshine.
He stood in quiet contemplation for a few moments, scanning the horizon. He could see for miles in all directions. The rocky terrain, the forest, the small glen; unremarkable land for as far as the eye could see. A few crofters huts scattered here and there, but naught else. A sudden sense of melancholy fell over him. The land was not suitable for crops, not like Clan Graham lands or the Mackintosh lands he grew up in. He felt homesick for the first time in years.
Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series Page 19
