Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series

by Suzan Tisdale

It only took a quick search of her memory to recall it. “Aye, I do. Ye were gone a verra long time…” her words trailed away as the realization struck. “And ye came back with Ailrig.”

  A tear escaped, trailing down Aggie’s cheek. “There was n-no ill aunt. I was in me f-fourth month when m-mum and I realized I was w-with child. She m-made up the story about the aunt and w-we went to Inverness. She had a f-friend who lived there, who let us stay in her home. I g-gave birth to Ailrig a wee early, in the m-middle of the n-night.” She took a deep breath and went on. “I c-couldna g-give him up, Rose. I c-couldna. He might no’ have been b-born out of a g-great love affair but he was still m-mine.”

  Rose smiled pitifully and wrapped her arms around Aggie. “Och, Aggie, I be so sorry! I wish I had known. I would have helped ye more.”

  Aggie returned Rose’s embrace. “Ye d-did more than ye realized, Rose. ‘Twere it n-no’ fer ye, I d-doubt I would have survived these p-past years. Ye b-be more a sister than a friend, and I will always cherish ye. But I understand if ye c-canna be seen with me n-now that ye ken the truth.”

  Rose pulled away and looked offended. “Aggie Mackintosh, how dare ye? How could ye think I’d no longer want to be yer friend or be seen with ye?”

  “We’ll n-no longer have Frederick and Ian to p-protect us, Rose. I’m sure he’ll be leavin’ n-now that he k-kens the truth! Ye have to s-separate yerself from me, f-from Ailrig. I d-do no’ want ye to be p-punished fer me sins.”

  “What sins, Aggie?” Rose demanded. “Did ye ask Eduard Bowie to rape ye and cut ye that day? Did ye ask him to get ye with child then desert ye?”

  “Nay!” Aggie professed. “Nay, I d-did no’!”

  Rose smiled. “Then why would I desert ye?” she asked. “I be yer friend Aggie. No matter what happens, I be yer friend. Now and always.”

  Another tear made its way down Aggie’s cheek and she reached out and hugged Rose. Although she was relieved to have Rose’s promise to always be there for her, Aggie knew it wouldn’t be of much use when Frederick left her.

  FREDERICK HAD FIRST seen to it that Ailrig was safe. Findal had found the boy and now had him stowed away in the room just across from Frederick’s. He left Findal with strict orders that they were not to leave the room unless Frederick or Ian came for them.

  Once he left them, he paused outside his own chamber door. His wife was on the other side, no doubt suffering with the possibility that her son would be sent to foster with the man who had raped her and subsequently gotten her with child. Knowing he was still far too angry to manage his temper, he turned away from the door and made his way out of the keep. He had much soul searching to do.

  He walked around the courtyard for a time before spying the little building that was used as a kirk. The clan was too poor to keep a full time priest, but at the moment, Frederick didn’t want to speak of his troubles to anyone but God.

  Stepping inside the small building, it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. It had been raining off and on all day, so no sunlight shone through the windows. He rounded the corner and walked down the aisle to the altar. The little kirk was cold, the air musty and damp.

  There were no candles anywhere to be found. None to brighten the room or any to offer up a prayer. He supposed God wouldn’t mind if he had no candle, He would listen all the same.

  Frederick knelt before the altar, folded his hands together and bowed his head to pray. Praying first for forgiveness for being too long in visiting the kirk, then for help in understanding his wife.

  Why had she kept this important secret from him? Why could she not trust him yet? Was she telling him the entire truth? Doubt crept in and he was not sure what to believe at the moment.

  He did not believe she had lied about what had happened that day ten years ago. There was too much fear in her eyes, too many scars—both figurative and real—that proved the truth on that matter. Nay, he did not think she lied about that.

  It was confusing. If she was able to tell him the truth about that day, then why not also tell him the truth about Ailrig?

  Frederick tried stepping out of his own shoes for a moment and stepping into hers. He could well understand why she had not told her father that Eduard Bowie had attacked her. Knowing Mermadak as he now did, he was certain he would have forced a marriage between the two. It would not have mattered to the uncaring man that his only child, his daughter, had been brutally and savagely attacked. All that would have mattered would be saving his reputation. Thus, it made sense that she would keep that secret from her father.

  But Frederick was not her father. He was her husband. Had he mistakenly believed that they were growing closer these past few weeks? Had he mistaken her embrace on the rooftop days ago for something else?

  Aggie could not trust him and that bothered him most of all. Why was she finding it so difficult? He had declared his fealty to her on more than one occasion, had even declared it openly and in front of all her clan just a few days ago. He had done everything he could think of to earn her trust, yet… yet she could not give him that which he wanted most of all.

  More than anything, he wanted—nay needed—her trust. Without it, he did not believe they could have the kind of marriage he wanted. Without it, they could not move forward. Without it he would feel…he would feel less a man.

  It dawned on him then, that he was more worried about his own feelings than his wife’s.

  Aye, he had plied her with dresses and slippers and baubles, had allowed her to keep her herb garden. He had declared his fealty and loyalty. He had been patient and not pushed the matter of consummating the marriage.

  But had he professed to her what was in his heart? Had he asked Aggie what she wanted or desired? He searched his mind for some moment where he had asked for her thoughts, feelings or opinions and came up empty handed.

  How could he expect her to trust him, when he hadn’t shown her the same kindness? Still, he wondered, could he trust her? What other secrets was she keeping from him? Were there other children? Any lovers she had not told him of?

  He would have to find out, demand the entire truth from her, once and for all. There would be no holding back, no restrained and cautious questions. To this, he’d give no quarter and allow her to tell him everything later, when she felt more comfortable discussing matters with him. Nay, there would be none of that. There could be nothing now but sheer unadulterated truth, no matter how ugly it might be.

  ROSE REMAINED WITH Aggie as the hours passed by slowly. Neither Frederick nor Ian, nor anyone else had come to check on Aggie. The longer they went without news, the more worried they both became. And the angrier Rose grew with Frederick. She could not understand how he could leave Aggie here, alone, not knowing what was happening with Ailrig. Mayhap Aggie had been correct when she said that Frederick was too angry to help.

  Night had fallen and a steady rain fell against the walls of the keep. They had missed the evening meal for neither of them felt much like eating. Rose had offered to help Aggie into a nightdress, but she had refused. She was not quite ready yet to give up the day to sleep. She wanted to remain dressed in case Ailrig needed her. Or, in case they had to make a speedy escape. How she would manage to do that, remained to be seen.

  The two women sat in quiet contemplation for a very long time. Other than tending the fire, offering her more cider and an occasional reassuring hug, Rose knew naught else to do for her friend.

  “What d-do ye think is happenin’, Rose?” Aggie asked. “D-do you no’ think we should have heard f-from someone by now? What if they left with n-no word?”

  That thought had begun to occur to Rose earlier, yet she did not want to say anything to upset Aggie. Certainly Ian would have come to her to at least say goodbye. That was, if all the things he’d been telling her these past days were true.

  Rose was about to offer to go search for Ailrig and to see what she could learn when the latch on the door lifted. Both women held their breath while they waited to see who
might be coming into their room.

  ’Twas Frederick. Aggie would not allow her hopes to rise for she was certain he had come to collect his things.

  He stepped into the room, looking stern and serious. “Ye may leave us now, Rose.”

  Rose looked to Aggie for permission. Aggie gave her hand a gentle squeeze and nodded that she would be fine. She hugged Aggie and quietly left the room, saying nothing to Frederick.

  Once the door was shut, Frederick turned back to Aggie. She stood in front of the fireplace, her eyes were red and swollen. Her skin blotchy and her nose a bright red. There was no mistaking that she had been crying for quite some time. He began to feel like an ass when he remembered what he had come here to do.

  “Frederick, I—” she started to apologize but he held up a hand to silence her.

  “Are there any others, Aggie?”

  Her brow knitted into a line of confusion. “Others?”

  “Other children.”

  “Nay!” she answered, surprised by his question. “I swear it!”

  “Are there any past or current lovers that I need to worry over?”

  She gasped and felt momentarily appalled by his line of questions. How could she blame him for thinking the worst of her? Still, it both hurt and angered her that he would think such a thing. “Nay,” she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly. “I swear it, Frederick.”

  He took a few steps forward but maintained a safe distance. Far enough away that he could quit the room if he felt his determination falter. Yet close enough that she could plainly see the sincerity of conviction in his eyes. “Ye swear it?” he asked as if he didn’t believe her.

  Her eyes grew damp and her face tightened. “Aye, I swear it, F-frederick. Ye have to b-believe me!”

  “Bah!” he spat. “Believe ye? How am I to believe ye when ye kept such a secret as Ailrig from me, Aggie?”

  She could not find any words to respond to his question. Her hands began to shake and her legs grew tired.

  “What other secrets do ye keep from me, Aggie?”

  “N-none! I swear to ye, I have n-no other secrets.”

  In three short strides he was hovering over her. “Ye swear? I canna believe ye, Aggie. I demand that ye tell me everythin’, every secret ye have, and I demand ye tell them to me now.” He had not intended on raising his voice, but if that was what it took to gain complete honesty from her, so be it.

  “There is n-nothin’ else!” she cried.

  “I do no’ believe ye, Aggie.”

  She began searching her mind for anything she could think of, no matter how small it might seem. Words began tumbling out, like loose rocks and pebbles down a mountainside after a hard rain. “I, I d-do no’ k-ken what ye want. I have n-no other secrets to t-tell ye, at least n-no’ important ones!” she told him, looking him straight in his eyes. “I, I d-do no’ like leeks. I wish we had a g-garderobe because I hate usin’ the ch-chamber pot while ye be in the room!” She knew they were silly things, but she had to tell him something.

  “I d-do no’ like sleepin’ in the n-nightdresses Rose made me. They t-twist and bind and I c-canna breathe. But with ye and Ailrig around, I m-make meself wear them. I—” she continued her mental search, thoughts and feelings colliding together in her mind, tumbling out of her mouth. “I oft f-feel guilty that I could n-no’ keep me mum from d-dyin’!” She began to cry again but held nothing back. If he wanted to know every secret she had she would give them to him. “Almost every n-night I have b-bad dreams. D-dreams of losin’ Ailrig, Rose and even ye! I worry all the d-day long that I be n-no’ good enough fer ye, that I n-never will be, and that someday ye’ll see that and regret m-marryin’ me and then ye’ll leave me!”

  Frederick’s anger began to subside when she finally started to tell him how she felt. He resisted the urge to draw her into his arms and instead, waited and listened.

  “Aye, the thought of ye leavin’ me scares me senseless, it haunts me dreams!” her voice rose and cracked. Tears flowed freely and she made no attempt to hold them back. “I could survive anythin’ but that, Frederick! I could survive livin’ with nothin’ but bread and water all the rest of me days. I could live without fine dresses, or boots in the winter! I could survive da beatin’ me each and every day for the rest of me life and I’d rather have Eduard Bowie rape me a thousand times than to have ye leave me!” she said, her body wracked with pain and anguish. “I could survive all those things Frederick, but I could no’ survive ye leavin’ me!” The words came so rapidly that she did not stutter. Not once.

  There it was. All of it. She had nothing left to give him. Nothing else she had left to say. Her soul was laid bare, naked and raw before him, offered up like a pagan sacrifice, in a fit of gut-wrenching sobs. He now knew it all.

  He could take no more. He closed the gap between them and lifted her into his arms. Moving the chair with his toe, he pulled it closer to the fire and sat down with her on his lap. Her sobs came in great waves as she buried her head into his chest. “I’m—so—sorry,” she sobbed, grabbing his tunic with her hands.

  “Wheest, lass, wheest.”

  A GOOD DEAL of time passed while Frederick held his wife. Holding her close to his chest, he rubbed her arm and whispered soothing words, allowing her to cry it all out. His intent had been to simply learn if there were any more secrets, important secrets such as more illegitimate children or former lovers hidden about. He had let anger guide him, instead of his heart or good sense.

  Though he had wanted her to share her heart with him, he hadn’t been fully prepared for what she had told him. He was an ass of biblical proportions.

  For weeks now, he’d been more concerned with what he wanted and how he felt, that he hadn’t thought to ask Aggie after her own thoughts and feelings. He’d been wretchedly self-centered in that regard. And he had yet to tell her what was in his heart.

  He had allowed his imagination to run wild when he learned that Ailrig was her son. Instead of staying to listen, to learn, he had run from the room like a coward. Staying away for hours, allowing his mind to conjure up all sorts of scenarios because he couldn’t muster the courage to stay and talk it out, had not been, in hindsight, the best decision he had made of late.

  “Aggie,” he whispered into her hair. “I be sorry fer bein’ so cruel. I was verra angry and I be sorry.”

  Sniffling, she wiped her face on her sleeve. “B-be ye angry that I had Ailrig?” she asked.

  “Nay!” he told her. “Ailrig is a fine young lad. I be no’ angry ye have him. I was angry that ye didna trust me to tell me the day ye told me what Eduard Bowie had done to ye. I felt ye didna trust me enough to confide in me.”

  Slowly, Aggie pushed herself to sit upright so that she could look into his eyes. “D-do ye understand why I c-couldna tell ye?” she asked.

  He mulled the possibilities over in his mind for a moment. “I reckon ye were afraid of how I’d react. And as it turns out, ye were probably right.”

  “I couldna t-tell anyone, Frederick. If D-da had found out,” she started to explain. “Ye see, he holds Eduard Bowie in verra high regard, sayin’ he b-be the son he never had. Da would n-no’ have cared what Eduard had d-done or how I would have felt about the m-matter. He would have forced me to m-marry him. I couldna do that. I would have killed meself first.”

  Frederick started to chastise her for even thinking such a thing, but stopped. Had he been in Aggie’s position—young and innocent and having been savagely attacked by a man such as Eduard Bowie, well, he would have probably thought the same. Death would have been preferable to living life with the man who had raped you. Silence on the matter was her only option.

  Aggie went on to recount the same story to Frederick as she had told Rose earlier. She hadn’t realized she was with child until she was four months along. “I was t-terrified, Frederick. I didna ken what to do. But I knew, no m-matter what, that I could no’ get rid of me babe. I ken he was no’ conceived out of love, but still, he was m-mine. Half
of me blood ran through his veins. I had to pray that the half of him that was me would be enough to make him a g-good lad. That he’d grow up fine, braw and strong. That he would be kind and honest and that he’d n-never do to anyone what Eduard had done to me.”

  Frederick rubbed her back with his hand. “It could no’ have been easy fer ye,” he mused.

  “‘Twould have b-been harder to give him up,” she said before turning quiet.

  “Frederick, d-do ye think me a whore f-fer keepin’ him?” she asked after some time.

  He was momentarily horrified by her line of thinking. But he could not blame her for thinking it. He had run from the room earlier and upon his return had accused her of all manner of things. Nay, he could not blame her for such an assumption. “Nay, Aggie, I do no’ and I’m sorry fer makin’ ye think that I did. Nay, I was more upset that ye hadn’t confided in me. Unless ye bed every man in the keep I could never think ye a whore.”

  Aggie visibly shrunk before him, causing him to immediately regret his choice of words. “What I mean to say, Aggie, is that I do no’ now, nor could I ever think of ye like that. I’m no’ sayin’ ye would take every man in the keep to yer bed. I ken now that ye be no’ that kind of woman.”

  “Is Ailrig safe right n-now, Frederick?” she asked. The question had been weighing heavily on her mind for hours. Until now, she had been afraid to ask after him.

  “Aye, he is, I promise. He be with Ian and Findal, right across the hall. They’ll no’ let the lad out of their sight, or out of the room, until I say so,” he said.

  Her shoulders sagged with relief and she sniffled yet again. “Thank ye, Frederick.”

  “Even though I was right sore with ye, I would no’ have let any harm come to the boy, Aggie.” He began to wonder if Ailrig knew the truth.

  “Thank ye,” she repeated before turning to look at Frederick again. “He’s all that I’ve had t-to love for many years, Frederick. Although I could n-no’ outright call him me son and had to t-treat him as a brother, he is still mine.”