FREDERICK HAD BREAKFAST sent up to their room so that he and Aggie could talk privately with Ailrig. Word would spread soon enough what he and Aggie were planning. They needed to take the time to explain it before rumors abounded.
Ailrig had complained of a stomach ache when Frederick had brought him to the room. There were dark circles under the boys eyes and he did look somewhat pale. Sitting by the fire, with Ailrig on the little stool, Frederick smiled at the boy. “Ailrig, there be somethin’ Aggie and I need to discuss with ye.”
Ailrig looked as sad as he did worried. “Yer sendin’ me away. I heard Findal and Ian talkin’ of it last eve,” he said as he sat his bowl of porridge on the floor by his feet. Before Frederick could explain the right of it, Ailrig’s eyes filled with tears as words tumbled from his mouth. “I dunna want to go away! I want to stay with Aggie! I want to learn how to be a warrior! All the Bowie can teach me is how to be a coward and a thief!” He wiped his tears on a sleeve and looked up at Frederick. “I ken ye want Aggie to yerself. I promise I’ll stay out of yer way. Please, do no’ send me away.”
Aggie could not contain her motherly instincts. She sat her food down and pulled Ailrig into her lap. “Wheest, now Ailrig! Ye need to listen.”
“Listen to what?” Ailrig asked. “Listen to how because I be bastard born I be no’ good enough fer the Mackintosh or the McLaren? That’s why ye be sendin’ me away, isna it?”
“Ailrig,” Frederick said, forcing himself to remain calm. “We’re no’ sendin’ ye away, lad.”
Ailrig’s eyes scrunched together in confusion. “But—”
Frederick held up his hand. “But, ye’ve heard that the McLaren wanted to send ye away. And instead of askin’ after it, ye assumed it to be true. I pray that next time ye overhear adults talkin’ that ye’ll come to us and ask, no’ assume.”
The boy wiped his face on his sleeve again. “So yer no’ sendin’ me away?” he asked.
Frederick allowed himself to smile. “Nay, we’re no’, Ailrig.” Frederick told him. “Now, are ye ready to listen?”
Ailrig nodded his head and wrapped an arm around Aggie’s neck and rested his head against her chest. A pang of something stung at Frederick’s heart when he looked at the two of them. This was how it should have been all along.
“Ailrig, Aggie and I would like to adopt ye, make ye our son, but we want to ken how ye feel about that first.”
Ailrig’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “What?” he asked uncertainly.
Aggie gave him a slight hug and smiled at him. “We want to make ye our son, Ailrig. Ye’d be able to call me yer mum and Frederick yer da,” she said. She cast a quick glance at Frederick, as if to ask if that was all right by him.
Frederick smiled and nodded his head. “Aye, Aggie would be yer mum and I yer father. That is if ye’d like that. We won’t do it if ye do no’ want us to.”
Large tears fell from his eyes as a smile formed. He looked up at Aggie then to Frederick. “Aye! I’d want that verra much!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Verra much!”
After hugging Aggie, Ailrig slid from her lap and went to Frederick on uncertain legs. Frederick felt a tremendous amount of relief, though he had doubted there was a chance the boy would have turned down the offer of adoption. “Ye’ll be me da?”
Frederick gave a nod and studied the child closely. He could sense there were questions the boy was afraid to ask. “Ailrig, speak yer mind, lad.”
The boy thought for a long time before speaking. “Will they still be callin’ me bastard born?”
Frederick felt a lump form in this throat. He cast a glance at his wife, whose smile had disappeared. She looked nearly as forlorn as Ailrig. Frederick reckoned he could answer the question one of two ways: the truth or a lie. He went with the former.
“Ailrig, we canna change the manner in which ye were born. There will always be some who will never look at who ye be as a man and will judge ye only on the fact that ye were born outside of wedlock. They will do this because of their own ignorance and black hearts. We can never change that, son. The only thing ye have control over is how ye behave. Do no’ let other people define who ye are or how ye live, Ailrig. Especially ignorant people.” Frederick lifted Ailrig up and sat the boy on his knee. “Ye be a McLaren now, son and—”
Aggie spoke up then, looking horrified. “Nay!” she cried out.
Frederick and Ailrig turned puzzled expressions her way. “Nay?” Frederick asked, uncertain why she would not want her son to carry her last name.
“Nay,” Aggie said, lowering her voice. “I—” she paused. “Mayhap we should d-discuss this later?”
Ailrig looked close to tears. “Be ye ashamed of me, Aggie?” he asked, his voice catching.
“Nay, Ailrig!” she said as she came to kneel before him. “I be verra p-proud of ye, my wee little man!” She looked to Frederick for help, but he was just as confused as Ailrig. She sighed and took Ailrig’s hands in hers. “Ailrig, ye be too good a lad to be a McLaren,” she said before kissing the top of his head.
Frederick rested a hand on Aggie’s shoulder and studied her closely. “Do ye wish him to take me last name?” he mouthed the words.
Aggie gave a nod of her head and curled her lips in. Her eyes were damp and full of hope as she sat, holding her breath. Pride surged in Frederick’s heart. “Ailrig, I believe yer mum wants ye to take my last name,” Frederick said as he turned Ailrig around. “How would ye feel about that?”
The tears the lad had been fighting hard to hold back finally escaped. “I’d be a Mackintosh, like ye?” he asked.
“Aye, like me.”
Wiping tears on his sleeves, Ailrig said, “A real Mackintosh?”
“Aye,” Frederick said with a smile as his heart continued to expand inside his chest. “A real and true Mackintosh.”
Ailrig wiped away more tears. “And I can tell people I be a Mackintosh? Or be it a secret?”
Frederick wrapped an arm around the boy and drew him into his chest. “Nay, ye can tell anyone ye like, Ailrig Mackintosh.”
When Frederick took the chance to look at his wife, he found her smiling up at him as tears trailed down her cheeks. There was no mistaking the relief and happiness he found in her bright eyes as she looked up at him adoringly. If his heart continued on its current trajectory, it would be exploding in a matter of moments.
Aggie rested her head against Ailrig’s back and placed her hand in Frederick’s. This, Fredrick thought to himself, is how it should have been for Aggie and Ailrig all along.
Twenty-Seven
HOPE FOR A better future with his wife sprouted and blossomed. Even though he guiltily held back the deepest part of himself, the part where he had his true feelings for Aggie carefully hidden. Someday, he supposed, when he was braver and stronger, he’d take those feelings out and examine them. Until then, he was content knowing how she felt about him.
Hope for Aggie being able to walk more than a few steps beyond the front walls of the keep also took flight. Each day, just before the evening meal, Frederick would take his wife’s hand, tuck it into the crook of his arm, and escort her outside the keep and its protective walls. With each journey beyond the walls they walked a little farther away.
He was careful to avoid the glen. It was wonderful enough just to have her outside the walls without being so terrified that she withdrew to the dark recesses of her mind. For once, he would not push, would not insist she face whatever it was that held her back. He would give her the time she needed to make that first step. Until then, he would allow her to lead the way. He’d not come crashing in like a warrior in the heat of battle. He would simply walk beside her.
They received an unexpected surprise that morn in the form of a messenger and four wagons, all sent from his father. With the messenger came a letter from both his parents, along with many much needed gifts. The wagons were filled with foodstuffs, enough fabric to sew each clanswoman a new dress, six pigs, crates filled with chickens, and furniture.
Aggie stood in wild-eyed amazement as men began unloading the wagons while asking her direction on where to take things. Thankfully, Rose was there to assist her.
An hour later, Aggie stood in the center of her room, bewildered at the sight before her. A grand bed fit for a king now stood opposite where the old bed had been. Dark green, heavily brocaded fabric draped at the corners of the bed with gold braided rope tying them to the posts.
Beautiful tables sat against the wall on either side of the bed, sporting beautiful candelabras. At the foot of the massive four-poster bed was a settee upholstered in a fabric that depicted men hunting wild boar. Two chairs upholstered in a dark green fabric and trimmed in red now flanked the fireplace and between them was a table.
A simple yet large desk complete with matching chair was placed in front of the window. Rich tapestries clung to the walls. The rushes had been swept away to allow the floor to be covered in all manner of rugs.
A quiet fell over the room as everyone filed out and left her alone to take in her new surroundings. A peaceful calm fell over the room and Aggie. It reminded her of her mother’s auld room, before her death and before Mermadak stole away all of her belongings.
She sensed rather than heard Frederick step into the room and stand behind her. Odd, she thought with a content smile. She was already able to recognize his footsteps.
“’Tis a room fit fer a queen, aye?” Frederick said in a hushed, near reverent tone.
Aggie nodded in affirmation. “Aye, and a k-king.”
“Ye like it then?” he asked as he came around to look at her.
“Of course I d-do!” she declared with a bright smile. “I never thought I’d have such fine things. I wish yer family was here to thank them.”
“Mayhap, someday soon, ye can,” he told her. “I would like to take ye. Mackintosh lands are a beautiful place, Aggie. No greener grass ye’ve ever seen. Land so rich neither man nor beast goes hungry. Our keep stands near the ocean,” he sat on the edge of the bed, wearing a pensive smile. “Och! When the storms come in across the water, crashin’ against the crags Aggie, ye’d swear God Himself was playing the drums and dancin’ with the lightnin’!”
Aggie wasn’t sure if she wanted to see such a storm, but the land and the keep? Aye, that she would love to see someday. She went to him and climbed to sit on the edge of the bed beside him, listening intently to him describing his homeland.
“We’ve the best cattle in all of Scotland, ye ken. And we make the finest wool, too, no matter what the lads in Edinburgh or Stirling might tell ye,” he chuckled as he placed his hand over hers. “I think ye and me mum would get along well, Aggie. And me da?” he chuckled again. “He be a gruff auld man, but never let that fool ye. He’s got a soft heart the size of Scotland, ye ken, when it comes to his children and grandchildren. But get him on the battlefield? Ye could search the world over and never find a more brave or fierce man.”
Aggie’s heart began to fill with longing. Oh, how she wished she could feel that way about her own homeland, family and clan. She missed those days, the days where she was proud of her mum and aye, even her da. But those days of proudly declaring herself a McLaren, she was afraid, were long gone. ’Twas all buried deep beneath the earth with her mum.
“It sounds b-beautiful, Frederick,” she said as she laced her fingers betwixt his. “I would like to see it someday.”
They fell quiet, looking into one another’s eyes. ’Twas the first time Aggie could see his hazel eyes clearly. Green and blue, with little flecks of gold in them. And his lashes? They looked much too pretty to belong on a man, but he wore them very well. She noticed a tiny scar, no bigger than the tip of a fingernail, on the top of his cheekbone. His nose was straight and long with just a slight bulb on the end.
The longer she stared at him the more uncomfortable she became. Warm and tingling sensations brushed across her skin, making her heart beat faster. She wished she were brave, for if she were, she would lean into him and press her lips against his. Much to her heart’s discontent, she wasn’t brave enough to do such a thing.
“Frederick,” she said, her voice husky and low. “Would ye like to k-kiss me?” She held her breath and waited for his answer.
Frederick tensed slightly as he stared back at her. She was a right bonny woman, with big eyes the color of amber with little flecks of brown. Aye, he wanted very much to kiss her, kiss her for the next sennight or two. However, before he did, he had to know with a certainty that a kiss was something she wanted.
Before he could ask her if a kiss was truly her desire, Aggie offered what she thought was further enticement. “It be yer right, Frederick, to kiss me if ye’d like.”
And with those words, the moment was lost. He pursed his lips together, shook his head and shot to his feet. “Damn it, woman!” he muttered as he stepped away from her.
Aggie shrank backward as her heart gave a jolt before falling into her stomach. “Frederick,” she tried to explain, but he would not listen to her.
“Let me make it perfectly clear to ye,” he said as he placed his fingertips on his hips and glared at her. “I will never take yer kisses! I will never take anythin’ from ye, merely because it be me right. I dunnae how to make it any clearer to ye than that.” He stomped to the door and flung it open. Before leaving, he turned to look at her once more. “Please, do no’ ever tell me such a thing again.”
Aggie scurried to her feet, wanting very much to ask him if he would ever want her kisses, or anything intimate from her. But he was out the door, slamming it closed behind him before she could get a word out.
HER HUSBAND WAS a stubborn man, and quite perplexing. In all things—save for when she asked for a kiss—he was patient. The only thing Aggie could come up with to explain that was he simply did not wish for a physical relationship. A few weeks ago, she would have been very grateful to have a husband who did not want to share any type of intimacies with her. Now, she was left feeling quite inadequate and flummoxed.
She could no more say how or what inside her changed than she could answer why a request for a kiss seemed to set her husband over the edge. The more she tried to figure it out, the more frustrated and angry she became.
Frederick had left in a fit of rage. He kept telling her they could talk about anything. He forced her to share her deepest secrets with him. Yet, when it came time for them to discuss what he was feeling, at least as it pertained to kisses, he refused to listen.
It wasn’t fair, not one bit. Pacing around her newly appointed bedchamber, her anger rose. She paused and looked at the beautiful bed. The bed she was going to share with her husband. The bed they would conceive their children in. That was if Frederick could get over being repulsed by her request for kisses.
Finally, she had had enough. If he would not stay and discuss the matter with her, she would search him out and demand that he hold true to his promise.
In a huff, she lifted her skirts and quit the room. ’Twas Rognall and Peter’s day to stand guard. She ignored each of their salutations as she swept down the hallway and ignored them as they followed close behind.
Stomping down the stairs, through the gathering room, down the long corridor that led out to the rear of the keep. Aggie was a woman on a mission. In her mind, she practiced the conversation she was going to have with Frederick. Ye are a pig-headed, stubborn and hypocritical man, Frederick Mackintosh, and I demand to ken why ye will no’ kiss me! I demand to ken why the thought repulses ye. Ye say me stutter doesna matter, ye say me scars are no’ important. I think ye lie. Lie like a lazy, mangy, old, flea ridden, arthritic dog!
Out in the yard, she paused to allow her eyes to adjust to the bright sun. Shielding her eyes with one hand, she searched the perimeter for the lazy, mangy, old, flea ridden, arthritic dog that was her husband. Off to her right was the old pigpen—where she swore Frederick would sleep this night if she did not get some honest answers from him. Several of her clans people were standing around the pen, a couple o
f them standing on the rails, undoubtedly looking over the new arrivals. But Frederick was not amongst them.
Ahead and to her left was the chicken coop which was now apparently too small for its new tenants. Crates filled with chickens sat on the ground nearby whilst men were busy enlarging the fencing around the coop. Ailrig was standing between Aggie and the object of her fury; her husband.
He was going about his business, seemingly unbothered by what had taken place not long ago. Smiling and laughing as he and his men worked side by side as if nothing in the world was wrong.
Aggie cursed under her breath, lifted her skirts and headed toward them. Ailrig looked up and caught sight of her. She was oblivious to anything going on around her as pigs squealed, chickens squawked, and cows mooed. She was too angry, too furious with her husband to notice anything but him. The mangy, old, lazy cur!
Ailrig smiled and started racing across the yard toward Aggie. The wee little man was excited, that much was evident in his bright smile. His smile had a way of calming her heart. Such a beautiful little boy, with a heart as pure as gold and as big as the world. Aggie felt her anger toward her husband begin to ebb when she saw her son. The delight she took in being able to call him son without worrying over her secret being found out took away more of the anger she felt toward Frederick.
The sounds of the pigs squealing grew louder and they sounded to be in a good deal of distress. Aggie slowed her pace and turned to see what was causing such a commotion amongst the pigs. Her heart stopped beating, and for a moment, her mind could not wrap itself around what was happening.
Racing toward her at the same time Ailrig was making his way across the yard, was a very large pig. Some fool had put a dress and veil on the pig, and a sign around its neck, but that did not matter! Panic set in when she saw the pig was going to collide with Ailrig!
FREDERICK HAD BEEN concentrating on enlarging the chicken coop when he heard the blood curdling scream come from his wife.
Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series Page 30
