Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series

by Suzan Tisdale

  “Does me answer surprise ye, lass?” Frederick asked sounding a bit concerned that he may have stepped over a line.

  “Nay,” Aggie said as she looked ahead. “’Tis a fine answer.”

  Frederick laughed heartily and gave her as much of a hug as he was able.

  AS DANIEL HAD predicted, they arrived at the McLaren keep before the midnight hour, but not by much. Frederick sent Ian, Daniel and three other men ahead to gain some idea as to what they might be riding into. He remained behind with his wife, holding her protectively as they waited for word.

  They did not have to wait long before the men returned with good news. Rowan had effectively battled with the Bowie men and claimed the keep in Frederick and Aggie’s names. Aggie was tempted to tell Frederick she had no interest in staying here. Was any of it truly worth all they had gone through these past few days? Keeping her thoughts to herself, she hid her worry and concern behind a veil of disinterest.

  Rowan greeted them at the gates of the keep. Aggie caught the faint whiff of death and blood as they rode through and prayed that none of Rowan’s men had fallen.

  In short order, Rowan helped her down, while Ian and Peter saw to Frederick. They were whisked into the keep.

  “Rowan,” Aggie said as she entered the gathering room. “I fear I have no way to repay ye fer all ye’ve done.”

  Rowan flashed a brilliant smile her way as he gave her a slight bow at his waist. “Think nothin’ of it, my lady. I ken Frederick would have done the same were our roles reversed.”

  Ian and Peter had stopped at the bottom of the stairs so that Frederick could speak with Rowan. “I pray none of yer men were lost, Rowan.”

  “Only a few minor injuries,” Rowan said. “The Bowies, however, received the worst of it.”

  “Aggie and I thank ye, Rowan,” Frederick said.

  Rowan smiled again. “We’ll speak no more of it this night. ’Tis late and ye all look like hell.” He turned to Aggie then and apologized. “Pardon me coarse language, me lady.”

  Aggie smiled up at him. “Thank ye, again. And yer right, we do need baths and sleep.”

  Rowan bowed to her again. “I shall leave ye to it and we can speak in the morn.”

  With that, Aggie curtsied, took Ailrig’s hand in hers, and headed toward the stairs.

  “I’ll need fresh bandages for Frederick’s hand and a bath brought to our bedchamber,” she said as she climbed the stairs. “Ailrig, ye’ll need a bath too.”

  For once, Ailrig didn’t argue. “Aye,” he said. “I fear I smell like the Bowie keep and I do no’ like it.”

  Ian and Peter carried Frederick up the stairs, with Rose bringing up the rear. “I can help Ailrig, Aggie, if ye’d like. I imagine ye’ll be needin’ some peace and quiet to tend to Frederick.”

  Frederick grunted. “I’m no’ so badly injured that I canna take care of meself,” he said indignantly.

  Ian laughed. “Would ye like to walk up these stairs on yer own then?”

  Frederick shot him an angry and frustrated glare. “I’ll be right as rain in a few days, Ian. I’ll be able to walk tomorrow and then I’ll show ye—”

  Aggie stopped his protest by calling to them over her shoulder. “Ye’ll no’ be walkin’ tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that, husband. And don’t even think about arguin’ it with me, fer ye’ll lose. I’ll tie ye to yer bed if I must, to see to it that ye heal properly.” She pushed open the door to their bedchamber and stepped inside.

  “Put me in the chair,” Frederick directed. Ian and Peter did as he requested, helping him to sit in the chair in front of the fire. Ailrig rushed over and helped set his feet on the cushioned stool.

  “How do ye fare, da?” the boy asked, his face etched with worry.

  “I be fine!” Frederick ground out. When he saw Ailrig’s face fall, he felt instantly sorry and began to apologize. “I be sorry fer shoutin’ Ailrig. I fear I make a lousy patient. I do no’ like bein’ injured and it makes me a wee bit grumpy that I canna even walk on me own.” He rubbed the top of Ailrig’s head and smiled at him.

  “A wee bit grumpy?” Ian countered.

  Frederick shot him a look of warning. Ian smiled, enjoying the fact that he could say what he wanted to his brother at the moment and there was not a thing the man could do.

  “Will ye both stop?” Aggie said. It was more of a demand than a request.

  Two men entered the room carrying a tub. Aggie directed them to place it on the floor near the fire and thanked them for their help. She turned to her friends as soon as the men left. “Thank ye all, verra kindly. I’ll be askin’ ye to leave now, so that I can give Frederick a bath.”

  Frederick cast her a terrified look to which Ian and Peter laughed. “I be no’ a bairn, Aggie!” Frederick protested. “I can bathe meself! And Ian, stop yer bloody laughin’ at my expense!”

  Rose stepped forward to disarm the situation. “Ian, please, show yer brother some kindness. Come help me bathe Ailrig, then we’ll see about bathin’ ye.”

  Ian’s smile faded in the blink of an eye, replaced by a look of stunned surprise. Uncertain if Rose meant what he thought she meant, he nodded his head and followed her and Ailrig out of the room like a pup after its mum. Peter rolled his eyes and bid a good night to Frederick and Aggie.

  Once the door shut, Aggie turned to her husband. “Finally,” she exclaimed. “Now, let’s get ye out of those clothes.”

  FREDERICK WAS WHOLLY dumbfounded, and for a moment, he wished his wife would revert back to her former meek and mild self. This new Aggie was perplexing and honestly, terrifying. Though she was just as sweet and beautiful as always, this new found courage she was displaying flummoxed him.

  He was the protector, the one in charge, the one who took care of her, not the other way around. In a matter of just a few short days, their roles had been reversed, and, or so it seemed, their personalities. Suddenly, he was the frightened one who didn’t know which way to turn.

  “Mayhap ye should go first. I feel verra tired and would like to go to bed.”

  A knock at the door stopped Aggie from telling him he was mad if he thought she’d allow him to climb under the expensive linens before bathing. She stepped to the door and opened it. Stepping aside, she allowed three men carrying buckets of hot water in. “Thank ye kindly,” she told them as they filled the tub with hot, steamy water. She closed the door after them and returned to kneel beside her husband.

  “Frederick,” she said softly. “I ken ye be in a good amount of pain. I promise, after a bath, I can give ye something to help ye sleep.”

  “Ye should go first,” he repeated.

  “Nay, ye need to go first. I bathed earlier, in a wee loch while ye slept.”

  He felt disappointed that he had been sleeping and not able to watch while she bathed out of doors in the loch. His mind instantly pictured her, water cascading down her perfect form and his manhood came to full attention.

  He searched for words, something, anything that would get him out of removing his clothes. Feeling very much a fool at the moment, he stammered and stuttered.

  “Frederick, what be the matter? Are ye worried about me seein’ ye naked?” she asked playfully.

  Aye, I am! I be a wretched man.

  “Frederick, truly, I can help ye to bathe, ye needn’t be shy about it. Now, come, let us get these filthy clothes off.” She began tugging at his tunic.

  Frederick resisted by crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. Aggie wasn’t sure if she should feel insulted or worried. Mayhap he had some affliction and that was why he still hadn’t made any attempt toward a physical relationship.

  Deciding now was not the time to argue with him or push the matter further, she surrendered. “Verra well then, Frederick. I shall leave ye alone to bathe yerself. I’ll go above stairs to see to Ailrig.”

  He said nothing as he watched her leave the room.

  Thirty-Eight

  A WEEK HAD passed since Aggie and Freder
ick had returned to the McLaren keep. His feet, though not broken, had been seriously bruised. Aggie had refused to allow him to leave their bedchamber until he could walk without falling down or grimacing in pain.

  Rowan had left days ago but had graciously offered to leave a dozen of his men behind. Frederick and Aggie were more than grateful for the extra hands. Still, they both worried that if they were attacked by even a small band of warriors, they’d be sorely outnumbered.

  Without knowing the whereabouts of Mermadak, Frederick sent word to his father that they were in serious need of help. In his missive, he explained the severity of the situation and would be grateful for any and all help that his family could offer.

  Ian took the lead on helping to repair damages left in the wake of the battle between the Bowies and the Grahams. It was not an easy task when one considered their meager supplies. He sent smaller groups of men out to hunt, but unless their father came through with the necessary supplies, they’d not survive the upcoming winter.

  Aggie spent her days helping to put the keep back to rights as best she could. With Rose and Mrs. McCurdy’s help, the keep was scrubbed from top to bottom. They picked what vegetables and fruits that were available and set about adding to the larder. It was, to say the least, a depressing task.

  On the evening of the eighth day, Aggie returned to her bedchamber with a meager evening meal to share with Frederick. She found him sitting at his desk, writing in his journal. He smiled and stood when she entered the room and took the tray from her.

  Aggie smiled up at him. “’Tis good to see ye walkin’ without cursin’ up a storm!” she teased him.

  “I do no’ think I’m ready to do any dancin’ just yet, but I can at least make it to the chamber pot and back of me own accord.” He set the tray down on his desk and offered his wife a seat next to it.

  “How was yer day, me lady wife?” he asked as he tore off a chunk of bread and offered it to her.

  “Busy!” she said as she brushed away a loose strand of hair. “We finally managed to scrub clean the third floor.”

  Frederick returned her smile. “So I see,” he said as he reached over and wiped a bit of dirt from her chin with his thumb.

  Aggie’s face burned red. “Och! I must look a fright!” she exclaimed as she tried to tame the loose strands of hair. Standing, she swiped dust from her skirt and went to wash up at the basin by their bed. “I didna think to wash before comin’ up. I was anxious to make certain ye ate,” she said as she poured cold water into the basin and splashed it on her face and neck.

  In truth, she’d thought of him all day long. He was doing much better now and there was a topic they needed to discuss, one, she hoped, would not end in them fighting. Patting her face and hands with the drying cloth, she looked down at her dark blue gown and saw that it was far dirtier than she had realized. “This will no’ do,” she whispered before stepping into their dressing room.

  “Do no fash yerself, Aggie. Ye look beautiful.”

  Her skin grew warm at his compliment. She unlaced the front of her gown and stepped out of it. She let loose a frustrated sigh when she saw the hem of her white chemise was dirty. “Eat, Frederick,” she called from within. “I’ll only b-be a moment.”

  Frederick laughed. “Aggie, do no’ worry it,” he called back. “Ye look fine, lass. Hurry, yer supper will get cold.”

  Frustrated, she tugged off the chemise and grabbed the first thing she saw. ’Twas a lavender nightdress that Rose had made. Intricate embroidery lined the bodice in a stitch that Aggie doubted she’d ever be able to replicate. Shrugging her shoulders, she slipped into the nightdress and tied the long, silk ribbon at the waist. ’Twas a beautiful design, with long, loose sleeves. Aggie thought it a bit too fine for sleeping in, but Rose assured her it would be just fine.

  “AGGIE, YER SUPPER is gettin’ cold,” Frederick called to her again. “Come now, lass. Ye be beautiful. Even more beautiful when ye blush,” he teased with a chuckle.

  He was such a confounding man! He thought nothing of giving her compliments, but when it came to kisses or anything remotely more intimate, he balked and ran away.

  Aggie stepped from behind the curtain and walked to the desk. Frederick had just stuck a piece of dried venison into his mouth when he looked up. The mischievous smile faded, replaced with wide eyes and something Aggie didn’t recognize. He swallowed hard once, then again before speaking.

  “Ye look cold,” he muttered. “Ye should put on a robe.”

  Aggie gave him a dismissive wave. “I be fine,” she said as she took her seat.

  His Adam’s apple continued to bob up and down as he stared at her. “Nay, ye should put on a robe.”

  Aggie plopped a piece of apple in her mouth. What had gotten into him? “I be no’ cold, Frederick.”

  Apparently, he didn’t believe her. He stood, went to the bed and retrieved the robe he had given her weeks ago. Returning to Aggie, he lifted her left arm and stuffed it into the sleeve. “Ye’ll catch yer death,” he said as he pulled her up to her feet, wrapped the robe around her and stuffed her other arm in. After he tied the belt around her waist, he gave her shoulders a gentle pat and sat her back down. “There,” he said, sounding quite relieved.

  Aggie didn’t know what to make of him or his instance that she don a robe when she was not the least bit cold. Would there ever come a time that she would understand her husband completely?

  WHEN AGGIE HAD stepped from behind the curtain, the light of the fireplace cast her in a near ethereal glow. When she walked in front of the flames, he was able to see the outline of her very fine figure. Though she was wee and skinny enough that it worried him, she did in fact have a very nice figure. Shapley hips and well-toned thighs were barely hidden beneath the sheer lavender fabric. Her unbound hair cascaded down her back. He wanted to bury his face in the long tendrils.

  His throat had gone horribly dry, his palms felt sweaty and his fingers itched for a chance to caress every square inch of her. She had no earthly idea the effect she had on him, was completely oblivious to the fact that were he a lesser man, he would have lifted her up, tossed her onto the bed and spent the next fortnight embarking on a thorough exploration of her body.

  But he was not a lesser man, a fact that did not make him feel any less attracted to her. His groin ached, his tongue tingled as the sweat broke out across his upper lip. God’s teeth, he did not know how much longer he could wait to make her completely his. Regardless of whether she was cold or not, he had to cover her before he lost complete control of his good senses. The robe seemed the most logical choice.

  Yet, after draping it around her and cinching it at the waist, he found he felt no relief. It mattered not what she wore or how many layers of clothing he swathed her in, he still found her beautiful and desirable. He could not let her know that yet. ’Twas too soon. She’d gone through far too much these past years. Reminding himself that she was not yet ready, he tried to focus on his meal.

  THEY SAT IN quiet contemplation while they ate. Aggie’s stomach was in knots for she worried over how he would react when she broached the subject of consummation.

  “Wife, ye be awfully quiet this night. Are ye well?” He looked genuinely concerned.

  “Aye, I am well, husband.” In truth, she didn’t feel at all well. She was confused and worried over how to broach the tender subject.

  Frederick studied her closely for a time. “Is there somethin’ on yer mind?” he asked.

  She couldn’t look at him. Instead, she kept her eyes on her hands in her lap. “Well, aye, but …” this was not going to be easy.

  Frederick sighed and ran a hand across his face. “Aggie, I’ve told ye before. If there be somethin’ ye want to tell me or to talk about, ye can. Just say what’s on yer mind, lass.”

  “Ye say that, but I fear ye do no’ always mean it.”

  His sat taller in his chair and looked insulted. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, sometimes, ye get a
wee short-tempered and stomp away without listenin’ to me.”

  He couldn’t argue that point, no matter how badly he wished that he could. He breathed in deeply through his nostrils and let it out very slowly. “I promise, I’ll no’ do that to ye any more. Please, tell me what is on yer mind.”

  Truly, there was no easy way to broach it, so she decided to meet it head on. “Do ye suffer from an affliction?”

  From the confused look on his face, he had no earthly idea what she meant, so she continued. “I mean, an affliction of yer person that makes it so ye canna do certain things.”

  He blinked once, then again. This was not going well at all.

  “I only ask, ye see, because ye will no’ allow me to help ye with yer bathin’,” she said, finally reaching the heart of the matter. “If ye do have an affliction or an aliment of some kind, or perhaps ye’ve been injured in battle, I do no’ want ye to think I’d be holdin’ that against ye.”

  When the realization of what she was referring to finally sunk in, Frederick jumped to his feet. “Nay!” he protested, injured at the suggestion. “I do no’ have an affliction!”

  Aggie’s eyes grew wide as she leaned back to look up at him. “Ye promised ye’d no lose yer temper,” she politely reminded him.

  “That was before ye started insultin’ me!” he argued as he ran a hand through his hair.

  Aggie pursed her lips together. “’Twas no’ an insult, Frederick. What am I to think when ye turn me away all the time?”

  “I do no such thing!” he said.

  Aggie finally stood. “Ye have and ye do! Ye refuse to kiss me, even when I say ’tis yer right,” she began to give examples, but the moment he heard ’tis yer right, he grew instantly enraged.

  “Damn it, Aggie! I’ve told ye and told ye and told ye, I be no’ the kind of man who takes what is no’ freely given!” he shouted as he headed toward the door.

  “Frederick Mackintosh!” Aggie shouted back as she raced toward him. “If ye even think about steppin’ through that door, I’ll shove me dirk so far up yer arse it will pierce yer heart!”