Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series

by Suzan Tisdale

  She was not the same woman. She was no longer the laughing stock of her clan, the scared, mute Aggie McLaren.

  A smile erupted on her face when she thought on it. She was Aggie Mackintosh. Frederick’s Queen.

  MERMADAK MCLAREN WAS not a man to be trifled with. He had thought his people had learned that lesson long ago. Apparently, they would need to be reminded of the fact that he was their leader, their chief. They owed their very existence to him.

  And how did they show their allegiance, their gratitude? By allowing Rowan Graham to oust the Bowie men weeks ago. By allowing Aggie to take over and appoint the coward Frederick Mackintosh as their new chief. And if matters weren’t bad enough, they had welcomed the entire Mackintosh family and army into the walls of the McLaren keep.

  He had warned them, warned them all time and time again that he was not a man to be ignored. His word was law. His people needed to fear him more than the God they worshiped. But did they listen? Nay!

  Gone for a month now and all of his hard work over the past four years was laid to waste, or so it appeared. When he had received word of all the changes taking place on his land and within his keep, he could not have been more surprised. Like lambs to slaughter, his people had followed Frederick Mackintosh and Aggie.

  The hounds of death were nipping at his heels. Soon, he’d not be able to outrun them. Death was coming for him.

  But before he would succumb to its sweet mercy, he would have one last stand as the chief of Clan McLaren.

  Forty-Five

  ’TWAS THE LAST night of the Mackintoshes visit. Much to Ailrig’s delight, another fine feast was prepared. The food, the music, and the laughter were all reminiscent of their first night at the McLaren keep.

  Aggie would be sorry to see them leave on the morrow. She had grown to love and care for John, Elsbeth and the rest of Frederick’s family and people. She knew that Frederick would miss them terribly as well, so she worked extra hard making certain that tonight’s feast was as grand as possible and that her husband would not only be proud of her, but that he would enjoy the time with his family.

  Aggie wore Frederick’s favorite gown, the lavender silk with the gold trim. Rose and Elsbeth had fixed her hair so that it tumbled down her back in waves, and had woven tiny dried flowers throughout it.

  A proud smile, with just a hint of lust, formed on Frederick’s face when he’d come to escort his wife to the meal earlier. Aggie sat at the high table now, glancing at her husband from time to time. Reckoning he might be too into his cups later for her to try delighting him with something Rose had shared with her earlier, she was trying to devise a way to steal him from the party for just a little while. All they needed was an alcove and a quarter of an hour. Less time if what Rose had said was true.

  As she sat lost in her thoughts, out of the corner of her eye she saw Ian and Findal slowly stand up from their table. Their hands immediately went to the hilts of their swords. In the span of two heartbeats, the rest of the men in the room followed suit. Ian and Findal were focused on something at the opposite end of the gathering room. Aggie’s heart leapt into her throat when she saw the object of their concern.

  ELSBETH, HAVING SEEN the color drain from Aggie’s face, leaned in to ask her what was the matter. Aggie’s eyes, wide with trepidation, were fixed on the two men standing near the staircase. She could not answer. Ailrig took one look at the two men and ran to his Grandda John’s lap.

  Mermadak was there. And he’d brought Donnel with him.

  Leaning against a cane, Mermadak McLaren cast a scrutinizing glare across the crowded room. Donnel stood behind him and to his left. Both men looked just as ugly, just as black-hearted as Aggie remembered. Mermadak’s hair had grown several shades lighter since last she’d seen him. It fell in oily clumps past his shoulders. A week’s worth of stubble covered his face, and even from this distance, Aggie could see his bloodshot, yellow eyes. His tunic and trews hung loosely from his slight frame. He had lost a good deal of weight and now his skin, an odd shade of yellow, sagged under his eyes and chin. He looked worse than death.

  It had felt as though a lifetime had passed since last anyone had seen either man, though in truth it was little more than a month. Aggie felt her resolve, the strength she had gained over the past few months, fall away. Old memories, old fears, old terrors twisted in her stomach.

  The music died away and an eerie silence fell over the room. Aggie could feel her heart pounding angrily against her chest.

  “Why is he h-here?” Aggie whispered. Old fears began to creep into her heart, causing her hands to tremble and her stutter to return. Sweat broke out across her brow and she felt frozen in place.

  It wasn’t until she felt Frederick’s protective hand on her shoulder that she found the will to breathe. Elsbeth reached under the table and quietly took Aggie’s hand in hers and gave it a comforting squeeze.

  “Aggie,” Frederick said under his breath. “All will be well.”

  His touch, his reassuring words, and his strong countenance were all the comfort she needed to will back the inner strength that had temporarily fled in Mermadak’s presence. With Frederick beside her, there was nothing she could not do.

  Squinting, Mermadak cast another disapproving look about the room. His eyes fell on the musicians who had been playing near the hearth. The men set down their instruments, picked up swords and went to stand at the front of the dais.

  Elegantly, or as elegantly as she could muster with shaky legs, Aggie stood. “Wh—” she could feel the stutter returning with a vengeance. She swallowed hard, took a fortifying breath and began again. “Why are ye here?” Her voice was loud, firm, and steady.

  Mermadak raise a brow and feigned hurt feelings. “Ye sound as though ye do no’ want me here.”

  “I don’t,” Aggie said.

  “Well, now, that be a problem. Considerin’ I be the chief of Clan McLaren.”

  Bile rose at the back of her throat. “Nay. Ye gave up that right when ye handed this keep and yer people and Frederick over to Eduard Bowie. Ye’ll no’ come back now to reclaim that which ye gave up. Frederick is the chief of this clan now.”

  That Aggie would stand up to him angered him to no end. Aggie could see the anger flash in his eyes. Frederick’s hand pressed against her shoulder ever so slightly. Whether he meant it to be a reminder that he was there for her or a warning to not go too far with Mermadak, she did not know. For now, she would assume it was the former.

  “Nay,” Mermadak said as he took one step forward. “I do no’ think so. Frederick canna be chief unless I make him chief or until me death.”

  Without flinching or thinking, Aggie unsheathed her dirk and held it out toward Mermadak. All around her, Mackintosh men unsheathed their swords and pointed them at the man. Aggie had only meant to unsheathe her dagger as a display of courage. She doubted she could truly kill the man, though, if pushed far enough …. “Yer death can be arranged this night, Mermadak!” Aggie seethed.

  Clair rushed forward to stand as a shield between Aggie and Mermadak. “Nay!” Clair cried out as she spread her arms wide as if she alone could protect her father from anyone and everyone in the room. “Do no’ harm him!”

  Aggie was as alarmed as she was surprised by Clair’s display. Sadly, Aggie realized she had not made enough progress in mending things with Clair.

  Mermadak laughed as he placed a hand on Clair’s shoulder. Looking at Aggie, he spoke. “Now, ye see, Aggie? This is how ye should behave toward me. Ye could learn much by followin’ me daughter’s example.”

  Clair’s eyes grew wide with stunned surprise as she turned to face Mermadak. “Are ye claimin’ me? In front of the clan? Are ye claimin’ me as yer daughter?” From the sound of her voice, Aggie could sense Clair’s doubt.

  Mermadak looked down at Clair. He smiled at her, with pride and adoration written all over his face. Not once in her four and twenty years on God’s earth, could Aggie ever remember him looking at her with such love. She felt n
either jealousy nor regret. Only a sense of unease and alarm.

  “After all ye’ve done?” Aggie asked with a tilt of her head. Her expression questioned his soundness of mind. “After all ye’ve done to me? To Ailrig? To yer people? To Frederick? Ye honestly expect me to come rushin’ into yer arms?”

  Mermadak’s fond smile toward Clair evaporated in an instant when he looked at Aggie. “Nay, I would no’ expect such a thing from ye. Fer ye are an ungrateful, disrespectful whore, just like yer mum!”

  A roar erupted as Mackintosh after Mackintosh unsheathed his sword and headed toward Mermadak. John had placed Ailrig in Elsbeth’s arms, withdrew his sword and bounded down the steps.

  Frederick shouted above the roar of the crowd as he too bounded down the steps. “Halt! Halt!”

  Ian and Findal raced to take Frederick’s place and guard Aggie.

  Mermadak McLaren, coward that he was, grabbed Clair and held her against his chest. Though she had stood between him and the others voluntarily just moments ago, she looked positively terrified now to be his proverbial shield. Eggar stepped forward, sword drawn, and pointed it at Mermadak. “Mermadak,” he seethed with fury. “Do no’ harm Clair.”

  Mermadak threw back his head and laughed. “Harm me daughter? I’d never do such a thing, Eggar.”

  No one who had ever met Mermadak could believe the words he just spoke. Aggie knew all too well how he could treat a daughter. For him to stand before these people, holding Clair as a shield and utter such words was laughable.

  FREDERICK WAS DOING his best to remain calm, despite the fury that raged within. He stopped just a few steps away from Mermadak and Clair. Coward, he thought. Were it not for the friendship he had forged with Eggar, Frederick would have been tempted to run his sword through Clair just to get to Mermadak. He paused only because he had never killed a woman before and he had no desire to start with his wife’s half-sister, even if the woman was as mean and spiteful as they came.

  “Mermadak, let Clair go to Eggar,” Frederick said calmly.

  Donnel had stepped forward and was leaning in to speak to Mermadak. “Mermadak, please, let Clair go.”

  Mermadak ignored both men. “Nay, I think no’. I’ve no’ much time left in this world, ye ken. I think I’d like to spend what few days I have left on this planet with me daughter.”

  Frederick watched as Clair closed her eyes. A tear trailed down her cheek. He could see her hands tremble. It was difficult to ascertain if she cried tears of fear or joy.

  “If ye let Clair go, ye have me word that no harm will come to ye, Mermadak. We all ken yer no’ long for this world. We’ll do our best to make certain yer last days are comfortable,” Frederick bargained. As comfortable as a dungeon can be ye bloody bastard.

  Mermadak had no weapon, at least none that Frederick could see. Still, he knew the man could not be trusted. Giving a quick assessment of the situation, a dozen scenarios played out in his mind. He would not put it past Mermadak to throw Clair aside or plunge her forward onto one of the many swords pointed at him. How far, he also wondered, would Donnel go to protect Mermadak?

  “Mermadak,” Donnel whispered again. “We must get away from this place. Let Clair go.”

  “Ye need to listen to yer man, Mermadak,” Frederick said. “Fer once, he’s showin’ some level of intelligence.”

  Donnel shot Frederick a hateful glare. Gently, he grabbed Mermadak’s arm. “Come, now.”

  Mermadak shrugged away Donnel’s hand. “Get away from me, ye eejit! I’m no’ done yet.”

  “Mermadak, I’ll no’ stay here and die with ye,” Donnel warned.

  “Then be gone with ye, ye coward!” Mermadak spat before a coughing spasm hit him. He clung tightly to Clair as he coughed and broke out into a sweat.

  Donnel began slowly walking backward, shaking his head. However, he did not get far before four Mackintosh men stopped him. He still had crimes of his own to answer to.

  While Mackintosh men were taking control of Donnel, Frederick stepped forward. He sheathed his sword and began to pry Mermadak’s hands away from Clair.

  “Please, do no’ hurt him,” Clair whispered her plea.

  There was no time for Frederick to try to gain an understanding as to why Clair held such a strong fondness for this awful, cruel man. “Clair, go to Eggar,” Frederick whispered as he wrenched her free. “’Tis over, Clair,” he tried to sound firm yet understanding.

  Eggar stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his wife. She turned into a sobbing heap as she fell into his arms.

  “Mermadak,” Frederick said calmly as he watched the man try to get his breathing under control. It was a sad sight to behold. This man could have been and done so many good things. Instead, for some reason Frederick could not understand, he had chosen a darker path. “’Tis over. Let us get ye to a room and have Mrs. McCurdy take a look at ye.” Frederick was attempting to keep the auld man calm, just long enough to get him out of the gathering room and into the dungeon.

  As Frederick extended and arm to help the auld man, Mermadak shouted, “‘Tisn’t over until I say it’s over!”

  Frederick was about to knock the man on his arse when he heard Aggie’s voice cry out from behind him.

  “Fire!”

  BEFORE FREDERICK COULD make any sense of what was happening, smoke began to billow into the gathering room. He spun around in search of Aggie, when he saw the flames licking at the rafters over her head.

  Fear and fire erupted all around them. People began shouting as they pushed to get out of the room. In the confusion that followed, Frederick had forgotten all about Mermadak or Donnel. His only concern was for the safety of his family and his people.

  “Aggie!” he shouted over the din of shouts and scraping tables and chairs. “Aggie!”

  The flames spread quickly along the beams and ceiling. Frederick continued to search for Aggie as the fear of losing her loomed large in his heart. Finally, he spotted her with his father and Elsbeth who were trying to make their way out of the gathering room. He also caught sight of Ailrig’s dark locks and the fear in the little boy’s eyes as they fought to get out.

  A mad rush for the doors ensued with people shouting, pushing, and cursing. Frederick grabbed two of his men as they raced past. “Once ye are out, get every bucket ye can and begin a water brigade!” They nodded their understanding as they made their way out.

  “Walk quickly!” Frederick shouted above the roar. “Do no’ push!” Any hope for a calm exit was impossible. The room was quickly filling with smoke as people fought to breathe and to leave.

  Someone pulled back the furs that covered the windows as another means of escape. The rush of air into the room gave more life and energy to the fire. Smoke billowed in from the hallway near the kitchens and that was when Frederick realized the fire was no accident. With the flames and smoke coming in from both ends of the gathering room, he knew the fire had been intentionally set.

  Mermadak.

  PEOPLE SPILLED OUT into the yards, coughing and crying, pushing their way through, around and over one another, to get to fresh air. By the time Aggie, John, Elsbeth and Ailrig had made their way out of doors, they were covered in smoke and soot. Their eyes watered and their lungs burned as they stumbled forward as far away from the keep as they could get.

  Men shouted orders and soon a line was being formed from the well and toward the keep. Buckets were filled and passed forward. The air around them was hot and thick as still more people fought their way out of the keep.

  The fire grew, cracking loudly, roaring over the sounds of people crying out for loved ones. The wind whipped all around them, hot, intense, unfathomable. Aggie held onto Ailrig’s hand, covering her face with the hem of her skirt to help block out the smoke as they made their way to the outer wall.

  Once they were a safe distance from the keep, Aggie began searching for Frederick. Please, please do no’ let me lose him! She screamed her prayer over and over in her mind.

  Elsbeth was stan
ding beside her, screaming out her children’s names. The children had been sitting together at one of the lower tables when the fire broke out. “Margaret! Seamus! Comnell! Andrew!” she shouted their names over and over again, her voice growing hoarse from the smoke as well as screaming for her children.

  For Aggie, the world stopped spinning and she was overcome with nausea. The thought of losing any of these people, especially innocent children, sickened her. In her heart of hearts she knew Mermadak was responsible for this. At the moment she had no proof, but she didn’t need any. She turned away, let go of Ailrig’s hand and retched.

  Forty-Six

  “MUM!” MARGARET CALLED out as she and her brothers raced for Elsbeth. They collapsed in a heap on the ground, Elsbeth pulling them all into her arms, thanking God that they were safe.

  Aggie could barely hear them over the roar and din of the chaos taking place around them. Though she was truly relieved to see the children were safe, her heart ached with fear for her husband. Wiping her face with her dirty sleeve, she fought back another wave of nausea. With one hand against the cold stone wall, she leaned over and retched a second time. The worry over Frederick’s safety was unbearable.

  “Mum,” Ailrig said as he placed a hand on her back. “Are ye well?”

  Aggie could not answer. She took in deep breaths of air and nodded her head, but in truth, she was in agony.

  From behind her, someone called out her name. “Aggie!”

  She spun around to catch sight of Frederick and John running her way. Aggie ran to Frederick and threw herself in his arms. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she fought to catch her breath.

  “Are ye well?” he asked as he set her on her feet.

  “Aye,” she said, choking on a sob. “I was so worried fer ye!”

  He kissed her on her forehead as his eyes scanned the people surrounding him. Ian came rushing up to them, his face filled with dread. “Rose? Have ye seen Rose?”