A Gentle Feuding

by Johanna Lindsey

  He lay down on the bed but couldn’t rest.

  “I’ll no’ stand for this, Sheena.”

  “What?” She turned to face him, and he sat up. “This anger ‘atween us. This room is no place for it.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “This room is the only place for it!” she hissed. “Or would you rather I be telling you what I think of you in front of your kin?”

  “Tell me now and get it over with,” he said;‑brac­ing himself.

  “You’re a coward!” she cried. “You didna dare pass fair judgment for fear your kin would cry favor­itism on my behalf. You couldna bear that, to be ac­cused of being partial to your wife. So you did what was wrong in order to save yourself that!”

  “I didna do wrong, and partiality had naught to do with it, Sheena.”

  “For me, nay, but for Black Gawain it did. You canna tell me otherwise.”

  “Would you rather have seen your kin forced to arms?” he asked. “The atmosphere was too heated, Sheena. My kin would never have stood for a judg­ment against Black Gawain. Why should they? They believed him. They would never have considered the word of a Fergusson, two Fergussons, a dozen, no’ over a MacKinnion. Too many years of hatred have made it so. They believed Gawain.”

  “Nay!” she cried. “If you had waited till lain re­covered, you’d have seen his story would be the same as my kinsman’s‑without lain’s having heard it. That would have been proof. You could have waited, Jamie.”

  “It is done. I canna bemoan it now.”

  “You could,” she said bitterly. “But you willna be­cause you dinna care.”

  “Och, Sheena, it wouldna make any difference to change my mind. Can you no’ see that? All that mat­ters is further bloodshed.”

  “I see only that my father will never forgive you for the injustice you dealt my clan.”

  “I saved them any more fighting!” he returned sharply. “Is that injustice?”

  “So a Fergusson is never to be dealt with fairly? Is that what you’re telling me, Jamie?”

  “Sheena, ‘twill all take time. The feud is over, it ended when h made you my wife. I’ll no’ be starting it again, no matter what. In time, old grudges will be forgotten. We’ll even visit your father and make it right with him. It will just take time.”

  “And what of Black Gawain?” she demanded. “Is he to get away with what he did?”

  His face was set in a hard line. “I’ve no’ said I agree with you that he’s guilty.”

  “But he is!”

  “Then if he is, I’ll deal with him in my own way!” Jamie replied in exasperation.

  “Will you? Or will you just forget about it once you think I have?”

  Jamie sighed. “You have to understand about Ga­wain, Sheena. His sister was killed in the spring, when your father saw fit to resume the feud. Gawain was‑“

  “What?” She cut him short. “We didna begin the raiding again. You did!”

  “Och, Sheena, no more lies.”

  Jamie watched the play of emotions cross her face, from hurt, gone quickly, to anger, there to stay. He became incensed. Why was she holding on to that ri­diculous claim? Was she really so ignorant of her fa­ther’s treachery?

  Her blue eyes flashed dangerously, and she began to speak, but he stopped her.

  “Enough is enough, Sheena,” Jamie warned darkly.

  “Enough? Aye, and ‘tis I who’ve had enough of you!” she cried.

  Swinging his legs off the bed, he reached for her, but anger gave her the strength to jerk away. He reached for her again, and her temper exploded, knowing how futile would be her efforts to fight him off. While she had the chance, she slapped him with all the strength she had. Even when Jamie raised his hand to hit her back she regretted nothing.

  But he didn’t strike her. Her eyes were shooting great sapphire‑blue sparks at him, daring him, yet he couldn’t.

  “Why do you hesitate?” she demanded, her voice a whip. “I dinna fear you anymore, Jamie. You couldna hurt me more than you already have.”

  “I canna hit you.”

  “Why not?”

  His chest ached as if pressed by a great weight. “Because I think it would hurt me more than you,” he said, furious with himself for feeling that way. “Now why is that?”

  She didn’t know. Her throat constricted tightly, and she didn’t understand that either. And then he was kissing her, crushing her in a powerful embrace, and she understood at last.

  No sooner had the kiss begun than there was ham­mering at the door. Jamie broke away and wrapped himself in his plaid before bellowing, “Enter!” After the irascible welcome, the entering was most hesi­tant.

  Sheena sank down on the bed, dazed. She was amazed to feel her anger vanquished by the simple touch of Jamie’s lips. How was that possible?

  “I didna want to be disturbing you, but ‘twas nec­essary,” Colen was saying to Jamie.

  The portentous tone drew Sheen’s full attention.

  “Be done with it, lad,” Jamie prompted when he saw Colen’s hesitation.

  “There’s been a raid, Jamie. Hamish and Jock were wounded, and it doesna look as if Hamish will recover.”

  Jamie’s face turned to stone. “How many livestock lifted?”

  “None. All were killed, and the croft fired.”

  Sheena drew her breath in sharply as Jamie’s eyes pierced her. She knew what conclusion he had drawn.

  “Nay!” she cried, coming off the bed to stand be­fore him. “Nay, he wouldna have done that.”

  “But he did,” Jamie said. “ ‘Tis the same as in the spring‑no’ a common raid, but slaughter and per­verse destruction. And I let it happen. I didna think he would have the effrontery to exact revenge for what happened today, so I put no extra guards around.”

  “But you’re wrong, Jamie!”

  He turned to Colen again. “How many in the at­tack?”

  “Jock swears to at least half a dozen.”

  “Did he see them well?”

  There was a lengthy silence before Colen mum­bled, “Well enough.”

  “Then tell my wife, if you will, the colors they wore,” Jamie commanded.

  Her eyes pleaded with Colen, but he could not lie. “I’m sorry, lass, but the colors were indeed your fa­ther’s. I wish I could tell you different.”

  She looked at the two of them, Colen doleful, Jamie holding on to his emotions tightly.

  “Your kinsman was mistaken!” she raged at them. “And you’re detestable, both of you, to think otherwise!”

  “Leave us and ready my horse!” Jamie ordered Colen.

  “You canna do this, Jamie. You canna ride against my clan!” she shouted at him.

  “You are presuming to know my intention,” he re­plied harshly, turning to dress.

  “I suppose you feel your father was justified?” he asked her after a silence.

  “I didna say that. But put yourself in his place. If my father hadna given you justice where it was de­serving, would you have sought justice on your own?” He glared at her, and she added bitterly, “You would have, and you know it. But my father canna afford to, and you know that, too. He wanted no more of this feud. He did everything he could to protect himself against it.”

  “You forget the alliances he’s made through your sisters. They were all wed soon after you were ban­ished, I was told. Your father may feel he now has the strength to continue the feud against me.”

  “Then why did he give me to you as wife?”

  “I forced him to it!”

  “Did you?” she shouted. “Then what of the strength you say he has now? If he is so powerful that he can fight you now, Jamie, then he would have fought you then. Instead, he agreed. And he ar­gued till he was blue in the face to get me to agree. I wish to God I had defied him!”

  “I’m beginning to wish you had, too!” Jamie re­torted furiously, before storming out of the room.

  Chapter 32

  SHEENA woke the next morning to find herself
alone. She pulled herself up to a sitting position, but she didn’t have the will to do any more than that. She just sat there. Her eyes hurt, for she had cried herself to sleep. Her whole body seemed to hurt from the terrible sobs that had racked her.

  A pointless thing, crying. It didn’t change anything. And it certainly didn’t make her feel better.

  She stared out the window at the dismal sky, dark with clouds. Morning, and Jamie not returned. So he had gone to Angusshire. It was daylight now. The MacKinnion always struck in daylight. Was he attacking Tower Esk at that very moment?

  A horrible image of a bloody battle came to mind, and she shook her head against it. But the image would not go away, and she began to hear screams and cries as well. Her father’s. Niall’s.

  Her hands covered her ears, and she leaped off the bed and paced furiously to drive the image away. She couldn’t stand not knowing what was happening at home. And if the agony of wondering was not terrible enough, she would have to be waiting when Jamie returned, his hands bloody. She would have to face him, knowing what he’d done to her family.

  She wouldn’t! She would leave while he was gone. No one would dare stop her this time. She was The MacKinnion’s wife. She would take a horse and be well away before he returned.

  But where would she go? She couldn’t ride straight for home and risk coming upon Jamie. She would go to Aberdeen and her Aunt Erminia. That was better. Together they would find out if she still had a home to return to, and a family.

  She opened the door but stopped short, finding the servant Gertie there, about to knock.

  “I’ve brought yer things, lass,” Gertie explained as she entered. “I thought yer might like to be changing ‘afore yer come down to greet the guests.”

  “Guests?”

  “Aye, they’ve been arriving all morning,” Gertie said as she laid the gowns on the still‑rumpled bed, tsk, tsking as she did so. “Did yer only just awake, lass? ‘Tis late, you know.”

  Sheena frowned. “How late?”

  “Och, nearly noon it is. We were beginning to wonder if yer’d be coming down or no’. Doris was saying as how yer might be ‘afeared to, after what happened. But I told her yer’ve more spunk than that. It wasna yer doing, what happened.”

  Wasn’t it? Sheena thought ruefully. If Jamie hadn’t wanted her so badly, would he have kept her at Castle Kinnion? Would he have wed her? There would have been no wedding, and no “accident,” as Jamie called it. Her father would be safe at Tower Esk, and she would have been returned to Aberdeen. Perhaps she might not have been whisked away by Colen in the first place. It was all her fault, the fault of her looks. Her beauty had always been a cursewould it always be so?

  But here was a kindly soul who didn’t blame her, even though she blamed herself.

  “Will yer be wearing this lovely blue gown, lass? It do bring out the color of yer hair, making it glow as if ‘twere on fire.”

  Sheena looked at the gowns, Lydia’s lovely ones and her own threadbare one. “I’ll wear the green.” It was her own.

  Gertie’s look registered her disapproval. “As yer wish,” she said tightly. “But if yer dinna mind my saying so, yer should be telling the laird ‘tis high time he was seeing to yer needs. ‘Tis no’ as if he doesna hae cloth to spare and wouldna give it gladly.”

  “ ‘Tis no’ for me to be asking,” Sheena said.

  “Och, now, who has more right than yerself, eh?” Gertie clucked. “ ‘Tis his wife yer are, or hae yer forgotten that sae soon?”

  “I didna forget.”

  Gertie didn’t hear, or chose to ignore, the bitterness in Sheena’s voice. “Well, then, yer must be dressing as befits the wife of a Highland laird. Great beastie that he is, Sir Jamie doesna ken the needs of a wife. Yer could start by insisting he send for yer own lovely things. I’m sure yer father would no’ begrudge yer, even after what’s happened.”

  “I’d rather no’ be discussing this right now, Gertie, if you dinna mind.”

  “Of course, lassie. I’ll be going.”

  “Gertie, wait.” Sheena stopped her. “You said there are guests?”

  “Aye, there are indeed. Keiths and MacDonoughs hae arrived, and Gregorys and Martins will nae doubt come ‘afore the end of the day.”

  Sheena turned sickly pale. Those were clans aligned with the MacKinnions, clans Jamie could call on for war. So he had not attacked yet, but was instead planning a full‑scale slaughter! Why else would he send for all those clans?

  “What is amiss, lass?” Gertie asked worriedly.

  “He . . . he’s brought them all here to . . .” She stopped herself from going too far.

  Gertie clucked again, misunderstanding Sheena’s distress. “Och, you’ve naught to fear meeting friends of the MacKinnions. Why, Thais is sae eager to meet yer, ‘twas she who sent me up here to see how soon yer’d be coming down.”

  “Thais?”

  “Sir Jamie’s younger sister,” Gertie explained. “Fair fashed she was wi’ him, too, for no’ waiting till she and her husband arrived.”

  Sheena was going to be wretchedly sick. Not waiting? So he had attacked after all!

  “Och, what did I say, lass?” Gertie was at her side in an instant. “Yer wait right here, and I’ll be getting Sir Jamie.”

  “He’s here?”

  “Where else would he be, wi’ sae many wedding guests to attend?”

  “Wedding. . .” Sheena was beside herself with relief. “Why did you no’ say so, Gertie? I thought the guests were. . .”

  “Och, the celebrating will go on for days. Sir Jamie didna tell yer he’s invited one and all to meet his new bride?”

  “Nay. After yesterday. . .”

  “Dinna fash yerself about yesterday, lassie,” Gertie said firmly. “Sir Jamie’s no’ going to let it spoil the wedding, and neither should yerself.”

  “When did Jamie return?”

  “He didna leave the castle, except to see what could be done for Jock and Hamish. He wasna gone long.”

  “Did . . . Hamish . . . ?”

  Gertie patted her shoulder. “He’s holding his own, bless him. He may recover. Now are yer sure about the green gown?”

  “I’ll wear the blue after all,” Sheena conceded absentmindedly.

  She had to talk to Jamie. This was a reprieve, but maybe only because so many guests had been invited and he could hardly turn them away. But when they left? She had to know what Jamie meant to do.

  Chapter 33

  JAMIE took a swig of ale, bracing himself against the turn in the conversation to his right. Colen and Alasdair MacDonough had warmed to their subject, and Jamie started to interrupt, but too late. At Colen’s prodding, Alasdair admitted why he had broken his betrothal to Sheena. Colen’s face reflected disbelief, then understanding, and finally humor. When Colen burst out laughing, it was more than Jamie could bear.

  “I’m thinking you’ve said enough, MacDonough.” Jamie’s tone was sharp, surprising the older man.

  “Och, Jamie, you dinna mean to say you’ve told no one of that time, not even your brother?”

  “Never mind,” Colen interjected. “I’m wanting to hear more of Jamie’s stay at Tower Esk.”

  “Nay, lad, you’ll have to hear that from your brother,” Alasdair replied uncomfortably.

  “Well, Jamie?”

  Jamie was scowling. As if enough wasn’t going wrong with his life, he also had to contend with his brother’s humor.

  “There’s nothing to tell, Colen. I met with Fergusson hospitality is all. Leave it be.”

  “In their dungeon?” Colen grinned. “And needing a lass to help you escape?”

  Jamie’s mien got even darker. “ ‘Twas only fitting she aid me, since ‘twas her fault I was there to begin with.”

  “But to end up in a Fergusson dungeon, Jamie?” Colen shook his head mockingly. “You must have been badly smitten even then, to play the fool so well.”

  Jamie nearly exploded, but his brother‑in‑law Ranald Keith had ov
erheard and clapped him on the back. “What is this about a Fergusson dungeon, lad? Is that where you met your bride, then?”

  Jamie glared at his brother. He quickly told the humiliating story, except for the part Niall had played, for he was still obliged to protect the lad. More humor was had at his expense, Colen delighting in all of it.

  “She risked a great deal to avoid marriage to you, Jamie,” Ranald said thoughtfully. “And yet she’s wed to you after all. ‘Tis no wonder the poor lass willna come down to celebrate her wedding.”

  “I wouldna call her a poor lass, Ranald Keith.” Thais stuck up for her brother. “She’s lucky to be having a man as fine as Jamie.”

  “So you think,” Ranald retorted to his wife. “But what does she think, eh?”

  “Aye, Jamie,” Colen asked, serious then. “What does she think‑now?”

  Jamie sighed. “I could’ve sworn you werena going to hold a grudge, Colen. Are you still bitter over losing her?”

  “No’ bitter, Jamie,” Colen replied. “But I did warn you no’ to hurt her.”

  “And you think I have?”

  “What happiness has she had since she wed you?”

  Jamie smiled ruefully, remembering. “I’d like to think she had some, if only for a little while.”

  Colen reddened, understanding perfectly. “That is no’ the answer to happiness, Jamie. She needs peace of mind. Can you give her that now, after all that’s happened?”

  “Och, now, listen to you two.” Daphne came up behind Jamie and put her arms around his neck. “My two brothers fighting, and they canna even blame drink, early as it is. What is this fighting about? Tell me.”

  “I do believe the reason has decided to join us,” Ranald said.

  Across the hall, Sheena was making her way toward them, regal in her royal blue silk gown, with her hair swept back, the long tresses curling to her waist. Jamie’s chest puffed with pride.

  “Och, Jamie, you said she was a bonny lass, but you didna say she was the most bonny lass in all of Scotland,” Ranald breathed in awe.