A few seconds later, a lock rattled and rasped, then the small door to the side of the main gate opened to show the head of a beautiful woman only a year or two older than Maggie. The MacDouglas lairdess looked like an angel, with her golden hair braided and wrapped about her head. The black and blue plaid she wore brought out the creaminess of her pale skin and made her blue eyes glow.
“Maggie, is that you?” Ceana MacDouglas asked.
“Aye,” Maggie said. “May we come in?”
“Aye,” Ceana said, then she stepped back into the safety of the bailey.
A woman of about two score, holding her broom like a sword, opened the door only enough to admit Maggie and her escorts, and as soon as they were through it, she slammed it shut and locked it.
Ceana stepped forward and took Maggie’s hand in her own. Her cheeks were bright and her eyes shone with happiness. “Is it over?” she asked.
Maggie shook her head. “Nay, it has gotten worse. The men of my clan are ready to kill our laird if he doesn’t settle this, and he refuses to settle unless your husband ceases to demand the life of his brother.”
The lairdess dropped Maggie’s hand and all the happiness fled from her face. “Oh, Sweet Mother Mary,” Ceana breathed. “What are we to do, then?”
“I don’t know,” Maggie whispered. “I’m sick of the bloodshed, but I’m afraid the men have us this time.”
“My lady?” Braden asked, drawing their attention to him. “Do you know of anything that can make your husband give up this feud?”
Ceana’s face turned cold and angry. “Nay. He loved that she-devil to the exclusion of everything else.”
“Then why did he marry you?” Maggie asked, then quickly regretted the bluntness of her question.
However, Ceana didn’t seem the least bit taken aback by it. And when she answered, her voice was completely devoid of emotions. “For my money, and because his own mother insisted he take a wife.”
“His mother?” Braden asked. “Is she here?”
“I’m standing right behind you, you whelp, with a broom to break across your hide if you make one move on any of us.” She raked a look over him. “And don’t you be thinking I’m so old that I don’t remember what a young buck like you has on his mind.”
Braden turned slowly to see the woman who had let them inside.
Agnes MacDouglas looked young for her age. Her strawberry blond hair held only the faintest traces of gray in it, and her blue eyes were searing in their intensity and filled with the vitality of a woman half her age.
She placed the broom handle on the ground and held it like a soldier would a spear as she placed her left hand on her hip and narrowed a probing stare at him. “I told my Robby-boy that woman was a snake when I first saw her and that wandering eye she had. I knew she was no good. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He just had to have her, regardless of my warnings.”
Maggie stepped forward. “Is there anything that could make him—”
Agnes shook her head before she finished. “She poisoned my babe with those practiced pouts.”
Ceana’s face turned to stone. “And now I carry his bairn and I will not give birth to this child until my husband stops pining for that she-devil!”
Sin snorted. “Should I point out, milady, that I doubt you’ll have a choice as to when you birth your child?”
Ceana cast him a withering glare.
Sin just smiled in response.
“Wait!” Maggie said, interrupting them. “I think I have a plan.”
Braden shivered at her words. God help them now, for he knew only too well about Maggie and her plans.
If he had any sense at all, he’d head back to England with Sin in tow.
He glanced around at the women surrounding them. All eyes were trained on Maggie, and his gut drew even tighter. They were actually going to listen to her.
Of course they are. They don’t know what they’re in for.
But he did.
“My brother Anghus used to have a saying,” Maggie told them. “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”
The hair on the back of Braden’s neck rose, and some inner premonition warned him to grab her and run back home as fast as his legs could carry him.
But damn fool he, he didn’t move.
“Well,” Maggie continued, “I think I know a way to show Robby MacDouglas exactly what he has, and to see if it means anything to him.”
Chapter 17
Once the plans had been made for the following day, Agnes and Ceana led Maggie, Braden and Sin into the castle to feed them and to finalize their preparations. Maggie stayed only long enough to make sure everything would be ready, and then her nerves got the better of her.
Unlike the men, she didn’t feel like eating. Not when her stomach was tied into so many knots, and so many doubts plagued her.
She needed a breath of fresh air and some time alone to think. Time alone where no one could see the numerous uncertainties that shredded her confidence and left her vulnerable and scared.
Heading out of the donjon, Maggie paused at the top of the stairs to glance about the bailey. Rushlights had been lit, and the women along the parapets had ceased their taunting of the men in order to eat their suppers and gossip with each other.
None of them paid her any heed as she descended the steps, then walked aimlessly around the dark yard.
What have I gotten myself into now? Maggie wondered.
True, the three of them were still alive, but there was a lot more to do before she would feel victorious. After all, everything hinged on the fact that the MacDouglas would care if something happened to his wife.
If he didn’t…
Maggie trembled, then pulled her plaid shawl tighter around her shoulders.
As she rounded the side of the keep, a shadow drew her attention. She paused and turned her head to look at it.
At first she thought she might be seeing things, but the faint outline of a body was all too clear. Someone was skulking about, and unless her instincts were wrong, the shadowy figure was watching her.
Frowning, she took a step forward to peer a little more closely at her specter. The shadow stepped back, away from the moonlight and her ability to see it clearly. Maggie felt a moment’s reservation, but the shadow didn’t look very large or dangerous.
Ultimately, her curiosity overrode her trepidation.
Determined to learn who was watching her and why, Maggie closed in on the figure, only to find a lad of about seven years shirking away from her.
His face panicked, he glanced about for a way to escape.
“It’s all right,” Maggie said gently, relieved to find the lad and not a man bent on mischief.
No doubt the boy was only hungry and searching for food, or his mother. “I mean you no harm.”
She still couldn’t see his features plainly, but she could see the basic contours of a thin, narrow face. For several seconds, she stood completely still as he sized her up. By the shadowy curl of his lip, she could tell he found her lacking in some way.
“Are you that MacAllister lass?” he asked tentatively. “I was told ya had short hair.”
“Aye, I am she.”
Maggie heard his sigh of relief. And too late she remembered Robby MacDouglas’s words about her head. And the value of it brought to him on a pike. Could the boy possibly be after that?
It seemed unlikely, but why else would he want to find her?
“And who are you?” she asked.
“Me name’s Connor.”
Maggie smiled. How sweet, it was the same name as Braden’s horse. “And what is it you want with me, Connor?”
The boy stepped into the bright circle of moonlight to where Maggie could finally see him.
Her breath caught in her throat, for never had she seen a more perfect duplication of Braden. The lad’s black hair was wild and in need of a trim. His long, lanky frame needed steady meals, but those eyes…
She’d know those green
ish brown eyes anywhere. But whereas Braden’s were teasing and bright, the boy’s were hard and jaded. Angry and harsh.
“I want you to take me home,” he said.
Maggie’s chest drew even tighter at the boy’s request.
“Home?” she asked, praying it was all a coincidence. Perhaps he was a distant cousin to Braden. Perhaps one of the MacDouglases had kidnapped him thinking to use him against one of the other MacAllister clansmen.
Her mind grasped at any explanation other than the most obvious one.
“Aye,” Connor said. “I’m one of their bastards. Me mother told me my da was a MacAllister and I want to go to their castle to meet my family.”
Maggie’s head swam at the confirmation of her worst fear. Braden had a son. One who had been seriously neglected, by the looks of him.
In that moment, she wanted to storm into the castle and ring the man’s neck. How dare Braden take no responsibility for his actions!
Oh, just you wait, Braden, she thought. I’m going to get you for this.
“And where’s your mother?” she asked.
Connor looked away and his eyes turned even angrier than before. “She died two summers back. I was staying with her sister, but she said she don’t want no bastard who can’t do what he’s told. I was thinking since you were here that if I paid you, you’d take me back with you.”
Connor moved forward then and held his little frail hand out to show her a glass bead, a shiny rock and a piece of charred, twisted silver that defied her abilities to identify it.
“I know it’s not much,” he said, “but it’s all I got. If you take me home to them, you can have all of it, and I swear I’ll find work and pay ya proper for putting up with me.”
Tears gathered in her eyes as she stared at his extended hand.
How could anyone be so cold as to turn such a dear child out? And it was obvious he was a good lad. In spite of the anger in him, he was being respectful and honest.
Maggie knelt down by him and looked at his offering. “What fine treasure you have there.”
He nodded solemnly as he fingered the glass bead. “This was in my mother’s pin. It fell out and I was going to fix it for her, but she died before I could earn enough money to pay the smith to repair it.”
Next he went to the rock. “This I took from outside our cottage when I was a little boy and they told me I couldn’t live there anymore.”
And lastly, he touched the silver piece. “That was the ring me father gave me mother. Me uncle tried to melt it down, but I grabbed it out of the fire when he wasn’t looking and hid it.”
He extended his hand to her and offered her all he had in the world.
Swallowing back tears, Maggie took his hand in both of hers and closed his hand over his payment. “This is far too valuable for me to take.”
He looked confused.
She pulled the plaid shawl off her shoulders and wrapped it around him. “You don’t have to pay me, Connor. I would be honored to take you away from here.”
Happiness flared in his eyes for a full second before suspicion clouded his gaze. “What do you want from me, then?”
“Nothing.”
He scoffed at her. “People don’t do nice things for nothing. They all want something.”
Goodness, but the boy sounded so much like Sin that it gave her chills. Just what had he experienced, to make him so distrustful at such a young age?
Reaching up, Maggie brushed a stray lock of ebony hair from his forehead, then cupped his cool cheek. “Not all people are like that.”
Still, he looked suspicious.
Maggie rose and reached out to take his hand. “Have you eaten anything?”
Connor hesitated before he finally placed his hand in hers. “The women won’t let me eat anything ’cause I’m a man.”
She tightened her grip on his hand as they walked across the yard. The lad was far from a man, even though he acted as if he were ancient.
Oh, if she ever laid hands on his aunt and uncle, she’d give them both a sound tongue-lashing! How could anyone be so cruel when it was obvious the boy had a good heart?
“Come with me,” she said gently, “and I’ll see you fed.”
Connor stopped dead in his tracks as she led him toward the castle.
“Nay,” he said. “If me aunt sees me, she’ll beat me for sure.”
Let her try! In the mood Maggie was in, she was sure the woman stood no chance whatsoever. But it was obvious the boy had seen enough violence in his life.
What he needed now was protection, and she would keep him safe no matter what.
“Then I’ll make sure she doesn’t see you.”
Maggie kept his icy hand inside hers as she changed directions and led him behind the castle and up the back stairs to the small room Ceana had given her for the night.
It was a very cool evening to be out, and poor Connor was barefoot and dressed in a tan and blue plaid that should have been tossed out as a rag.
It defied Maggie’s best abilities to imagine the callousness of his aunt and uncle. She could never treat a child like this, and most especially not one related to her.
Maggie opened the door to her room. “Connor, did your mother ever tell your father about you?” she asked as she moved into the room to light the tallow candles on the small table before the fire.
He paused just inside the doorway.
Maggie watched as his eyes widened, then darted about the room to take in the glowing fire, large bed, small table and chair and warm furs. He blinked as if unable to believe she was allowing him into such luxury.
He quickly headed to the fire and stretched his little hands out toward it, seeking the warmth. “She said she went to him to tell him about me, but when she got to his castle, she saw him there with a beautiful lass.”
Connor leaned toward her ever so slightly, and spoke his next words in a hushed whisper as if betraying some sort of secret. “She said they were kissing.”
He straightened then, and recited the rest as if his mother had drilled it into his mind a thousand times over. “She said she knew then that all the words he’d said about loving her were false. She said all men were false and lowly, and that if God were truly merciful, I would have been born a daughter to her and not another man sent to break her heart.”
Maggie’s own heart lurched at his words, words he spoke with calm, quiet acceptance.
Unable to stand it, Maggie fell to her knees and drew the boy into a tight hug. At first he tensed and fought her hold, but she tightened her grip. She refused to let him go. The child needed love. He needed a hug, and she would not let another minute pass without giving it to him.
Then, to her surprise, he tentatively wrapped his thin, frail arms about her and laid his little head down on her shoulder.
“You know, Connor, God is merciful, and it is a wondrous thing to be born a son.”
He said nothing, but she could feel his hot tears against her neck.
She cradled his head in her hand and just held him as tightly as she could as she rocked him slowly in her arms.
In that moment, Maggie knew what she would have done in Aisleen’s place. She could never have let Sin stand by himself, let alone be taken by his father’s enemies. Any more than she could let this child suffer another day.
She didn’t know how Braden would react to Connor’s presence, but she knew what she needed to do.
“You know, Connor,” she whispered as she rocked him, “if you don’t want to stay with your family, I share a small farm with my sister-in-law, Kate. She has two wee bairns, a boy and a girl. I was thinking they might need a cousin to help keep watch over them.”
He tilted his head back to frown at her.
Maggie smiled and brushed his hair off his face, then placed a hand to his soft cheek as she told him plainly what she meant. “I was thinking that if you prefer, you could come live with us.”
His frown turned to disbelief, then his eyes sparkled. “I would have
a family?”
Maggie nodded. “Aye. One that wanted you, and you would have a mother who loves you. Not to mention one who makes the best elderberry tarts you’ve ever tasted.”
For the first time, she saw him smile. Her eyes misting again, she reached up and touched the deep dimples that punctuated the gesture.
“I promise I’ll be a good lad and only eat what you give me. I won’t ask for any more, ever.”
“You can eat as much as you can hold.”
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Wahoo!” he shouted, then he quickly cringed and placed a hand over his mouth as he glanced about furtively. “I’m sorry about that.”
“I don’t mind noise,” Maggie said. “I was raised with six boys and they were always shouting and screaming.”
She rose to her feet and ruffled his hair with her hand. “You wait here and I’ll bring you some food.”
Again that mistrust came into his eyes, but he said nothing as she left him.
A myriad of emotions whipped through her as she descended the stairs and quickly gathered a tray of food, telling the servants that she wanted to eat alone. No one questioned her.
Once Maggie had enough to fill Connor’s belly, she headed back to him, cursing his callous family with every step she took.
Why hadn’t Connor’s mother told Braden anyway?
Maggie didn’t know for sure, but she suspected Braden would have gladly taken the boy in. And even if he hadn’t, Lochlan most assuredly would.
Don’t judge his mother, Maggie, she told herself. ’Tis for God alone to do.
But it was hard not to.
In fact, at that moment, she didn’t know whom she wanted to thrash more, Connor’s mother or Braden.
Laying the matter aside for the moment, she pushed open the door to her room to see Connor sitting on the bed. He jumped off as if terrified she would scold him, and when he saw the food in her hands, he wahooed again.
Maggie placed the tray on the small table by the fire and watched in delight as he crammed roasted beef, carrots, peas, onions and apples into his mouth.
Once he finished eating, she tucked him into her bed and left him there to dream of better days to come.
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