The Seventh Son

by Ashley York

  Malcolm smiled, a satisfied smile. Clearly he was in agreement with his wife over Gerrit’s punishment. “Aye. ‘Twill be so here as well. When will a new chieftain be named?”

  “He has been named.”

  “By whom?”

  “Aodh’s widow and the clan accepted her will. Lilith’s brother, Br—”

  “Brian! Ah, a good and fair man.” Malcolm placed an arm around his wife. “He will see that all crimes are punished.”

  “And that way, chaos will not ensue,” Caireann said, her grasp of the situation was a good one.

  Malcolm gave a heavy sigh. “But I have a sad message that I must bring to Aoife.”

  “Oh!” Caireann’s eyes did fill this time. “Ye must tell Aoife that her son is dead?”

  “Ye ken Aoife?” Tisa asked.

  “I do now.” Caireann’s lips curled into a mischievous grin that Tisa had never witnessed on her friend before. “I have met all the outcasts.”

  In the next moment, Caireann’s face lit up, her mouth rounding with a small gasp. “Malcolm! Mayhap they will no longer be outcasts? Was it not Aodh himself that wanted them separate from the rest? And he is dead.”

  “Did Brian believe the same as Aodh?” Tisa asked.

  “He does not.” Malcolm’s chest expanded. “Brian and his father were kind, generous men. Lilith as well. It was not until Aodh became chieftain that the clan became so brutal.”

  “Will there be some who wish to remain brutal? Or will they willingly change their ways?” Tisa feared his answer.

  “Those who dunna wish to change their ways will become the outcasts.”

  “As it should be!” Caireann announced in a loud voice.

  Sounds of Tadhg moving within the alcove drew both Caireann and Malcolm’s eyes to her room then back to Tisa.

  “Tadhg,” Tisa said.

  “Tadhg?” Caireann’s jaw dropped. “Tadhg? Is that ye?”

  Tisa’s husband joined them. “‘Tis none other, Caireann.”

  Caireann fell into his arms. Malcolm’s face remained stoic. Tisa knew the man well enough to know he would never ask for an explanation.

  It was Caireann who turned to Malcolm to explain. “Tadhg is Tisa’s betrothed.”

  “Husband,” Tadhg corrected her.

  “Husband? Oh, Tisa!” Caireann took Tisa into a tight embrace. “As it should be!”

  “Tisa’s betrothed? How can he be her betrothed when she was wed to Darragh?” Malcolm appeared to be losing his patience, being completely in the dark as he was. He needed more facts.

  “We were betrothed since we were very young. My father broke off the betrothal with no explanation. A misunderstanding,” Tadhg said, his eyes on Tisa.

  She tipped her head in agreement.

  Tadhg continued, “But that left her family open to attack. The Meic Lochlainn offered protection and that was when Tisa was wed to Darragh.”

  Malcolm frowned and said, “We have not been gone so long but much has happened!”

  “Oh, Malcolm, Darragh was a good husband to me. Ye must think me terrible to marry another so quickly.”

  “It does seem quick to me.”

  Tears gathered as soon as she started to speak. “Darragh lingered but a short time after he was stabbed. He feared for me being alone. He told me to marry Tadhg and love him, love him as deeply as I could. I honored his wish for me.”

  Malcolm’s intense gaze caused Tisa’s breath to cease. She realized this man’s opinion of her actions mattered greatly. If Malcolm saw her as anything less than honorable, she would be devastated.

  “Mistress, yer husband was a good man. Beg pardon for thinking ye would not respect him in all things. Ye have, again, shown him great respect by following his dictates even at this difficult time for ye. Come, wife, I wish to go to Brian and offer our support.”

  Caireann pulled her few things together before heading for the door.

  “Are the outcasts safe?” Tisa asked.

  “They are, mistress. I moved them to a spot closer to the sea. They have always gone there come spring.” His eyes rounded in understanding. “Forgive me for not telling ye.” He glanced at his bride. “I was a bit distracted.”

  Relief flooded her, like a weight lifting from her shoulders. “I was much afeared for them but rightly trusted that ye had seen to them.”

  “My thanks for yer trust. Oh—” Malcolm turned from the door, reached inside his leine and presented a rolled up parchment to Tadhg. “For ye. We came upon yer brother-in-law, Peter, during our travels. He bid me give ye this.”

  Tadhg took the missive, struggling to appear unaffected. “My thanks, Malcolm.”

  After Malcolm and Caireann left, Tisa turned on Tadhg with that all-knowing expression. “Yer brother-in-law? That would be Brighit’s husband? The Norman knight?”

  “Peter.” Tadhg lifted the missive. “No doubt he sends his greetings.”

  “No doubt.” Her eyes narrowed. “Here at yer behest? Did ye get word to him of Leofrid’s plans?”

  Why would he think she would not be aware of all going on around her? An intelligent lass as well as lovely.

  “I would not have my sister put in harm’s way by a surprise attack on England.”

  “Agreed! Well? Open it!”

  Tadhg,

  We bid you greetings, brother, and pray you fare well. Brighit is with me and anxious to show off your nephew to the rest of the MacNaughton Clan. Even Sean. The bearer of this missive tells us you are nearby. At your word we will come before heading south.

  Peace be with you.

  Peter

  Tadhg couldn’t hide his joy at this turn of events. “Brighit is here! They have a healthy son!”

  “‘Tis wonderful news! Can we go to them?”

  Tadhg glanced again at the missive. It was simply a message saying they had come for a visit. No more. “I will send word for them to come here forthwith.”

  “Tell me of Peter. Is he a handsome man?”

  Tadhg frowned at her and she smiled in response.

  “I ken that he is. He is wonderful and handsome and everything my sweet little sister deserves.”

  “He loves her greatly.”

  “Will ye tell Brighit that she and I are sisters?”

  “We are wed so ye are sisters.”

  “Will ye tell her of her true father? Of our father?”

  He shrugged. A long, thoughtful movement. “I need to think on it. It may not be worth the upheaval she is bound to feel. Mayhap it no longer matters since she is married to Peter.”

  ““Twill be wonderful to see Brighit. And a son?” Tisa said, her hands worrying in her lap. “It must be wonderful to have a son.”

  His heart went out to her. “We have only just begun, Tisa, and ye could be with child even now.”

  Her face brightened and she closed the distance between them. “True. Mayhap we should set about trying again?”

  A wise lass, as well.

  “Come,” Tadhg lifted the curtain and directed her to their pallet.

  He lay down beside her, one leg draped over hers, partially covering her. He kissed just to the side of her lips. “Sweet.”

  Then the other side. “Very sweet.”

  Pressing a kiss to each of her brows, then her nose. He glided his hand across her breasts, her nipples stiffening against his palm. “Very nice.”

  Tisa shifted to wrap her arm about his waist but he resisted her tugging him closer. He took her small hand, kissing the sweetness of her warm palm, before covering his hardened shaft with her hand.

  He urged her to fondle him. Stroking, squeezing, and pulling his hard length.

  “Very nice.”

  She was quite eager and he withdrew his hand, again returning to her lovely breasts. He opened her gown to his needy gaze. Each rose-colored peak begged for his attention. Her round globes heavy in his hand when he cupped them. He gasped as she fondled him, grasping him in a firm hand.

  Drawing her deep inside his mouth, his
tongue traced her hardened peaks before suckling her. Her hand moved more insistently. When she leaned up to reach beneath his leine, her breast pressed further into his mouth. He couldn’t hold back the moan, her hands hot and persistent. He traced the flat of his palm along the soft planes of her belly to the juncture of her legs, meeting blessed dampness. His finger prodded her gently and when her stroking began to match his rhythm, he became more enthusiastic, her wetness slicking his hand.

  Tadhg moaned and had to still her hand. She was far too adept. He pressed her flat on the bed and covered her. Looking down into those expressive eyes, her lips slightly parted, he knew he was where he belonged. Overwhelming peace filled him.

  He licked her lips, teasing her, until she smiled. His tongue plundered her mouth and his tarse slipped deep inside her. He had found heaven. Her skin like velvet, he slid his hand along her scrumptiously tight arse, gripping each cheek. He drove into her softness, knowing he had always belonged right here. She opened to him, encouraging him, small noises emanating from the back of her throat.

  “Let me hear ye.” He sounded winded but she nodded, her eyes remaining closed, a definite look of pleasure on her face.

  Her moans grew louder and her breathing more labored as he loved her. The smell of her was as sweet as an ocean breeze. When she pulsed around him, her passionate cry surrounding them, he pressed into her. Nothing in this world felt as good as this and her moans assured him she felt the same. Fitting tighter than a glove, her body pulled on him with each withdrawal, dragging against him, threatening his staying power. He shoved into her again, lifting her legs to deepen his entry. Her deep-throated moan pushed him over the edge. He was letting go, allowing his release, pumping into her still until at last, he dropped beside her. Exhausted. She snuggled close to his side.

  “I have sorely missed something quite enjoyable,” Tisa said, licking her lips, but her eyes remained closed.

  “I promise to make up to ye all the time we’ve lost.”

  She smiled and he kissed the tip of her nose before falling into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  ~

  SEAN FACED THE OCEAN, listening for the sound of the fog-shrouded waves. Strange sounds carried to him. He imagined he heard men and the creaking of boats. He laughed at his own imagination. Surely the excitement of preparation coursing through his veins was the cause. This time his excitement was not from preparation for battle but from preparation for his return home and to his wife. Lovely Thomasina. His heart ached. He missed her immensely. Talking to her. Listening to her. Helping her with chores. Bedding her. He felt lost without her by his side.

  “Sean!”

  He whirled around at the familiar voice, never truly expecting to see Peter, but there he was, standing right behind him. He was dressed not as a Norman knight but as a simple traveler. And Brighit stood at his side.

  “Peter?” Sean shook his head, his mind confused. “How are ye here?”

  “We sent Tadhg word through Malcolm telling him we had come to Eire and were headed to MacNaughton land.”

  “We met Malcolm and Caireann at the inn,” Brighit said.

  “Tadhg bid us come here so here we are.”

  Sean burst into a wide grin and closed the distance to Brighit, taking her into his arms.

  “Brighit!” He lifted her up into the air and twirled her around before placing her feet on the ground again. Sean stepped back, hands on his hips. Her face bright, she looked truly happy.

  “But look at ye! Ye’re no longer with child,” Sean said. “Where is the babe?”

  “Asleep with Tisa and Tadhg.”

  “You appear a little homesick standing there, Sean,” Peter said, pulling his wife close to his side.

  Sean resisted the urge to comment at the protective gesture. “I am missing Thomasina greatly.”

  “She is well and missing ye, of that I am certain.” Brighit cocked a brow, giving him her I-told-you-so expression. “Is it not just as I told ye? Ye needed only to open yer heart to find yer love.”

  Sean nodded, rubbing his chin. “Ye were correct.”

  “As you so often are.” Peter dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “And you do find great pleasure in saying as much.” Peter’s words were casual but his eyes remained steady on Sean. “We cannot stay long. Brighit wanted to see her brother.”

  Despite Brighit’s contented expression, there were dark circles under her eyes. A visit to the clan could easily have waited. No, this was definitely connected to Leofrid’s plans against the Normans.

  “Brighit is eager to get Padraig hom—”

  “Padraig? Ye named the child after yer d—da?” The word stuck in his throat. Padraig was not her father. “He would be very proud, Brighit.”

  Sean’s face heated and he hoped they hadn’t noticed.

  Brighit glanced at her husband, an undeniable look of love. “Peter named him. He said it was a good, strong name.”

  “Padraig loved Tisa from the first and fell asleep in her arms.” Peter glanced around the area. “We decided to take a walk around to see the place.”

  And get a lay of the land. Any trained knight that journeyed as a simple traveler was wearing a disguise.

  “Malcolm is going to show us the caves hidden in the cliffs. People live there.”

  Peter turned to her, a frown on his face. “You and Caireann go with Malcolm. I will remain behind. I wish to visit with Tadhg.”

  She turned to Sean. “Is it not wonderful that Tisa and Tadhg are together?”

  “They were always meant to be together.”

  “Surely all will be worked out between the clans.”

  Sean believed Brighit was correct yet again.

  Sean’s admiration for Peter increased the more he watched his gentle and caring ways with Brighit. He treated his wife with the utmost care, like a precious treasure. He treated their babe the same. A man of great honor and duty. Sean would be proud to fight alongside him if need be.

  Malcolm’s long strides made the walk to the caves more of a run but he seemed to be a man on a mission. He noticed Brighit’s struggles not at all and his own bride’s even less. Sean was glad he’d been asked to accompany them and followed up behind the single line.

  “Malcolm?” Caireann called to him even while she tried to keep up with him. “Is aught amiss, my love? Ye’re all but making us run.”

  The huge man stopped and glanced back at them.

  “Please. Is there something ye have not shared with us?” His wife placed her small hand on his arm. “Ye are in a great hurry.”

  Malcolm’s feelings were well-hidden beneath a full beard but Sean did not miss the intensity of his gaze. “Beg pardon. I wish to get there before the rain.”

  Caireann looked up through the canopy of trees overhead. “It does not look like rain to me.”

  Sean held little Padraig tightly in his arms. The babe slept, totally unaffected by the speed or the weather. “Mayhap we are close?”

  “We are. Take my arm, love.” Malcolm offered an arm to his wife, returning to a much slower pace. “Just a bit further.”

  The babe started making a quiet sucking noise. Sean was surprised when Brighit turned around to look at the child. Could she have heard the quiet sound? She nodded at Sean but kept up her steady pace behind Malcolm.

  A short walk along the cliff and they were tucked safely inside the cave. Coming up last, Sean took a moment to look out over the sea. As he had begun to suspect, several Norman vessels lay in wait just beyond the bay. Most of the clans Aodh had gathered to support Leofrid against the king had left, despite the Godwin’s attempts to coerce them to stay. Even the great Ronan had sent word he was no longer able to come. A battle would not ensue.

  The babe made a noise in his arms and he hurried in behind the others.

  There were about ten people within. Three children, a few old men and women, and one striking woman with long hair who hugged Malcolm.

  Brighit scooped Padraig from
Sean’s arms.

  She smiled her thanks. “He must be hungry.”

  As if on a signal, the small face screwed up to let out a large wail. It called the others to them like a siren.

  “Oh, a real baby.” A pretty little girl started toward them, a limp barely slowing her down. She had long hair and big eyes. She stopped suddenly, ran back, but quickly returned, a doll in her arms. “Just like mine.”

  Watching Brighit intently, she mimicked the way she rocked the baby and bared her breast for the feeding.

  “Ye’ve a lovely baby, too,” Brighit said.

  Padraig locked his tiny mouth on to her dark nipple with great eagerness. The suckling noise filling the small space.

  “And what is yer name?” Brighit asked.

  “I am Aednat. This is Tisa.” Aednat indicated the doll she now held to her breast.

  Sean went back to the entrance. He could make out seven vessels. Malcolm came to stand beside him. “Peter asked me to get these three to safety. I dinna want them to be alarmed.”

  “And what of Tisa?”

  “Tadhg did not worry for her. She kens how to get to the other cave if need be but he does not believe there will be any need.”

  The woman with the long hair came forward, surprising Sean when she hugged him. “Do ye remember me?”

  Sean was certain he had never met this woman before. “I dunna.”

  Malcolm went out along the path they’d just come up, leaving them alone.

  “I have not seen ye since ye were very small. Mayhap ye remember my son? Malachi?”

  The image of a skinny, blond boy with a huge lock of hair that constantly fell in his eyes came to Sean’s mind. Malachi. He’d had his own bow and arrow and a broadsword made just for him.

  “I do remember a young’un by that name.”

  The woman smiled. “That surprises me not. Ye two were very close.”

  “He had his own weapons.” Sean frowned his dislike. “I was never allowed to touch.”