The Laird's Choice

by Amanda Scott

  “I think so,” he said.

  Tilting her head to look up at him, she smiled wistfully and said, “Do you have emotions, Magnus Mòr?”

  When he hesitated, she said, “Nay, of course you do, for I have sensed some of them. I sensed your fear when his grace mentioned the Galbraiths as a clan that is unfriendly to him. And I do not think that fear was for yourself.”

  He remained silent.

  “Am I wrong, sir?”

  “Nay, but neither are we going to discuss Clan Galbraith tonight.”

  “Then you are concerned, mayhap about its chief and his other sons, aye?”

  “I can tell you only what I told his grace. I ken nowt of their activities since my capture. But I’ll admit they may be shoulder deep in the very plot I uncovered.”

  “I hope they are not,” she said sincerely.

  “I, too. In troth, though, Ian did say he’d heard that Rory had served Lennox and that our brother Patrick serves Murdoch’s third son, James Mòr Stewart.”

  “James Mòr? I know little about him. Is he a mountain of a man, too?”

  “Nowt of the sort. Nor is he fat or a great noble. Men rarely speak at all of him. I think he calls himself so to seem more important. But, lass—”

  “I know. We are not going to talk about him, either. At least, you’ve told me about your brothers. What about your father?”

  To her surprise, this time he answered her. “Just as you think you know your sire, I thought that I knew mine. Although he did play Jack-of-both-sides, I believed he was a man of honor. I don’t know what he has become now. And I could not swear to what I do not know. Hence am I fearful, just as you’ve said.”

  “But not as fearful as you are grief-stricken over your brother Will’s death,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I sensed that, too, when you mentioned him.”

  He made a sound low in his throat, then shifted onto his side so that he looked into her eyes as he said, “Again you are right. But tell me more about these so-disconcerting abilities of yours. We can discuss my feelings anon.”

  Feeling closer to him than ever before but also guilty for pressing him and for mentioning his brother Will’s death, she said, “I can tell you that Jamie Stewart is fiercely determined to bring the rule of law to our unruly nation—to all of it—and at any cost. In troth, his determination is so fierce that I fear that it may blind him to what others think if he does not take care. But he is wise, too, I think.”

  “Aye, he thinks you are beautiful. But that takes only ordinary eyesight.”

  “You jest, Magnus. But I think you do so only to divert me from more talk of your family, because you must know I thought of your father again when I spoke of Jamie. I do believe that Galbraith will be overjoyed to learn that you’ve escaped from Parlan. And I think that when you tell him you spoke with the King and that Jamie expressed doubt of his loyalty, your father will be fain to assure you that he is loyal—and honorable, too. Then you can reassure his grace.”

  “Sakes, lass, do your abilities allow you to predict the future?”

  “No, sir. I cannot do that. But fathers and sons must often disagree. Even so, if they care deeply for one another, they must find their path together.”

  Mag was glad she could not read his thoughts just then. He did not doubt her faith in her own father but feared she was equating Galbraith with Andrew. In truth, even if Galbraith said he was loyal to the King, Mag was not sure he’d believe him.

  Since he was not ready to share that thought with her, he gave her shoulders a squeeze and said, “I won’t know what my father thinks until I see him, will I? So, tell me about the beasts now. I saw how you whistled the hawks and the osprey to your aid. But I know not how you trained them to attack on command.”

  With a sigh, she rested a warm hand against his chest and said, “I do not train birds, sir. I told Parlan’s men as much that day, and you heard me. But I cannot blame any of you for disbelieving me. Sithee, I know when the animals are distressed or when one might attack, just as I know such things about people. I sense emotions even at a distance, but I don’t know how or why. My mother accepts my ability. My father pretends to think it is foolish talk and says he has never seen it for himself. But he trusts my opinion of people. Mam insists that he has seen things. He simply did not understand them or want to believe in them.”

  “What do you suppose she meant by that?”

  “I don’t know. I think something must have happened when we escaped from Parlan. Perhaps you should ask her.”

  Mag tried to imagine such a conversation with Lady Aubrey and decided there had to be other ways to learn about her unusual gifts or abilities.

  Andrena was beginning to sound drowsy, but fingers of the hand she rested against his chest had begun idly stroking him, and he was sure that if he kept silent for long, she would press him to talk more about his family. Deciding to divert her thoughts in the way that he knew best, he began gently to untie the ribbons that held her smock closed across her breasts.

  When she responded with a murmur of pleasure, he shifted position slightly to help her off with her smock, gently kissing and teasing her nipples as he did. Then, trailing kisses from her breasts, over her ribs, to her belly and lower, he felt her tense when his fingers touched the soft curls at the juncture of her silken thighs.

  Leaving that hand lightly where it lay, he moved to capture her willing lips and explore her mouth with his tongue. When he knew she was ready for him below, he eased himself up, over her, and inside. Then he paused, watching her.

  All three candles had begun to flicker. One guttered and went out with soft hiss. The golden-orange glow in the room dimmed.

  With a low moan, she pressed upward against him—once almost hesitantly, the second time with insistence and a tweak of his right nipple—urging him to move with her and smiling when he willingly complied. Although their coupling was short, he knew she was weary and accounted his tactic a successful diversion.

  They slept, and the next day, after breaking their fast and bidding their hosts farewell, they returned to Tùr Meiloach, following the route by which they had come. Colquhoun offered to send them in a galley, saying that the shortness of their journey might mean that no one on the MacFarlan side of the river would be looking for them yet. But Andrena assured him that someone would be there.

  When Mag reminded him that Parlan’s men might still be on the watch, the laird agreed they would be wiser to avoid calling attention to themselves.

  Andrena hoped to talk more with Mag as they went. Not only had she been glad to learn more about his family, but she also liked exchanging ideas with him and just hearing the sound of his voice.

  Ian and two of his men walked with them to the river crossing, where Sorley and Peter were waiting. The bridge came down, and as they said their farewells, Ian told Mag to send word if he needed him.

  “I hope you’ve forgiven me, Mag,” he added.

  “Aye, sure,” Mag said, clapping him on the back. “Many thanks, lad. We’ll be seeing each other again soon for the lady Aubrey’s birthday if nowt else.”

  After they crossed the bridge, Ian and his men turned back toward Craggan.

  With Mag’s help, Sorley and Peter returned the bridge to its tree.

  As they all began walking up the hill, Andrena suggested that Mag ask the other two to drop back enough to let them talk privately.

  “Nay, lass,” he said, glancing back at the two. “We’ll talk soon enough about aught that you want to discuss. For now, I want to make speed. Sithee, the sooner we tell Andrew Dubh what happened at Paisley, the sooner we gain his counsel and can decide on our best course.”

  “Surely, your own course is to hie yourself to Inch Galbraith to talk with your lord father and present your wife to him.” When he hesitated, she looked up and saw that he’d pressed his lips together. “Sir,” she said gently, “I hope your need for haste does not include leaving me behind when you do go to Inch Galbraith.”

 
He looked as abashed then as a child caught in mischief might. But he rallied to say, “I’ll admit I did have some such thought before we talked yestereve. And I’ll not say that I fully believe in all the gifts you claim to have. I do not disbelieve what you tell me,” he added hastily. “I agree with your lady mother that you may enjoy heightened awareness in some way or another. But I remain reluctant to accept that you can tell just by meeting someone if he is trustworthy or not.”

  “I never claimed to do that,” she said, glancing back to see how close Peter and Sorley were. Deciding they were all still close enough to the river for its roar to keep them from overhearing her, she added, “I said I can usually sense when I can trust someone or if a person’s statements are sincerely spoken.”

  “I remember,” he said. “Forbye, I do want you to come with me to Inch Galbraith, and for more than one reason.” With a rueful twinkle, he added, “My father will behave more civilly to me if you are there, for one thing. In troth, though, I’ll welcome your opinion of aught he says to us. He will likely want to be privy with me as well, though.”

  “I am sure he will, sir. My father would want the same thing had he not seen me for nearly two years.”

  “We’ll talk more of this,” he said. “There are things you should know before you meet him, things that I… that I have not told you. Even so, I’d liefer get to Tùr Meiloach quickly and talk quietly there after we both have rested.”

  “Then you expect protest, an argument, or even a scolding from me, I think.”

  He grinned and put an arm around her, giving her a warm hug. “I don’t know what I expect,” he admitted. “But I do want to think some before I give my head to you for washing, if that is what happens.”

  “I must terrify you, as wicked and temperamental as I am,” she said with a mocking look.

  “Aye, you’re a threaping scauld and nae mistake, always giving me the dichens. But if I can devise a defense whilst we walk, I may just survive the fracas with most of me still intact.”

  She shook her head at him but understood that he needed time to think.

  Although they did talk as they walked, their conversation was sporadic and desultory. They were still a mile or so from the tower when Andrena saw that her family had been expecting them.

  “Look yonder, sir,” she said, gesturing.

  Drawn abruptly from thoughts that had scarcely begun to sort themselves, Mag stared into the dense foliage ahead and saw nothing. Then well-honed instinct asserted itself, and he sensed the approach of two or three entities.

  His right hand moved to his sword, his left to shift Andrena from his path.

  The grin on her face when she turned at his touch gave him enough warning to relax seconds before two of her collies burst from the foliage. Her sisters and Pluff followed, calling out greetings.

  “You must have had a successful trip,” Lina said. “We were surprised to realize you were returning so soon. But we are gey glad to see you. Dare we hope that you did so quickly find”—she flicked a glance at Pluff—“the man you sought and gained an audi—that is, that you talked with him?”

  Giving Andrena a look that he hoped would warn her to say nowt yet about their audience with Jamie Stewart, Mag held his breath.

  She said, “We did meet him. He is charming, and you would both like him. But we must speak to Father about that first and let him and Magnus decide how much to tell others. Sithee, some of it was privy between Magnus and… and him. Sir Ian Colquhoun went with us, though. And I can tell you about that.”

  Mag said, “Before you do, lass, we should send Pluff ahead to let everyone know that we will be there for supper.”

  The look she shot him indicated protest, but it faded quickly.

  Andrena nearly told him it wasn’t necessary to send Pluff. But she realized that Mag was being both cautious and wise. It would not do to let too many people learn the truth about Ian’s journey with them or their confrontation with Dougal’s galleys.

  “Aye, then, Pluff,” she said. “Run ahead and tell Malcolm Wylie that we’re nearly at the gate and are nigh to starving.”

  When the lad had obeyed, taking the dogs with him, Andrena said to her sisters, “Two of Parlan’s boats, under Dougal MacPharlain’s command, tried to stop us on the Loch of the Long Boats shortly before we reached Craggan Tower.”

  “Mercy,” Lina said. “Surely, the Colquhoun galley did not stop.”

  “It did, but only long enough to let Ian pretend that I was his sister.”

  “His sister!” Murie exclaimed.

  Andrena added dryly. “Although Ian has become Sir Ian, he has not changed much. He spun Dougal a tale as good as any of yours, Murie.”

  Lina said, “Ian sounds as if he were still ten years old, as full of mischief as he was then, and still reckless withal. Someone ought to teach him caution.”

  “I did tell him he ought not to tell such lies,” Andrena said. “But he just laughed and said that Dougal and his lads deserved to hear lies.”

  “That may be so—” Murie began, but Lina interrupted her.

  “Sir Ian Colquhoun is a knight of the realm. He ought never to lie!”

  “You must tell him so,” Andrena said. “He may listen to you. Meantime,” she added casually, “Magnus chucked him into the loch.”

  Her sisters both burst into laughter, and Lina said to Mag, “I do thank you, sir. I have wanted to do that any number of times myself. As for Ian listening to me, Dree, you must know that he pays me no heed at all.”

  “Well, we mustn’t stand talking,” Andrena said. “Let’s walk, you two.”

  Murie and Lina turned back toward the tower, and Andrena looked up at Mag, who was looking bemused.

  “You see,” she murmured. “They knew we were coming.”

  “Art sure that your father’s men did not tell them?”

  “You ken fine that Sorley and Peter are still walking behind us, sir.”

  “Aye, sure, but Andrew Dubh must have many others keeping watch.”

  “He does, aye. But not one would leave his post merely to tell him that you and I are returning with Sorley and Peter. That they are with us would assure any watcher that all is well.”

  When he remained silent but held her gaze, she realized that he had reason to question the guards’ competence. “You and Parlan’s men did enter our woods that day without them seeing you because of the dreadful storm and the morning fog that followed it. Your pursuers also crossed Colquhoun’s land to hang their rope swing. You may have noticed that it is gone now, as is the limb from which they swung.”

  “I did notice,” he said.

  Murie turned then and asked them to describe the King and what he had worn. The conversation became general after that until they reached the tower.

  Mag knew that Andrew would urge him to go straight on to Inch Galbraith and likely would brook no delay. But the stakes involved in confronting his father were high, because he still had much to lose if all was not already lost to him.

  He suspected, too, that Andrena’s curiosity would not contain itself much longer. As she chatted away with her sisters, he felt a certain wistful envy of the ease with which they communicated, often with only a look or a gesture.

  Doubtless, such ease was a result of having spent nearly every day of their lives together. It was only natural that each was able to anticipate what the others would say. Although he was still doubtful of their more unusual abilities, he wished that he had enjoyed such easy intercourse with his father and brothers.

  Logic told him that such relationships had been unfeasible. His brothers were all older, often away for training or battle. Even when he’d begun to follow in their footsteps, they were beyond him in their training and impatient with him. His father, too, had had his duties and was intolerant of error or disobedience. That Mag had made little effort at the time to curb his own temper or his now admittedly naïve desire to set the world to rights had not helped.

  Realizing that the three young
women had fallen silent, he saw that Andrena was eyeing him thoughtfully. But she made no comment.

  The tower wall came into view, and when they neared it minutes later, Andrew strode through the open gateway to meet them as he had before.

  “Ye’re an efficient lad,” he said, gripping Mag’s hand. “Come and tell me all about it now whilst Lina and Murie help Dree change for supper.”

  Noting Andrena’s look of protest, Mag did not acknowledge it, saying only, “Aye, sir, I’ll meet you in your chamber shortly. I’d liefer clean myself up first, so I can help Andrena if she needs it. She and her sisters will have time to talk later.”

  Looking from Mag to Andrena, Andrew nodded. “Aye, then,” he said. “But dinna be all night about it. I’ll tell Malcolm to order supper set back a bit.”

  When Mag shut the door of their bedchamber, Andrena watched him, wondering yet again what he was thinking. Despite her frustration that her father wanted to talk with him alone, she had made no protest. Nor could she think of anything else that she might have done to irk him, so she held her peace.

  When he turned from the door at last, she saw to her astonishment that he looked wary, as if he again feared that he had annoyed her.

  Her sense of humor stirred.

  Although she managed not to smile or laugh, one of his eyebrows shot upward, revealing that he had noted the change in her mood.

  “How do you do that?” she demanded.

  “Raise one eyebrow?”

  “Nay, I could see that you were worried about something and wondered if you feared you had angered me again. When I realized that I was being foolish to imagine such a thing, that wary look of yours vanished. Although you have said that you do fear my temper,” she added dryly.