by Reece Butler
“Laird, our horses are old and unused to such riding. We shall walk from here.” They dismounted and began to loosen cinches and hobble their horses. The beasts would be able to walk and graze, though not run.
“How does a pair of penniless MacDougals ride such fine horses?” asked Lovat.
“Ye ken these are nay ours,” replied Angus bluntly. “They be Laird Cameron’s.”
“And why would he gift ye with them?”
“Darach is marrying Isobel of Grant. As there will be many guests Cameron asked us to ride these for a wee while, to make space in the barn,” explained Angus.
“He doesna wish to have Laird Grant clap an eye on the beasts,” added Gillis bluntly.
“Ah, yes,” said Lovat. “Grant does have an acquisitive eye for good horseflesh.” He dismounted and handed his reins to his man as if he’d planned to stop here.
“All could see our horses are old and tired. Lovat wanted to see if we’d push them too hard,” murmured Angus to Gillis.
“Many men who take care of their horses, dinna do the same for their wife,” replied Gillis as quietly.
“Everything we do, or do not, is a test,” said Angus.
“So what do we do?”
“We be ourselves, just as we’d be in Duncladach with Fiona.”
The three of them walked up the steep track, leaving the men and horses behind. Because of the steep angle they couldn’t see what was above.
“You raised your hand to my niece,” said Lovat once they were far enough from his men to be private.
Angus knew they’d been watched as Cameron’s men had looked up once, then away. It hadn’t stopped him from doing what was necessary.
“My wife disobeyed an order I gave for her safety,” said Angus. “I showed her the error of her ways. As it was her first offense, ‘twas only a count of ten.”
“My man heard thirty.”
Angus had made sure the shrubberies would block the view from above. He’d aimed her bare legs and arse away from Cameron’s men as well. All would hear what was happening, but only he would see her naked flesh.
“‘Twas ten,” he said mildly.
“My man counted thirty.” Lovat answered in the same soft tone.
“I dinna count if my wife complains or tries to cover herself while being punished. When I told her that, she settled. I then gave her ten.”
“She was sore from riding.”
Angus finally looked at Lovat. “If my wife was well enough to race Cameron’s best stallion after I repeatedly told her nay, she was well enough to feel my hand on her arse for doing so.”
Lovat walked ahead in silence. Another test. If the laird had been angry about Angus spanking Fiona they would not be walking up a hill together.
They reached the summit. From here they could see a lower hill capped by a small towerhouse. There was a steep, though short, cliff on three sides of that hill. To the east, facing Clan Ranald land, dropped a high cliff. A breached curtain wall stood at the edge of the other side. It wasn’t thick enough for true defense though would keep animals in at night and stop wolves and men wishing easy entry. A battering ram and piles of rocks lay in the bailey, suggesting the rocks had been knocked from the inside out, then carried back in.
The towerhouse was ancient. Work had been recently done to it though some of that work had been destroyed. In addition to the breached wall some of the wooden structures inside the bailey had been burned. Black soot marks on the stone suggested it had been recent. The wall would take time and effort to rebuild though it could be done without a mason. Once rebuilt the towerhouse would serve to protect the lands of both Frasers and Camerons from the MacDonalds and Campbells, and anyone else wanting to cross the great rift that divided Scotland.
“‘Tis a fine pile of rubble ye have there,” said Gillis, full of cheer and sarcasm. He looked around appraisingly, nodding. “‘Twill catch a good breeze come winter,” he added, as if that was a good thing.
“Lairds Lochaber and Keppoch of Clan Ranald were not pleased I wished to rebuild,” said Lovat with matching sarcasm.
“Speak what ye mean to say,” demanded Angus. He was tired, hungry, and unsure of what would happen with Fiona. He wanted to get back to her. His tone challenged the older man and also said he meant business.
“You must prove you truly wish to be husbands to my niece.”
“We’ll do whatever task ye put us to,” said Gillis. He crossed his arms, able to look down on the slightly smaller man. “We’ll fight yer men, one at a time or in pairs, to show ye we mean to keep Fiona.”
“There’ll be no fighting.” Lovat managed to look down his nose at Gillis even though he was shorter. “It may upset my niece when you lose.”
Gillis took a step closer, eyes glittering. He dropped his voice. “And when we win?”
“Any lad can fight.” Lovat turned his back to them, showing both arrogance and confidence they’d not attack. He looked down at the towerhouse. “Building, now, that takes time, skill, strength, knowledge, and determination. So does protecting and providing for a wife and bairns.”
Angus understood the challenge. They would have to rebuild Lovat’s wall, and perhaps buildings, to prove they could protect and care for Fiona. Rebuilding would take time and effort but was not impossible. It didn’t matter. Nothing did as long as they left with Fiona. He gave an abrupt nod.
“How long do ye give us?”
“The sooner you finish the sooner you may get your wife back.”
“May?”
Chapter Eleven
Gillis fought the surge of rage at the laird who controlled their future. Laird Fraser could keep them here, rebuilding, while he took Fiona to Lovat Castle. It lay northwest of the far end of Loch Ness and would take many days of riding to get there. He could tell Fiona he’d show her where her mother grew up and that she could meet her family. Once there he’d also show her things they could never provide. As her most powerful male blood relative he could refuse to let Fiona leave the castle, or them enter.
It was not going to happen.
Gillis slowly turned to Fraser. “Nay, laird.” His words were quiet, but fierce. “Fiona will be here, helping us.”
Not only did he want Fiona in their bed at night he wanted her company during the day. He believed she would wish the same. She’d certainly been eager for their bodies the last few nights. Angus had said when he’d finished spanking Fiona she’d been wet and moaning. If they hadn’t had Camerons below and Frasers above he would have done more than spank her. Gillis would have joined in, if they were alone.
“My niece does not move stone,” replied Lovat haughtily.
“She will if she wishes to.” Gillis shrugged as if it meant nothing for a young woman to do such work.
“She may have been raised as a lad,” said Lovat, “but building takes brute strength.”
“Some of it, aye,” replied Angus. “There are other things that need a good eye and patience, such as choosing where to place rocks.”
“What would she know of that? A lass uses her eye to choose colored thread for her needle. She’d not wish to do more than watch.”
“Pardon,” said Angus, not meaning the word at all, “ye dinna ken Fiona as we do.”
“She’s a wellborn lass.”
“Aye, but she wasna raised as one. Menzies hired a tutor. The man had little to do and Fiona wished to learn. She listened and learned much.”
Gillis wanted to suggest that Lovat could ask Fiona about anything, and she was bound to have an opinion. It might even make sense to a man. Lovat pursed his lips as he looked at the tower. After a few moments he nodded.
“Ah, he may have told her stories. She could speak of them to keep you entertained while you work.”
Gillis muttered a curse about Lovat and sheep which was physically impossible, at least from the sheep’s perspective. He used the Western Gaelic dialect. Lovat would know it was a curse but not what it was about.
“My wife has
more book learning than all my brothers together,” said Angus.
“You would listen to a woman?”
“Thinkin’ has naught to do with what’s atween the legs,” replied Gillis. “If Fiona has knowledge I’ll not tell her to keep it to herself.”
Lovat stared at the towerhouse again. Angus and Gillis waited quietly. If they were barred from seeing Fiona, or if Lovat took her away, they’d have to find a way to get her back. Considering the size of the laird’s camp it would be difficult.
Lovat gave an abrupt nod and turned to Angus. “You will stay here. The lady may visit. She’ll sleep in my tent, with Anna.”
Angus nodded just as abruptly. The victory meant more than keeping Fiona near. Gillis wanted Fiona to see how they valued her knowledge. He also wanted her to help them, as she chose. It was an enormous task they were doing in hopes of staying married. He wanted her to understand how much she meant to them. Surely after this massive project she would fight back if her uncle tried to dissolve their marriage? Even if that happened, she could refuse to marry Lovat’s choice of husband. The man seemed to care for her. Knowing Fiona wanted them, would it encourage him to allow them to leave together?
“Just to be sure, laird,” said Gillis. “As soon as we rebuild yon wall and tower, we take Fiona with us back to Duncladach. Aye?”
“If you rebuild, and do it well, I may reconsider dissolving your marriage.”
“May?” blasted Gillis. “Ye’ll have us do all this work, for naught?” Gillis’s fists were tight, but he kept them at his sides. For now. Angus stepped between him and the laird.
“It won’t be for naught,” said Lovat with amusement. “I’ll get my wall rebuilt, which will please Cameron. If you build it well, and Fiona wishes to stay with you in spite of what I can offer her, I may let you leave together.” His eyes went hard. “But give me one reason to say nay, and the lady will be taken to Lovat Castle, by force if necessary.”
“Even if she wishes to stay with us?” demanded Angus.
“She is much like my sister, needing a strong husband. There are a few who could use a wife who will not faint at the sound of a cannon.” He looked them up and down with distain before descending. “Or of a large, loud husband,” he added over his shoulder.
Angus held Gillis from attacking.
“Slowly,” said Gillis from between gritted teeth. “And with great pain. Mayhaps skin him, starting at the ankles. An inch a day.”
“He complimented Fiona. And us. She does need strong husbands,” said Angus. “She will not faint at the thought of battle or of bedding us. If she is with us here, helping, our bond will grow.”
Gillis thought a moment. He looked around. Anyone standing where they were could be seen from the towerhouse as the hilltop was bare.
“Ye canna see inside the south wall or the tower from here,” said Gillis. His lips twitched. “Yon laird says our wife must sleep alone. Methinks he will keep her in a modest gown during the day. A gown is easily lifted.” His spirits, and his cock, rose.
“Fiona will have to keep that leather strap between her teeth,” mused Angus.
“We’ll need another,” replied Gillis with satisfaction. “Between the two of us she’ll soon bite right through it.”
Chapter Twelve
Lord Lovat lifted a glass of wine as he contemplated his next skirmish with the MacDougal brothers. He’d felt their eyes stabbing him in the back as he rode to camp. He was confident it was all they would ever attack him with. He wouldn’t have trusted their father, but the sons were far different. He'd heard good things about another pair of MacDougals. Cameron had said little in the note other than who Fiona was. It took a whole dinner conversation for Rabbie Cameron to explain the rest.
He’d just heard the full report from the man who’d silently and invisibly accompanied them across Cameron’s lands. He was impressed how well Fiona rode the stallion after stealing it from her husband. Lovat had allowed himself a chuckle at what happened next, and Fiona’s reaction. He would enjoy the upcoming battles between the three youngsters and himself.
Fiona was so like his younger sister. Their fiery hair matched their tempers. Unlike his sister the girl had learned to still her tongue and keep her eyes lowered. One view of those flashing eyes and Menzies would have ordered Fiona whipped for insolence. His spies said his sister had been stopped from jumping to her death after her fourth daughter was born. Menzies had waited a few weeks for her to heal from the birthing. Then he’d beaten her for the sin of denying him, yet again, a son and heir. After her suicide attempt Menzies locked her up as such a thing would look badly on him. However, women died in childbirth all the time, so he’d waited. Either he had beaten her to death after Fiona’s birth or she’d found another way to be released from the horrors of her life.
Having just found his sister’s child he would not lose her as he had Morag. Fiona was a fierce woman and a good match to her warriors. Together they’d produce children who would stand tall and proud. That would happen if, and only if, he believed they’d found a true connection. If they did not admit to love he would look into having their marriage annulled.
Angus and Gillis had fostered with Cameron, a man he knew was deeply in love with his wife. He had found the same with his Janet and wished his niece to have the same joy. He would do whatever it took to force the MacDougals into admitting what they felt. At the same time he’d enjoy watching them keep his niece in line while they proved they shared lust, passion, and an enduring love. It could be the three of them had only a temporary lust that would fade when exhausted from the work he would set them. A wild passion would also fade. Only a true, enduring love would put up with what he would throw at them.
Anna, the widow who’d helped Fiona bathe and dress, said she’d groaned about having a sore arse from riding. No doubt the spanking had made it worse. He would therefore make sure she sat next to him on a seat without a cushion. The meal would be long. He was sure Angus would appreciate the gesture though he and his brother would be sitting far down the table. It was yet another small point to anger them.
A knock brought him back to the present. He’d ordered the brothers to join him before they supped. They’d bathed and dressed in what must be their best shirts. Gillis, the red-haired one, curled his lip to reveal his teeth. Angus, dark like most MacDougals, appeared calm and composed. Yet the corner of one eye twitched, showing he was as irritated as his brother but more able to hide it. As Gillis had a temper he was the one to push. Lovat set his stare on the man.
“You want my niece. What life can you give her? Do you have rich lands to grow food? A keep of your own to protect her?”
“Ye ken we dinna,” replied Gillis. “The best was taken by Robert the Bruce and the Campbells.” He bared his teeth like a cornered wolf. “We’ll nay give up the rest.”
“You offer the daughter of a wealthy laird little more than a bedroll on the floor in your brother’s castle. As my niece, Fiona could marry a man of wealth and influence. She could have a life of comfort and ease. Yet you wish her to live with so little?”
“Did ye ask the wee lassie if she wants that life?” demanded Gillis. “She’d tell ye where to put yer ideas, and it would nay be in yer bonnet. I’m thinkin’ garderobe,” he added. “You know, the place where ye sit and sh—”
“Gillis!” Angus’s shout stopped his brother, barely. “My brother handfasted with Fiona to protect her.” His eyes sent a challenge. “She was alone in the world, eager to have someone who cared, and willing.”
“Very willing,” added Gillis in a growl.
Fiona had told him as much. What struck Lovat most was her astonishment that they gave her comfort as a woman yet accepted her as a worthy partner, able to carry her weight. She’d been denied both comfort and acceptance under her father’s rule. She’d also been denied the opportunity to be feminine, or be wooed. These two were the first men to show interest in her as a woman. He could use it as a mark against them.
“You
were safe on Cameron land with no need to protect Fiona with your name,” said Lovat. “Cameron could have found someone who could offer her more.” He turned his back on them to refill his wine. It was an insult and a mark of trust as they had been given their weapons back, all but their claymores. “I suggest you wanted a wife, and Fiona was the first unattached woman you found.” He faced them again. They hadn’t moved, nor had their expressions tempered. “Though you wanted a wife with a dowry you knew you’d do no better. You were lucky to have found someone who accepted you both.” He hardened his face and his voice. “You were thinking with your cocks.”
“Damn ye! We care for the lass!” Gillis took a furious step forward. Angus grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Lord Lovat is right,” said Angus coldly. “We did not wish to risk losing Fiona to a Cameron. Aye, because of Fiona my brother is here, not rotting in a dank hole awaiting the next beating or death. And,” he said quietly, “Gillis is why Fiona was not tossed like a well-chewed bone to Glenorchy’s men after he finished with her.”
The thought of his tiny niece being ripped into by rough men would give him nightmares if he let it. He gave a nod of acceptance and thanks.
“She had a fever afore she was tossed in that pit, yet she ran beside us to escape.” Angus stood tall. “Fiona is far more than a female wanted for bedding and bairns. You insult her by saying so. You insult us also, but that I’ll ignore.”
Lovat pretended an attitude of unconcern as if the words meant nothing to him. In truth he was impressed they recognized her value. To ensure they weren’t just spouting words he would put them in a situation that would show their true character. Building a wall higher than their heads would do that. An added touch would be having his men standing near, guarding and commenting but not offering help.
“She fell into your laps,” he said as if it was their excuse. “You wanted her and so bound her to you before she had a chance at another.”
