As she walked along the walls of her keep, she prayed that Caelen would understand her dilemma and not hate her for her decision. But she would not blame him if he chose to hate her and despise her every day for the rest of his life. He had earned that right, she supposed, to hate her vehemently for breaking his heart and marrying another. If their roles were reversed she imagined she’d probably want to hate him if he married another.
She was almost to the keep when out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Bhruic as he made his way into the stables. That did not give her pause so much as the fact that Alyse followed him in only a moment later.
‘Twasn’t jealousy that made her veer away from the keep and toward the stables, but curiosity. She knew Alyse better than she knew Bhruic. Mayhap her instinct from the other night was correct, that Alyse had feelings for the man.
Ignoring the people she passed, Fiona made her way to the stables and peeked inside to mayhap catch a glimpse of her betrothed and his potential lover. Little bits of dust danced in the sunlight, the aroma of hay and horses filtered outside, but that was all that Fiona could make out. She looked up and down the stables but saw nothing but horses peering out over the doors. Straining her ears to listen, to hear over the occasional nicker or stomp of a hoof, she finally heard the low muffled voices coming from the stable master’s private room to her right. The door stood slightly ajar, so she tiptoed toward it.
’Twas Bhruic and Alyse she heard, but their voices were low and muffled. Alyse was crying, but Fiona could only make out every few words. It sounded as though Bhruic was trying to comfort the poor woman.
“Wheesht, Alyse,” Bhruic whispered.
Fiona could not hear what Alyse said next for her voice was so soft and low, but she could reason out that the woman was mightily heartbroken.
“I would change things,” Bhruic whispered, then murmured something inaudible. “I have no choice … I love ye, Alyse, ye ken that …”
Fiona’s heart suddenly felt quite constricted. Not once had she thought to ask Bhruic if there was another that he might love. She had not stopped to ask him what sacrifice he might be making. She’d only thought of all that she was giving up.
Unable to listen to the heartbreaking sobs coming from Alyse or Bhruic’s attempts to console her, Fiona quietly slipped away.
* * *
Fiona did something she rarely did. She sought the counsel of her sisters-in-law. They had been in the kitchens, arguing with the cook over the meal he had planned for the wedding feast. She pulled the two women away with a lie that she wanted to try her gown on. Happily, they followed her above stairs and into her bedchamber. As soon as they were inside, Fiona bolted the door.
“I need to speak with ye,” Fiona said. “But I need ye to promise ye’ll no’ say what ye think I want to hear, but rather what yer heart tells ye.”
Isabelle and Mairi stared at her, perplexed, but nodded in silent agreement.
“Ye ken that I do no’ love Bhruic,” she began. “But I have just learned somethin’regardin’ Bhruic and Alyse, that I fear changes everythin’ about tomorrow.”
Her sisters-in-law looked genuinely concerned, but waited for her to explain.
“I fear that Bhruic and Alyse love one another. Poor Alyse is heartbroken.”
“Ye’ve talked to her?” Mairi asked.
Fiona shook her head, “Nay, but I’ve just overheard the two of them together, in the stables. Alyse was in tears, just a sobbin’, and poor Bhruic sounded as though he wished to cry along with her. I’ve no doubt that they love each other.”
Mairi and Isabelle glanced at one another, uncertain what it was exactly that Fiona wanted from them.
“I fear I’ve been verra selfish this past week,” Fiona admitted as she wrapped her arms around her stomach. She felt ashamed of her own actions and complete lack of regard for the man she had pledged to marry. “No’ once did I ask Bhruic what was in his heart. I’ve avoided him at every turn and I have been mopin’ around and actin’ like an arse.”
From the expressions on her sisters-in-law faces they agreed wholeheartedly with her assessment.
“I do no’ think I can marry Bhruic, not when I ken his heart belongs to Alyse. And what of Alyse? I marry the man she loves and she’s forced to see the two of us together day after day?” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I do no’ want to enter into another marriage knowin’ me husband canna or will no’ ever care fer me. And I canna do that to him. ’Twould no’ be fair to either of them, would it?”
Neither Isabelle nor Mairi had any answers for her.
“I fear ’twill be somethin’ ye need to pray about, Fi,” Isabelle said.
Prayer might be her last vestige of hope.
Fourteen
Fiona had done a good deal of soul-searching and praying the rest of the day. She could not in good conscience keep her word to marry Bhruic after she had discovered just how much he and Alyse loved each other. ‘Twould have been a monumental mistake on her part to walk down that aisle and make an oath before God to love and honor a man who, not unlike herself, could not ever love her. At best, all they could hope for was a mutual friendship.
She knew the agony and suffering that Bhruic, and Alyse, would be forced to endure. Imagining herself in Alyse’s shoes, watching the man she loved building a life with another woman was devastating. She simply could not do it.
After enlisting the aid of her sisters-in-law, it took very little effort to convince Alyse that it should be she who married Bhruic, not Fiona. They had pulled Alyse into Fiona’s bedchamber after the evening meal and had an honest and heartfelt discussion on the matter.
Alyse, a sweet and bonny woman with blonde hair and big blue eyes, sat in a chair facing Fiona, Isabelle and Mairi. Sniffling and wiping away tears, she asked, “But what if Edgar refuses to allow it? What are we to do then?”
In truth, Fiona hadn’t thought that far in advance. “We will think of somethin’,” Fiona said, trying to sound more confident than she truly felt.
Alyse looked up at the women surrounding her. Fiona knew the young woman and mother of two small boys was doubtful. “If he does no’ agree,” Alyse began, “I will leave. I can go live with me mum’s sister, she be a McLaren. I have already packed, ye see, because I did no’ allow meself to hope fer a miracle.”
Fiona could not rightly blame her. She would have done the same. “Do no’ worry over it just yet,” Fiona said as she glanced at Mairi and Isabelle. “Together, we’ll think of a way fer ye to be with Bhruic, ye and all yer bairns together as a family, as it should be.”
Mairi and Isabelle offered warm smiles to Alyse. “Aye,” Isabelle said. “If anyone can convince a man to do a thing, ‘twould be our Fiona.”
Fiona wished she had as much faith in herself as her sister-in-law did.
* * *
’Twas just the two of them, Fiona and Edgar, sitting at the table in her private study. She had just informed him that she would not be marrying Bhruic on the morrow. To say Edgar MacKinnon was not a happy man would have been an understatement. Though he did not rant and rave or make threats, Fiona could see his fury simmering just under the surface.
“Ye made a promise,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Aye, I did make a promise. But I canna in good conscience go to the altar on the morrow when I ken verra well that Bhruic loves another,” Fiona told him.
His brow drew into a knot and looked as though he had not been party to that bit of information. Either Bhruic had not shared his feelings with his uncle or his uncle hadn’t expected Fiona to find out.
“Alyse McPherson,” Fiona gave him the name and waited for a reaction. A flicker of something menacing flashed behind Edgar’s eyes. “She was a MacKinnon and married into our clan several years ago. Her husband was killed about the same time as my James died. She has two sons and had been verra good friends with Bhruic’s wife. Since the deaths of their spouses, the two became good friends and that friendship turned
into much more.”
“I do no’ see what that has to do with your promise to marry him. We had an agreement. Ye signed it. Ye made a promise. The weddin’ be on the morrow.” Though he was doing his best to maintain control, the sharp edge in his voice was unmistakable.
“The weddin’ will still take place,” Fiona said.
Edgar studied her for a moment, perplexed and angry all at once.
“Bhruic will marry Alyse.” She waited a few moments to allow him to mull it over. “I do no’ expect ye to still offer yer warriors or anythin’ else ye promised us. But I would still like us to be allies, Edgar. Ye and yers would always be welcome here. And the McPhersons will keep their word to offer ye aid should ye need it.”
For inexplicable reasons, her promise that they would remain allies seemed to appease him. Clan MacKinnon was far bigger than the McPhersons. Why was it so important for them to remain allies? Mayhap it went along the lines of ‘every little bit helps’. Aid, no matter how little or in what form, could eventually prove essential.
“What has Bhruic said on the matter?” Edgar asked, still keeping a suspicious eye on Fiona.
“I’ve no’ yet discussed it with him. Out of respect of our friendship, I wanted to come to ye first. But I’ve seen the way Bhruic looks at Alyse. I doubt he’ll be complainin’ about a change in brides.”
Edgar found that amusing and finally allowed himself to smile. “Me nephew be a romantic. I find it more an affliction than a blessin’.” He took in a deep breath and seemed to ponder things for a moment. Finally, he gave a quick nod of his head. “Verra well then, Bhruic and Alyse may marry.”
Relief washed over Fiona, but she managed to maintain her calm demeanor.
Edgar quickly added, “As long as ye promise we will remain allies.”
“I do so promise,” Fiona said.
“And I may visit often?”
Fiona raised a brow, uncertain why that was so important to him.
He grew uncomfortable under her close scrutiny. After a long, awkward silence, he said, “I was no’ blessed with daughters, only sons. I’ve grown quite fond of Bhruic’s wee daughter, Aingealag,” he said as if he were ashamed to admit it. “And if ye e’r repeat that, I’ll deny it!” he said, pointing a bony finger at her.
She had assumed that Bhruic would return to his own family after the wedding. “Ye intend for Bhruic to remain here?” she asked.
“Aye,” Edgar said before quickly adding, “ye’ll be needin’ every able-bodied man ye can get.”
That much was true. Still, she found it odd that Edgar would still insist Bhruic remain behind. Neither he nor Alyse were McPhersons.
“I’ll no’ be givin’ ye the one hundred men I promised. But I can leave ye a few.”
’Twas a most generous offer and she supposed she should not look a gift horse in the mouth. “Verra well then. I thank ye kindly, Edgar.”
“And I may visit me grandniece?”
“Aye, ye may.”
He looked much relieved and quite happy then. Why did some men feel ashamed at loving a person? Did they truly think it a sign of weakness? Resisting the urge to lecture him, she merely smiled. “So ye do possess a heart, after all.” Fiona teased. He glared at her. “I give ye me word, I’ll no’ ever tell another livin’ soul that ye have a heart, Edgar.”
Fifteen
The next morning dawned bright and brilliant, with clear blue skies and not the slightest indication of rain. The McPherson keep was alive with excitement and anticipation, even if it was no longer their chief who was marrying Bhruic MacKinnon.
Fiona was truly happy for Alyse and Bhruic. Though she still hadn’t solved the problem of the raids, she could be happy for the couple. She even went so far as to give over the beautiful blue gown that had been made for her, to Alyse. Isabelle and Mairi had stayed up late the night before, taking in the hem, waist and sleeves, so that it would fit the bride.
Though she would have liked to have gone through the entire day pretending she had not a care in the world, that was impossible. Until they were able to learn the identity of the men responsible for the raids, they would have to be even more cautious. Fiona ordered more men to the walls and more scouts to patrol their borders. Their resources were stretched thin enough as it was, but she could not afford to take any chances. The last thing they needed was to be caught unawares especially on this day.
Fiona had dressed for battle that morning, much to Mairi and Isabelle’s vexation. “Certainly ye do no’ plan to wear yer leather and mail to the weddin’?” Mairi asked while they broke their fast.
“I do,” Fiona said, only because she took a good deal of pleasure in watching her sisters-in-law’s looks of horror.
“Och! Fiona,” Isabelle said. “Ye canna do that! ’Tis a special occasion! And ye be givin’ the bride away!”
Unable to keep her expression serious any longer, Fiona burst into a fit of laughter. “Of course I’ll no’ be wearin’ this!” She rolled her eyes at the two women. Teasing them even further and because she was well aware what the women thought of her auld, plain dresses, she said, “I’ll wear me brown dress.”
“That be even worse!” Mairi exclaimed.
Fiona rolled her eyes and smiled. “I ken now how me brothers were able to get such beautiful wives,” she said. “Yer both gullible.”
“Ye should no’ tease like that,” Isabelle chastised. “’Tis no’ a nice thing to do.”
“Please fergive me,” Fiona said, unable to wipe away her smile. “I be in a verra fine mood this day.” There was no denying that she felt very much like a convicted murderer who’d been given a pardon by the king.
Mairi nodded toward one of the tables below. “It appears as though Bhruic and Alyse be happy as well.”
Alyse and her two sons sat at a table below, with Bhruic sitting across from them. They did look quite happy. Fiona had no doubt she had made the right decision, but something felt out of place at that table. It took a few moments before a sudden thought dawned. “Where be Bhruic’s daughter?” She’d been so wrapped up in her own misery that she hadn’t given any thought to the child.
Isabelle was adding jam to a slice of bread. “Alyse told me the child be ill. Nothin’ too serious, but they felt it best to keep her at the MacKinnon keep. Edgar’s family be takin’ care of her.”
“I hope it be nothin’ serious,” Fiona said with growing concern. If it were her child who was ill, she imagined wild horses could not have dragged her away from the child’s side. Mayhap ’twas different for fathers.
“Nay,” Isabelle said. “Nothin’ serious from what I be told. They’ll send the child here as soon as she is better.”
Collin entered the gathering room, wee Symon in his arms. They made their way to the dais, where Symon reached out for his mum. Mairi’s eyes always lit with love whenever her husband or her son were near. For once, Fiona felt no jealousy at the sight, just happiness for her brother and his family.
After handing Symon off to Mairi, Collin sat down between his wife and sister. “The MacKinnon offered some of his men to help with patrols this day,” he said as he stabbed at a piece of ham and placed it on his trencher. “I say he’s takin’ the change in brides quite well.”
“Aye, he is,” Fiona said as she finished the last bite of her eggs. “He wants us to remain allies, though I must admit I do no’ ken why.”
“Mayhap it be yer sweet disposition,” Collin quipped.
Fiona laughed at his jest. “That must be it.”
“I must agree, I wonder the same,” Collin said as he glanced around the busy room. “But fer now, I be glad to have the extra help, and even more relieved yer sudden change in heart did no’ start a clan war.”
Fiona took a sideways glance at her brother. She could not fault him for his honesty for she had been worried over that as well. Edgar MacKinnon however, had proved to be a just man, a man with a heart at least where his grandniece was concerned.
“Have we had any w
ord from Brodie?” Fiona asked.
Collin nodded. “He sent word a few days ago that he’d no’ miss yer weddin’ fer all the world. I did send word this mornin’ that there was a change in plans. ’Twill be later this day before our messengers return.”
Fiona missed her brother. He had sent word more than a week ago, that his wounds were healing nicely, though he hated laying abed all day. She was glad he would be returning for she missed his councel and cheery disposition.
“I be glad to hear it, Collin. There be a level of mischievousness missin’ from our keep these past weeks that only Brodie can fill.”
Collin chuckled and stuffed eggs into his mouth. “True,” he said.
Done eating, Fiona pushed away from the table. “I want to check the walls again,” she told Collin. When he started to stand, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Nay, finish eatin’, brother. I will no’ be gone long.” She looked to Isabelle and Mairi. “Will ye be so kind as to meet me in me bedchamber after the noonin’ meal? I fear I canna get into me green dress without yer aid.”
Their eyes lit with relief and glee. “Aye, we can,” Mairi said as she gave Symon a bit of bread.
Kissing the top of Symon’s head, she bid them all a good morn.
* * *
After patrolling the walls, Fiona met with their smithy and weapons maker. She was pleased to see that he’d been stockpiling enough arrows that they could withstand a year-long assault.
Feeling better than she had in a long time, she made another walk along the walls before heading to the bathhouse. Sufficiently scrubbed from head to toe, she stepped into a robe, gathered her belongings and went to her bed chamber. She had passed by Mairi’s room, where she and Isabelle were helping Alyse ready herself for her wedding. Alyse’s smile lit the room.
“We’ll be along to help ye soon,” Isabelle promised as she held up the dress that had been meant for Fiona. ’Twas a beautiful blue gown, the color of the sky on a sunny day. Made of fine blue silk, the hem and sleeves were trimmed in gold threads. Alyse would look stunning in it.
Caelen's Wife, Book Two Page 12
