Caelen's Wife, Book Two

by Suzan Tisdale

  “Do no’ worry,” Fiona said. “The bride first.”

  Leaving them to fuss over Alyse, Fiona went to her room and shut the door.

  The hearth was cold, so she built a new fire. Once it caught, she pulled the stool up and sat near it, thankful for the warmth, as well as some time to be alone with her own thoughts.

  She thought back to what Collin had said about Brodie’s message. Nothing was mentioned of Caelen or his reaction to the news that she was to have been married this day. Admittedly, she was a bit hurt that Caelen hadn’t come storming down her walls when the banns were read. Mayhap he did not love her as much as she thought he had.

  ’Twas also possible that he had been so overcome and grief-stricken that he was left paralyzed with sadness. Even she had to scoff at that idea. Nay, the Caelen she knew would have come to fight for her.

  Why hadn’t he? Not so much as a letter of good wishes for her. Nothing. Mayhap he was so angry that it had taken Phillip, Kenneth and ten men to tie him up and lock him in the dungeon until after the wedding. She could just imagine Kenneth suggesting it. She knew he did not like her much and keeping Caelen locked away until after the wedding, until nothing could be done about it, was just the sort of thing he would do.

  In the end, it didn’t really matter. She wasn’t marrying Bhruic. And there was no way she could be with Caelen.

  Still, it would have been nice had the man she loved shown some sign, a small gesture of some sort that he objected to her marrying another man.

  Combing her hair out with her fingers, she cursed under her breath. “What did ye expect, Fiona? Ye broke the poor man’s heart, and yer own in the process. Do ye really think he’d come runnin’ just to have ye break it again?” Nay, not even Caelen McDunnah was that tetched.

  Sixteen

  Caelen had never shown any animal such disregard as he did now. Tearing across the Highlands at breakneck speed, he was determined to stop Fiona from marrying. Pushing his mount beyond its limits, its sleek coat slathered in foam as Caelen urged it on further.

  Hours away from Fiona’s keep, Brodie pulled up alongside him. “Caelen, ye’ll kill that fine horse if ye do no’ slow down. Then I fear, I’ll have to kill ye fer showin’ it no mercy.”

  Caelen pulled back slightly, knowing Brodie was right. Like a berzerker determined to fulfill his quest, ’twas difficult for Caelen to remain calm. If he judged the time correctly, he was going to miss his one and only opportunity to keep Fiona from marrying this man named Bhruic.

  “Phillip be there, Caelen,” Brodie said for what seemed the hundredth time. “He has strict orders to take whatever measures are necessary to keep Fiona from the altar.”

  For Phillip’s sake, he hoped Brodie was right. For if he did not arrive in time, and Phillip hadn’t been able to delay the wedding, Caelen would be left with no choice but to kill him.

  * * *

  Isabelle and Mairi looked quite proud of their accomplishments. “Ye look beautiful, Fiona!” Mairi exclaimed.

  Dressed in the beautiful green gown, with the McPherson plaid draped across her shoulder, her hair combed and styled in curls and ringlets, Fiona never felt more out of place or at unease. She fidgeted with the bodice, pulling it up and tucking her breasts in, she felt half-naked. “Yer cruel women, ye ken that, don’t ye?” she said as she continued to make attempts to cover her bare skin.

  “Ye look beautiful,” Mairi said, ignoring Fiona’s complaints.

  “But I be no’ the one marryin’ this day,” Fiona told them as she reached for her belt and sword.

  “Nay!” Isabelle said as she grabbed the sword from Fiona’s grasp. “Ye canna go to the church as if ye were armed for battle.”

  Fiona rolled her eyes. “Were it a man givin’ Alyse away, ye’d no’ argue him donnin’ his sword.”

  “But ye already have yer sgian dubhs hidden under the dress and in the sleeves,” Mairi argued.

  Fiona twisted the sword out of Isabelle’s hands. “Aye, I have me sgian dubhs and I’ll wear me sword. I’ll no’ argue it further.”

  Mairi let out a frustrated breath and threw her hands up in defeat. “Verra well then, Fiona.”

  Fiona wrapped the leather belt around her waist then draped the length of plaid over the sword. “See? Ye can barely see it,” she told her sisters-in-law.

  “I do no’ see why ye feel the need to arm yerself. ’Tis a weddin’ for heaven’s sake,” Isabelle said.

  “Aye, ’tis a weddin’ and the kirk will be filled with all manner of people. Some of whom might wish to do us harm. I’ll no’ pretend all is well and go anywhere unarmed.”

  Isabelle and Mairi, though not happy that she had insisted on arming herself to the teeth, could not blame her for wanting to be cautious. If the past weeks had proved anything, it was that they should not be caught with their arms down.

  “Now,” Fiona said as she clapped her hands together. “What say we go get Alyse and Bhruic married.”

  * * *

  “I should no’ have let ye talk me in to fresh horses!” Caelen cursed at Kenneth and Brodie. “We wasted valuable time!”

  They had stopped in a village just a few hours east of McPherson lands for fresh horses. In truth, it really hadn’t taken them that far out of the way, but Caelen was too angry and too determined to listen to reason.

  “Aye, and if we hadn’t,” Kenneth began, “ye’d have ended up havin’ to walk all the way to Brodie’s keep.”

  He knew it was true, but at the moment, he did not care. His sole and only focus was to get to the McPherson keep and stop this bloody wedding.

  What on earth had possessed Fiona to agree to marry this MacKinnon? It could not be love, of that he was certain. Nay, she must be marrying under duress. Mayhap someone had kidnapped one of her brothers or sisters-in-law, or worse yet, her wee nephew, and the only way to secure their safety was to agree to marry. He had convinced himself ’twas the only thing that made a bit of sense.

  He would go to her, demand an explanation, and help her with whatever mess she was in. He would accept nothing less than the full truth. No matter how she would protest that she could take care of her own problems, he would insist on helping her. Even if it meant tying her to her bed, or locking her away in their oubliette. He was too angry to be above anything so harsh as locking her away.

  He would do whatever he must in order to ensure her safety.

  Seventeen

  Alyse looked stunning in her blue gown and the gossamer veil affixed to her beautiful blonde locks. Fiona stood beside her, holding her hand as they descended the stairs to the gathering room. Isabelle and William were waiting below, with Alyse’s young sons.

  “Mum!” her five-year-old son squealed with delight when he saw her. “Ye look pretty!”

  Alyse beamed at her boys who came running up to hug her. “Careful, now,” she said. “The dress be no’ mine. We do no’ want to ruin it.”

  The boys stepped away and apologized. “No worries, lads,” Fiona told them. “Are ye ready to lead us to the kirk?”

  The boys nodded excitedly and took their positions in front of Fiona and Alyse. “Verra good, lads,” Fiona praised them for standing so tall and proud. “Now remember, do no’ go too fast.”

  William and Isabelle came over and stood in front of the boys. “Are we ready?” William asked with a glance first to Alyse and then to Fiona.

  “I believe so,” Alyse said, her eyes beginning to fill with tears of joy. She whispered to Fiona, “I canna believe this is truly happenin’!”

  Fiona gave her hand a gentle squeeze before nodding at William to begin their procession to the kirk.

  * * *

  Their tiny kirk was filled to capacity. People lined the walls and spilled out into the yard, to watch Alyse and Bhruic marry. Fiona felt quite certain that none cared too much who was being married today, for the celebration was going to be grand either way.

  To date, she had seen five brides down the aisle since assuming the role of chi
ef. But this was the first time for a ceremony or celebration of this grandeur. Typically, ’twas just her clan in attendance, and the kirk was big enough to hold anyone who wanted to attend.

  But with four other chiefs and their people in attendance this day, the kirk couldn’t hold them all. Still, it was a momentous and happy occasion.

  William and Isabelle led the way down the aisle to the altar. Bhruic was waiting, a proud smile painted on his face. Father Thomas, an aulder priest from a neighboring village was here to officiate. He waited for William and Isabelle to make their way toward the front, before giving a slight nod for the two boys to begin.

  Fiona was happy for this little family, for the bride she was going to give away in just a few short moments. She refused to be jealous or to think of Caelen and what might have been between them. This was Alyse and Bhruic’s day, not hers.

  As soon as the boys were at the altar, standing next to Isabelle, Fiona began to lead Alyse down. “Yer certain ye want to marry that man?” Fiona whispered, tongue in cheek.

  Alyse smiled, unable to take her eyes from Bhruic. “Aye, I be certain.”

  Fiona gave her hand another gentle squeeze and soon, they were standing before the priest. The auld man, looked out at the overflowing kirk and smiled. “Ye may be seated.”

  A quiet rustling of people taking their seats fell over the kirk. Somewhere near the back, Fiona could hear wee Symon cooing and making noises, quickly followed by Mairi quietly shushing him.

  “We are gathered here today,” the priest began in a loud voice that belied his small stature. “To celebrate and bless the union between Bhruic MacKinnon and Alyse McPherson. ’Tis a momentous and joyous occasion, one that should not be entered into lightly.”

  Fiona glanced at Bhruic who looked as proud as a peacock, wearing his best tunic, trews and MacKinnon plaid. He could not take his eyes from his bride. For a brief moment, Fiona felt a pang of remorse, for he looked at Alyse the way Caelen had once looked at her.

  The priest asked everyone to bow their heads as he said a blessing over the couple. When he finished, he looked at Fiona and asked, “Who gives this bride to Bhruic today?”

  Before Fiona could utter a single word, a shout came out from behind her.

  “No one gives away the bride!”

  Fiona cringed as she heard heavy footsteps stomping down the aisle. ’Twas Caelen. He picked a fine bloody time to show up! She cursed before turning around to look at him.

  He was furious. His face was purple with rage, his eyes fine slits, his jaw clenching as he stomped toward the altar. Well, she thought, that answers the question on how he felt about me marryin’ Bhruic.

  Before she could utter a word, Caelen was standing between her and the groom. If looks could kill, Bhruic would have burst into flames from the furious glare Caelen was giving him. Poor Bhruic looked quite confused.

  “Caelen, what are ye doin’ here?” Fiona whispered harshly.

  “I’ve come to stop ye from makin’ the biggest mistake of yer life,” he ground out as he continued to stare at Bhruic.

  “Fiona, who is this?” Bhruic asked.

  Caelen gave her no time to answer. “I take it ye be the groom?”

  Bhruic nodded as his eyes darted between Fiona and Caelen.

  “The only reason ye still breathe, MacKinnon, is because we be in a kirk. I suggest ye keep yer mouth shut.”

  “Good lord, Caelen,” Fiona said. “I will speak to ye after the ceremony, now go!”

  “No’ bloody likely,” Caelen said before picking Fiona up and tossing her over his shoulder.

  In the blink of an eye, Fiona could hear swords being drawn from all quarters. “Caelen, put me down ye fool!” she yelled as he stomped toward the exit.

  “No’ bloody likely.”

  She pounded a fist against his back as he came to an abrupt halt. She could not see what or who it was that stopped his forward progression. “Out of me way, Collin,” Caelen ground out.

  “I do no’ think so,” Collin answered. Fiona didn’t need to see her brother, to know he was blocking the way out, probably with his sword drawn and murder in his eyes. She lifted herself up, placing her hands on Caelen’s shoulders. She could see all the swords glinting in the afternoon light, the murderous expressions on countless faces. She sighed and said, “Hold!” before anyone made an attempt to kill Caelen.

  As best as she could, she turned slightly, still unable to see Collin. “Brother, he’ll no’ hurt me, step out of the way so that I might speak with the bloody eejit!”

  A long moment passed before she heard Collin step away. Caelen thundered out of the kirk and headed across the yard. People from within the kirk spilled out, mouths agape, uncertain what, if anything they should do.

  “I will be fine!” she reassured them. She was not at all fearful of Caelen. He would do nothing to harm her. And even though she was quite glad for his foolish display, it irked her to no end that he would not listen to her command to be set down.

  “Caelen, put me down so we can discuss this like two mature intelligent adults.”

  Before she knew it, she was being unceremoniously tossed off his shoulder and handed up and onto the back of a horse, that also happened to be occupied by Kenneth. “Fergive me, Fiona,” Kenneth said as he took a tight hold of her waist.

  “Caelen McDunnah!” she shouted after him. He was stomping toward his own horse. Surrounding her were several McDunnah men on horseback, and her brother Brodie. Confusion and anger set it.

  “Caelen McDunnah! I demand that ye put a halt to this nonsense at once!” She yelled across the yard at him. He mounted, spun his horse around and called back to her, “No’ bloody likely.”

  Prologue

  Prologe to A Breath of Promise

  “Are ye armed?” Phillip asked as he wrapped an arm around her waist and tapped the flanks of his horse.

  Fiona turned her head slightly to look him in the eye. “I be always armed,” she reminded him, her words clipped and sharp. Her sword was within reach. One sgian dubh was carefully hidden in her left sleeve while two more were strapped to her thighs. Though she could very well have threatened Phillip with his life if he didn’t stop and let her down, the person toward whom she really wished to vent her anger was riding ahead of them.

  “Can I have yer word ye will no’ gut me?” he asked as they galloped across the yard.

  “I may no’ gut ye, but as fer Caelen?” Nay, she couldn’t make that promise.

  “I be sorry fer this, Fiona,” Phillip said. He did sound remorseful as well as a wee fearful. They were racing toward the gate.

  “He loves ye, Fiona. Ye canna gut a man that loves ye.”

  She might not gut him completely, but she couldn’t necessarily promise she wouldn’t make a few pointed cuts here and there.

  “Where are ye takin’ me?” she demanded.

  Phillip remained silent as they followed Caelen, Brodie and a dozen other men through the gate. Another dozen McDunnah men brought up the rear. The ground thundered with the reverberation of dozens of horses galloping across the land.

  “Has he lost his mind?” Fiona asked through gritted teeth.

  “Aye, I be afraid he has.”

  She continued to seethe while she watched Caelen tear across the countryside like a madman. When I get me hands on that man… Though she could not blame Caelen for being angry, that was no reason for him to kidnap her like this. ’Twas too ridiculous for words. ’Twas all anyone needed to prove the man was completely and unequivocally insane. Just what he thought to gain by this act of madness was beyond her.

  “Where on earth are we goin’?” she asked, growing angrier and angrier.

  Phillip turned mute again and urging their mount to go faster. The farther they rode from her keep the more infuriated she became. She already knew Caelen loved her and he knew that she knew. What then was the purpose of interrupting the wedding ceremony and stealing her away like this? Several long moments passed and she began to realize
they were heading for McDunnah lands. More likely than not, Caelen’s keep.

  No’ bloody likely.

  Carefully, Fiona removed the sgian dubh from her sleeve. Once she had a firm grip on it, she slowly turned as best she could to face Phillip. “Ye will stop this horse at once.”

  Phillip ignored her.

  “I give ye one more chance, Phillip,” she warned him as she placed the blade of the sgian dubh against his throat.

  “Bloody hell,” he murmured. “Put that away.”

  “No’ bloody likely,” she smiled up at him. “Stop this horse now.”

  Phillip’s nostrils flared as his face turned red with anger. A moment later, he pulled rein. “He will kill me fer this.”

  Fiona knew as well as Phillip did that Caelen wouldn’t truly take his life. Once the horse came to a halt, Fiona tossed her leg over and slid down. Phillip followed her.

  The men who had been following them pulled up as well, all of them looking utterly baffled. One of them asked, “Why did ye stop?” Before Phillip could answer, the young man spotted the sgian dubh in Fiona’s hand.

  “Ye didna search her first?” he asked.

  Phillip rolled his eyes. “Would ye like to search her?” he ground out. The color left the young man’s face. “What should we do?”

  Phillip raked a hand across his face as he watched Fiona begin to pace back and forth. “We wait until our insane chief realizes we have stopped.”

  The men remained mounted and they, too, began to watch Fiona pace back and forth.

  They had travelled far enough that she could barely make out her keep in the distance. ’Twas not too far a distance to walk if she had to. In the opposite direction, Caelen and the others were still heading toward McDunnah lands. She stopped pacing and turned to face Phillip. “What on earth possessed him to do this?”