The Laird's Bastard Daughter (The Highland Warlord Series Book 1)

by Tessa Murran

  ‘I have no reason to trust in you. Any man can go back on his word, and it’s not as if you’ve ever been kind or even cared for me.’

  ‘Aye, well let’s speak plain then. I never told you this before, but I loved your mother with all my heart. She was beautiful, beguiling, casting a spell on me that only death could break. But I have never loved you, in fact, I suspicion you are not really mine. When we were together, I was sure she had another man somewhere, I could feel it, though I never knew with any certainty. ‘She has your eyes,’ she insisted, but I have never been able to see myself in you, only your mother. When she brought you before me and begged on her knees for me to take you, I almost spurned her. But then you came up to me and grabbed hold of my hand and, though I tried to shake you off, skinny little thing that you were, you would not let go. You held on to my fingers like a vice, and I softened. It was weak, I should not have done it and so now, years later, here we stand. You owe me this sacrifice Ravenna, and if you won’t do it for me, do it for Brandan.’

  ‘What has he to do with this?’

  ‘Who do you think cut him down that day up at Glencoe Pass,’ said Baodan, triumphantly.

  ‘No, you are lying.’

  ‘I swear by all that’s holy, I am not. Cormac Buchanan’s sword is soaked in your lover’s blood. Do you want to avenge him or not?’

  Ravenna turned away from her father so he could not see her struggle to compose herself. Brandan’s killer, she could take revenge on him. Many a time, she had lain awake at night, dreaming of doing just that. This was a chance to free herself from her purgatory, avenge her Brandan and, if she secured a wealthy husband, get out from under her father’s boot once and for all.

  All the time she had been locked away, Ravenna had been absolutely sure it would be over one day. Her father had not allowed them to shave her head like the other novices, he had kept her pretty, he had made sure she was well-fed, and he sent men to check on her from time to time, though he never came himself. She was of use in some way, she did not know how, but she did know her father, and he never discarded anything which he could make use of, be it information, land, affection or people. So Ravenna had endured her punishment patiently, as a spider sits in its web, waiting for the pull on the silky thread that would take her out of her dormancy and set her on whatever course fate had laid out for her. Today it had finally come.

  Her father’s voice was persuasive as it echoed around the courtyard.

  ‘You have to trust in me sometime, or do you enjoy your degradation here? Make your choice Ravenna, as Scotland and its clans must make their choice. You stand at a crossroads here.’

  Chapter Three

  The gates of Mauldsmyre, stronghold of Clan Gowan, loomed up ahead and Cormac’s heart sank. He was a man condemned, but it was too late to back out now.

  ‘I’ll wager my life, he’ll give you the ugliest one,’ laughed Lyall.

  ‘Shut your mouth, or I will ask if there are any spare daughters for you,’ snapped Fearghas. ‘It’s high time you wed and got some sons to carry on my name.’

  ‘Christ, Father, I’m only twenty-three, let me have some years of freedom first.’

  ‘Enjoy it while you can Lyall, for there’s little joy to be had in marriage,’ said Cormac bitterly.

  ‘So, you expect joy in wedlock, boy?’ Fearghas glowered at his eldest son.

  Cormac sighed. He was five years older than his loose-tongued brother, and decades older in experience, battle-hardened and world-weary, and yet still, his father would insist on calling him ‘boy’.

  ‘Did I raise a warrior or a fool?’ continued Fearghas. ‘Power, wealth, duty and clan come first. The purpose of marriage is to keep safe all of those things, not to enjoy yourself. You may not want a Gowan girl, Christ knows I don’t, for she’ll be a snake in our bosom, but you will grit your teeth and take what is offered, and it will be meagre, have no doubt about it. But hear me, whatever is waiting for you in that castle, you will wed it and bed it and be true to the King’s command.’

  When they reached the gates, they were kept waiting outside for quite some time, while Fearghas worked himself up into a rage of impatience.

  ‘Do they mean to leave us out here all day?’ snapped Ramsay, his father’s taskman, who had been complaining bitterly, all the way to Mauldsmyre. ‘It’s an insult.’

  ‘Of course, it is,’ said Cormac, tired of his whining.

  ‘I reckon we’ll be lucky if they don’t murder us in our beds,’ said Lyall, and Cormac shot him a look. He needed to silence that loose tongue of his.

  Eventually, the gates creaked open, and Baodan strode forth.

  ‘Your hospitality is somewhat lacking, Baodan,’ said Fearghas.

  ‘I don’t intend to be hospitable to a pack of wolves, so you’ll get none from me. You will not spend one night on my land or in my keep. Let us proceed to the kirk immediately and get this sham over with.’

  ‘But we have had a long journey with a night in the open, we must eat and drink and wash.’

  ‘No, you will come inside and wed my daughter now, and take her away at once, or you’ll not wed her at all.’

  With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, and they had no choice but to follow, Fearghas hurling around the most awful curse words the whole time. Lyall, thankfully, said nothing, but he seemed on edge and alert.

  Cormac looked on them with irritation. Why on earth had they expected anything else from a sworn enemy? They would be lucky to leave this place alive, as they had but a small party of men with them and were deep in enemy territory. And why were his father and brother complaining when it was him who was putting his head in the noose? Cormac tried to remain calm in the face of Baodan’s blatant insult to them. Why give him the satisfaction of seeing it hit its mark?

  ***

  Ravenna stood in her chamber being fussed over by Beigis, who was busily twisting ribbons through her hair, which was plaited at the front and coiled around her head like a crown. The rest swung down almost to her waist, loose, as befitted a virgin in her purity. Her father had insisted on the pretence. He had also given her a fine tunic in a rich burgundy, embroidered with gold thread. She was surprised he had not clothed her in rags to add insult to injury for the Buchanan’s, but he had insisted that she wear it. ‘No Gowan will bring shame to me on her wedding day, you must look the part of the worthy bride, even though you are not,’ he had said.

  Beigis’ stomach, hard with the bairn inside it, pushed against Ravenna’s back as she fiddled with her hair and prattled on about this person or that person being married. All the girls with whom Ravenna had giggled and dreamed on that St Agnes eve were wed already. Indeed, her friend was on her second pregnancy.

  ‘There, you are a vision, and your husband will feel he is a lucky man.’

  ‘We both know that is not true, Beigis.’

  Her friend bit her lip, and her face fell. ‘Don’t Ravenna. Don’t say that. Your wedding day is supposed to be a joyful thing, the first step in your journey to womanhood.’

  ‘It is an ordeal, I haven’t even met him, what if he is awful?’

  ‘He may not be as bad as you think. He may have kindness and honour in him, and if he does, you may yet find some happiness. At least with Cormac Buchanan, you will have your own household and get away from your father’s cruelty. It has to be better than the convent, surely?

  The door opened, and Ravenna caught her breath, surely it was not yet, surely she had a few more moments to brace herself.

  Coira sauntered into the room. ‘Cormac Buchanan has come. He stands at the altar, waiting for his bride.’

  There was a triumphant smile on her face, and it was clear she had come to gloat.

  ‘Oh, don’t look at me like that, Ravenna, I have come to wish you well on your wedding day,’ she sneered. When Ravenna said nothing, she continued. ‘You don’t still hate me, do you?’

  ‘Still hate you? Aye, of course, I do, and I always will. I have nurtured that hate,
suckled it like a babe at my breast in the hope that one day we will settle the score. If it weren’t for your spite, father would never have found out about Brandan and me, and he wouldn’t have punished him by sending him out to die.’

  Coira retaliated. ‘What a brute Cormac Buchanan is, all dark and angry. I got a look at him. He is ill-favoured in looks, rough, dirty and wild. He looks like an animal, and I’ll wager he ruts like one too. You have my sympathies Ravenna, having to lie under such a one, having to take his poisonous seed inside you.’

  ‘Better a Buchanan than your fat maggot of a husband,’ said Ravenna.

  Coira had recently wed a wealthy ally of her father’s. Ravenna had observed him in the few days she had spent at Mauldsmyre preparing for her wedding. Though the man was wealthy and grand, a man of influence, it was plain to see that he was also dissolute, drunken and vile. Coira had always been spiteful, but it seemed she would not find any joy in life at her husband’s greasy hands, and that was some justice at least.

  ‘I hate you Ravenna, you are nothing but a filthy bastard and Cormac Buchanan is getting what he deserves. I hope you both rot in hell,’ screeched Coira, turning and slamming the door on her way out.

  When she had gone, Beigis shook her head. ‘May the devil take her, she’s lying, I am sure of it. There, see how lovely you look.’

  Ravenna looked at herself in the polished bronze mirror held up to her. The cloudy reflection staring back at her was strange, as if it did not belong to her. There was no emotion on that serene countenance, but inside, she wanted to scream with the sheer terror suddenly gripping her.

  ‘It will be alright, Ravenna. I will pray for you every day,’ said Beigis.

  ‘You will need to, for Cormac Buchanan won’t want me any more than I want him,’ said Ravenna, gulping down her nerves.

  No one else came to wish her well and see her off, and so she waited tensely with Beigis until they came for her.

  When she got to the kirk, Ravenna saw before her a group of men standing with her father and she had to force her legs forward.

  She could barely look at them. Oh God, which of this pack of hounds was to be her husband? Which of these men, covered in muck from the road, would step forward and claim her, like a prize? Or was she more a burden, for she knew full well that no Buchanan would ever want her?

  As she walked forward on trembling legs, a handsome man, young but imposing, looked at her with keen interest. He wasn’t so bad, his expression was kind, and there was admiration in his eyes. Then he stepped aside, to reveal a man behind him. This other one was taller, darker and wild-looking. ‘Like a beast’, Coira had said. With a heart sinking to her toes, Ravenna realised he must be Cormac Buchanan, not the one with gentle eyes, but this one, who was looking at her with a face like thunder.

  ***

  Cormac stood at the altar in the kirk watching the breath leave his mouth in a white fog, in spite of the sun streaming in through the open shutters. He heard the door open and turned to see his bride for the first time. He caught his breath.

  A dark red tunic clung to a curvaceous body, not entirely concealed in the fur-lined cloak slung about her shoulders as protection from the cold. She was tall, graceful, and possessed of a fierce beauty, and Cormac was struck by her at once. If this was Baodan’s ugliest daughter, the others must have beauty to spare.

  Her hair was unremarkable in colour, the black-brown of peat, but more glossy than the fur collar of the cloak she wore. It fell over the full curve of her breasts in thick, gentle waves and for a moment he imagined what it would feel like, falling against him. As she swept closer, he caught sight of her eyes, luminous, slightly hooded and a striking blue-grey.

  This young woman was certainly not modest. Those eyes bore right into his, and so he let nothing show on his face, not delight at how fair she was, nor disappointment at her obvious displeasure at this whole affair. As he held her gaze in his, and she refused to look away, Cormac was disconcerted. She seemed to have an iron will but, when he stepped forward to claim her, she swallowed hard and cast her eyes down.

  With the chance to have a good look at her, he found her face pleasing, even in its scowl, heart-shaped, narrowing to a determined chin. Her eyebrows were darker than her hair, drawing him in to those compelling eyes. She had a tiny mole, just at the corner of her mouth, and it drew his gaze to her lips, tempting and full, under an up-tilted, delicate nose.

  She looked bonnie, she looked miserable, and she looked every inch the Gowan bitch.

  Cormac opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off.

  ‘Come together and let’s get this done,’ snarled Baodan, snapping his fingers at the priest.

  When Cormac took hold of her hands, the woman flinched and stared up at him with wide eyes. Her cheeks reddened when he held her eyes with his, but still, she refused to look away from him. This was no gentle angel of a woman. Those grey eyes were hard and knowing, they were judging him, he was sure of it. Something stirred in him, confusion, anger and a sudden throb of desire. What the hell was wrong with him? She was Baodan Gowan’s daughter for God’s sake.

  ‘Your name?’ snapped Cormac, feeling off-balance and irritated with her, for no good reason.

  ‘Ravenna, my name is Ravenna,’ she replied steadily, in a low, husky voice.

  ‘Ravenna?’ hissed Ramsay. ‘This is not right, Lord,’ he said to Cormac. ‘This one here is his bastard, born out of wedlock …to his whore.’ He pointed angrily at Baodan.

  ‘Silence your dog, Buchanan, before I geld him,’ snarled Baodan.

  Cormac glanced down at Ravenna, who snatched her hands from his as she gave Ramsay a look that could kill.

  Ramsay continued complaining furiously to Cormac. ‘I will speak, for she’s illegitimate,’ he spat. ‘I heard he had a bastard tucked away somewhere. Gowan means to foist an unworthy bride off on you.’

  ‘No, this is not what we agreed,’ growled Fearghas.

  ‘It is exactly as we agreed,’ shouted Baodan. ‘I told the king you could have one of my daughters, and so I am giving you one, and it is a far greater honour than you deserve.’

  ‘Is she a bastard?’ asked Cormac through gritted teeth.

  ‘She is, but I would die before I’d waste one of my other daughters on a Buchanan.’

  The insult burned through Cormac and anger tightened his throat. A bastard? His eyes flicked to the girl in front of him. She seemed to have shrunk into herself as their words swirled around her. She was like a statue. Everyone else seemed to think she was invisible, and nobody had any mind for her feelings, least of all her father who continued to insult him.

  ‘Even the worst bastard child of mine is too good for the likes of you, Cormac Buchanan,’ sneered Baodan.

  ‘This is not what we agreed. You have gone back on your word,’ said Cormac.

  ‘Aye, you filthy liar, you whoreson, you have lied, to your King. He will have your head for this. You gave an oath, and you have broken it,’ hissed Fearghas.

  No one gave any ground. On and on, they all went, shouting at each other.

  Cormac tried to calm his anger. He noticed that the girl, Ravenna, did not flinch at the word bastard, circling around. Why was that? Most young girls on their wedding day had romantic notions of love and chivalry filling their heads. They would hope for a husband who would be stunned by their beauty and whisper flattering words to them, while they blushed and lowered their eyes. They would have been mortified at such haggling over their worth. But not the tiniest bit of that mortification showed on her face, it was frozen as if none of this was of the least interest to her.

  He was intrigued by her icy control and, for some insane reason, he decided, at that moment, that he would not leave without her.

  Fearghas’s blood was up, and there was no stopping him. ‘Is it not enough that we have to taint our family with Gowan poison, must we also suffer to have a whore for my son’s wife?’ he snapped.

  Cormac heard the scrape of swords against scabba
rds. Any minute now they would have knives at their throats.

  ‘Father,’ growled Cormac, ‘no one is suggesting she is a whore and nor will you.’

  ‘Put away your blades, I beg you, this is a holy place,’ squealed the priest, obviously fearing a blood bath.

  Cormac turned to Baodan. ‘You have been true to the letter of your oath, but not to the spirit of it, but I had no illusions, coming here today, that I would be getting the finest of your daughters. Tell me true, and swear before witnesses, that this woman sprung from your loins, that she is indeed your daughter, with Gowan blood in her veins, and not some poor wretch you have dragged up out of the mud to wed me.’

  ‘She is my daughter, I swear it, so you are honour bound to take her or break your oath to the King,’ smirked Baodan.

  ‘Honour, you dare speak of honour. I should rip your head off your shoulders for this deception. But I gave my oath, and I will keep it. There will be time, in the future, for me to teach you the meaning of honour, Baodan.’

  ‘I will not stand for your impudence in my hall, Cormac Buchanan. You have the right to refuse her, and then I will go to the King, and he will know you do not have the backbone to be loyal.’

  ‘In that case, we’d best get on with it,’ said Cormac snatching hold of Ravenna’s hands and clutching them tightly as, with one thunderous look and a nod of his head, he bid the priest continue.

  ‘But Lord, I think we should…given that there is dispute…’ muttered the priest.

  ‘I said get on with it!’ bellowed Cormac, his voice echoing back at him off the walls of the kirk.

  Cormac was seized by murderous rage. Baodan might have taken him for a fool this time, but they would clash again, and he could plan a suitable revenge for this insult. Neither of the parties to this agreement had any illusions that it was a permanent means of settling the score between them. But the King had commanded it, to show the other clans that he would unify them, and so they’d never really had a choice in the matter. What happened after they defeated their common enemy, no one knew.

  Minutes later, it was all said and done. He was wed to a woman who was not what he had been promised, half low-born, and obviously hating his guts. He tossed free Ravenna’s hands and stormed out of the hall with his brother, his father and his new wife trailing behind him.