To Marry a Scottish Laird

by Lynsay Sands

  Joan flushed and ducked her head with embarrassment. She suspected the man would be less welcoming if he knew the circumstances behind the marriage, but had no intention of telling him what they were.

  "Well, come, let's move this inside and get off these stairs before someone else tumbles down 'em," Laird Sinclair said gruffly, taking Joan's arm to usher her inside.

  Joan went willingly, but glanced over her shoulder as she did. Kenna and Annella were directly behind her, and Cam was behind them with his mother on one arm and a younger blonde who looked much like his mother on his other arm. His sister, Aileen, Joan guessed. The rest of the women followed silently, unhappy expressions on their faces. She couldn't blame them. Cam was handsome, smart and kind. She would guess that put him head and shoulders above most of the men out there who were not already betrothed or married.

  Joan turned her face forward again, but couldn't help wondering where Lady Sinclair had found so many pretty young women. Weddings were arranged while noble children were still in swaddling, or at least while they were still young. To be available to marry, these women had to be either widowed, or still single because they were unlucky enough that their betrothed died ere marrying them. She wouldn't have thought there'd be that many young and pretty woman available and close enough to make it to Sinclair before them.

  Although, they had taken more than two weeks to get here thanks to their dallying, Joan recalled. She supposed that was long enough for messengers to be sent and women to have traveled from as far away as England.

  "So ye're Annabel and Ross's niece?"

  Joan glanced to Laird Sinclair and nodded at that question as they crossed the great hall, heading for the trestle tables.

  "Yer accent is English, lass. Ye were raised there?" the Sinclair asked.

  "Aye," Joan answered.

  "Well, ne'er fear," the Sinclair said, patting her hand where it rested on his arm. "We'll no' hold that against ye."

  "Oh," Joan said nonplussed, and then added an uncertain, "Thank you?"

  Nodding, he ushered her to the table and saw her seated, then settled beside her before glancing around until his gaze landed on his daughter. "Aileen, go tell the servants to bring ale and mead fer everyone, and warn them we ha'e guests fer dinner."

  "Aye, Father," Cam's sister murmured and moved off to do her father's bidding.

  "So." Laird Sinclair turned back to Joan. "Tell me about your journey. Ye saved me son?"

  "Oh, well, in truth he saved me first," Joan said honestly.

  "Her traveling party was beset by a gang o' bandits," Cam said, drawing her gaze to where he was seating his mother on the other side of his father.

  Traveling party? Joan thought and stared at him blankly.

  "By the time I arrived, Joan was facing four o' them alone," he added, moving around to settle in the empty space next to her so that she was sandwiched between him and his father. Her cousins Kenna and Annella had left room for him, and Douglas had settled on Annella's far side.

  "Took out her soldiers, did they?" the Sinclair asked, not seeming surprised. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Englishmen."

  "Ye intervened, son?" his mother asked as her daughter returned and settled next to her.

  Cam nodded. "Aye. I could hardly leave such a brave lass to be beaten and assaulted by four big men. I took out three o' them, but was stabbed in the back in the doing. I thought sure the fourth would finish me, but Joan grabbed up a knife from one o' the other men and stabbed him."

  "Smart lass," Laird Sinclair complimented, patting her shoulder.

  Joan forced a smile, and then glanced to Cam as he continued.

  "I was felled by me wound. Slept three days. She sewed me up, tended and guarded me the whole while. Then she saw me back to health when I woke. Had she no' done that, I'm sure I would ha'e died there, alone, on the side o' the trail." He turned and smiled at Joan, his hand moving to cover hers on the tabletop and squeeze before he continued, "When I learned she was traveling to MacKay, I offered her me escort."

  "And fell in love along the way so ye married her when ye reached MacKay."

  Joan blinked and glanced toward his sister when she sighed those words. The young woman beamed at her, popped up from her seat and rushed around to hug her from behind. "Welcome, sister. We are fortunate to ha'e ye in our family."

  "Thank you," Joan murmured, automatically raising a hand to pat the arm around her neck, but her gaze was on Cam.

  "Me sister, Aileen," Cam said with amusement.

  " 'Tis so romantic," Kenna said now, drawing Joan's gaze to where her cousin sat with her sister on the other side of Cam. "I can no' believe no one told us this ere now."

  "Aye," Annella agreed, and then smiled wryly and added, "Although, we did no' really give anyone the chance. We were so happy to learn we had a cousin and to meet her we hurried off to find her ere Father could ha'e, and then there was all the rush arranging the wedding feast, and then the wedding itself . . ." Annella shrugged. "Everything has been a bit rushed since they arrived."

  "Why was it all so rushed?"

  Joan stiffened and glanced toward the woman who had spoken, one of the ladies she had guessed were possible brides for Cam. She was the tallest of the prospective brides, with long black hair, a thin but pretty face and a plunging neckline on her dark red gown. A widow, Joan guessed, sure an untried woman wouldn't bare so much flesh.

  Having garnered everyone's attention, the woman shrugged delicately. "Laird and Lady Sinclair were no' even given the chance to attend. Surely ye could ha'e waited a day for them to be sent for? Or ye could ha'e held the wedding here. After all, Lady MacKay and her daughters traveled here with ye. Then no one would ha'e missed the wedding."

  "Father would ha'e missed it," Kenna put in.

  Ignoring the girl's comment, the dark-haired woman raised her eyebrows and asked, "If Lady Joan's traveling party was killed by the bandits, did the two o' ye travel alone the rest o' the way? Without e'en a maid fer chaperone?"

  The insinuation was impossible to miss. The wedding had been necessary to save Joan's reputation, and she was right of course, Joan thought unhappily bowing her head.

  " 'Tis my fault we married so quickly," Cam said grimly, his hand moving to Joan's back and rubbing soothingly. "I was eager to get home and reassure everyone I was well, but I wanted to bring Joan as me wife. 'Sides, 'tis me second wedding so I saw no reason fer a big fuss."

  "Aye, but did ye travel alone with her the rest o' the way?" the black-haired woman repeated insistently, apparently determined to force the admission that this marriage had been forced by circumstance.

  "Finola!" Lady Sinclair snapped, and Joan guessed that was the black-haired bitch's name, because she reluctantly turned her gaze to Cam's mother, one eyebrow arching in question. Lady Sinclair glared at Finola for a full minute before saying, "How circumstances forced them to travel does no' matter. They are married now, and as much as I would ha'e liked to be there fer the wedding, I'm jest glad me son found someone he was willing to marry. The good Lord kens I was failing miserably at the task, obviously picking all the wrong women to tempt him with."

  Finola's eyes narrowed at what could have been construed as an insult, and then she smiled coldly and turned to Joan to ask, "How were ye available to marry? Or were ye? Is there a betrothed out there somewhere who will be disappointed?"

  "Nay," Joan said quietly. "I didn't have--"

  "We had not yet had the chance to arrange a betrothal for my niece," Annabel announced, approaching the table with Aiden on her heels. Joan glanced to her, noting the anger on her face, and could only assume she'd heard a good part of the conversation as she'd come below.

  "Which was me son's good fortune," Laird Sinclair said firmly, and then stood up as he added, "Now, I suspect our new guests would like to retire for a rest after the long journey here, and I ken me wife has some messages to send." He cast a glance to Lady Sinclair that seemed to be full of meaning as he said that and she nodded, expres
sion grim. "In the meantime, I would ha'e a word with me sons, so . . ." He arched his eyebrows expectantly and the women all got up. Aiden immediately settled where his mother had been.

  "I'll show ye to yer rooms ere I start me messages," Lady Sinclair announced, smiling from Joan to her aunt and cousins as she ushered the women away from the table. Her gaze then shifted to the other women before moving to her daughter as she suggested, "Aileen, perhaps ye can take the other ladies to the solar to relax?"

  "Aye, Mother," Cam's sister said easily and started for the stairs.

  Most of the women smiled and nodded and rushed after her. Finola, however, paused to sneer at Joan before following the others at a much more sedate pace.

  Lady Sinclair scowled after the woman, and then sighed and forced a smile as she turned to Joan and her aunt and cousins. "All the rooms are taken up just now with . . ." She waved vaguely toward the women disappearing up the stairs. "Howbeit, Cam's room is available fer ye to clean up and rest in and, hopefully, I can have rooms available fer ye quickly."

  " 'Tis fine," Annabel assured her, slipping an arm through the other woman's as they started to walk across the great hall. "We arrived unexpectedly so shall be happy with what is available."

  "Bless ye, Annabel," Lady Sinclair murmured as they started up the stairs. "And bless ye fer having a niece me son was willing to marry. I was beginning to think I would never see the day he'd marry again."

  "That was entirely my sister," Annabel assured her. "She is the one who blessed us with Joan."

  "Aye, well, bless her then," Lady Sinclair said on a laugh.

  "Was it scary when yer party was beset by bandits?" Kenna asked suddenly, hooking her arm through Joan's as they followed the two older women.

  "Of course it was," Annella answered for her with a roll of the eyes. Slipping her own arm through Joan's free one, she added, " 'Twas brave o' ye to kill the fourth man. I do no' ken that I could ha'e done it."

  "Aye, 'twas very brave," Kenna agreed. "And how lucky Cam arrived to save ye."

  Joan merely nodded in agreement. She had certainly been lucky he'd appeared. Joan suspected Toothless would have beaten her to death if he hadn't.

  "Here we are," Lady Sinclair said a moment later as she showed them into Cam's room. "As I said, if we're lucky at least one or two o' the girls will leave by the day after next now that Cam is no longer available. It may take until the end of the week to be rid o' the rest, but at least they'll soon be gone." She had paused at the door, and now smiled at Joan as she moved past her into the room, adding, "We shall all be forever grateful to ye fer that."

  "Not enjoying the company, Bearnas?" Annabel asked with amusement.

  Lady Sinclair snorted at the suggestion. "I used to think it would ha'e been nice to ha'e a passel o' daughters, half a dozen or so, but this has opened me eyes quite a bit. 'Tis amazing how horrible females can be in herds. Most o' them ha'e been fine, but a couple o' them . . ." She shook her head with disgust. "Arguing, insulting each other, and e'en trying to sabotage another by cutting up gowns and such."

  Annabel arched an eyebrow. "Finola?"

  "Until yer arrival I would ha'e said no. Aileen said she'd overheard Finola insulting one o' the girls and that she was no' as nice as she seemed, but I did no' believe her at the time. The woman has acted as sweet as pie ever since arriving, always offering to help me, and wearing pretty, sedate gowns. Then Douglas returned with the news that Campbell was riding up with guests and the women were all aflutter. They all rushed to their rooms to freshen up. Me eyes nearly fell out o' me head when Finola came down in that gown she's wearing. And then the way she acted at the table . . ." Lady Sinclair shook her head. "It makes me wonder what the other girls are really like."

  "Hmmm," Lady Annabel murmured sympathetically, and Lady Sinclair sighed and shrugged.

  "I should go start writing me messages and sending them to the families. The sooner they send riding parties to collect their girls, the sooner they'll be gone." She turned to the door, adding, "I'll ha'e servants bring ye food and drink and water to wash with."

  "SO? TELL ME."

  Cam raised his eyebrows at his father's words, and then glanced around as servants rushed out of the kitchen with the requested drinks for everyone.

  "Leave a pitcher o' ale and four tankards here," Laird Sinclair ordered. "The rest go up to Cam's room and the solar."

  He waited for the servants to head up the stairs, and then turned and surveyed his three sons before settling his gaze on Cam. "The truth this time, lad. And all o' it so we ken what we're dealing with. Who is the girl?"

  Cam sat back slightly and took a drink o' ale, swallowed, then shrugged. "Most o' what I said was the truth. Joan is Laird and Lady Annabel's niece."

  "Impossible," Douglas said at once. "Neither Laird MacKay nor his wife had siblings."

  "Lady Annabel did," Cam's father said quietly. "Kate, her name was as I recall, and she caused a passel o' trouble fer those two back in the day."

  "What kind o' trouble?" Aiden asked.

  "The lass was the one originally contracted to marry the MacKay, but she ran off and married another. The parents presented him with Annabel in her place," Artair Sinclair recounted.

  "Sounds more like good fortune than trouble to me," Douglas commented. "Laird and Lady MacKay are very happy together."

  "Aye, they were from the start," their father murmured. "But then the sister, Kate, showed up at their door in tears, claiming she regretted her choice and such. It was all bullocks," he added dryly. "She just wanted her pie and the cake too. She wanted the Scottish stable boy she'd married and the MacKay coin as well. She cried her way into MacKay castle and her sister's good graces, then she and her man stole the coin and kidnapped Lady Annabel too."

  "What happened?" Aiden asked with fascination.

  "The MacKay caught up to them. He got Annabel and the coin back, but the husband was killed in the skirmish, and Kate was sent to an English abbey for punishment."

  "It does no' sound like much o' a punishment to me," Douglas muttered.

  "Nay?" Artair Sinclair asked with amusement. "We've had a passel o' women here at Sinclair this last week or more. How ha'e ye liked it?"

  Douglas grimaced. "It's been hell."

  "Aye, well imagine living with hundreds o' them, and ye can no' just get on yer horse and leave, no e'en for a minute's respite."

  "Oh, aye, that's punishment, all right," Aiden breathed, obviously horrified at the thought. Cam couldn't blame him. It had been hell the first time his mother had filled the keep with women. That was why he'd gone off to find work as a mercenary. Better war than a castle full of women.

  "And this Kate is Joan's mother?" Douglas asked, frowning.

  Cam nodded. "Aye. She was carrying Joan when she went to the abbey. She died giving birth to her."

  "Who raised her?" his father asked at once.

  Cam hesitated, but then decided there was nothing for it and admitted, "The abbess gave Joan to the midwife to be rid of her. The woman was a healer as well as a midwife and raised her as her own, teaching her all she knew."

  "And now that the lass is grown she went looking fer her rich relatives?" Douglas suggested cynically.

  Cam shook his head. "The woman never told her who she really was. Joan had no idea she was related to the MacKays when I met her. She did no' ken that until yesterday."

  "Then why was she on her way to MacKay when ye encountered her?" Aiden asked.

  Cam sighed, and quickly explained about the deathbed request and the sealed scroll. He also explained the true version of how he'd encountered Joan and come to be traveling with her. Well, a slightly edited true version. It was none of their business that he'd been acting like a randy bull the last two weeks. When he finished, he stared into his tankard, waiting for his father's pronouncement.

  Cam half expected the man would rear up with outrage, upset that he'd married the daughter of a thief and would-be murderer and demand he annul the marriage.
Which would mean a holy argument because he had no intention of doing that.

  "So, she's half Scot," his father said finally, and Cam glanced up quickly with surprise.

  "Aye, I suppose she is," he said slowly.

  "And she was raised by a healer in the village, not that Kate woman, so will no' be spoiled and greedy like her mother," Aiden pointed out.

  "She is no' spoiled," Cam assured him. "In truth, she's smart, and funny and a skilled healer. She's no' afraid o' hard work."

  "She's brave too, setting out alone to deliver her mother's message," Douglas decided reluctantly. "Foolish, but brave."

  "Aye," Cam agreed. It had been foolish--brave, but foolish. She could have died. Would have died had he not happened upon her and her attackers when he had.

  "It was clever of her to dress as a boy fer the journey," Aiden commented, and then grinned and added, "I wish I'd seen her dressed as a boy."

  The comment made Douglas turn on Cam with disbelief. "How the devil could ye mistake the lass fer a lad? Even in braies I'd ken she was a woman on first sight. Her bosoms are--"

  "She had her breasts bound," Cam growled, not liking his brother mentioning Joan's breasts, let alone knowing he'd taken note of her generous curves.

  "Oh," Douglas said, but then shrugged. "Still, there's her face. She has a pretty face. Nothing like a boy's."

  "Her face was swollen and bruised from the beating the bandit was giving her when I came upon them," Cam said impatiently. "She still has a little bruising on her temple by her ear."

  "Aye, I noticed that," Douglas murmured and then shook his head. "It's been how long since the attack? Roderick and Bryson ha'e been home fer more than two weeks."

  "Two weeks four days," Cam said, quickly adding the two week journey, the three days he'd been unconscious, and then today.

  "Two weeks four days," Douglas murmured and shook his head. "She must ha'e taken a hell o' a beating to still ha'e bruising after this much time has passed."

  "Aye. It was bad," Cam said. "Her face looked much like Bryson's after Comyn got done with him that time he caught him with his wife."

  "Oh, that's bad," Aiden said with a grimace. "She must ha'e been in terrible pain."

  "Aye," Cam agreed and then marveled, "She never once complained, though."