by Sherry Ewing
Nodding his thanks, Ian pulled the cork and took a long hard drink of the cool brew to quench his thirst. “Any other words of wisdom you care to impart?”
“Ye wish me tae speak freely?” Angus asked with a raised brow.
“I believe you earned that right after aiding me with freeing my lady.”
“Ye know, we have not seen the last from the Davidson laird. He willna like that ye bested him, no matter the woman is yer wife.”
Ian stretched his sore muscles. “Tell me something I do not know, Angus. We will keep our eyes open and be on the lookout for trouble. ’Twill surely follow Lynet wherever she may go, and I suspect being my wife will not change that.” He sat down on a bale of hay and motioned for Angus to do the same, offering the man a drink from the flagon.
Ian watched the Scot’s indecision, giving him a moment to take a good look at a man who had traveled far just to find him. It appeared Angus was not much older than Ian himself, if they were not of similar age. Ian could see the man spent many an hour training with the broadsword he had strapped to his side, considering his fit appearance. This led Ian to have nothing but respect for the Highlander, since Ian was not one to live an idle life, either. Dark brown hair hung loose to his shoulders whilst brown eyes peered warily at him, almost as though he dared not speak his mind. He also sprouted a full week’s worth of whiskers, and hidden underneath was a square jaw.
Ian continued to hold out the leather flagon towards the clansman, who finally took ahold of it and sat, even if ’twas done with considerable hesitation. “Go on, Angus, tell me what I am up against that others will not dare say to my face. I am not even sure who I can trust here,” he urged, relaxing back against the wall to await the worst. “How bad can it be, other than from what my own eyes have already shown me?”
“Aye, ye have that aright, me laird,” Angus said, after wiping his mouth and handing the brew off once more to Ian. “Yer Uncle has done a fine mess o’ things tae further burden yer people after all yer brother did tae start the clan’s ruin. We are almost tae the point o’ starvin’, we are, especially when Edric has done nothing tae cease the raiding o’ our cattle and sheep.”
“What else?” Ian’s words were clipped. All he wanted was confirmation of what he had already assumed. His Uncle had run the estate further into the ground, almost to the point of annihilation.
“There’s not much left,” Angus stated, coming straight to the heart of the matter. “Yer coffers are empty, and the fields are fallow. The livestock is almost gone tae the point o’ being non-existent, and winter will be upon us sooner than we would like. ’Tis why yer mother sent fer ye in the hope ye had some coin tae spare in order tae save us.”
“You have been here all this time and never thought of leaving?”
Angus shrugged his broad shoulders. “Where else am I tae go? ’Tis the only home I have ever known, even though there is not much left tae it. Besides, I have a wee bairn on the way and would not risk movin’ the little woman in her condition.”
Ian slapped the man on the back. He barely shifted. “I had not even thought to ask if you were wed.”
“’Twas hardly time, considering yer desire tae enter the tournament tae win yerself a bonny bride. Then, there were more important matters needing attending, besides chasing after yer abducted wife.”
Ian stood, and yet, Angus remained where he was. “What could be of more import than my lady?”
“Yer own health, fer one thing, or had ye not thought on having the lass have a look at yer wound tae see if the injury festers?”
Ian busied himself with tidying up the mess he had made by gathering the cloths he had thrown upon the floor. “We have not had time for much speech of late,” he grumbled, “nor have I made the effort to see what she does with her day.”
Angus did not hold back a low chortle. “As newly wedded, I would not expect a lot o’ talking tae be going on between ye, at least during the midnight hours. Not that I am one tae council ye on how tae handle yer wife, but ye should make the attempt tae have speech with her. It tends tae make life a little easier, not tae mention keep ye warm at night, if ye take my meaning.”
“Speaking from experience, are you?”
“Aye, that I am.”
“I will consider talking to her soon. However, I do not feel Lady Lynet desires my company.”
“She was making her way towards the dock when I passed her. She dinnae appear too happy, not that I am an expert on reading neither a woman’s mind, nor their moods. Go have speech with her,” Angus urged.
Ian began making his way from the stable with Angus following closely behind. He squinted from the daylight, even though ’twas another typical cloudy day that was not entirely different than his time spent in England. He saw Lynet was indeed sitting on the edge of the dock near the loch, tossing rocks into the calm water. Still feeling put out that she had no desire to fully become his wife, he let his pride and anger get the best of him and refused to make the first move. Angus must have read his thoughts, as he began tsk tsking.
“Ye willna go tae her, then?” he asked tersely.
“Nay,” Ian muttered, “I must needs see the blacksmith and attend other duties.”
“Do ye mind, then, if I have speech wit’ yer lady?”
Ian was not sure what possessed the man to ask this of him and, yet, could not say him nay. “You may as well see to her. After all you have done for us, I put Lynet in your care as her guard to protect her when I am not able to do so myself.”
Angus gave him a slight nod. “I am honored, my laird.”
Ian watched the slightly older man make his way towards his wife, not knowing why, for the life of him, he was not making the effort himself.
~***~
Her mood could only be termed gloomy, at best. She did not fit in here, and any of her attempts to become mistress of the castle were continually thwarted by Fiona’s meddlesome ways. Lynet had all but given up, since ’twas clear she did not have Ian’s support. She surmised, once her dowry was received from Berwyck, she would be all but sent to some obscure dwelling to live out the rest of her life. She might as well have joined the nunnery, as she had threatened to do so many times in the past. At least her life would have been a worthy sacrifice as one of God’s brides, instead of being seen as a useless annoyance and always being told she was under foot.
Lynet had tried to take charge of the hall, the kitchens, and even to see if anything could be salvaged from what remained of the gardens. Time and time again, Lady Fiona had made it clear her assistance was not needed, despite the fact the condition of Ian’s hall was atrociously filthy. She was shocked the dogs would even sleep upon the flea ridden floor, but it explained much of why those that walked across the room scratched at their legs.
She had angered him that night, which almost seemed as if it had happened a lifetime ago. ’Twas an eve that constantly played inside her mind ’til she wanted to run screaming from the keep. Ian had made no attempt to soften her wounded heart that he would take her in front of others, notwithstanding the fact that he did indeed honor her request. The evenings were the worst torture she had ever encountered, for she would have no choice but to listen intently to his steady breathing as sleep overtook him whilst he slumbered upon the floor.
Lynet picked up another stone lying next to her and tossed it into the waters to watch the rippling effect of the wave ’til it dissipated into nothingness. She wiped at a tear, wondering where the sassy lass of Berwyck had gone. Sometimes, she felt like such a child, and knew not in which direction she should now turn. Going back home to Berwyck did not seem like a possible solution to her problems, not that she had the means or energy to travel the length of Scotland to reach it.
“Ye should be careful about throwing stones, lassie. Ye might awaken the monster lying far beneath those murky waters o’ the loch.”
Gathering her skirts, she rose quickly, only to espy Angus standing some distance from her.
“Hello
, Angus.” Her words were soft, and she supposed their tone echoed her feelings, since a sad look appeared upon his face. She tossed her head in the direction of the now calm surface that seemed as smooth as glass. “Is there really a creature living within?”
“So the legend goes, if ye believe such things. Why so forlorn, milady?” He came to stand next to her as they both turned to stare back over the water. “It canna be as bad as ye think.”
“Aye, it can,” she whispered. “Nothing is how I thought ’twould be from my youth.”
“Weel, sometimes bairns tend tae not think o’ anything other than dreamin’ and wishin’ on what could be. Usually, the reality o’ the situation is a far cry from what their life will become.”
“I serve no purpose here, Angus. I am not even mistress in my own keep,” she fumed afore she remembered herself and shyly looked up at the man beside her. “I am sorry. I barely know you and should not be confessing my thoughts so openly.”
“I am honored ye think yerself comfortable enough around me that ye would do so. Should ye not be admitting such tae our laird? He seems a most reasonable man tae make things aright between ye and the lady Fiona.”
“We have fallen into disaccord.”
Angus gave a heavy sigh. “He said much the same thing, not that he told me any details.”
Lynet inwardly gave a sigh of relief that Ian had not confessed to another she withheld herself from her husband. ’Twas embarrassing enough for her to be living with the knowledge of her foolishness. ’Twould be a hundred times more so if others knew, as well.
They stood there in silence for several moments, lost in their own thoughts. ’Twas a beautiful place she had hoped to call home, but now her uncertainty welled up inside her ’til she knew not which direction she should turn. She rubbed at her temples, hoping some answer would come to her. There was nothing, but all the questions of what she could have done differently. With a polite clearing of Angus’s throat, Lynet turned towards him and saw ’twas clear he had been attempting to gain her attention.
“Was there something you wished to speak to me about, Angus?” Taking her eyes from the loch, she gave the highlander her full attention.
“I was pondering that, mayhap, ye should see just how far ye can push our laird into giving up some o’ his pride and making things aright with ye.”
A very unladylike snort escaped her lips in surprise. “I hardly think pushing him to whatever limits of patience he has left with me will do our relationship any good.”
“Bah! Such an effort canna hurt,” Angus scoffed. “Besides, I believe yer own willful determination tae remain immune tae Ian’s charms is precisely what drew the man tae ye in the first place.”
“Hmmm. I still do not know if ’tis a good idea, Angus.”
“Let us start with going for a ride. I shall plead that ye ordered me tae take ye or ye’d go off on yer own.”
“He shall be furious,” Lynet stated, but beamed in delight with the thought of escaping the stifling confines of the castle for however long such a reprieve should last. She would not mind being away from Ian’s mother, as well.
“Aye, that he will. Although, we shall take several men with us fer extra protection.”
Lynet clasped her hands behind her back, trying to hold back her excitement of going for a ride. “I believe your idea does have some merit. Let us away, and you can show me the lay of the land.”
And that is how Lynet escaped the ever watchful eyes of the Lady Fiona and Ian’s uncle for the afternoon. As she raced across the countryside under close guard, she enjoyed the small amount of freedom she had been granted. She knew her return would be turbulent, and for the first time in the past several se’nnights, she was looking forward to the storm.
~***~
Calum watched the procession of horses as they made their way back behind the security of the walls of the castle. The man was a fool to let Lynet go beyond the one place she would be safe from his clutches. He would have never been that careless. He squinted afore raising his hand to shield his eyes from the brightness of the sun peeking through the ever persistent clouds.
He began making his way back down from the mountaintop to rejoin his men. His scouts had done a fair enough job tracking his lady, despite Ian’s attempts to hide their trail. Yet, Calum knew where they were headed, for ’twas no secret where MacGillivray would make his home.
He called out his orders to make camp for the night, even whilst he began to formulate how Lynet’s fortune would soon be his. He had lost the fair damsel once due to his own stupidity. When he at last got her in his grasp, he would not make the same mistake, ever again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ian stormed his way past his kinsmen, who apparently had nothing better to do then stand around staring aimlessly at the party who had just ridden into the outer bailey. His angry stride proved he had only one purpose in mind, and that was to reach the woman who sat prettily upon a chestnut mare with bubbly laughter upon her lips. If he was not so furious with her, he might have noticed how beautiful she appeared. With blue eyes sparkling with uncontained joy, ’twas apparent she had enjoyed her outing, along with the company of others.
As he drew closer, she must have felt his nearness, for the smile that only seconds ago graced her face, now fell into a grim line of displeasure. Her delicate brows drew together in a fierce scowl that rivaled her brother-in-law’s. Ian all but dismissed her foul temperament as insignificant, considering Lynet’s actions this day were the cause of his own unpleasant and foul mood. He felt as if his wrath was about to explode. Seeing as she was the one to have erred, he had no notion as to what she had to be so upset about.
Calling out to the lad about to take the reins of her horse, Ian stepped forward and all but wrenched them from her grasp. Tossing the leather aside, he raised his arms towards his errant wife. “Get down,” he ordered through clenched teeth. Lynet glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Angus, but the highlander merely plastered a smile upon his face that could only be termed as one of satisfaction. Ian was not sure what was going on between the two, but he did not care for it, at all.
His wife nonchalantly rested her arm upon the pommel of her saddle. “I do not need your help, Ian. I am perfectly capable of getting off my horse, with or without your unwelcome assistance.” Her words dripped dangerously close to all but insulting him.
Stunned she would shun him in front of others, he tried again, but to no avail. “You are my wife,” he stated firmly. She did not take his meaning, only furthering his annoyance with the lass.
“Really?” she snapped with raised brows. “I was not sure you remembered, since I have all been but forgotten since our arrival.” Slapping away his outstretched hands, she dismissed his attempt to be chivalrous whilst she slid to the ground in one fluid and graceful movement. Adjusting her skirts, she dared to look up at him as though she had done nothing wrong.
He leaned forward, causing Lynet to move ’til her backside rested against her horse. “Do not test me further this day, lass.” His whispered words were meant for her ears alone, but Ian swore he heard an amused chuckle coming from Angus whilst he led his horse in the direction of the stable. “Who gave you permission to leave the castle?”
“I was not aware I must needs ask your consent,” Lynet replied with a sweet smile. Skirting around him, she casually began taking off her gloves as though she had all time at her leisure. “I was well guarded.” Turning her back on him, she began to make her way towards the keep. He quickened his pace to catch up to her.
“That is not the point,” he declared, scowling. Reaching for her arm, Ian made the mistake of pulling Lynet closer to him. Her flowery scent assaulted his senses like a rich, heady wine. Just to feel her standing this close to him was intoxicating.
Inhaling deeply, Ian sensed her very essence capture his soul, and he felt as though he were a man starving for food. Their eyes met. For just an instant, Ian swore he witnessed such longing hidden in the de
pth of blue that swam afore his vision. Lynet quickly changed her expression to mask the emotions Ian knew for certain she had been feeling. Once again, she portrayed a lady who was cool and unresponsive to his charm.
“Then what is your point, Ian?”
“Have you so easily forgotten the danger that could be awaiting you? Or, perchance, you do not care if you are captured, yet again?”
“Do not be so ridiculous,” she answered confidently. “I was perfectly safe with Angus and the men he had to guard me.”
“I will advise you to not be a fool, thinking you are safe outside of these walls. I do not feel my trying to keep you protected is unreasonable.”
“I am not the one being unreasonable,” she shouted.
Ian hid a smile as he watched his wife’s face become flushed in her efforts to remain in control of the situation they were discussing. “Then, we are in accord. You will not leave the grounds again, lest I give you leave to do so,” Ian replied, taking her elbow to escort her, whether she liked it or not.
“I never agreed to such terms.”
“You may not be in agreement to my directives, but you will obey them just the same, if you know what is good for you.”
“I am not a child to be ordered about,” Lynet fumed.
“Then stop acting like one,” Ian answered. Leading her through the hall, they made their way up to their chambers. Opening the door, he gave her a gentle push. When she sat with enough force to break the stool afore the fire, he gave her a look that he would not tolerate further arguing. She snapped her lips shut, not giving voice to the sharp retort she was most likely about to spit out at him. “I will send a maid to help you change and will see you at the evening meal.”
Giving her a formal bow that would have rivaled any gentleman at court, he left her sulking in her seat and closed the door quietly between them. Ian could only ponder on what object met the door as the sound of it shattering ricocheted throughout the passageway.
~***~
“That insufferable, pig-headed lout!”
