by Reece Butler
The damn woman was going to swoon!
Malcolm, cursing, pushed his way through the crowd in front of him. He was still too far away when she collapsed. Colin caught her before she hit the stone floor. Instead of being worried about his daughter the laird looked like a satisfied cat who’d had one bowl of cream and was eagerly expecting meat to follow. He was far too pleased as he watched Colin carry her away.
Malcolm listened to the whispers that broke out about why Kiera had swooned. She’d been a woman alone, unprotected, for months. The laird had looked angry when he leaned down to speak to her. What had she done? None had heard his words, but the look the laird gave Kiera just before she rose from her curtsy would have made many swoon in fear.
Then a smug woman behind Malcolm said why Lady Kiera swooned. Her shocked maid said Kiera had slept that afternoon, something she’d never done before. Such tiredness, and fainting when standing too quickly, were signs all women knew. No wonder the laird had been angry. The widowed, unmarried, daughter of the Lord of Kintail had a babe in her belly!
That whisper spread like wildfire through dry gorse.
No wonder MacKenzie looked so pleased with himself. He’d purposefully said something to Kiera to cause her to swoon. By doing so he’d made sure the entire hall knew her situation. Malcolm had never met Kiera, yet he cringed for her. Such humiliation and shame would overpower most women. Once more he cursed MacKenzie’s sordid plan. Why couldn’t the laird have introduced them to each other, tell them the marriage was set, and give them time to find their own way?
Laird MacKenzie looked triumphant. Malcolm knew Duff would never have touched Kiera without being handfasted. She was a married woman though MacKenzie would make sure none would know of it. This evening had been staged, perhaps even to the greasy boar which would upset a newly pregnant woman’s stomach.
MacKenzie caught his eye. He pointed at the empty stool beside his chair, making it obvious Malcolm was to take Kiera’s place. More whispers exploded. All knew he’d been at Castle Leod so could not be the cause of her disgrace. If he sat there a connection would be made between her fainting and Malcolm taking her seat, one far higher than a man from a poor clan deserved. No one would be surprised when their marriage was announced. Most would think MacKenzie had solved the problem of his pregnant daughter by marrying her to a poor stranger. Who else would want her under those circumstances?
It was an insult to them both, but mostly to Kiera. She did not deserve this treatment. She’d joined with Duff innocently, expecting him to honor their handfasting. Malcolm would have to tread carefully. All would know Kiera had not seen him in the hall. None knew of Duff. Malcolm was sure the laird would have the two of them meet in privacy this night. Their wedding would no doubt be announced by morning.
Malcolm would give his version of the truth after their wedding, once Duff returned from wherever MacKenzie had sent him. Duff would say Kiera had kept her handfasting, and his identity, a secret from her father. As Cormac and James had lived here for a time, sharing Alana Sinclair as their wife, it would not be surprising that Kiera did the same. Being a dutiful daughter, of course she’d agreed to marry the identical twins.
With such a witch’s brew around her, they had to get Kiera out. Malcolm would do what he could to have the three of them leave for Kinrowan Tower immediately. Kiera would have her home, he and Duff would have more than they’d ever expected, and they’d leave the laird and his plotting behind. MacKenzie did care for his daughter but he cared for his clan more. As it should be.
Mackenzie’s eyebrow twitched, a silent order. Malcolm nodded and obeyed. The laird, ever conscious of his position, waited for Malcolm to sit first. He looked around, the tallest and most imposing man there, before settling in his chair. He thanked the young pages who filled his glass with wine and set a wide trencher of roast boar in front of him, and began to eat.
Malcolm’s stomach grumbled eagerly. He’d never eaten so well in his life. Too many nights they’d all gone to bed with barely a bit of watery oatmeal in their bellies. Somerled had done the best he could, and none of them faulted him. When Malcolm married Kiera he would be ensuring his own sons never starved.
This marriage was not about him, nor Kiera, or Duff, for that matter. It was about keeping the MacKenzie clan strong. All knew it was not good to thin the blood by marrying too closely too often. The bairns he and Duff would give Kiera, and the strong arms they would use to protect their new clan, would benefit the MacKenzies. In return he and Duff would live well, have a purpose to serve, and a wife to care for. The MacDougal clan would get another important alliance to protect them from their enemies.
As long as he remembered they were just one more link stretching back into the mists of time he would be able to stomach what must be done. He dug in, savoring the meal. He would never take food, shelter, or heat for granted. They concentrated on their food until Colin returned.
“All will soon ken why the lass fainted,” said MacKenzie. His lips barely moved, the comment meant only for Malcolm. ‘Tis why ye are sitting at my hand.”
“Kiera’s had a sleeping draught, to keep her until after ye sup,” said Colin into his trencher. “The maids are sure she is carrying a babe.”
“Colin, how is yer sister?” MacKenzie spoke as if uncaring who heard. Not too loudly, as that would be obvious. There were a lot of shushing sounds and whispers died.
“My lord,” replied Colin in the same tone, “Kiera may be with child. I dinna ken who the father might be. She’s been away on her own…”
Mackenzie didn’t seem to hear the shocked gasps. He grunted, scowling.
“Aye, Elizabeth was the same with each bairn, pukin’ and swoonin’. ‘Tis why I asked this strapping young laddie to sit with me. He’ll make her a good husband.”
Malcolm choked at the bald statement. “I, Laird MacKenzie? I’ve just now seen the lass, and that for but a moment.” He waited for MacKenzie to down the last of his wine.
“Kiera’s been needin’ a husband for a while, but none would have a widowed shrew.” MacKenzie looked him over, making it obvious. “Ye’ve got a good sword arm, ye learn well, and ye come from a good clan. Ye’ll do.”
“Laird MacKenzie, what if the lady is already handfasted?”
Mackenzie stopped with his glass halfway to his mouth. His face went hard.
“Kiera didna get permission to marry from her da,” he said coldly, “from Laird MacKenzie, or from the Lord of Kintail. If she did handfast with the father of her babe, ‘twill nay stand. Ye will be her husband.”
“She is carrying another man’s child.”
The eyes of an eagle caught him, unseen talons holding him in its grip. “The ram doesna matter, only the MacKenzie ewe.” He stabbed the table with a blunt finger. “Ye were born a MacDougal, but any child from Kiera MacKenzie’s womb will be a MacKenzie!” He sat back. “Ye’ll be marrying my daughter.” He bared his teeth in the parody of a smile. “Surprise.”
That brought laughter. MacKenzie tipped his glass to the crowd, acknowledging that he knew they listened, and approved of them knowing. Malcolm’s head pounded. He had not expected such a public scene, and done so quickly.
“Ye saw my wee lassie just now, but nay heard her speak, aye?” demanded MacKenzie when the hall quieted. Malcolm nodded in reply. “The lass thinks she would be laird, and not her husband. What will ye do about it?” His look, and words, were a public challenge.
Malcolm sat taller in his stool. This was his opportunity to show he could handle Kiera the way none other had. They’d been afraid of her, or of her position as daughter to the laird. He was not. He’d been raised with nothing so was not afraid of being reduced to the same thing.
“My wife willna be a shrew, Laird MacKenzie. She will learn to behave, and will ken her place.”
“And where is her place?” demanded Mackenzie. There was humor in his eyes. The hall was silent, not a servant moving.
“My wife’s place,” said Malcolm loudly
and distinctly, “is wherever I choose her to be.”
“At yer feet?” asked the laird slyly.
“Aye,” he replied bluntly. “Or anywhere else I wish.”
“Will ye beat her if she refuses to obey?”
Malcolm didn’t speak, making the powerful man beside him wait for his answer.
“MacDougals dinna beat women or bairns. If she doesna listen, Kiera will find herself facedown on my lap while my hand warms her bare arse.”
MacKenzie’s eyes widened for a second before he roared with laughter. Others joined in, with even a few cheering. MacKenzie clapped him on the back, hard, and they went back to eating.
“When will I meet her?” asked Malcolm quietly.
“After we sup. I will be there when she wakes. I want ye outside the door, listening. It will be dark when I ask ye in. She willna see ye ‘till I bring a candle near.”
“Will Duff be here for the wedding?”
“Aye, he wishes to stand at yer side. I wish his face covered, so few will ken ye look the same. Tonight she will see there are two of ye.” He chuckled. “Be ready in case she swoons again.”
Chapter Thirteen
Kiera woke in a dim room. A few candles flickered on the table beside her. She was in bed, stripped to her night rail, a sheet tucked around her. She lifted her head, thought of the boar, and lay back, hoping her stomach would settle.
“Who did it?”
She jerked at the demanding voice booming out of the dark. One she knew too well.
“Father?” It came out as a croak.
“‘Tis Laird MacKenzie ye be talkin’ to. Colin said ye turned green like yer gown when ye heard we’d eat boar. And then ye fainted. Do ye have a bairn in yer belly?”
He stayed in the corner by the door where she couldn’t see him. Speaking to the laird was less dangerous than when he called himself Lord of Kintail. She’d hoped her old da would comfort her. No one else could, not even Chester. Not since Duff rode away. Would she ever see him again? If her father was this angry he could have him tossed into the dungeon. Maybe if he understood, he’d wait for Duff to return to marry her.
“Aye,” she admitted.
“Did ye do this a’purpose, thinking to shame me so I’d send ye to Kinrowan to have yer babe with none the wiser? For if ye did, ye’d best ken it willna happen. Ye fainted in the hall. ‘Tis too late to hide it.”
Tears leaked from her eyes. Silent ones. She’d not let him know how much it hurt that he’d think she’d do such a thing. She waited until her voice could be strong.
“Nay, Laird MacKenzie, this had nothing to do with you. And there is no shame. I am handfasted to a good man. This babe will be no bastard.”
She was also familiar with that noise of disgust. “Ye were alone at that croft when my messenger found ye.”
“Aye. Duff had to leave. He will be back, for me and our babe.”
“Mayhaps, but I may not let him in my gates.” A snort of scorn exploded from the corner. “Though all now ken ye let him in yers.”
Kiera had seen her father use crudity to browbeat both men and women. She would not let it bother her. Not until she was alone.
“Does he ken who ye are? Does he wish to have yer dowry, so seduced a withered widow eager for a man’s hard staff?”
Upset stomach or not, she was not going to take his insults lying down! She forced herself to sit up, moving carefully.
“He wants me, not my dowry!” She lifted her chin, knowing he could see her glare in the candlelight. “He cares not for what I can do for him, unlike the men who toady up to you!” She waited for his rage, but it didn’t come. “He found me swimming in the loch and joined me in the water, laughing. His plaid was ragged, his shirt had been mended often, his horse was lean, and his saddle and boot leather were worn. He had wit and showed me courtesy and respect. He saw a widowed woman who attracted him, and naught more.”
“He seduced ye?”
“We seduced each other.” Another snort. “‘Twas my birthday. I was one-and-twenty. Too old for a decent man to marry. Why should I not enjoy the day as I chose?”
“Ye got with child from one time?”
Her face heated. She pleated the edge of the sheet. “I asked him to stay. He wouldna touch me…that way…until we handfasted.” She could almost see her father thinking it over. “I said aye, and as I am with child, our handfasting stands.”
“He didna ask yer da, yer laird, or yer lord.”
“I am a widowed woman, nay a wee lass!”
“Ye are the daughter of the Chief of Clan MacKenzie,” he said in a low growl. “Yer age doesna matter.”
He was right, so she said nothing.
“Ye lied to the laddie.”
She winced. Once more, he was right. “I misled him, aye. ‘Twas nothing like what Dougal Chisholm did to me.” She heard him shift position. Was he embarrassed about that? He’d pushed the union, then had supported her when she told him why she wanted to take her dirk to Dougal’s ugly black heart. Luckily nothing had been signed at that point.
“His da was dead so ‘twas Chisholm himself who whipped Dougal for it when I complained,” said her father.
“For lying to me, humiliating his own clan, or insulting Clan MacKenzie?”
“I let Chisholm think ‘twas the clan what was insulted.” He shifted again, then cleared his throat. “He hurt my wee lassie. Ye changed after that. And then ye ran off with that weasel Bernie! ‘Tis nay a man’s name!” He shuddered. “Thanks be to God he broke his neck afore ye caught yerself a bairn. Ye changed after that, again. Got worse.”
“Aye, and I changed again for better when I met Duff. He’s a good man. Kind, thoughtful, and…” She bit her lip to keep her chin from trembling. “He played chess with me, Father, and didna mind when I beat him. He told stories of Greek and Roman gods and goddesses.” She inhaled a shuddering breath. “He liked me, just as Kiera. I said I had a croft and a wee bit of land. He worked hard on the sheiling, thinking it would be ours next summer.”
She waited for his reaction. She expected the deep sigh.
“Who is he?”
She hesitated. Would her father accept such a man? He liked making strong alliances.
“Duff MacDougal, from the west coast. He said ‘tis a small clan, and poor.”
“Aye, they went against Robert the Bruce so lost almost all to the Campbells. They’re good men, and keep their vows.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised he’d know the clan. A big part of her father’s ability to keep his power depended on knowledge.
“Duff vowed to return for me, and I believe him. We’ll marry with the priest then, if ye wish.”
As the silence stretched she drew her knees up under the covers. Her father being quiet was not a good thing. He thought quickly and sometimes did not make the best decision. But once made, he would never, ever, change his mind.
“Did Colin tell ye about Cormac and James MacDougal marrying Alana Sinclair?”
She perked up at the names. “MacDougals? Are they Duff’s kin?”
“Mayhaps. There’s sixteen of ‘em.”
“Sixteen?”
“Aye, half of ‘em bastards. Is this Duff a bastard?”
“He said his mother was married to the laird.” Kiera disliked her father’s grunt even more than his silence.
“When will this Duff return to claim ye?”
She hesitated. “He said he’d return as soon as he could. Before winter.”
“Winter! Nay, lass, ‘tisn’t good enough. Ye need to be married.”
“But I am married! We handfasted and—”
“And I told ye I didna give permission. My daughter willna have her belly swellin’ and not a husband in sight! Ye’ll be married afore the dark of the moon.”
She slumped back into the bed, rolled onto her side, and curled into a ball. Hot tears wet her pillow. She couldn’t hold back a sniffle no matter how hard she tried. She hoped he wouldn’t marry her to certain cousins who
’d made it clear they would break the spirit of any woman as outspoken as herself.
“Please, father, not cousin Gill—”
“Nay, there’s a laddie visitin’ who’ll do. He’s waiting outside yer door, ready to meet ye.”
She scrambled up again. “You planned this! I had a bit of a weak spell and—”
“Ye were away, alone, all summer. Ye return and the first night ye turn green and faint though ye’ve always had a strong stomach. Ye have tears, sommat I’ve naught seen since ye were a wee lassie.” He grunted again. “Elizabeth gave me twelve bairns. I kenned why ye fainted afore Colin carried ye to yer chamber. So I asked Malcolm to sit at my side in yer empty chair. He will marry ye.”
She pounded her fist into the mattress in fury and frustration. “But I’m handfasted to Duff MacDougal!”
“Nay, lass, ye’re not.” The words were slow and crisp. “Ye didna gain my permission. Ye’ll marry Malcolm.” A strip of light lit the stone floor as her father pulled her door open. A dark shadow filled the strip. A very big dark shadow.
“You’ll bring a strange man into my bedchamber, Father?”
A long-suffering sigh came out of the darkness. “Lass, when I sat Malcolm aside me all kenned he will be yer husband. He has the right to see ye in yer chamber, and more.”
He pulled the door shut behind him, no doubt so he could speak to this Malcolm without her hearing. Though she wished to cry nay, Laird MacKenzie would have her marry this stranger no matter what. Her father had certain ideals. All knew he would not tolerate an unmarried, pregnant daughter, no matter her age. Therefore, she had to marry, and soon. If only he would wait until Duff returned!
When the door remained shut her fear and fury twisted inside her. What did he mean that this Malcolm had a right to see her in her chamber, in nothing more than her night rail, and more?
The door was pushed open a few inches.
“Ye say I’m to marry yer daughter Kiera, a woman I’ve not met though have heard plenty about, because she’s carrying the babe of another man?”
