Rogan swore and barked orders for her to return to the keep before he turned and hurried off.
Emma waited only a moment, and then followed him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Emma held back until she saw that it was MacClennan warriors, worn, injured, and returning home. She ran to help, realizing they had to be the warriors that had still been unaccounted for and she hoped they brought news concerning Heather.
She flew past her husband and went straight for the warrior who appeared the worst of the lot.
Rogan shook his head and wondered why he even bothered to give her any orders. He would send her back to the keep, but his men needed her and they greeted her eagerly, knowing full well she would tend their wounds.
A few women hurried forward, tears in their eyes as they ran to hug their husbands.
Rogan slowed as he approached, giving his wife time to look over his men and to determine the extent of the various injures and for the wives to greet their husbands. Then he stepped forward, and the men squared their shoulders and gave him their full attention.
“You are all to go to the Great Hall where my wife, that raised brows and turned eyes wide since these men had not been aware of the marriage, will tend you and you can get some nourishment.” Rogan knew it went without saying that he expected to talk with them.
Liam and several other warriors help the injured and Ina was waiting at the keep with several other women ready to help. Food and drink were brought out and the warriors ate while waiting their turn for Emma to tend them.
Rogan joined a couple of unwed warriors who looked to be enjoying the food.
“Congratulations, my lord, on your marriage” the one said and the other nodded in agreement, his mouth too full to speak.
“Thank you,” Rogan said, refilling their tankards with ale.
“What happened to the cook?” the other warrior asked before shoveling another spoonful of porridge into his mouth.
“My wife made some changes to the kitchen,” Rogan said, aware of what the warrior meant. The food was much tastier than usual. Having enjoyed the morning meal immensely, he had taken the time to go to the kitchen and inquire. The room was so clean that he had to look twice at it to make certain he was in the right place. The smells were delicious and the servants even seemed happier. The cook had praised Emma’s changes and told him she looked forward to learning more from the new lady of the keep.
“God bless her,” the two warriors said in unison.
Rogan could not help but grin. “I could not agree more.” His smile faded. “Now tell me what happened.”
The one warrior downed some ale, wiped his arm across his mouth, then explained, “We were herded together, our weapons and horses taken from us, and we were forced to walk deeper into the forest. We were left there, we thought, alone. After seeing to our injures as best we could, we tried to make our way back, but we found out fast enough that we were not alone. We were captives.”
The other warrior continued explaining. “Lem is right about that. As soon as any one of us stepped past an invisible boundary, the ghost warriors would show themselves, reminding us that they were there and we were not free.”
“How did you manage to escape?” Rogan asked, hoping his men had found a weakness in the ghost warriors.
“We didn’t escape,” Lem said and nodded to the warrior beside him. “Connor woke one morning to find our weapons and our horses right there waiting for us. He woke us and we got out of there as fast as we could, and we never saw another ghost warrior again.”
“We were herded away so fast that we had no chance to see what had happened to you and my lady,” Connor said. “We searched the area on our way home and found a few signs that gave us hope you survived. Never in all our fighting days have we ever come up against men like the ghost warriors. They seem invincible.”
“No one is invincible, but I will admit that the ghost warriors are the most highly skilled warriors I have ever battled,” Rogan said, knowing future skirmishes with them could prove deadly.
Emma approached the table and the two warriors scurried to stand. “Sit,” she ordered firmly and the two obeyed. “You both look well, though worn out. Have you any injures?”
“Bumps and bruises is all, my lady, and this delicious fare has helped ease any pain,” Lem said, smiling and Connor agreed with a nod and a grin.
Emma leaned in close as if she was about to share a secret with the two. “Wait until you taste the seasoned birds that are roasting and the wild onion mash cooking for supper this eve.”
“We will be the first ones here, right, Lem?” Connor said with a poke to his friend’s rib.
Lem winced.
“You have pain. Let me have a look,” Emma said, stepping around the table to where he sat.
“It is nothing, my lady,” Lem insisted.
“Let her have a look,” Rogan ordered and the warrior obeyed.
At first glance, Emma feared the deep bruise could be a problem, but after asking him some questions and giving the area a closer examination, she smiled, claiming him fit. She suggested that he not swing a sword for several days unless necessary.
With all the warriors having been looked at and most having taken their leave after speaking with Rogan, he escorted his wife to an empty table where they could talk.
“What did they have to say to you?” Emma asked eagerly.
Rogan explained what Lem and Connor had told him. “I will speak to the other men eventually, but the two warriors’ accounts are enough to determine why they were held captive and then released.”
“Time,” Emma said. “The Dark Dragon wanted time for us to return home and receive that false message from Patience and to learn once and for all that he was the one who had captured Heather.”
“It would seem that way,” Rogan agreed.
“You sound doubtful.”
“Not about why my warriors were detained.” He rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. “I have wondered if someone helps the Dark Dragon. He seems to have been steps ahead of us at various turns.”
“That is impossible,” Emma argued. “Who would help him? The Macinnes clan is a loyal lot. Besides, Heather is loved by the clan. They would never want to see her meet such a horrible fate.”
“Promise of wealth can be a temptation too hard to refuse.”
Emma shook her head slowly. “I cannot, or perhaps I do not want to believe that someone in our clan would do such a thing to Heather, but I would be a fool to deny it a possibility.”
“Has any strangers recently stayed with your clan for an extended period of time?” Rogan asked, thinking of another possibility.
“Are you suggesting we have or had a spy in our clan?”
“We cannot rule out anything,” Rogan said.
“I would hate to think that someone in the Macinnes clan betrayed Heather.”
Rogan reached out and took her hand.
His simple touch made her smile and eased her worries. “I am glad I have you, husband.”
“We have each other.” He raised their joined hands and kissed the back of hers. “So tell me, is there a chance that you could have had or perhaps continue to have a spy in your midst?”
Emma thought it over and shook her head. “The only recent stranger was Duncan, the monk, and he died before any talk began about a marriage arrangement.”
“Who most recently joined your clan?”
Emma had to think a minute. “Maura, but she has been with us over a year now.”
“How did she happen to join your clan?”
“She appeared one day like any stranger does, in need of food and rest. Heather saw to her and once she learned that Maura had no one, she suggested that Maura stay, and so she did. But I cannot believe that Maura is anything more than she claims to be—a widow who lost home and hearth when her husband died.”
“She does seem a kind soul,” Rogan admitted.
“And she takes good care of my da.” Emma sho
ok her had more vigorously. “It cannot be Maura. Perhaps the ghost warriors have been watching the Macinnes clan longer than we have realized.”
“I never thought of that, but it is a distinct possibility,” Rogan said, though wondered if there was not more too what was going on than they had allowed themselves to realize. The question remained… what could it be?
“I hate that there are more questions than answers,” Emma said, letting go of Rogan’s hand to fill two tankards with cider.
“But the questions do get answered, though not as quickly as you would like. And need I remind you that Patience prefers us to wait while she locates the biggest piece of this puzzle?”
“The Dragon’s lair,” Emma whispered, not wanting to say it aloud.
“I know right now time seems an enemy to you, but it could prove to be your best friend. In time we will learn more and be able to formulate a plan that will succeed in rescuing your sister. If we continued to search for her, the ghost warriors will only claim more of our warriors, which I am certain would delight the Dark Dragon, for it would weaken our forces. We will be ready and fit to strike when the time comes.”
“You are right,” she said on a sigh.
“What was that you said?” Rogan asked with a grin.
Emma laughed. “A slip of the tongue.”
Rogan held three fingers up, wiggling them. “Three times now you have told me I am right. So, you admit that you have a wise husband?”
She laughed again. “Yes, dear husband, you are wise.”
“Since you admit I am wise, then you should have no problem obeying me.”
Emma glared at him, though her smile remained wide as she accused, “You trapped me with your words.”
“Wise words,” he said his grin growing.
She reached out and took his hand in her two. “I fear I will never be the obedient wife you want me to be. I tried hard this morning to remain in bed until you woke, but I was eager to explore.”
“You could have woken me.”
“I thought about it, since I woke with a need for you. But I feared I wore you out yesterday, since your slumber was heavy and your snore light. So, I felt it was best I left you alone.”
Rogan took hold of both her hands in his large one. “I do not know how many times I must remind you that you could never wear me out. When you are in need of me, you simply need to tell me, for no doubt I would be feeling the same, my need for you just as great. Also, I would love to wake to your touch in the morning. It would please me and pleasure me beyond belief. And lastly, I do not snore.”
“My lord,” a servant said softly to announce her approach.
Rogan nodded, keeping hold of his wife’s hands.
“Your father wishes to speak with you,” the servant finished.
Emma yanked her hands away from Rogan and popped up off the bench. “Is something wrong? Is he not feeling well?”
“No, my lady, the laird is doing fine. He simply wishes to speak with his son.”
“I will be right there,” Rogan said relieved that his da felt well enough to talk with him.
The servant bobbed her head and hurried off.
“I have things to see to,” Emma said, walking around the table.
Rogan swung his feet out from under the table and over the bench and hooked his wife around the waist as she went past him and tugged her down on his lap.
“Your father—”
“Will wait a moment, while I tell my wife how much I love her.”
Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, not softly, though not ravenously, since it would be difficult to let him go if she did. Rogan added to that difficulty by nibbling at her neck after the kiss was done. Between his lips and teeth nipping along her sensitive skin, he had her growing wet in seconds.
Then he did something that had a soft moan slipping from her lips as she rested her brow against his. He moved her so that her backside nested on his thick, hard manhood.
“You are not being fair,” she whispered.
“To either one of us,” he murmured and nipped at her neck. “After I finish speaking with my father—”
“Find me.” She grabbed his face in her hands and brushed her lips across his. “I will be wet and willing.”
“Our bedchamber,” he commanded.
She pushed her way out of his embrace, since he was not willing to let her go. “No, I fear if I wait there for you I will—” Her cheeks burned red.
He stood, his arm going around her waist once again. “You will what?”
“I dare not say it. It was wicked of me to even think it.”
“Are you so impatient or are you in such need that you think of pleasing yourself?”
She gasped softly, but then he knew her too well for his response to have startled her. Still, embarrassment stained her cheeks red. “That is improper.”
“Only if I am not there to watch,” he whispered.
Her cheeks continued to flame, but her curious nature had her saying, “If it pleases you, it most certainly will please me.”
Rogan smiled and kissed her quick. “I do love you, wife.”
She stepped away from him. “Then go and speak with your father, and then come find me so that I can show you how very much I love you.” She hastily left the Great Hall and Rogan left with equal haste to speak with his father.
Chapter Thirty
Rogan entered his father’s bedchamber, pleased to see him sitting up and looking so alert. He had thought to rush this talk with his da, but seeing him looking better than he had in some time and not being into his cups made him change his mind.
“You are looking well, Da,” Rogan said, approaching the bed.
“Like his old self,” Bertha said with a smile and continued on before Angus could say a word. “I will be leaving you two to talk.” She wagged her finger at Angus. “And don’t you be getting out of that bed.” She turned her wagging finger on Rogan. “And don’t you let him be talking you into helping him out of bed.” She emphasized her point with one sharp wag of her finger and marched out of the room.
Both men looked at each other as Rogan took a seat in the chair by the bed. “I do not know about you, Da, but I would not cross Bertha and I would not dare cross my wife.” He smiled and it spread slowly into a huge grin.
“Sometimes it is good to let women think they have some control,” Angus said with a nod and a grin of his own.
“I think you mean that women let us think we have some control when we have none.”
Angus laughed. “Aye, it was like that with your mum, though she always insisted she was an obedient wife. I still do not know how she got her way all the time.”
“Love,” Rogan said. “She loved you and you loved her.”
“You are right. It does make all the difference, and I am sorry that you got stuck in a loveless marriage. I wanted more for you.”
“Fate saw that I got what you wanted for me. I love Emma and she loves me. I could not have asked for a more loving, generous, and stubborn woman.”
A tear came to Angus’s eye. “She reminds me of your mum, and she is prettier than I first thought.”
“She is beautiful, Da, and I am lucky to have her as my wife.”
“I am happy for you, my son, and knowing you have a loving and supportive wife, gives me all the more reason to make you Laird of the MacClennan Clan.” Angus raised his hand to stop any protests from Rogan. “It is time. You are young, strong, and more than capable of leading the clan. Besides, you have been leading this clan since soon after your mother died. You had no choice with me failing to attend to my duties. You have the right to carry the title of Laird of the MacClennan Clan.”
“If you are certain, Da, I will accept the title with honor.” Rogan had expected this, though now that the time had come it seemed surreal. That his father thought enough of him to declare him laird of the clan while he, himself, still lived was a great honor. However, he could not help but wonder if his father wo
uld once again suffer a great loss as he had when Rogan’s mother had died. He prayed and hoped that this loss would not affect his father as badly as losing his wife had.
Angus sighed. “I am certain and relieved to officially hand the title and all that goes with it over to you. We can have a celebration once I am well and can stand firm on my two feet. For now, tell me of any news I have missed.”
*
Emma talked with the men working on the kitchen garden, explaining exactly how she wanted the patch extended and designating where paths were to be situated between the rows of plants. When she finished, she went to the planting fields to examine the soil and see what the farmers planned for spring planting. She noted changes that would need to be made and as with the kitchen garden the planting fields also needed to be extended and more of a variety of plants added.
She put off examining the animals and pens where they were kept for another day. It was not where she wanted Rogan to find her when he came looking for her. It would not be a place conducive for making love, and she so wanted to make love with her husband. He had left her with a lovely throb in her loins and she could not wait to have it satisfied.
Sometimes she wondered if it was proper for her to enjoy making love with her husband so much. She had heard more women speak of it as a duty or a chore one suffered through rather than enjoyed. It was no duty to her and far from a chore, though she thought much too often on it.
She shook her head as she walked through the village. She had to stop thinking of all the delicious things her husband did to her and the thoroughly delicious things she was learning to do to him. She had matters that needed her attention and her body crying out for her husband to mount and ride her hard and fast should not be foremost on her mind.
Her cheeks flamed. Good Lord, what was the matter with her? She was not at all a proper wife, demanding that her husband pleasure her. But Rogan seemed to find nothing wrong with it and even encouraged her, so why should she feel improper about wanting her husband?
She had a lot to learn about being a wife and she smiled at the prospect. After all, she did love to learn.
She slowed her pace, her eyes catching sight of many things that needed repairing and refreshing now that spring had set in. Several roofs needed thatching, pens needed repairing, tools needed tending, and garments needed mending. She realized then that the village and its people had declined along with its laird. But that would be no more. Angus MacClennan had requested her help and he was about to get much more help than he expected.
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