by Kara Griffin
Kerrigan chortled and leaned to pull off her shoe. She tugged at the stocking on her foot but couldn’t remove it. She lifted her leg and settled her foot on her husband’s knee and caressed him.
Graeme squeezed her toes but kept his gaze on his comrades. “I think it’s time for bed.”
Kerrigan chortled again. “Nay, I’m not tired at all.”
“Anselan, our thanks for the brew. I believe my wife is drunk. Aye, just look at ye, lass. I will put her to bed.”
Kerrigan hiccupped and giggled. “I am certainly not drunk.”
Graeme grinned at her. His head swam before her eyes.
“Mayhap it is time for bed.” She tried to rise, but Graeme kept her still.
Ewan rose. “Shall I carry her, Graeme? She’s not likely to walk on her own.”
Graeme shoved Ewan and scoffed. “I will carry my wife.”
Ewan laughed boisterously.
Kerrigan stood but her legs wobbled. Thankfully Graeme caught her before she fell. “Good night. Thank you, Ewan, for saving me.”
“You’re welcome, milady,” he said, with a wide smile.
Graeme swung her into his arms and carried her and walked toward the keep.
“Ah, I see we’re not going to have a proper wedding night.”
“You are so handsome, husband.” She toyed with his hair and set her lips against his neck. “How did I end up with such a fetching man for my husband?”
“You do not ken what you are saying.” Graeme took the stairs and entered their chamber. He gently set her in the center of the bed. “When ye walked toward me at the wedding, I couldn’t find the words to tell you. You looked more beautiful than any woman. I cannot believe you are mine.”
“Mmm, that’s nice. Help me undress?” Kerrigan lay back, becoming tangled in the fabric of her overdress.
Graeme worked the ties of the outer dress and pulled at her until the strings came undone. Being naked felt marvelously wicked. Kerrigan rolled onto her stomach and watched him as he undressed. She removed the medallion Brodin gave her and set it on the table.
“Come, lie with me.”
He disrobed and pulled back the bed covers. His hard body cradled hers and the prickly hair on his legs tickled. Kerrigan couldn’t help but giggle.
“Will you kiss me?” She was dizzy and wished the room would cease spinning.
“You’re in no condition, wife. Close your eyes and sleep.”
“You won’t leave me?”
“I will be right here, holding you.”
“Do you promise?” She leaned hard against his chest with her elbow until he settled her back beside him.
“Aye, my love, you’ve my vow. Sleep and have sweet dreams.”
Kerrigan doubted her dreams would be sweet for she couldn’t get the image of Fergus out of her mind, but slumber eventually claimed her.
Chapter TWENTY
A thousand daggers stabbed her head. Kerrigan refused to open her eyes, certain the light would make it worse. Whatever was in the brew was deceitful for she’d felt marvelous while drinking it, but now wretched. She wondered if she’d ever be able to move for when she tried, she groaned at the soreness of her muscles.
“Kerrigan?”
She moaned when Graeme placed his hand on her shoulder. “Go away.”
He chuckled, and it sounded akin to a smithy’s hammer.
“Be gone. Aye, let me die in peace.”
“Love, just take a wee sip and you’ll feel better. I promise.”
She opened her eyes and covered her mouth. For at that moment all she wanted was to retch. Her eyes watered and she knew she’d embarrass herself. Graeme set a basin near her.
“Please leave. I don’t want ye to see me like this.”
“Very well, I shall send Dawn to you.”
He left with a bang of the door and it sounded as if he’d lowered a drawbridge. Her head thumped madly. With him gone, she was able to retch without him seeing or hearing. Kerrigan practically crawled to the chamber pot and then back to the bed. She swore never to imbibe again.
A few minutes later, Dawn came.
“Oh, milady, here, let me help ye.” She lifted her from the floor and bade her to sit on the edge of the bed.
When she tried to lie down, she wouldn’t let her. “Let me guess, ye drank Anselan’s brew?” Dawn chucked. “I vow that is how he got me to agree to wed him. Fret not, milady, we’ll have ye right as rain in no time.”
Dawn was true to her word. She set a cool cloth on her neck and wiped her face. She combed her hair and helped her dress.
“Take a sip, milady,” Dawn held a flask out.
She pushed it away. “Nay, I cannot.”
“The men say the best remedy is biting the hair of the dog that bit ye. I know not why, but I am certain it will do wonders. Anselan swears by it and he’s had many a night with the brew.”
Kerrigan accepted the flask from her and took a small sip and forced herself to swallow. “Why did it taste pleasing last eve and now ‘tis fouler than gruel?” Holding it out to her, she could barely look at the drink. Her stomach rumbled.
Dawn laughed and nudged the flask back. “You must drink a wee bit more than that to bite the dog. Take a couple more gulps.”
She did as her newfound friend suggested and blanched as the drink went down her throat.
“Here, eat this.” Dawn handed her a piece of bread. “It shall settle your stomach.”
Within no time, Kerrigan felt better. Her head no longer ached and her stomach calmed. Although she felt foolish for drinking so much. It had tasted good though.
Graeme returned and grinned at her as he came inside the chamber. He thanked Dawn for her help. When she’d gone, he sat on the edge of the bed. Kerrigan folded her garments and placed them in her satchel. She noticed his forlorn look.
“What has you glum, husband?”
“I had to send my mother away.” He lay back upon the bed on his side and watched her.
Kerrigan stopped what she was doing and sat beside him. “Why? Because of what Fergus said? I wouldn’t deem his words honest for he seemed maddened.”
“My father insisted. The fact that she used MacGilley to kill Sorcha and to challenge me proved her guilt. He said he’d always suspected she was behind the deed of Sorcha’s killing. I am remorseful I hadn’t noticed her deception. If I had, MacGilley might not have murdered Sorcha.”
“You cannot blame yourself. Remember what Friar Hemm said? He said you cannot change what others do and you shouldn’t let their actions guilt ye.”
He held her and set his head on her shoulder. “Perhaps that is true. But I never suspected my mother was involved in the treachery.”
“I’m sorry, Graeme.”
“As much as I despise my mother for what she did, I deem she might be a wee bit maddened herself. She was shouting, saying disturbing things about my father and me. I am glad to see her gone. At least my father will have peace before he departs.”
Kerrigan squeezed his hand. “That must not have been easy for you. Was Magaidh upset? Where’d you send her?”
Graeme signed. “She didn’t seem upset by the banishment. Mayhap more angry my father or I wouldn’t believe her. She was sent to a farmstead at the edge of our land. ‘Tis several days walk from here.”
“Are we returning to the abbey this day?”
He hefted his satchel onto the bed and tossed in his tunic and other garments. “Aye, I wish to leave by noon. Are you well enough to travel? I ken yesterday was hard on ye.”
“I am well. Worry not for me.” She folded the overdress she’d worn at the wedding but Graeme stopped her.
“I want ye to wear the overdress.” He took a piece of cloth which matched. “It becomes a cloak and will be warmer for our journey.” He attached the hood with ties secured to the loops and set it around her shoulders. “You look fetching. I have something else for you. With all the excitement yesterday, I forgot to give it to you.” He slipped cold metal on her f
inger. “I noticed the ring I gave ye was gone and wanted to replace it.”
She glanced at the band of silver and looked at him in awe. “The ring you gave me dried and I’m afraid it withered away.” Kerrigan adored the grass ring he’d given her, but it wasn’t sturdy and fell apart when they’d been in the boat on the way to the Cameron keep.
Graeme held her hand. “This was my grandmother’s. My grandda wanted me to pass on to my wife, but I couldn’t part with it when I wed Sorcha. I vowed to have a love as great as theirs and now that I do … I wanted you to have a symbol of my love.”
She hugged him, content to stand there the rest of the day, holding him close. “It is beautiful.” The band etched with a design of a shield and an intricate woven pattern. It was the most delicate piece of jewelry she’d ever seen. If she’d had any doubt that he loved her, his gesture outweighed all uncertainty.
“Are ye ready? We have a long journey.”
Kerrigan grabbed her satchel and followed him from the chamber. They stopped by the laird’s chamber to bid him farewell, but he was resting and wasn’t to be disturbed. Graeme didn’t seem saddened he couldn’t see his father once more before they departed. He must’ve seen him earlier. She hoped to see him one more time, for on their return to his lands, his father would likely be gone.
When they reached the courtyard, Anselan and Ewan awaited with horses. They secured a cart to their horses which had something large in the back. Graeme helped her upon the horse and they set off to find the boat they’d stored for their return.
The waterway didn’t take long to reach by horse and they made better time in their return than they had in their arrival. Graeme spoke to Anselan while Ewan put their belongings in the boat.
Kerrigan disliked the boat ride and given the condition she’d been in earlier that morning it would be arduous. But she’d bare it. The sooner they reached the abbey, the sooner they could get the bairn and wee lord settled.
She took Ewan’s hand. “I shall always be indebted to you.”
“Nay, milady, I am your servant and none should ever harm ye whilst I breathe.”
Her cheeks warmed for he was gruff and looked to be a man who lived in the mountains. Even as unkempt with his wild hair, she found him endearing. She wondered if he was smitten by her, for surely he had a way about him even being as reticent as he appeared.
Kerrigan waved to Anselan, and Graeme pushed the boat into the water. He jumped aboard and took the oars. Ewan hefted the object from the back of the cart into the waterway. He shoved it off with his foot, and the two brothers stood and watched it until it sunk. She didn’t ask what it was for she suspected it was Fergus.
Graeme pulled the oars, and the water flowed in the direction they headed. Travel would be much easier with the current in their favor. They were finally on their way.
*****
Sweetheart Abbey appeared in the distance. The first time she’d seen it she’d been in awe for it was a place of sanctuary. With the folklore of Lady Devorguilla’s gesture of love for her husband, made it even sweeter. She recalled thinking about having a love akin to Lady Devorguilla’s and now she did. She understood the adoration the lady felt for her husband and why she carried his heart in an ivory casket until her death. Kerrigan would do the same for her husband, for she loved Graeme with as much of her heart if not more.
Graeme helped her from his steed. She waited while he spoke to the stable lad. His horse was treated well by Eli, the fisherman, so much so that Graeme grumbled about how fat his steed had gotten for nearly a mile after they’d left the farmstead.
Friar Hemm greeted them zealously. The kind clergyman served a good supper and filled Graeme in on the latest political news.
Kerrigan settled by the fire for the snows they contended with during their travels chilled her to the bone. She was happy to be inside and have warmth. Graeme called to her, and she opened her eyes. He stood next to her, and she reached out to touch his face.
“Come, love. We’ll sleep. Ye must be tired.”
They’d been anxious to reach the abbey and rested very little the past two days. She nodded and held onto his arm as they walked the corridor to the chambers where guests stayed.
“Can we see the bairn?”
“Aye, he’s in the room next to ours.”
She stepped in and saw the babe swaddled and slept contently. His sweet face shadowed by the darkness of the room. They slunk back so as not to awaken him or the nurse.
Kerrigan removed her cloak and overdress and slipped into bed. Graeme undressed and tossed his garments on the floor. How like a husband to be uncaring for his garments. He joined her in bed and lay on his stomach with his arm over her abdomen.
“We should hear from James, my comrade, soon about Moray. Hopefully he’ll come and we can meet up with Brodin, Liam, and Heath. Mayhap check on Annag, Finley, and Gilroy.”
“I would like that,” she said, and pulled the covers higher. “I know you worry for your comrades. Has the friar received word from them?”
“Nay he hasn’t. Let us sleep.”
Kerrigan closed her eyes, but the silence of the abbey caused her mind to ramble. She tossed and turned thinking of every scenario possible of Moray’s rescue and the bairn being delivered to the Comyns.
Toward morning, she dozed, but a loud bang forced her to sit up. Their chamber door burst open and a dark figure stood there.
She tried to scream, but nothing came from her mouth. A man, a demon more like, stood at the bottom of the bed. His hair was as black as night and his skin tanned. He wore obscure garments, making him appear as a warrior.
Kerrigan shoved Graeme to get him to awaken. He grumbled and rolled over and ignored her. She punched his arm hard to get him to awaken, and pointed across the chamber.
“What, my love?” He spied the man. “Och, James, you’re here.”
“You … You know this man?” Kerrigan was astounded for she swore they’d been invaded by a long-lost ancient warlord. Much akin to a warrior the bards often sang about in songs of their terrifying deeds.
“Aye, this is James Douglas. James this is my wife, Kerrigan.”
“How’d ye get that lucky, Graeme? She’s bonnier than my horse and my horse is the best looking beast in all the kingdom.”
The man was a complete knave to compare her to his horse. “Do you mind? I would like to sleep while I can.” She pounded her pillow and laid her head upon it.
James bellowed with laughter. “Well now, ye might not be as fortunate as I thought, Graeme. You got a harpy?”
Graeme sat up and kissed her on her cheek. “Nay, she’s as sweet as a docile mare.”
Kerrigan shoved his arm. “Be gone, both of you.”
Her husband pulled a tunic over his head and belted the tartan on his waist. “Rest, my love. I’ll return as soon as I can.”
James guffawed from the doorway. “Christ Almighty, Graeme, let her be. I have news of the Moray. Come and we’ll discuss it whilst your wife continues to slumber.” They left as nosily as James appeared. When Kerrigan discerned his words, she drew in a sharp breath. She wanted to hear the news.
Hastily, she donned garments and slunk from the chamber. She didn’t want them to hear her coming, so she purposely left her slippers behind. It was quite a mistake because her toes froze from the stone floor of the abbey.
She stopped at a window casement and peered through the glass. Light snow drifted down and speckled the ledge. It was near dawn and soon the friar and monks would rise for their morning prayers. Intent to know what was going on, she hurried and sprang to the end of the hallway and listened.
James removed his helmet and cloak. “I saw Robert. He looks well and has taken residence in Galloway. He wanted to see Elizabeth and his sisters before he departs.”
“The Bruce likely hasn’t seen his wife in a long time. I thought him considerate of her even though he’d professed to love his first wife more.”
James nodded. “Aye, ‘tis true b
ut then Isabella was the fairest lass he’d ever seen. He’d been smitten by her from the day he met her at Edward’s court.”
“I worry for him, James. He has lost much in these wars. Will he be victorious as we hope?”
His comrade lowered his chin. “I surely hope so, otherwise what are we doing here? Robert knows what he’s doing and is of fair intelligence. He knows Edward as well, and I am certain he will gain the allies he needs. I told him my plan to recoup the Moray lad. He is in agreement.”
Graeme sat across from him and tied the strings of his tunic. “Have ye made contact with the Comyns?”
“They know of the bairn for the Comyn’s men have been searching for the lass. I told them I’d bring their kin, and they agreed to free the wee Moray.”
“This is good news, James.”
“Aye, ‘tis that. I will leave later this day with the bairn. After I rest, that is, I’ve been riding for days. I long for a comfortable bed and a few hours of sleep.”
“A well-deserved rest, I’d say. Did ye speak of us to Robert?”
James shook his head. “The Bruce asked about the reports of the king’s guard for word has spread of your renown. He’s heard of you and your comrade’s deeds.”
“Does he believe them?”
James laughed. “Aye, the Bruce is superstitious. He deems ye might be ghosts. ‘Tis the truth he doesn’t ken what to believe. But you’ve got his attention. Ye best be careful in your dealings.”
“We will. Is the Bruce staying in the north for the winter?”
“Robert said we were due for respite. He’s awaiting his wife and sisters in Galloway and will spend a wee bit of time there. He’s corresponding with his allies.”
