The Draig's Woman

by Wadler, Lisa Dawn

  Ian stared at Neala as she spoke. “Claire will have a home here for as long as she wishes. She is one of ours now. The lass saved my life, and I will spend mine making sure she is safe.”

  It was not what Neala wanted to hear. With a nod, she turned to leave. “Get yourself into the bath before you catch a chill. I have left the poor child alone for too long.”

  As she left, Ian’s voice filled the corridor. “Hagan, there is something I would ask of you.” Then Neala heard no more, her mind focused on the lass waiting.

  With a soft knock on the door, Neala entered the chamber. Claire took a moment to study this woman before her. The housekeeper appeared to be well dressed compared to what she had seen before. Her long dark hair, peppered with gray, was bound in a long braid behind her back. She was shorter than Claire by about three inches. The housekeeper was slight of build but moved with an air of confidence. Her face held some light wrinkles, as she was definitely older. She seems like she may be about Mom’s age? The woman’s eyes held her now. Neala looked upset.

  Claire rose from her chair. “Is something wrong?” She was stunned as the older woman moved in quickly to embrace her.

  With a gentle squeeze, Neala answered, “‘Is something wrong?’ you ask. Aye, you poor child, something is wrong.” Neala pulled back. “Ian told me of you, of how you came to be here, and of what happened. You poor lost child, you should nay be here, should you?”

  Claire broke away from the hold and sat on the bed. Looking up at the woman, she asked, “What did Ian tell you?”

  Neala sat beside her and held her hands as she answered. “The laird told the whole of it.” Neala gripped Claire’s hands tighter as she continued. “It was right of him to do so. I had assumed, well, never mind what I assumed. I needed to ken. Now I can be of aid to you. I will be here to help you find your way. This I swear to you.”

  In such a small voice, Claire asked, “Does everyone know?”

  “Nay, child, just myself and Hagan, his brother by marriage. We will nay tell another soul. Ian felt we needed the truth. Now you ken with whom you can speak freely. We are in your debt as well. You brought our laird home safely. Oh, you poor thing, you have risked yourself, and now, now you are here. I never truly believed the tales were real. But here you are. We will see to it you are properly cared for.”

  “Neala, have you ever heard of anyone going back? I . . . I . . . I just want to go home.” Claire looked up and felt the tears that threatened to fall. “Can I go home, please?”

  Answering with a kind voice, Neala said, “I have only heard of people coming to us. They all stayed. I dinna believe they had a choice.” She smoothed Claire’s hair away from her face. “I am sorry. ‘Tis my belief you are here to stay.”

  With those words, the tears Claire had restrained began to fall. There was no stopping them. She cried and, tucked into Neala’s embrace, was held as she sobbed. There was no going home. She was stuck there. The reality of it was too much. What had happened was too much. The tears fell, and still Neala held her while whispering soft words of comfort.

  When the sobbing subsided, she found her head resting on Neala’s lap with her hair being stroked and back gently patted. Claire slowly sat up, wiping her face on the robe, sniffling. “I’m sorry.”

  Neala’s warm smile greeted her. “Dinna apologize, child. After all you have been through, a good cry was deserved. I have a question or two if you feel you are up to it.” Claire nodded, and Neala continued. “I dinna ken how to say this delicately, so I will simply ask it. What happened between the two of you? Was it forced?”

  Claire closed her eyes as guilt and shame took hold. “Ian told you about that, too?”

  Neala answered quietly, “Ian told me his version. I want to ken yours. I want to ken if you will truly feel safe here in time or if Ian will be a source of fear for you.”

  Studying her hands as she spoke, Claire replied, “Ian didn’t . . . I mean . . . there was no force involved.” Once the explanation began, she couldn’t stop. “It just happened. One minute it was the two of us, and then there were horrible men. They said such terrible things.” Shuddering at the memory, the late panic taking hold, her heart raced. “They talked to me, and I had to talk to them. They looked at me. I’ve never been so scared. They watched, they said things . . .” Tears again burst free, and Claire found her head on Neala’s shoulder.

  With a sniffle, she continued, “The rest? It just happened. I didn’t mean to, but it just got out of control. I don’t normally behave that way . . . I never behave that way . . . I didn’t try to stop it. At the time I didn’t want to stop. I . . . I . . .” Claire’s voice faltered.

  “I’m nay judging you, child. Now, I ken you have no fear of him. Why did you nay let Ian claim you?”

  Resting on Neala’s shoulder, Claire answered, “I didn’t think it was the right thing to do. Ian told me about his debt and responsibility. That seems to be what matters, not . . . well, what happened between us.”

  A knock at the door surprised them both. “I will see to it, child. ‘Tis most likely one of the lasses with gowns for you.” Neala went to the door, asking as a man entered, “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to meet the lass. Ian made a request, and I told him I needed to speak with her before I would agree.” Hagan’s voice was firm against Neala’s request.

  Answering defensively, Neala spoke, “It can wait ‘til morning. The poor child is tired.”

  “Neala, I will be brief, and it can nay wait.” Hagan walked to stand before Claire. She rose while taking measure of him. He was tall, taller than Ian, yet not as wide. It was clear he was fit and toned. With reddish-blond hair and pale blue eyes, it was obvious he was sizing her up as well. Hagan’s eyes were trying to find some kind of answer on her face. He offered only, “I am Hagan, and I came to offer greetings.”

  Claire took a step closer to Hagan.

  It must be okay if I’m walking toward him. I really hope my radar is still working.

  “I’m Claire, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you and your family.”

  As soon as the smile crossed Hagan’s face, she relaxed. Claire also saw the moment it changed to something else, a face filled with worry. Hagan said, “Lass, I have the need to speak with you. ‘Tis serious business.”

  “All right. I’ll try to help if I can.” Claire looked over to make sure Neala was still there.

  “I am here to see if you are going to change your mind about letting Ian claim you.” Hagan winced as Claire stepped back away from him. With a softer voice, he continued, “I dinna mean to upset you or deny your rights. I am the man who arranged Ian’s marriage and the one who tries to keep the laird to his duty. If Ian’s path is to be altered, I need to be aware of it. Too much rides on these decisions. Forgive me for being so blunt. There is no insult intended.”

  Claire was stunned by how straight to the point he was. Despite what Hagan said, she had always preferred a direct approach. “I thought that was already done. There is no need to keep bringing up the matter.” She didn’t want to talk about it.

  It hurts, so just leave it alone.

  “I mean no harm with this. I needed to hear it from you as well as from him. Too much depends on his betrothal.” Hagan waited for a reply that never came. “It was asked of me to claim you as part of my family. My doing this will give you a place of honor here. My clan is respected, and our name carries weight with the other clans in the area. I do this to give you a history and to thank you for saving Ian’s life in battle. Will you accept what I offer, cousin?”

  “You want me to pretend to be your cousin?” The night had just gotten stranger. Even through her grief and bewilderment, Claire could see Hagan was sincere. She could also read between the lines. Hagan wanted Ian left alone, and this was the bargain. Making sure she was reading the
situation correctly, she asked, “This is a trade, isn’t it? You are offering me some form of security in exchange for . . .” She stammered out the rest, “Instead of me asking Ian for what he, I mean instead of, well you know what I mean.”

  “Aye, Claire, I do. I need your word on your honor that you will let his marriage continue as planned. I shall tell my wife you have come to help with the accounts and to be a companion. Aliana has said many times our wee one should ken more of my clan. That is all she will ken of you. The rest stays here between us.”

  Claire studied his face with the quick realization that she liked Hagan. She was exhausted and incredibly confused, but she knew Hagan’s offer wasn’t made lightly. It was obvious in how he studied and weighed every word she uttered. Unable to think of a better option, Claire held his eyes and said, “I give you my word, cousin.”

  With a heavy sigh, Hagan said, “Welcome to the Douglas clan.”

  “My thanks, Hagan. I had hoped you would do this,” Ian said as he entered the chamber, his gaze immediately landing on Claire.

  Blocking Ian’s path to her, Hagan stated, “The lass and I have an understanding. Claire will be cared for. Now ’tis late and your journey long, mayhap you should seek your bed, Ian.”

  “I will shortly, I promise you. I need to make certain Claire has all she needs. Go back to your bed, brother.” Ian dismissed him. The tone of voice left her with the impression that Ian was used to his commands being met.

  “Aye, that is a fine thought. I left a bonnie warm wife awaiting my return,” Hagan said with a wink to Claire as he left the chamber.

  Ian laughed as he called out the door, “Watch your words. ‘Tis my sister you speak of.”

  Hagan’s laughter echoed as his footsteps faded down the stone corridor.

  She was fascinated by the interaction of the two men. One could see how close they were. It was in every look and gesture between the pair.

  From the corner of the chamber, Neala spoke, “I will let the two of you speak alone. When you are finished, I will return to see you to bed, child.” Neala left quietly.

  Claire forgot the housekeeper when Ian entered. The room suddenly seemed smaller; his very presence filled the space. His hair was damp from washing. He wore only a robe, and the beard was gone. She could now see his face, all of it, the square jaw and full lips. Bright green eyes and dark lashes still dominated his features. The air was filled with the scent of soap and his own unique aroma. Her hand almost reached his cheek before she caught herself and pulled it back down. “You shaved.” It was the only thought safe to vocalize.

  “Aye.” Ian stood directly in front of her, merely a breath apart. She pulled her hand away, but his did not have the same discipline. With a touch to her face, he gently brought her gaze to his.

  She could see a shadow of pain on his features. But, thankfully, Ian said nothing as his fingers touched the area swollen around her eyes. Claire knew she was a disaster; there was no way to hide the fact that she had been crying. Without a word, Ian pulled her to him and held her close.

  Inhaling deeply as Ian wrapped her into his body, Claire could not remember anyone ever smelling so good. No hug had ever been so sweet. One hand rested gently on her back while the other caressed her hair. Her head rested on his broad chest, and she listened to the sound of his heartbeat. Contentment filled her at the simple pleasure of being held by Ian. Wrapped in his strong arms, she felt safe and cherished.

  But she knew it was wrong. Ian couldn’t make any of it better because he wasn’t meant for her. He belonged—or would belong—to another woman.

  “Forgive me, Claire,” Ian whispered against her hair.

  She moved, as the moment needed to be broken. She looked up into his emerald eyes and felt the tears threaten to fall. This time her hand did as it wanted and touched the flawless skin on his face. She whispered, “There is nothing to forgive.” There was more, but she didn’t have the strength to go there again. Letting go once was enough. Doing the right thing had never caused so much hurt. “You should go, I . . . I’m tired. You must be too.”

  Please go. I can’t do this. If you stay, I will beg you to take me with you. Why now? Why you? After waiting all this time for someone, why now? The one man I want is the one I can’t have.

  Ian released her. “Is there aught that you need? I would have you comfortable and provided for, Claire.” But his eyes said something different. She could see what he did not vocalize. His face and body language asked her to change her mind and to take what he offered.

  Ignoring the overwhelming want in her heart and the arms held open for her, Claire answered with a small smile. “Neala has been wonderful. I think I am set for the night.”

  They stood in silence for too long. Each waited for the other to end it and find a way to walk away. Ian finally broke the stalemate, once again closing the space between them. With both hands, he held her face and placed a kiss on her forehead then turned to leave.

  Claire let him go. The tears were hot and silent on her cheeks. There was no resistance when Neala came to her side and helped her into bed. Snuggled under warm blankets and wrapped in soft sheets, Claire fell asleep to the sound of her own sobs and Neala’s comforting words.

  Chapter 7

  Claire looked at the table before her, filled with all of her favorites: guacamole, big burritos, and a large pitcher of margaritas. Sunday dinner with Brooke, and life was just good.

  “Girl, what is wrong with you? You finally find the guy who turns your legs to jelly and you let him walk away? Seriously, first no one is just right, and then one is. Let’s just say you are driving me crazy!” Brooke’s face and tone let out the exasperation she felt.

  “You don’t understand, Brooke, it’s not that simple here. I really believe Ian needs to marry her, whoever she is. Hagan made a huge deal out of it, and I don’t think he’s the type to exaggerate. It’s not like I can pay his bills or feed his people. Whatever there was between us, it’s done. Leave it alone.”

  “Hell no, I won’t leave it alone. I know you better than anyone. Don’t even try to tell me it’s done. If it were me, then it would be done. You don’t live that way, and you never will. I know, Claire.” Brooke’s reply was smug.

  Claire looked at her friend and, not pleased with her arrogant expression, asked, “What do you think you know?”

  “You care about him. You want him to want you. He’s the one, isn’t he? The one from your dreams. Ian’s the one you waited for and the reason no one else was ever good enough.”

  “Stop now. Who do you think you are? I know what to do. I know what’s right.” Claire’s voice carried only anger.

  “You’ve spent too much time with Michael. All his preaching about honor, respect, and integrity.” Brooke laughed as she spoke. ”In a way, it has ruined you. You’re so blinded by what’s right that you can’t see the forest for the trees, can you? It will not just go away. For heaven’s sake, you will see him every day of your life. For your sanity, I hope you find your way back to me.”

  “They told me that I couldn’t come back. I’ll find a way to deal.” Claire looked down at her plate; the thought of not going home was just too painful.

  “Really? Good luck with that. I know I could never deal with looking at that hottie all day.” Brooke pointed behind her and then called out, “You forgot, Claire.”

  She ignored her friend’s parting comment; after all, there was nothing to forget. Her head turned as she felt his gaze on her back. There was Ian in all his glory, standing in a clearing in the woods. He waited for her with a smile so warm and inviting.

  Claire rose to join him. Her feet touched the soft earth, and twigs snapped underfoot. Brooke’s voice called from the distance, “Just remember, sometimes you have to take care of you. If he’s what you want, what you need . . .”

  Ian m
et her halfway; his hands immediately brought her in close. “Sweet Claire, I’ve been searching for you.” Before any reply could be made, he kissed her, his mouth moving on hers while his hands caught in her hair and roamed her back, pulling her yielding body into his.

  Claire couldn’t bring him close enough. Her hands pulled at his back. She needed him closer. The gentle kisses grew to something wild and untamed. Each sought to claim more of the other, tongues dancing, tasting, devouring, and still it was not enough. Claire whimpered as Ian broke the kiss, his hungry mouth moved along the curve of her face and settled just below her ear. “You smell of sweet summer berries, lass.”

  Claire sat up in bed with her heart racing, and for a moment, confusion ruled. She looked around her stone chamber while memories of the previous day took hold. The first light of the new day was visible through the window. Claire shook her head to clear the pain of the dream. Rising from the bed, she put on the robe and hoped she remembered the way to the garderobe. The only thing close to a happy thought she could find was that it was slightly better than peeing in the woods.

  “There you are, child. I was a wee bit concerned when I noticed your door was open and you were gone,” Neala said as she waited in the corridor. “Come with me back to your chamber. ‘Tis early, you can go back to sleep.”

  “I’m awake. I always get up this early,” Claire replied.

  “As do I, and ‘tis a fine thing I will have some company in the quiet early hours.” Neala smiled as she led Claire back to the chamber. “There is a pitcher of water for you to refresh yourself, along with a clean cloth. Take care of your needs while I sort through these. Let’s see if we can’t find you something to wear.” The chair before the fire was covered in dresses.