The Draig's Woman

by Wadler, Lisa Dawn

  Ian’s smooth baritone voice disrupted her confusion. “Are you finished with your training, lass?” Claire felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind as she melted her back against him. Enjoying the feel of being wrapped in his arms, she practically purred with pleasure. Turning without breaking their contact and curling her arms around his neck, she looked up to meet his gaze. “Why, Ian? Why does this have to be so wrong?”

  Ian moved his face to a mere breath away from hers. “Shhh, sweeting, what could be wrong about this?” Ian’s lips met hers in a soft sweet lingering kiss while her hands moved to his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Their mouths were in perfect harmony as they leisurely explored each other. A small whimper escaped her lips, as the kiss was softly broken. With gentle hands on her hair and face, Ian asked, “Michael does nay approve, does he?”

  Savoring the feel of Ian, like this, close to her, she said. “He worries about me. Michael is afraid that I will get hurt.”

  Ian’s lips found hers again, just a gentle brush. “Would it hurt? Does it hurt you, sweet Claire? To love me like you do?”

  Claire’s eyes opened to the light of the new day. She could hear the waves in the distance crashing against the cliffs while the word “yes” formed on her lips.

  Claire walked beyond the gates of the keep into the bright afternoon sun. She was glad the day was warm. In another circumstance she might have enjoyed the walk to the training field but not today. No one ever wanted to be the bearer of bad news. The sight of the forty or so men practicing their combat skills was something that still overwhelmed her. Metal rang on metal, and the air was filled with good-natured taunts and mild cursing. Her body longed to grab a weapon and join instead of searching for Ian.

  Finding her target, Claire paused to watch Ian and Hagan battle each other. Their strength was obvious as was their stamina. Both men were sweating heavily as they continued to hack away at each other. There was none of the grace of the eastern style in which she had been trained; they were simply trying to wear the other down. Moving closer, it was obvious they had noticed her, and Hagan took advantage of Ian’s loss in concentration and knocked him in the side with the flat of his sword.

  “You will pay for that, brother. I had stopped to see what Claire wished.” Ian was clearly surprised to see her. She never left the study this early in the day. “Have you come to train, lass?” He laughed as the men closest to him shared in this jest.

  Claire’s eyes lit up immediately. “Could I?”

  “Forgive me. I jest with the wrong woman,” Ian teased.

  “I get it. Wouldn’t want to make your men look bad now, would you?” Claire’s quick reply earned her praise and a chuckle from the men closest to Ian.

  “What brings you here?” Ian asked as he stepped closer.

  “I’ve finished with the books, and there are a few things we need to discuss.” Seeing that Ian was waiting for her to continue, she added, “I should say we need to talk in private, as you need to see what I have found.”

  At the statement, Ian’s face grew more serious. He quickly responded, “I will clean up and meet you in the study shortly.”

  “Sounds great.” Claire turned to head back but couldn’t resist the opportunity before her. “Hagan, a word with you.” Not waiting, she stood in front of him.

  Hagan’s breath was still winded from the afternoon’s exertions. “Is something wrong with Aliana?”

  “No, nothing at all. I’m sorry if I worried you.” Claire’s head tilted at bit sideways as she took him in. “I was just wondering why you let Ian constantly hit you on your left side?”

  Hagan’s mouth opened in shock before he answered gruffly, “Do you think to criticize me, cousin, before the men I train?”

  Claire could see he was a bit angry at her interference. It was nothing new; men were always a bit upset when she corrected their form. “No insult is intended. I was paying attention, and your left side is your weak one. Not due to lack of strength, but your balance. Hand me your sword, and I’ll show you.” She held out her hand, nothing. In a soft voice, “I am not trying to embarrass you, only correct something simple. Trust me, I’ve done this before.”

  Hagan put the sword into her empty hand, and Claire tested the balance by swinging the blade in small figure eights using only her wrist. “I had forgotten that you have trained to handle a sword. You handle that well, cousin.”

  “It’s a fine weapon.” Claire stopped her motion and noticed that most of the men had stopped their practice to watch her. It wasn’t the first time she had interrupted a class. “The problem is in your footwork.” She proceeded to demonstrate where Hagan’s misstep occurred and how to place the foot for better support and balance before she handed the sword back. “There, now you try.”

  At first it was a bit awkward, and then as Claire moved his foot where she wanted it, Hagan swung again. “I cannot believe the difference this makes.” Hagan turned to stare at her with a bit of wonder. “Forgive me for forgetting that you bear such skills.” Hagan noticed his men watching and called out, “Beware men, the women of my clan know how to handle a sword.” His laughter broke the moment effectively, sending the men back to their training. He looked at Ian. “Come, brother, one more time. I would see if this truly works.”

  Claire knew Ian had caught every moment. His eyes had burned into her back as she assisted Hagan. Responding to Hagan’s request, Ian said, “Once more, then the duty of my study calls.”

  The men started their mock battles once again. She cheered as Hagan used his newly found balance and bested Ian.

  “Lass, ‘tis bad form to cheer for other than the laird,” Ian teased.

  “I was merely supporting my cousin.” With a quick wink to Hagan, Claire spoke to Ian. “I’ll be in the study whenever you are ready.” Leaving the training field, she made her way back to the keep. She was not looking forward to what came next.

  Usually when Ian met her in the study there was a warm smile to greet him, but not this day. “What is it you wished to speak of Claire?”

  Her somber expression matched her gray dress. Moving to his customary seat across from her, he felt his apprehension grow.

  She steadied herself with a deep breath. “I have some bad news for you, and honestly I don’t quite know where to begin.”

  Claire’s hands clenched on the ledgers, and it was obvious she was nervous about what had been discovered. Willing himself to stay calm and to control his own fear, Ian offered, “Start where you think is best.”

  Turning the ledger to face Ian, she began, “I had to go through some of the older books, and it helped me understand what should be logged and in what format. There were a lot of discrepancies between what was recorded only five years ago to what I found in the books from the last year or two.”

  Ian sat a little straighter. “Are you saying the last year or two are done poorly?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Claire let out a sigh. “Forgive me, I am going to need to be really blunt. The man who last cared for your accounts was stealing from you, or at least that is what I believe I am seeing.” She went on to show him the older logs, from his father’s time, the rents, the livestock, the coin, and the tax receipts. “You can see how everything is, well, simply laid out.” She showed Ian the more recent ledgers where there was a change. “The formats remained the same, everything listed separately, but more is added to the end of each cycle. It looks like livestock was sold and the coin never recorded in your accounts. Rents were shown as collected, but again, only a portion was entered here.”

  Listening to Claire, seeing the truth in the pages before him, was a shock to his system. A man he had trusted had stolen a great sum from him all the while leaving an obvious trail for any who wished to look. The real problem was that Ian had never looked, much too content to leave thes
e matters in someone else’s hands. Hagan was correct: as laird, these matters were his duty to oversee, not merely delegate.

  “There’s more.” Claire was waiting for Ian to process what she had told him. “The taxes are not as up to date as you had believed.”

  Finally, news he was aware of. “This much I ken already. This year’s taxes have yet to be paid. They are merely a bit late.” Ian spoke with confidence that in this matter he was current.

  “I remember that. We spoke of this when I asked to handle your accounts a few weeks ago,” Claire answered.

  Ian could feel the moment shift, and he knew this would be the deathblow that sealed his fate. “Tell me, lass, and tell me now.” Hearing the anger start to rise in his voice, he could do nothing to stop it. The brave lass didn’t even acknowledge this.

  “It’s more than the taxes for this year.” She pulled out a different book along with loose parchment. “The books show your taxes as paid. He logged the date and the amount you gave him to give the collectors. Yet the receipts given to him only show about half of that money going to the Crown.”

  When she paused, he demanded the rest. “Dinna stop now. This matters too much for you to stop now.” Ian’s voice was harsh as he tried to remember what had been so important to him before, what had he been doing that mattered so much more than his duty as laird.

  “The last two years’ payments were half of what they should be. The truth is that you owe two full years to the Crown plus a small fee because a portion is late.” Claire drew a deep breath as the last of the news left her lips.

  Ian hands rose to cover his face and pull the hair at his scalp. His fate was sealed. The dowry promised was needed more than ever. Any hope he may have carried in his heart died. Looking across the table, he was amazed at how Claire had the courage to deliver this. He wondered when her hope had died.

  “There is a bit of good news. It doesn’t quite balance what I just told you, but it may help.”

  “At this moment I will take anything.” Ian’s voice seemed flat, even to his own ears.

  “If you look at your rents, you bring in a fair amount here. Now it all goes where it should. The livestock is doing well and should produce a decent wool crop this fall. Your accounts are currently okay. Provided the harvest is good, this winter will be easy to manage even if it is a hard one.”

  “Do you truly believe this?”

  She offered a smile for the first time since Ian entered the room. “I know so. Have a look for yourself.” Claire showed him the numbers as she spoke. “The coin due to you now comes to you. Every week I would like to sit with you and go over the books. After what you just saw, it may help to be the one who does the final entries and the counting and . . .”

  Without waiting for her to finish, he said, “There is trust between us. I will not argue that I should spend more time here handling my duties. We will meet as is needed, and we will review things together.”

  As her posture relaxed, she said, “I’m glad you feel that way. Besides, I need the job, remember?” She offered a small smile at the comment.

  “The job is still yours, for as long as you wish. Is there more?” Ian prayed silently there would be no more.

  “I do have one more thing. This one confuses me a bit.” She pulled yet more documents into view. “You used to collect rents and profits from a mine. As far as I can tell, it was part of your mother’s dowry. When your parents married, it was quite profitable. Over the years, the production slowed, but a nice sum was still paid once a year. It has been almost three years since a payment was made.” Making sure to capture Ian’s full attention, Claire said, “Someone owes you coin.”

  “Finally, fine news.” Ian studied the papers and ledger before him, wondering again how he knew nothing about any of this. “Did the man Bryan steal this as well?”

  “I don’t think so. The payments stop before his handwriting takes over. He may have never noticed it was missing.”

  “He did not have your attention to detail.” She flushed over this compliment. “‘Tis possible the mines stopped producing and notice was never received here.”

  Claire took the ledgers from him and found the correct entries. “It’s possible I suppose but doubtful. The amount had gone down for several years, but that changed two years before payments stopped. The amount had been doubling, not getting smaller. There is something here worthwhile. It may not pay the taxes, but it would more than cover the costs of a weak harvest.”

  Ian studied the ledgers. “You speak truth as always, Claire. This land is a good two days’ ride from here,” Ian’s voice stopping as he saw the lands in his mind. “‘Tis very near to where we met. ‘Tis an odd fact.”

  He could see her mind absorb the oddity before she asked, “Do you think there may be a connection?”

  Thinking about the implications, he said, “‘Tis hard to say. I will see to sending some men to investigate.” Claire rose to come stand by his side, and the pain in his heart returned.

  “Then my work is done for now.”

  Rising to stand before her, Ian asked, though he knew the answer, “‘Tis all finished?”

  “For the moment anyway. Now that things are caught up, it should be a simple matter to keep them up to date. I believe the next big task comes in when . . .” Claire’s eyes shifted away from his to find his chest, “Until it is time to log the dowry and see to the tax payment.”

  The only sound heard came from the crackle of the fireplace and their breathing, the reality of what must be changing the mood. Without thought, Ian’s hands pulled Claire into him, wrapping her in a soft embrace, holding her against him as his face rested on her hair. He was grateful when her arms found their way around his waist. For a while, this simple embrace said it all.

  With Claire in his arms, he felt everything he wanted in life evaporate. No longer would his nights be filled with their conversation and laughter. The images that haunted his thoughts of when he could carry her to his bed left his heart in a painful rush. His fate was set in stone. Claire would never be his wife.

  In a voice meant only for her ears, he said, “All this while I had hope, sweet Claire. I carried the hope that your skill would find the funds I needed to stop what has been set in motion. Someway you would succeed where I had failed. Instead, my failure to do the work before me has left me trapped. I had hoped to be able to choose and to offer what I wished in my heart to have. Do you ken what I am saying to you?”

  “I believe you had mentioned wishing to wed with the Campbells.”

  In a flash, her face was in his hands, forcing Claire’s eyes to meet his, giving her a full view of his heartache. “Dinna play games, not now! Not about this.” He felt her try to pull away from his grip, but refused to let her go. “Answer me, Claire, do you ken what I have told you?” Not getting any response, Ian growled, “If you dinna answer me, I will speak of everything, everything I hold inside. I swear I will tell you of the thoughts that keep me awake at night. Every want and desire will be shared with great detail. Do you wish to hear it all?”

  Claire answered as her eyes closed. “I heard you, Ian, and I know what you said.” Immediately the touch was soft as his hands held her, pulling her once again against him, wrapping her within his embrace.

  Holding Claire for as long as he dared, he knew he had to let go. Against her head, Ian whispered, “You will never ken how sorry I am.” Placing a soft kiss against her hair and releasing her, Ian left.

  Chapter 12

  Claire wasn’t sure how long she stood alone in the study. Ian’s scent still filled her senses, though her body was now cold without his warmth wrapped around her. The dull ache that filled her chest daily had become a sharp pain. She needed to leave this chamber or the heartbreak would cripple her.

  Commotion upstairs drew her attention as she wandered the hal
l with no true goal in mind. She hoped there was something distracting up there. Women scurried in and out of the chambers, some with stacks of linens, while others carried pails and cloths.

  Spotting Neala in the corridor, she asked, “Can I help with something?”

  Neala smiled at Claire. “I am surprised to see you up here, ‘tis early. Do you need a break from the accounts, child?”

  The use of the word “child” still made her smile. “Well, I’m done for the moment, things are up to date. With all of the noise I thought maybe you could use some more hands.” She noted the commotion of the women in the corridor. “What is going on up here?”

  “The chambers need to be readied for the bride, her father, Tavis, and the men of rank he will bring with him. Extra hands would be a blessing today.” Without waiting, Neala led Claire into the chamber across the corridor from Ian’s own.

  Stepping inside, she was quick to note it had to be one of the best rooms in the keep. Not quite as nice as Ian’s, but certainly as large. This one also boasted a large fireplace with better chairs strewn with pillows and a table between the two. She noted the bed was large. Even if the frame was not ornate, it was beautiful. The window held a view to the side yard where she liked to play with Cerwyn, and the ocean was just past that. The room had obviously been cleaned, and the fresh air from the ocean breeze scented the space. Turning to find Neala, she said, “It’s lovely in here.”

  “I agree, ‘tis a fine chamber. Normally it is saved for the use of high-ranking guests. Never would I have believed the purpose for which it shall be used.” Neala shook her head in disgust. “If you stand on the far side of the bed, we can make quick work of this task.”