Not looking at Claire, Hagan answered, “Ian will blame me for this. My hand is the only one he will see in this business.” Noting Aliana attempting to soothe him, she looked back at the woman rising from the cart.
Feeling her heart beat a bit too loudly, she took a first look at the woman Ian would wed. If Claire was dressed in the best, the bride exemplified the worst. The bride’s gown was more of a sack, with no shape or style evident. The material seemed rough and dirty even over the distance. The woman was no better. Built like her father, the bride was short and heavyset with the same facial features, which were not any better on a feminine face. Mairi’s dark hair was bound in a simple braid. What struck Claire most was the fear visible on this poor woman’s features. Her head was bowed as her hands wrung themselves, her shaking evident for all to see.
So fixated was she on the bride, she barely noticed the men approaching their gathering. Hagan’s voice intruded on her observations. “And this is my cousin, Claire. She is responsible for the accounts and helps to care for my son, the current heir.”
Mimicking the small curtsy Aliana made, Claire offered, “Greetings to you.”
Ignoring the leer from Laird Tavis, she noted the men in his company. These were his strength; that much was obvious. All of them were built and in shape like the warriors of the Draig clan. Tavis’s voice had a nasal tone as he introduced one of them to Hagan. “This is Nolen, first among my men. He has full authority to act on my behalf should a need arise.”
Hagan and Nolen grasped hands in a strained greeting, and then Aliana offered her hand. As Nolen moved to Claire, her mind took him in instantly: nice looking, light brown hair, clear skin, clean shaven, attractive features, pristinely clean—unlike the rest of them—and blue eyes, very cold blue eyes. As Nolen’s hand reached for hers in greeting, she stepped backward, her body immediately reacting with distrust.
Nolen’s voice was smooth as he grasped her hand. “As always, Hagan, the women of your clan are lovely.”
Thankful to pull her hand away, Claire stepped aside as the men moved into the keep. The bride had been given to Neala to get settled. It was her place as Hagan’s cousin to join Aliana in seeing her welcomed and settled into her chamber. Following the women upstairs, she listened to the housekeeper talk of the keep and how all looked forward to meeting their laird’s bride.
The bride had yet to make a sound until they entered her chamber. A small gasp was audible as the woman sank to her knees. Grabbing Neala’s hands, Mairi’s voice was panicked, “Why have you brought me here? Please, anywhere but here.”
Neala stared at the woman on her knees. “Why, this is your chamber. ‘Tis the finest we have. If something here is amiss, speak it, and I will see it corrected.”
Still with panic, Mairi whispered in a nasally voice, “I was told I would not have to share the laird’s chamber, not yet.”
Neala rose to her feet and pulled the woman up with her. “‘Tis your chamber, prepared for you only. The laird’s chamber is across the corridor.”
Moving back to her knees, Mairi’s hands pressed together before her as if praying, and she stayed like that. The three women stood mutely as the other prayed, for what they couldn’t understand from her mumbling.
Several things became evident. As her things were brought up by one of the men, it was clear that Mairi had brought little with her, only one sack containing everything she owned. The girl wore a dirty gown, very dirty. Her body and hair were in the same state of filth. The fresh ocean breeze and the fire burning with herbs were no match for the foul aroma coming from the woman. The bride was filthy, and she stank.
The color drained from Aliana’s face. Leaning into Claire, she whispered, “I cannot stay in here, I will lose my meal if I do. Forgive me, cousin.” She hurried from the chamber after a weak excuse about seeing to her son.
Not quite sure what to do now, Claire stood, waiting for Neala to provide a hint of what was next.
“My lady, this keep boasts the finest bathing chamber I have ever seen. Mayhap you would like to,” Neala stumbled over her words, “like to wash off the dust of travel and change into a clean gown?” Neala moved to stand in front of the woman and repeated her offer.
Finally moving to stand and look at them, Mairi spoke, “There is no need. The flesh is weak and matters not.” She squinted to gaze around the chamber. “‘Tis a fine chamber. I have never seen one like it.”
Concern filled Neala’s next inquiry. “But you are a laird’s daughter. Surely the convent gave you fine rooms and much consideration.”
“What?” Mairi shook her head. “There is no consideration of the flesh when one works for salvation. The sins of vanity and comfort lead only to temptation. I need to go back. Can you not make them see I need to go back?” Mairi’s voice rose to an almost hysterical volume, and her eyes darted everywhere and nowhere all at once.
Neala’s voice was calm as she worked to reassure her. “My lady, if you wish for some things to be removed, we can do so. We only sought to make your chamber ready for a woman of your rank. All here will do as you ask, so tell me what you wish done.”
“I wish to leave and return to the convent to take my final vows. My place is there, nay here.” Mairi’s voice trailed into incoherent mumblings, and she paced erratically throughout the room.
Taking up the bag containing her belongings, Neala’s head shook in disbelief as she removed two equally filthy gowns, a few shifts, and some type of half-finished needlework. “Where are the rest of your things, my lady?”
Mairi grabbed the bag. “‘Tis all I need.” Moving to shove them into the trunk at the foot of the bed, Mairi once again paced and muttered.
Neala stepped to Claire’s side. “There is something verra wrong with her.”
Attempting to keep her voice low, Claire replied, “I don’t know what to make of her. Do you think maybe she’s just nervous?”
“I have seen nervous, and this is not it. Her mind, child . . . I believe she is a bit lost in her mind.”
Mairi paced. Seeing her crazy pattern of movements and listening to the mutterings, Claire could only agree. “What do we do now?”
With a heavy sigh, Neala replied, “We make her comfortable, as much as she will allow. Mayhap a wee bit of kindness will help. I have heard stories of some convents. Most are fine places where a lass can grow in safety, taught all she will need, and given comfort with religious guidance. Then there are others, and these places are cruel and hard. ‘Tis my fear this is where she came from.”
Claire jumped as she heard Neala’s name called from the corridor. Turning to her, Neala said, “Forgive me this, but I need to go. Can you stay with her until I return?”
“Sure, just hurry back please.” With a squeeze of her hands, Neala left Claire alone with Mairi. Walking to the chairs before the fire, she removed all of the cushions.
“My lady, will you sit with me? There is wine if you are thirsty.” She was surprised as Mairi came to join her at the chairs by the fireplace. Claire nodded when Mairi silently questioned taking a seat. A sigh of relief left her when the fidgeting woman stilled in her chair.
Mairi took a loud slurp of the wine and then wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She looked at Claire and asked, “Who are you?”
Claire knew they had been introduced at least twice. “I’m Claire, Hagan’s cousin. I am in charge of the accounts and help to take care of Cerwyn, Hagan and Aliana’s son.” Hoping the woman’s eyes would focus on something, she continued, “I haven’t been here long, but it’s a very nice place to live. Everyone has been kind to me, and I know they will treat you the same.”
A quiet Mairi responded, “Do you truly believe that?”
Offering a small smile, she continued, “Of course I do, you will see for yourself. There is to be a special meal tonight prepared for you, to welcome
you.”
“To welcome me?” Mairi’s voice held only the question. “I don’t understand.”
“Everyone is glad you are here, that is all I meant,” she offered with a smile.
“Oh.” Mairi’s gaze darted back and forth as she barely acknowledged the comment.
Not sure what to do with so little to work with, Claire offered, “Would you like to see your new home? I could show you the keep or the grounds, whatever you prefer.”
Mairi stood and then fell to her knees. “I would pray, Claire. Leave me.”
Guilty and grateful for the dismissal and surprised to hear her name again, Claire stopped her progress to the door. “Are you the woman the laird keeps?”
Shocked to hear this, Claire quickly retorted, “No.”
Mairi’s head was still bowed. “I meant no insult. I would meet her, give her my thanks, and pray for her soul even though she lives with sin.”
“There is no one for you to meet, my lady,” Claire answered.
It could have been me, but I denied him to give both of you a chance at a happy marriage.
Mairi answered sadly, “I had hoped and prayed there was. Now I must pray even more, pray for deliverance from his evil lusts. Leave me, Claire.”
She stood then shook her head and walked to the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mairi kneeling in a corner, praying with a crazy fervor. Closing the door behind her, Claire went in search of Neala.
Chapter 16
The evening meal went on forever. The hall was packed with all of the warriors of the visiting clan and those of the Draig clan, complete with their wives and children. Ian sat on one side of the table next to Mairi with Laird Tavis across from him. Hagan was seated next to the bride with Aliana across from him. Claire had been placed between Aliana and Nolen. As was his way, Cerwyn bounced between the women’s two laps.
Toasts to the joining of the two clans began the evening. Ian stood and stared vacantly as he thanked Tavis for his daughter and the peace between them. Not once did his eyes travel to the fidgeting, mumbling woman he was destined to marry. There was no emotion in anything he said, it seemed only a speech for the sake of duty.
Tavis offered no eloquent speech, simply a quick thank you for the hospitality and a call for someone to bring him more wine. Claire noticed that he didn’t even acknowledge his daughter or her place in the mock celebration of the event to come.
Despite the awkward toasts, Claire couldn’t fail to notice how unbelievably good Ian looked dressed in his best shirt and plaid. Once the formalities had been finished, the meal began. Aliana spent most of the time whispering to her about the terrible manners observed. She was right, both father and daughter shoveled food into their mouths, wiped their hands on their clothes, and spit as much as they swallowed.
Never had Claire been so grateful for Cerwyn on her lap. The child’s presence allowed her to mostly ignore Nolen. The man tried to make conversation all night, which might have been acceptable, but his eyes never left the cut of the bodice of her gown. Claire had to accept his dagger when she needed to cut meat for the child. Before last night, she never would have thought twice about the significance of the offer. As the blade was placed in her hand, she heard Ian’s cup hit the table hard. She refused to look at him, cut her food, and simply returned it.
The conversation had been strained throughout the hall. It was clear the two clans had issues finding common ground. Only Nolen appeared unfazed by the awkward gathering. His gaze took in everything, and he commented on all he saw to Claire. She should have been at ease, as he was polite and spoke of light pleasant things, plus he was clean. Instead, he made her tense, and her skin crawled with the light touches he made throughout the meal.
When the meal was finished, Lady Mairi abruptly stood and asked permission from her father to be dismissed. Without a glance her way, she had been waved off. It seemed the rules had changed with her arrival. When Mairi left, all the women gathered their children and departed. Claire and Aliana were not an exception. Apparently at a formal meal such as this one, Mairi controlled the events. Claire felt Ian’s eyes on her as she left the hall, but she never turned to look.
With Cerwyn and Aliana both in their beds, Claire now had time alone. She sat before the fire in her chamber and combed through her hair and the events of the day, and wished she were not alone.
She wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed as she stared at the flames. The knock at her door startled her out of quiet contemplation. To her surprise, Hagan was waiting for her. He never came to see her. Immediately she assumed the worst. “What’s wrong? Is it Cerwyn or Aliana?”
Hagan waved off the concern. “Neither, there is nothing amiss.” He paused before entering the chamber. “I have never come here to see if you have all you need. ‘Twas poorly done of me.
“I’m fine. Why are you really here, Hagan?” The last thing she needed was polite nonsense.
He turned to face her. “I did well in claiming you as a member of my clan. My wife and son are fortunate to have you. In all ways, you have been a fine member of my family.” A small upturn of his lips revealed a small grin. “And I did not offer you the mark.”
Her day had been too long, and she was not in the mood for word games. “What are you talking about?”
Hagan paused to loosen the ties on his shirt to show Claire a tattoo on his left shoulder. “This mark. It has great meaning. It lets all ken that I saved the life of the laird. In truth, this should have been offered upon your arrival, but other matters occupied my thoughts. The other day on the training field I was reminded of your skill and that you saved Ian’s life. ‘Tis simply an offer that should be made.”
She closed the distance to see the tattoo, roughly the size of a silver dollar and closely resembling a yin-yang symbol. “While I’m sure it’s an honor, I’ll pass. When did you save Ian’s life?” My mother would kill me if I got a tattoo.
“It was his father’s life I saved. We were out hunting and attacked by a small band of raiders. ‘Twas no great battle, but I stopped a sword from reaching the laird’s back and in doing so earned this mark.” Hagan’s pride was clear in his explanation.
Claire could feel that there was more Hagan did not say. “And with everything that has happened today, you felt now was the right time to offer to mark me?”
Hagan closed his shirt. “Let us just say that it was part of my reason and mayhap my excuse for coming to see you. I did not believe you would stay away from Ian or that he would let you. I am not surprised often, but in this I am.”
Her surprise turned to quick anger. “I gave you my word. I always keep my promises.”
Hagan softened his voice, “Forgive me, Claire. You hear insult when I offer praise. Your presence here has marked a change in Ian. He now focuses on caring for the clan. ‘Tis your hand I see in all Ian does. You could have, by rights, been angry or bitter at your life here. Instead, you have worked hard, made yourself a fine companion to all, and brought order to many things.” Hagan cut off Claire’s reply. “Did Aliana speak to you of our marriage?”
Why are we talking about this? Claire answered, “She did. It was quite the story.”
“I had promised myself I would leave her alone, that Aliana was too elevated for a man like me. Yet every day, I did all I could to be near her and to speak with her. When she came to me that night”—a smile of fond remembrance crept over his features—“it never once crossed my mind to send her away. My desire for Aliana was too great. Some things are simply meant to be.” He paused in the tale to gauge Claire’s reaction. “If Aliana had not come to me that night, I would have eventually gone to her. In truth, I would have hacked her door to pieces with my sword if Aliana had refused me entry. Please dinna repeat that to my wife.”
She smiled despite everything the day had brought. “I won’t s
ay anything, but I think Aliana wonders if you would have pursued her.”
Hagan answered with a mischievous grin. “I ken that verra well.”
Claire sat on her bed as the weight of that day combined with the lack of sleep stole the strength from her. “Is that all, Hagan?”
“Nay, cousin.” Hagan sat next to her and let the pain show in his face. “Ian is not speaking to me. He blames me for Mairi. I found the match and the dowry, and ‘tis my hand that set it in motion. Dinna shake your head at me. I ken he is aware of how it came to be needed, but for now Ian needs someone to blame. One of us needs to check on him and offer him a place to speak freely.”
Claire reached to take Hagan’s hand. “I don’t think it should be me. There is a lot you don’t know. Ian may not be talking to me either.” She rose from the bed and walked toward the fire, aware of Hagan rising to stand behind her.
“There is little I am nay aware of, Claire. Who do you think kept Ian away from your chamber last night?” Hagan paused. “You kept your promise to me, and the marriage will happen as planned. The rest is your choice. I will nay guide you one way or the other.” He moved away from her, toward the door. “Think on it. Nay a soul here would fault either of you for seeking happiness in this life.” Then Hagan was gone.
The phrase “happiness is this life” drifted through her mind. Claire could have sworn she moved only to close the door that had been left open, but she found herself walking the corridors. She spied one of the serving women knocking on Ian’s door, and she moved to intercept. Ian’s barked reply could be heard as the woman placed the cup and pitcher in Claire’s hand. She took a deep breath and entered Ian’s chamber.
The Draig's Woman Page 16
