The Draig's Wife

by Lisa Dawn Wadler

  Wiping the honey from his plate with his finger, his gaze lifted to hers as he sucked the finger clean. Emma ignored the butterflies in her stomach that fluttered as his eyes fixed on her with the act. I’m probably just nervous he’ll condemn this activity, too.

  “Mayhap I could answer if I had more to try,” Declan replied, as he refilled his plate and poured a river of honey over the stack.

  “Now I know where Mary gets her love of sweets,” Emma teased. That the man actually laughed blew her mind. There he was again, the light-hearted, kind man with a sense of humor. She had wondered if that had been her imagination earlier in the week.

  As Declan gushed praise on his daughter, the pair mock-battled for the honey pot, and the table was a place of happiness and light conversation. Emma grinned at her three companions, and the moment felt amazingly like home.

  To her surprise, Declan became stone-faced again in the blink of an eye. His merriment disappeared, and a scowl formed on his lips that still held a single drop of honey. A quick dart of his tongue erased Emma’s focal point and had her skin flushing. All eyes turned to Merrick’s arrival.

  “What are we enjoying this fine morn?” The man sat next to his cousin and gave Emma a broad smile.

  “‘Tis toast from France. I made the meal with Emma’s aid. ‘Tis all that is left, and I am too tired to make more,” Mary said with a dramatic sigh.

  Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Emma piled several slices on a plate for Merrick. Declan only surrendered the honey pot after she glared at him.

  Merrick made a show of studying the food and smelling it then drew out his first taste while Mary squirmed in her seat awaiting his review. He rolled his eyes and fluttered his long brown lashes before making sounds of pleasure for all to hear. Declan scowled, and Mary squealed with delight.

  “I had no idea my wee cousin was so accomplished in the kitchens. ‘Tis so fine, Mary, and so delicious,” Merrick said with a wink for the child.

  Emma mouthed “Thank you” when Merrick winked at her. Looking at the two men seated across from her, it was hard not to note the similarities. The two could pass for brothers. Both had chiseled good looks, broad muscular shoulders, and thick hair, though both kept it pulled back in leather thongs, and Declan’s was longer by a good six inches. The true difference was in the coloring. Where Declan’s hair was almost midnight black and he had intense green eyes, Merrick’s hair was light brown, and he had what Mrs. Rosenblat would have called “melted chocolate eyes.” Both were incredibly handsome, but only Merrick seemed relaxed at the moment. As usual, Declan was back to his cranky and withdrawn self.

  Merrick studied Mary. “Your hair is braided in a new fashion, Mary. ‘Tis verra bonny.”

  “Emma did it. ‘Tis from France also,” Mary replied with a small blush on her cheeks.

  Settling his gaze on her, Merrick amended, “I should have noted the similarity. While your braided hair is lovely, your hair unbound is a sight to behold.”

  “Thank you,” Emma muttered as the blush stole over her face. The flattery was new to her world, and she quickly decided she could become accustomed to it.

  “The dark blue of your gown brings out your eyes. They remind me of the sun glinting on winter’s ice,” Merrick said with a grin. Declan growled, and Cortland cleared his throat.

  “You have said enough before the lass’s father, Merrick,” Cortland reprimanded as he held the man’s gaze.

  “But I say it before you, Cortland,” Merrick said before going back to his meal.

  Cortland nodded, and again Declan growled.

  The man can be so damn moody.

  Pushing her plate aside, Mary asked, “Can we go to the village now?”

  He could deny it all he wanted, but Emma saw the hurt flash over Declan’s face at the request. Despite his current grumbling, it had been a nice family breakfast. “First, there is clean up to do in the kitchen. I asked the women to save some dishes for us. Then we may go if your da approves.” Emma would be a good sport and allow Declan to be active in the decision-making.

  Declan smiled at Mary, one of his rare and unguarded grins. “See to the dishes, then you may go, provided you are back to have the evening meal at my side.”

  “Aye, Da,” Mary said with a huge grin.

  “Emma and Cortland will join me in my study. So, ask the lasses for aid in your task.” Declan turned to Emma. “And you wait for a warrior to take you.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. She had taken a warrior with her every day, just like she promised. When will he realize I am trustworthy?

  Before she could answer, Merrick offered, “I would be pleased to once again be of service.”

  “Thank you, Merrick,” Emma said as she rose from the table. He had been the one to go with them for the last three days. Merrick was funny, quick-witted, and a bit flirtatious. Who am I to argue?

  Sending Mary off to the kitchen, she followed Declan and Cortland to the study with very little curiosity. Settling into the chair before the desk, she waited while Cortland settled into the other at her side and Declan took his place behind the massive table that served as a desk. She sighed. “What have I done this time?”

  “Surprisingly, nothing to annoy me yet.” As she rolled her eyes again, he added, “Though that could change quickly, lass.” Declan handed her a piece of parchment. “You are here to read the edict and other documents that pertain to my Uncle Glenn. We hope a fresh pair of eyes would see what we have missed.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Declan sat back in his chair as Emma’s eyes read the simple edict. Word for word he could have spoken it as he had read it too many times to count. That Emma took so long made him wonder if she could truly read. Yet, he doubted she lied about her skillset in any way. He was merely impatient for an end to his torment.

  With every move she made, he had challenged her, and she rose to meet each one like a warrior poised for battle. In every way, she met his demands. Respect was the thought that crossed his mind while she studied the aged parchment. Many a man would have backed down with the manner he had spoken to her over the last several days. Most lasses would have been in tears; whether real or fake, it did not matter. Emma stood her ground and seemed to keep her word. In his mind, her behavior had been nothing short of admirable. He ignored his wayward thoughts of how lovely Emma looked when standing up to him; his thoughts needed to center on the edict.

  When she looked up at him, Cortland said, “I have spoken with Declan about your previous dealings with legal matters. What I need to tell you is that the matter stays within the walls of this chamber. Do you ken my meaning?”

  “I won’t talk about this to anyone, not even Aalish. I swear it,” Emma said.

  “Do you see a way out?” Declan asked, leaning forward in the chair. He was pleased Cortland had spoken what he did not. The dealings were not to be discussed with anyone, least of all Merrick. While Cortland may have the patience of a saint and the good heart of one, Declan did not. He could not fathom why the old man let his cousin flirt so outrageously with the one he claimed as daughter. That his cousin had dared to steal his thoughts on eyes the color of winter’s ice angered him, not that he would have spoken the compliment aloud for concern over angering Cortland. Apparently, the fact that Emma was not to be touched only pertained to him, which annoyed him in a way he did not fully comprehend.

  Serious eyes held his gaze. “This seems very straight forward. It states you need to be married at age twenty-eight, which could be implied to mean on the day you turn that age. If it had said be married by that age, there might have been room to argue that your first marriage would have been enough. I read it the same as you do. If you are not married, you forfeit your title, lands, and property.”

  “I agree. Now read this,” he said as he handed her a longer contract, the one Glenn and his father
had signed before he and his mother had any children.

  Emma rose with the papers and paced the chamber as she read. Her teeth captured, released, and recaptured her lower lip as she moved, and he pondered if her lips would taste as sweet as her scent. Thankfully, Cortland followed her movements and not his roaming gaze—a gaze that noted the perfection of the gown she wore. The dark blue did bring out her already dramatic eyes and heightened the deep, dark coloring of her hair. It also highlighted the sway of her firm hips and made her small breasts appealing, even to his eye. All were details he should not be paying attention to with his fate on the parchment in her hands.

  Eventually, she sat and frowned. It was enough of an answer. The contract gave his Uncle Glenn claim to all if his parents had no heirs. The man was crafty enough to write himself in as the one who gained all if the terms of the edict were not met. Shame on my parents for trusting my mother’s brother and a curse on that brother for putting his greed before his family.

  “Do you see any place where the contract may nay be binding?” Declan asked. It was all he needed to know.

  “I don’t, and I’m sorry. But I have one question. Is Mary considered property?” Emma asked the question that filled his soul with dread.

  “According to law, she is until she weds, then she becomes her husband’s,” Cortland answered.

  Again, Emma rolled her eyes. “It’s the same in my time, the children part anyway. I learned that much when my grandparents gained custody of me,” Emma said to Cortland before she turned to him. “If you are unable to marry before your birthday, does Mary become Glenn’s property?”

  Sitting back in his chair, Declan admitted his greatest fear. “Aye, Emma.”

  Suddenly, Emma jumped to her feet and stomped around the chamber with accusations burning in her eyes. “You need to do something. Can’t you argue this with someone? Isn’t there a king or someone with some decency you can talk to?” Her journey led her to stand in front of him with daggers shooting from her glare.

  On his feet to meet the accusation, Declan roared, “Do you think I have nay tried? I have spent months at court over the years trying to get the document thrown out as the filth it is. I will spare you the political lessons and simply state none in power give a damn about my claim or my daughter. Glenn promises my wealth to too many.”

  “Can’t you offer them more?” Emma asked with less anger in her voice.

  “Do you think I have nay tried? My uncle has been verra thorough. He has information gleaned through years, make that decades, of spying. My efforts pale in comparison to his.” Defeat filled his belly.

  Emma’s eyes closed as her head turned away. Obviously, she understood, and he saw his pain reflected in her eyes when they again faced him. Calmer steps led her back to Cortland’s side.

  “Is this the only copy of the paperwork?” she asked. The futility of the question showed in her stance.

  “My uncle has his, and copies have been sent to those in power,” Declan said. If only it could be so simple.

  Taking her hand, Cortland said, “Dinna doubt your value. My thanks for your efforts.” Keeping hold of her hand, he asked, “What do you want to do, Declan? We have only one moon remaining. Hope is nay yet lost.” He envied the support Emma gave to his first man. To deal with such matters and have a strong lass to cling to . . .

  Unable to hide his pain any longer, Declan let out a long weary sigh. “There is little choice. I will marry if only to keep my lands and child safe.” The words were correct even if he knew doing both seemed impossible.

  “Where should I send riders?” Cortland asked with no pleasure in his voice and a face filled with dread.

  Rising from his seat, he turned to walk to the window. The gardens in spring bloom brought him no pleasure, even if he could see Mary’s image from the day before running across the lawn. Her ghost’s laughter filled the quiet air. “Give me two days, and I will have that answer. There are messengers expected. After their news, we can send out offers.” He didn’t add the part about those offers being for a wife who would bring him no joy or peace.

  “Is there a chance your messenger will have a way out of this?” Emma asked.

  Turning to face her, Declan answered, “Truly, ‘tis none of your concern, but I ken Cortland shares all with you. As Glenn has spies within my household, I hold the same in his. My messenger should be able to tell me when and with what force my uncle plans to arrive here and what he plans to have happen.”

  Staring hard at Emma, he asked, “How far are you willing to go to keep Mary safe?”

  “As far as I need to,” she answered with zero hesitation.

  It was the reply he had hoped for. Offering her an honest smile, he said, “You have done fine with my lass, keeping with my wishes and honoring hers. You have my thanks.”

  He chuckled as she blinked in surprise, and he softened a touch when she smiled back at him with no falsehood. Cortland is indeed a fortunate man to have such an honest woman by his side. Catching Cortland’s eye, he said, “Both of you leave. I have much to do.” He knew he should bring his accounts up to date, but he also knew the task would be beyond his focus.

  “I will be on the fields if you have need of me. Bring your sword and release some of your anger. You will be better for it,” Cortland said while leading Emma to the door.

  He is probably right, as usual. With a non-committal grunt, he let them prepare to leave.

  Cortland chuckled as Emma stumbled back against him. Declan saw the man catch her in almost the same manner he had days before. Though Cortland’s hands showed none of the wandering his had, his hands tingled with the remembrance of her flesh in his hold.

  “I swear I never see the man lock the door, yet ‘tis always bolted,” Cortland said as he led his daughter from the chamber.

  Declan stared at his desk, and his mind filtered the clans who offered alliance through marriage and which one would suit his needs and those of his people. None of the daughters appealed to him, so it seemed the rational approach would win. I can nay picture my life spent with any of them. Is this my fate, to be tied to a woman who holds no tenderness for me? And I none for her? No matter which bride, the marriage contract will kill what little remains of my heart.

  The weight of his future pulled his soul down into despair. His uncle would be thwarted, but the price to be paid stole his ability to think. How can any man win and lose so much?

  Chapter 6

  “I will be only a shout away if you have any need of me.” Merrick lifted Emma’s hand and held it firmly in his grasp. Turning it gently in his hand, he placed a kiss to her palm.

  Feeling a blush color her cheeks, Emma said, “Um, I should go catch up with Mary.” It wasn’t the first time he had kissed her palm, and each time it caught her off guard. Merrick released her hand and, with a wink, strode off to the men who gathered on the far side of the village.

  “Does your da ken the way of it?” Aalish asked from behind her, causing her to jump in surprise.

  Facing the question, Emma replied, “There is no ‘way of it.’ I think he’s just being polite.”

  Aalish laughed and shook her head. “Merrick waved at me. That ‘tis polite. He kissed you.” Pulling Emma toward the cottage, she continued. “Fine, tell me naught. The man accompanies you daily, eats his meals at your side, and kisses your hand, but you have little to share with me.”

  Emma pulled Aalish close. “I’m not quite sure what to do about Merrick.”

  “You have a handsome man following you like a pup, and you dinna ken what to do?” Aalish’s question dripped with sarcasm.

  “Don’t be smart with me,” Emma quipped. “It’s complicated. Cortland, I mean Da, wants to trust him. Merrick is very sweet and, yes, easy on the eyes. But his father is the one Declan is trying to prevent from taking over these lands.�
�� Emma paused to think. “Maybe he’s just being nice to me to get on Cortland’s good side.”

  “You are a fool, Emma. If the man only wanted to be in your da’s favor, he would spend the day on the training fields attempting to best the other men. That he courts you in front of your father speaks of interest in you. But do I trust him given his father? I dinna ken. He is a fine pair of helpful hands in the village each day, and all speak well of him. Yet our fear grows each day Declan remains unwed.” Aalish nodded. “I agree, ‘tis complicated.”

  Only able to nod in agreement, Emma scooped Thomas out of Aalish’s arms and nuzzled his neck until he giggled. Her gaze drifted around the unusually quiet village. It surprised her that at the late hour of the morning, most who were normally working, stood about in small groups chattering. “Is something going on here today?” Emma asked.

  Aalish led Emma down one of the paths between the stone cottages. “Aye. There was a wedding last eve. Most of the village is still speaking of it as an excuse to avoid the tasks of the day.”

  Stopping before a cottage Emma had never visited, a sheet that reeked of cheap wine covered the door. “Maybe they should stop celebrating and wash that before the stain sets in too deep to clean.” Emma’s comment made Aalish laugh until tears filled her eyes.

  “You dinna remember our ways then,” Aalish said. Almost absently, she added, “Esmeralda was a young thing when she left, was she nay?” The use of the third person caught her notice, but Aalish added to her explanation.

  “A marriage on these lands is a verra simple matter. Words of claiming are spoken before witnesses, and in the morn, a sheet is hung to prove their bedding. Now, ‘tis wine that marks the sheet, nay the virgin’s blood custom demands.” Aalish pulled Emma several steps away from the cottage. She whispered, “For the couple, there was a father demanding the marriage take place. The lass was already showing with the bairn growing in her belly.”