The Draig's Wife

by Lisa Dawn Wadler

  “Do you want the rest?” Emma asked, leaning into his embrace.

  It was the hesitancy in her question that gave him pause. He knew whatever came next would be the heart of the matter. “Aye, Emma,” he encouraged.

  “So, I went for a walk with Merrick. It was a beautiful night, and the sea crashing below the cliffs was just breathtaking.” Then she let it all out.

  “We sat by the cliffs for quite a while. Merrick told me all about his home, the better parts of his childhood, and his incessant need to best Declan whenever possible. He made it sound like a childhood game that continued.” She glanced up at him. “He talked about how much he loves to come here to be with you, how much he learns from you. And whatever you may question about Merrick, his love for Mary is clearly real. He asked so many simple questions. ‘What does she love to do most?’ ‘What does she love to eat?’”

  Nodding, he answered, “I have never doubted his affection for the child.”

  “He kissed me,” Emma blurted out in a rush of air. Then she proceeded to give detail to how many times.

  This is the hard part of parenting, Cortland thought. No man should have to listen to his daughter speak of a man stealing kisses beneath the light of the moon, even if that daughter is not of his blood. Trying to follow her tale of Merrick’s words, he asked, “What do you mean Merrick spoke of lands he hoped to have? Given that his birthright was taken away from him and he is now seen as a bastard son, no property would go to him. It will all fall to his much younger half-brother, the legal heir.”

  “I know that. But Merrick told me he expected to gain lands from his father. I think he told me in order to encourage the kissing part. Like it meant something.” Emma’s cheeks flared red.

  “It did mean something. He told you to let you know he could provide a home for you.” Cortland processed the details. “Merrick expects the small lands his father currently holds when he occupies Draig lands. The heir will nay want the small holdings either.”

  “Merrick never said that directly, but it was implied,” Emma confirmed.

  Holding her gaze, he said, “You do right by telling me this.”

  Emma’s sigh filled the quiet morning. “I wasn’t sure what to do with that or if I would violate some type of trust. But then Merrick really pissed me off, so all bets are off.”

  “Tell me, or I will assume I need to hurt the man,” Cortland snapped and felt Emma stiffen under his arm.

  “You really do care,” she said, as she again snuggled against him and laughed. Her short burst ended quickly. “We had some conflicting ideas of how the evening was supposed to end.”

  Emma’s face practically glowed from embarrassment as she spoke of the kisses becoming more heated and Merrick’s attempt to steal more than a kiss. Cortland inhaled sharply when she told of his repeated attempts to lift her skirts. He needed no mirror to know his features burned with rage.

  Cortland held up a shaky hand to stop her tale. “While I am nay your true father, there are many things I have no wish to hear.” Roaming hands were something no father wished to hear spoken.

  With panic in her voice, Emma spoke rapidly. “I stopped it, Cortland. Believe me when I say I know better than that. It was what he said that made me so angry.”

  “What did the man say?” Cortland snarled with short clipped tones. In his mind’s eye, he could see a bleeding Merrick felled on the training grounds before him.

  “As I pushed him away and turned to leave, Merrick grabbed me from behind and wrapped his arms around my waist. Then he whispered in my ear, ‘So, what I heard is true. I have coin.’ Can you believe that?” Emma asked, looking expectantly at him. “I wanted to break his arms for grabbing me but thought that would only cause trouble. So, I settled for slapping him really hard. Is that okay?”

  Stunned was Cortland’s only thought. He had asked for the tale and received every last detail—far more detail than any father would ever want to know. Some conversations were never meant to be spoken between father and daughter. While no father wanted to hear of heated kisses, few needed the details of how it had failed to spark his daughter’s desire for more. Emma had shared every nuance of the evening.

  Finally answering her question, he said, “You did well to hold your temper. Your strength is a weapon best kept secret to keep you and Mary safe. Though now I will find Merrick.” He rose only to have Emma grab his arm and pull him back down to the ground.

  “Please don’t. I put myself in a bad situation, and I pulled myself out of it.” With her gaze on her lap, she added, “I’m sorry to have disappointed you.”

  “How did you disappoint me?” He didn’t care for the self-recrimination in her voice.

  “I shouldn’t have been alone with him,” Emma answered, her voice soft with what he deemed to be guilt.

  “Emma, hear me. While I dinna wish to hear of you walking alone with many, you are a grown woman. I dinna expect you to live like a nun. Merrick had asked my permission to ask you to walk, as is supposed to be honorable, though his conduct leaves much room for improvement. Besides for a comment most likely spoken to save his pride, he let it be known there was an offer in the making. His speaking of lands brought some decency to his actions—though barely. A man only speaks of lands when he wishes the lass to think of the future, meaning a marriage.” Cortland hoped he believed his own words. He had tried to find trust for Merrick and to judge him solely on his actions. But the man’s actions had crossed a line with his daughter, despite his soothing words.

  He added, “Though I would prefer to hear of you walking with William.”

  “We both know William and I aren’t going walking or anything else,” Emma replied. With more color on her cheeks, she asked, “I don’t understand. Aren’t you upset with me?”

  “I am upset with Merrick for behaving poorly with you.” He said, pondering the lass at his side. He knew she had led a sheltered life, but wondered how sheltered. “I ken your grandparents were strict with you. Would they have allowed you to walk alone with Merrick?”

  Her voice was soft as she answered. “I haven’t ever really been in a situation to be invited. My curfew was always really early, and I never got asked out for walks or anything else. No one wanted to be home that early.” A small grin touched her lips as she pointed to her small bosom. “Most boys do tend to prefer bigger boobs.”

  Cortland chuckled at the jest after placing a kiss to her head. “You have no trouble voicing your desires. Did your grandparents deny your requests for more freedom?”

  “I never asked. They set the rules, and I obeyed. They saved my life, and I have always known that. All they wanted was to know I was safe. There was nothing to argue. Besides, I enjoyed being with them. After high school, I could have stayed out later, but didn’t. Then Grandpa died, and Grandma needed me.”

  Her face was a mixture of sweet memories and grief from her loss. “Forgive me for being the fool. If I had thought for a moment you could nay handle the situation, I would have prevented it.”

  “Did you miss that part where I slapped the crap out of him?” Emma’s light laughter filled the air. Her gaze left his and settled again on the distant tree line. “Besides, like I was going to start acting badly with Merrick against the side of the keep.”

  She could pretend to study the horizon all day long, but he caught her sideways glance and the blush that covered her face. “Did you say what I think you did? Did I send an innocent lass out to walk alone with the man?” Her slight nod confirmed he was a horrible father.

  “Let there be no misunderstanding, from now on I shall treat you as I should have from the start. Any man who wishes to court you, may do so with me at your side,” Cortland stated firmly.

  Emma took his hand in hers, and a light chuckle left her lips. “Now you sound just like Grandpa.” She placed a light kiss to his cheek
that filled his heart. “I only wanted you to know that I wouldn’t do anything to embarrass you. Even if I do go for a walk, I know enough to come home.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The feel of soft lips grazing his neck brought Declan slowly back from sleep. Dimly aware of the dawn, he fought reality and clung to the image in his dream as he grabbed a handful of the woman’s hair. Bringing the mouth up to crush against his lips, his free hand wandered the supple form he had explored throughout the long night. His mind remembered sweet scented hair, though the tangles floating around his head had no fragrance. No sharp wit had filled the quiet moments of the dark night. Flipping the woman onto her back and roughly joining their bodies, Declan kept his eyes closed and pictured heated pale blue eyes.

  His body moved in a punishing rhythm, though who he punished was open for debate; the woman who met his physical needs with sounds of delight was not who he wanted beneath him. That he wanted the other was unforgiveable and forbidden. Still, with his eyes closed, none could berate him for seeing whom he wished. While work-roughened hands pulled at his back, he thought on soft ones cupping his face.

  The woman who delivered tales from Glenn’s household moved her hips up to meet his hard thrusts, taking pleasure in his abandon. That she carried the news of his downfall meant little; he already knew of the plot and now had the details. That she had stayed to warm his bed was simply a payment of sorts, one to go with her bag of silver. That he had taken her with thoughts of another was none of her concern.

  She had delivered the news he had anticipated. Glenn would arrive on the day marking his birth with a man from the crown who would be empowered to enforce the edict. To ensure Declan would find no bride, Glenn had begun marriage negotiations with several clans to secure a bride for his ten-year-old heir. Declan heard all the clan names he had visited with the exception of one; old Malcolm had been missed. Now he knew where he would send his offer of marriage.

  Leaving the worries behind, Declan shifted deeper inside the woman and ground hard until he felt her pleasure build and then only sought his release after her cries had ceased. Careful to spill his seed outside her body, he savored the momentary bliss, a sensation that always faded far too quickly.

  Opening his eyes, he offered no smile for the woman beneath him, not that she expected one. She had been cast aside by Glenn and had brought secrets to trade for coin and a night of bed-sport. The woman was attractive in her own way but did nothing to stir him in the growing light of the day.

  Placing a quick kiss to her forehead, Declan rose from the bed and crossed the small guest chamber to the pitcher of water. After a quick wash, he pulled on his trews and turned back to the woman. “I must ride for home. My thanks for taking the risks to share your news with me.” To emphasize his point, he dropped a bag with coin on the small table.

  Her high-pitched voice answered him. “‘Tis early yet. Come back to bed.” The woman shifted to her side and grinned at him with a knowing smile while baring herself to him.

  With a half-smile for the offer, he shook his head and went back to lacing his boots. Her lush curves held no appeal in the light of day. Standing to pull on his shirt, he stepped back when her hands tried to stop the garment from landing around his waist. He had to give her credit—she moved quickly.

  “Surely you have time to spare for me,” she whispered while her hands skimmed the top of his trews.

  Grabbing her hands and setting them by her side, Declan said, “I have many a task waiting for me. Send word if you have more to share.” That she again protested struck him as odd. It was not the first time they had shared a night, and the lass knew when he was done, he was done. His desire to be gone became an overpowering urge.

  With a final kiss for her pouting mouth, Declan left the dingy room and called for his men. It was far past time for him to be home on his lands.

  ~ ~ ~

  The hug confirmed all was right between Emma and Aalish. The argument had changed to who was more wrong, Aalish for warning and teasing Emma or Emma for letting it bother her so much. Both were right and wrong, and laughter ended the quarrel.

  “Still, Emma. There was no need to go to such extremes to prove me wrong,” Aalish giggled, nudging her with an elbow.

  Scooping up a cranky Thomas, Emma asked, “What do you mean?”

  “Remember ‘tis a small village when there is something to tell. I heard all of you and Merrick last eve,” she replied with a grin.

  “What did you hear?” Emma knew instinctively she didn’t want the answer.

  “Only what was spoken. The man tells of a fine night in your arms.”

  Emma knew all the work done to give herself a decent reputation had died with the lies that spread like wildfire. How could something travel so quickly? It’s not like it’s posted on Facebook or something. Rage churned in her gut, and she knew her reaction the night before had been too minor. I should have gone with my instincts and broken his arms.

  She gave Aalish the actual tale, complete with more details than she had given Cortland, including how his kisses and wandering hands were pleasant but not nearly enough to make her set aside her morals. “For someone who had such a great night, you would think he might be with me today.” She hadn’t seen Merrick all morning.

  “I noticed William walked with you. What are you going to do about Merrick?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. I’m going to kill him or maybe let Cortland do it. I can’t decide.” She waited for laughter but only saw horror on Aalish’s face. “I wouldn’t really kill him, and I don’t think my da would either.” But she wasn’t ready to bet on that one given Cortland’s remarks.

  To make the morning more annoying, someone was ringing the bell she had seen next to the well. The sound rattled her bones. As the color drained from Aalish’s face, Emma asked, “What’s wrong?”

  A threadbare whisper came from Aalish. “Raiders. The village is under attack.”

  Emma scanned the village for the girls but couldn’t find them in their usual spots. The previously clean air turned to smoke, and screams filled the quiet morning. She thrust Thomas back at his mother and grabbed the long stick used to stir the laundry. While not exactly a bo staff, it was the only weapon at her disposal.

  “Lock yourself in the cottage while I find the girls,” Emma demanded, pushing the woman toward the door.

  “You will only get yourself killed,” Aalish said, pulling on Emma’s sleeve. “The girls have been taught to hide.”

  Pulling her arm free, Emma ordered, “Go, now.” With the long stick tucked under her arm, she ran toward the screams, ignoring Aalish’s pleas for her to stay, all too aware that most of the men were in the fields planting. The warriors were training on the far side of the keep, a good mile away. Cortland had taken several with him to check on the herdsmen, and Declan had three with him. Cold fear crept down her spine at the thought of Mary alone.

  Though Emma didn’t know where William was, the two of them were the only ones in the village with training, though they would have the strength of the craftsmen. Emma came around the corner of a cottage and slowed when she saw men pour from the trees in the distance; at least fifteen men and more followed. Thankfully, they still had ground to cover to reach the village. She prayed she could find Mary and Brina before all hell broke loose. She was silently thankful that someone had seen them approach and had the good sense to ring the warning bell.

  A flaming arrow shot overhead and landed on a thatched roof behind her. As more roofs caught fire, more villagers ran from their homes. Chaos reigned supreme. Emma hoped Aalish was correct and the girls were hidden somewhere. Help was over five minutes away. To Emma, it was an eternity.

  Chapter 8

  Declan had taken the longer trail back to his lands to allow himself the luxury of quiet contemplation. That he preferred the view from the high path was the
second reason. Perched on the hilltop, he had a bird’s eye view of the village and keep in the distance. On such a clear day, the blue of the sea glimmered in the background.

  The sight that greeted him was far from pleasing. With a raised hand, the warriors in his company held their place, awaiting the command. Cursing his want for quiet time, Declan forced the guilt from his mind. His emotions would only hinder his actions. Cortland’s training rang in his thoughts; assess first and then engage the enemy.

  In the village, multiple rooftops burned, and smoke filled the air. His warriors were engaged in battle, and more were streaming into the village from the direction of the keep. Villagers ran from the raiders as more of the bloodthirsty men poured from the trees. Given the number of attackers, it would be no quick fight.

  He scanned the scene for where aid was needed most, as that would be his destination. Fear trickled down his spine when he saw where his stallion would head. Two men sliced the tall grasses with their swords, flushing out children from their hiding spots. A third man approached with his weapon gleaming in the sunlight ready to strike down the wee ones.

  His finger pointed, and the men in his company raised their weapons and spurred their horses into motion. As his gaze fell on the children running straight into danger, he bent lower over the saddle and demanded all from his beast. His heart skipped a beat when Mary was dragged out into the open.

  ~ ~ ~

  Emma rose on shaky legs after she pushed the dead man off. She had been lucky to be able to grab the dagger tied at his waist when he tackled her to the ground. Pain shot through her left leg, and she knew the man’s sword had done more than rip her dress. Her thigh bled but not heavily. Using the bloodied dagger, she cut a strip from her gown and tied it over the wound. She had only been unable to avoid the tackle because her legs had no room to move in the long skirts. Tearing at the fabric, the long dress became knee-length, and the slit from the previous attack gave her the range of motion she would need to run and fight.