by Reece Butler
She turned to James. “Do you remember?”
“Aye, but you willna be happy about it.”
Cormac winced. He dropped his head. “Oh. That.”
“Aye.”
“What?” She grabbed his ears and yanked his head up. “Why did my father flog you like that?”
There was pain in his eyes. Not from remembered physical pain. Whatever it was, he really didn’t want to tell her.
“Please, Cormac.”
“He whipped me as I told him ‘twas me what rode his new horse afore he could give it to yer brother Henry.”
Her father often gave her second brother presents. Rarely to John, the Master of Caithness, her sister, or herself. He would promise them a certain gift, she’d get her hopes up, then he’d give it to Henry.
“He did this because you rode a horse?”
“He’d gotten bad news. He couldn’t go rieving as it was light out, so when he was told about the horse being rode he wanted to hit someone. He chose me.”
“Did you do it?”
“Nay, but a certain wee lassie was not happy he’d promised her a white horse and gave it to her brother instead.”
The dread in her stomach now filled her body. She bit her trembling lip.
“The stable master saw me bring it back,” she whispered. “Long before Henry or my father would be up. He complimented me on riding bareback, something Henry couldn’t do.”
“Someone else saw ye ride,” said James.
“I never kenned ye were whipped for it,” she whispered. “After I broke my fast I was sent to my aunt’s at Keiss Castle to learn to be a lady. I thought that was father’s punishment for riding without a saddle.”
“The earl was furious his daughter rode well astride, yet his favorite son could not,” said James.
“I was in the stable when ye came back,” said Cormac. “Ye were beautiful with yer hair streaming behind like a ribband, laughing at playing a joke on Henry. So when yer father demanded who took his son’s horse out—” He looked down and shrugged. “I couldna let ye be whipped, or beaten again, dearling.”
Her lungs tightened. Tears prickled her eyes. “I am so sorry,” she whispered.
“Och, well, the lads thought me brave to take yer punishment.”
“They kenned who really took Henry’s horse?”
“Aye. Yer father had been heard sayin’ the next time ye acted up he’d break yer spirit, and that he’d break bones to do it if he must. I couldna let ye be harmed.”
Her father expected total loyalty and instant obedience. He would have seen her action as a form of treason, especially as few stood up to him. Showing Henry up had caused a man she loved, horrid pain and permanent scars. Shame made her voice tight.
“That’s why he chose to believe William so easily, and banished me.” She choked, her throat swollen from fighting tears. “I hope he’s in a good mood when we arrive,” she said, her voice quivering.
“Ah, lass, I’ll do it again if I must. I have more to live for now, thanks to ye.” Cormac pulled her into his arms. She leaned into his strength, curling up like a child.
“I’m glad John killed Henry,” she murmured. “He would have made a terrible laird. Worse even than Father.”
“Henry enjoyed his position as favorite son,” said James. He rubbed her back as she sniffled in Cormac’s arms. “He was not liked. After the whipping word went around that Cormac took it to save you. The stable master said how well you rode while Henry wouldn’t saddle his own horse. Henry had a dishonorable death and is no more. You must live for today, and for the babes you will carry.”
“Aye,” she said. She exhaled, letting it go. “I’ve treated you both badly, but that is no more. I will be a good wife to both of you. Today may be my wedding day, and I will smile.”
Cormac’s eyes gleamed. “I’ll expect ye to make up for yer wicked past by obeying me and doing yer wifely duty whenever I say.”
“If you give me more of those orgasms ‘twon’t be a duty, aye?”
Chapter Thirteen
They descended the hill and, avoiding the marshes, soon crossed into MacKenzie land. Cormac sat tall in spite of the itch between his shoulder blades. They were being watched from the high lands to the north and west. The MacKenzies had eyes aimed at them though their arrows wouldn’t be notched. Yet.
Riding through the day before, a small party coming from Fraser land and heading quickly north, they’d not been challenged. Today they headed straight toward the seat of their power, Castle Leod. It was set on a rise, five stark stories of light brown rock with darker corners, backing into a steep hill.
It wasn’t until they approached the River Peffery that four men rode to meet them. James had warned him to stay quiet until they knew how Kenneth MacKenzie, Lord of Kintail, would receive them. At the very least James would be invited inside to deliver his messages while he and Alana waited outside the walls. They hoped Colin would be there, or had passed on word of their friendship to his father. William had beaten Colin so badly he'd gone blind in one eye. He’d wish to help Alana just to keep her from William’s brutal fists.
“Did ye forget sommat yestereve when ye headed east?” demanded the leader. “Or did ye get what ye were goin’ for.” He nodded at Alana with respect. “I see ye lost yer wee scamp and gained a lady.”
“That wee scamp’ ye saw is this lady,” replied James. “And, if The MacKenzie will allow us the use of his priest she will wed my brother. Munro of Foulis has no man of the cloth, and sent us here.”
That brought chuckles. “He used to have one, but we’ve got better food. The priest accepted our laird’s offer of a full belly and a larger flock to tend,” replied one of the guards. “The laird wilna let him eat afore praying, so it keeps his sermons short." The other men joined in the laughter.
“A larger flock and mayhaps sheep with more interesting sins to confess, aye?” replied James with a knowing grin. Men such as this often prided themselves on wenching. It was well known MacKenzie did not tolerate abuse, so tavern women did a good business when the guard came to town.
“Ye have the right of it,” replied one of the others. The leader cleared his throat, tilting his head toward Alana, making the man flush. “Beg pardon, my lady.”
“Can ye tell me why the lady rides next to ye, and not the silent man she is to marry?” asked the leader, speaking to James while watching Cormac.
“The lady and my brother are a wee bit too eager for the bedding,” said James. “I’m keeping them apart until the ceremony.”
Cormac winked at Alana, making her blush. He now knew how far down it went, what color, and whether it matched the nipples he knew were tight nubs under her gown.
“So ye thought ye’d jist invite yerself to Castle Leod? And did ye think The MacKenzie will gie ye a feast to please his priest, as well?”
“I thought Colin Cam would like to see Lady Alana Sinclair,” said Cormac, no longer willing to be silent. “He n’er got the chance to thank her for saving his life while fostering with her father, the Earl of Caithness.”
That got their attention. The leader made a knife appear from his sleeve. He dug a splinter out of the heel of his palm. Cormac’s horse moved restlessly but he didn’t move his left hand from the reins, or his right from his thigh. Scratching his chin could be a ruse to reach for his sword. It would not be healthy as the visible knife was not the only one between the men.
“And who are ye that ye marry such a lady?”
“I am Cormac MacDougal from Duncladach. My brother James and I fostered with Colin at Castle Girnigoe in Caithness. A couple of MacDougal lasses married MacKenzie lairds over the years.”
“Aye? When?” The knife disappeared but not the frown.
“The last was Alexander, sixth Laird of Kintail.” The present laird was the tenth, but it was the closest link they had, other than Colin’s friendship. “The MacDougals dinna have many daughters, the last being a hundred years or so ago. I have fourteen brother
s, other than this one.” He tilted his head at James.
“I bring word to Laird MacKenzie, Lord of Kintail, from Fraser of Lovat, Cameron of Lochiel, Munro of Foulis, and MacDougal of Dunollie,” said James formally.
“Och, yer puir wee haid must be full o’ words,” said the leader. He nodded with respect. “There’s a priest, but ’tis up to Himself as to whether ye marry.”
“Then lead on, and we will follow.”
One of the men rode ahead, bringing the news to the castle. After leaving their horses a maid took Alana in while they were brought to a receiving room. Colin welcomed them, offering ale, bread, and cheese. He wore a black patch over the blind eye like a rakish pirate.
“I didna think Lady Alana would ever leave Lovat Castle,” said Colin. He toasted them with his mug. “Nor arrive here in yer company. What are ye doin’ so far from Duncladach? Did Somerled send ye away for stuffin’ yer face like a wee piggy?”
They’d been skin and bones when they arrived at Castle Girnigoe, having survived on little more than porridge, fish, and rabbit. It was better by the time Colin arrived, but they were still known for filling their trenchers more than once at each meal. Cormac grabbed the last piece of cheese, beating James by an instant.
“Lord Fraser hired us to deliver Alana to her father,” said James as Cormac chewed.
“Ye rode here from Munro land. That’s backward to Caithness.”
“We have need of the MacKenzie priest,” said James.
Colin’s father was not known for listening to what he called the prattle of women and manlings. They were worried he would do what the earl wanted, uncaring of Alana’s wishes. Colin hated William with a vengeance borne of his partial blindness. Would his father feel the same?
The door burst open with a crash. MacKenzie of Kintail was shorter and stockier than the MacDougals, with the build and coloring of a red Highland bull. And the temper. His years had given him gray hair but his eyes and strength had not dimmed. His right hand twitched as if wishing to grasp a blade.
“One of ye best be married to Lady Alana as she’s nay got her maid with her.” His eyebrows bristled as he switched his view from one to the other.
“We came here to beg use of yer priest,” said Cormac.
“Laird Fraser sent Lady Alana Sinclair with us, dressed as a stable lad to protect her,” explained James. “Cormac wishes to marry her as soon as possible. Laird Munro suggested yer priest may perform the ceremony.”
“Her father demands Alana marry and come home,” said Cormac blandly.
The MacKenzie crossed his bulky arms, fingers stuck under his armpits, and gave them a look that no doubt made most men quail. Cormac gave the same back in equal measure.
“What are ye nay tellin’ me, laddies?”
“Ye ken the Earl of Caithness is mad,” said Colin. “Both sons and the older daughter are dead because of him. He has one wee grandson as heir, and Alana. He doesna care who she weds as long as she gives him grandsons. The lady has always had a certain fondness for the MacDougals.”
“The earl wouldna call her home without a husband in mind,” replied MacKenzie.
“Aye, her cousin, William Sinclair of Braal.” Cormac snarled the words.
MacKenzie seemed to swell in size like a bullfrog. “The whoreson what blinded my son and heir?”
“Aye,” replied James. “He beat Alana near death, then told lies about her honor. Her father banished her to Laird Fraser. He needs her womb now, so demands she return.”
“How do ye ken they were lies?”
“She was a virgin when she left Lovat Castle,” answered Cormac.
“Was?” MacKenzie narrowed his eyes. “Ye anticipated yer weddin’, laddie?”
“Alana wished proof of MacDougal satisfaction so I— Ow!” Cormac shifted a few feet from his brother’s boot. “What did ye kick me for?”
“The lady agreed to a wedding,” said James mildly.
“To one, or both of ye?” MacKenzie snorted at the sudden silence. “Ye are MacDougals, so share a wife, aye? ‘Tis old I am, nay dead.”
“Alana handfasted with me in front of Laird Munro this morn, and wishes to marry Cormac,” said James. “That way if one of us is killed she will still be safe from William.”
“Only if ye put a babe in her belly afore ye see the earl.”
Cormac nodded his agreement. “Aye, ‘tis why we’ll ride slow. And stop often.”
“As ye did this morn on yon hilltop?”
A wave of heat flowed up Cormac’s chest to burn his ears. Laird MacKenzie’s bushy eyebrows came together in a gray V.
“Ye’re a damn fool if ye ride. Ye’ll soon be dead and yer lady stolen. Ye’ll be safe in my lands but how will ye get past the Murrays, Gunns, Morgans, and Mackays? The Sinclairs are nay welcome there, even if she be a MacDougal bride .”
“We have gold to hire a ship.”
“Ye need proof yer wee wife is carryin’ a babe afore ye land. Where will ye wait it out?” asked MacKenzie.
“Father, Cormac and James ken that Eastern fighting method I learned in Caithness. ’Tis difficult to teach without a sparring partner. Mayhaps they could help train our men? Unless ye’ve forgotten how to fight?” Colin’s eyes danced in challenge.
“Ye’ve put on a wee bit of muscle and height since we last tussled, laddie, but I’ll still pound ye into the dirt,” replied Cormac confidently.
“Aye, I’ve grown.” Colin nodded, showing his teeth. “And I ken a few things more. ‘Twill be yer arse in the dirt, laddie.”
“‘Twould give ye time to get a bairn in yer lady’s belly,” mused MacKenzie. “What if the earl doesna approve of ye and tosses ye in his pit?”
“I would die to keep Alana safe,” said Cormac with a snarl.
“If ye are both dead she wilna be safe,” said MacKenzie.
“Ah, but the lass has a way with her wee dirk,” replied James. “She’ll kill William afore he can harm her. Or turn it on herself.”
A knock at the door had Colin holding up his hand to stop the conversation. He opened the door with a broad smile. “Lady Alana! Welcome!”
“Colin MacKenzie!” Alana looked up at him with surprise. “The last time we met we were nose to nose.”
“I was a mere stripling back then. Ye’ve grown even more beautiful, my lady.” He tucked her hand in his arm and drew her over to introduce her. “Father, this is Lady Alana Sinclair, the wee lassie who told Cormac about William’s fear of snakes. She might have saved my life.” He kissed her cheek, making Cormac growl. “What can Clan MacKenzie do for ye, my lady?”
Alana dropped into a deep curtsey in front of the laird. “Would you have a priest, Laird MacKenzie? I wish to wed Cormac MacDougal without delay.”
“And why would he deserve to marry a grand, beautiful lady such as yerself?” asked the laird.
“I’m not grand, sir. I’m only a dowerless woman who may be barren.”
“Do ye want them, lass?” asked MacKenzie gently. “I will keep ye safe here. Sinclair has power, but I have the ear of King James. Sinclair canna tell me what I do on my lands. I would keep ye safe from that whoreson William of Braal.”
“Thank you, sir. I do wish to marry them.” Her blinding smile hit Cormac between the eyes. “I’ve loved them for years, though only in my dreams. We hope to take our time traveling, so when we get to Caithness my father will see I am with child.”
“Ye canna ride all that way, lass. Ye’ll lose a babe, and mayhaps yer lives.” MacKenzie ignored them, putting all his attention on Alana. “Would ye give this old man the pleasure of ye for a wee while? I have a new wife, one yer age. Silean would be glad of a lady's company.”
MacKenzie would allow Alana to stay here, unmarried, for the rest of her life to protect her from William. Cormac couldn’t force her to marry. He forced the words out.
“Laird Fraser gave enough coin for a ship, or to support ye for years, Alana. Do ye really wish to marry and return home? Yer father may kill us outrig
ht and marry ye off anyway. If ye wish to stay here, safe from—”
Her face fell. “Are you saying you dinna wish to marry me?”
Cormac took her hand. He looked her in the eyes. “I want to marry ye, Alana. But if ye wish yer freedom I willna hold ye back. If ye haven’t swelled with a bairn yer handfasting to James will be over in a year.”
She pulled her hand out of his, eyes flashing. “Cormac MacDougal, you are a fool if you think I wish to spend my days sewing tapestries and my nights soothing someone else’s children.” She placed her palm over his heart. “I want to marry you,” she whispered. “And I intend to be with child long before the year is up.”
He sagged in relief, then kissed her cheek. “Ye might already be,” he whispered back. She blushed, which made him stand tall.
“Ye heard the lass,” said Cormac to Laird MacKenzie. “We’ll accept yer hospitality for the summer while we show yer men how to fight.”
“And then we’ll deliver Alana to her father,” said James.
“And then we’ll kill William,” added Cormac.
Chapter Fourteen
“Out, ladies. Time for Lady Alana to meet her husband and greet his witness.”
Silean, Laird MacKenzie’s new wife, clapped her hands. Her tittering serving women bustled out the door of the bridal chamber. Silean was barely older than Alana. When she’d tried to instruct Alana for her wedding night the evening before the two of them ended up giggling. Silean had sighed, saying she wished for a bairn but her husband was old and his staff didn’t rise often. Alana had whispered what the new bride could do with her mouth to make him very happy. Silean’s initial shock had changed to eagerness, and she’d almost danced from the room.
Silean turned her back to the women. “Yer suggestion worked,” she whispered. She smiled broadly and patted her belly.
Her pleasure took some of the edge off Alana’s nervousness. Silean had made him rise, and he’d put his staff to good use. Alana had nothing to give to the laird to thank him for his hospitality. Even if Silean didn’t get a babe out of her suggestion she would please him on other occasions.
