The Draig's Choice

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The Draig's Choice Page 46

by Lisa Dawn Wadler


  What the heck is a confinement?

  Conall chuckled and raise her hand to his lips to place a lingering kiss to her palm. “Your ways are nay ours. Our women dinna hide when they are great with child.”

  “No woman hides, merely takes all proper precautions,” Jacqueline snipped.

  Scenes from movies and books flitted in her thoughts until Sarah placed the concept. “Are you referring to the barbaric practice of locking a woman in a room for over a month with no fresh air and no exercise?” She truly hoped that no one actually lived like that; it sounded like torture to her.

  “Of course,” Jacqueline purred. “You should be in a chamber. Such barbarism aided my giving birth to eight children.”

  Yeah, not going to happen. But damn she looks good for having so many kids.

  Pasting a smile on her face and holding Conall’s hand against her belly, Sarah retorted, “As Conall explained, it’s not our way.”

  The mumbled reply translated as heathens in her head.

  “After so many months apart, I would never seek to be separated from my wife. Sarah is ever by my side and in my bed.” The wicked grin Conall gave had her chuckling. While he may have implied, he told them exactly how their nights would be spent.

  Both women shuddered and Colette paled at the implications. For a second or two, Sarah felt sorry for the young woman who was merely a pawn. She’s too young for this. Maybe seventeen, Heaven forbid she’s younger. I doubt she knows more than the basic facts of life, likely told from the perspective of a woman who must tolerate a man’s needs. Then it faded as she knew she wouldn’t seek to offer better advice until the chaos stood in the past.

  Sarah turned away from the nasty conversation as a younger voice called her name. “Sarah, Sarah.” Bella rose from her side to trot to her regular morning visitors. As part of her informal adjustment therapy for Sasha and Megan, the girls took Bella out to play each morning. While the dog normally played with the others in the kennel, the task gave the girls a purpose while spending time with her and they relished the responsibility. Sasha had even spoken a few words in the safe haven of the dog.

  “Good morning. I wasn’t expecting you with all of the ice.” Sarah beamed at the girls who barely resembled the starved children who had arrived over two months ago. They had put on needed weight and grown an inch or two a piece. Smiles rather than fear brightened their faces.

  “The sun melts the ice, but Da made us wait. We are sorry to be so late.” Megan’s explanation flew out in a hurry. Then both girls gasped at Conall at her side. “Lord Conall.”

  “We talked about this, the title is Laird,” Peter softly corrected.

  “Laird Conall,” Megan gushed. “You are home.”

  “Aye,” Conall acknowledged as he attempted to place the two standing before him.

  Sarah helped him out with the name of the village they came from, their parents’ names and when they arrived. “Megan and Sasha help me with Bella and also help me carry baskets to the village when needed.” The girls had accompanied her on a journey with the traditional basket of food for the welcoming of a new life. They had also carried baskets for the grieving. While she hated to admit it, given her size, she needed the assistance.

  Conall gave a smile that lit his face with a light that stole her breath. “I am so pleased you are here.”

  Megan gushed gratitude that Conall ignored. Sasha stepped closer and stared at him, as if trying to remember if she knew him. Conall offered, “I had a beard when we met.” His hands covered his cheeks in a pantomime that registered immediately. Without warning, Sasha flung her arms around Conall’s neck.

  “Aye, sweet lass.” Conall crooned as the child plastered herself to him. “You are protected, for I am home to take care of you and your family.”

  When Jacqueline snorted, Sarah stared at the woman with disdain. The comments made disgusted her down to her toes. “How can he touch the child so? She is naught but a filthy peasant.” When Megan’s mouth fell open, Sarah stepped in. How can she be so rude and not hide behind her French?

  “These two girls and their parents were to sent to us by Conall, given that their village no longer existed. They are bright, charming, and delightful company. They will be treated with respect in our home.”

  The chided woman ignored the reprimand and went back to her meal. Colette studied the scene and Sarah caught the young woman’s expression that hinted at compassion. Stop it. You are not going to find anything to like about her.

  Sasha relinquished her hold and Conall set her back on her feet. Moist eyes stared up at him as if he were a hero of epic deeds. “Thank you,” the child whispered.

  Those are the first words she’s uttered to a human being. Tears filled her eyes with the revelation and Evan smiled at the child, equally proud of the moment.

  Megan grinned and then began bouncing at her feet. “We have come for a basket.” Given the enthusiasm, good news was sure to follow.

  “Who?” Sarah asked, leaning forward for the reveal.

  Megan turned to Sasha and the younger child stepped closer. The quiet whisper had tears rolling down her cheeks. She’s talking to me directly, not using Bella as a tool to communicate. “We have a brother.”

  Wiping tears with her fur-trimmed sleeve, Sarah laughed while she cried. “That is the best news ever, as in the best in the history of the world. I am so happy for you. How’s your mother?”

  Megan grinned. “She is sleeping, as is the babe. Can we fetch a basket? Are you coming?”

  Conall gave her the nod expected and she focused on the girls. “Ask the lasses for your basket. Tell them to add some of the treats baked for tonight’s feast.” The girls clapped and jumped for joy and ran to the kitchen with Bella at their heels, barking her enthusiasm.

  “How many have you taken in?” Robert asked, his presence forgotten during the

  interlude that brought Sarah more joy than she could comprehend.

  “Forty-seven since this fall. Make that forty-eight with the birth.” Sarah studied his gaze that measured and weighed what she had done.

  “I sent nearly double that number to my lands with the promise of a home to be found.” Conall frowned at the thought of missing souls.

  “Hopefully there will be more come spring,” Peter suggested.

  Conall nodded and Robert questioned him. “How did you ken Sarah and Peter would heed your directives?”

  Sarah caught Peter’s gaze that hinted at shared thoughts. Do you mean since we received no written orders, likely due to you cutting off all lines of communication?

  With a hand on Peter’s shoulder and one entwined with hers, Conall straightened. “The Draig have always welcomed those in need of a home. Such is a lesson taught through the generations. In all ways, I honor the commands of my ancestors.”

  “But you were nay here,” Robert challenged.

  “Peter kens our ways, as his home has been on Draig lands for decades. As my wife, Sarah kens the import of keeping to clan ways and decrees. Such was our marriage, such is our life.”

  “A Draig marriage,” Robert muttered. “Refresh my memory. Once your father told me of your dictates that differ greatly from others.”

  Evan answered without thought, much to her dismay. He explained the clan custom of vows and dirty laundry dating back to the first Draig centuries ago. He told the story with gusto and pride, not once thinking over the consequences of his tale.

  “Interesting,” Robert stated at the end. “I had forgotten.”

  Conall tensed at her side, while Colette and Jacqueline sat in mute horror.

  “We should head to the village,” Sarah suggested, forcing her throat to work. “The girls have zero patience.”

  “Aye, wife. Let us welcome the new life together.” Conall rose and helped her from her seat.

  To her amazement, Sarah kept up an even pace as she heard Jacqueline speak to her daughter in French. “We have much work to do to turn this heap of stones into a proper home for yo
u. Who knew there would be no marriage to set aside? Such nonsense. All know a priest is required to create the union.”

  Chapter 38

  Conall stared in wonder as his wife wrapped the newborn in the warm blankets. She is a sight to behold with a bairn in her arms. “You have a perfect son. Does he have a name yet?”

  Matilda nodded at her husband after taking the baby back in her arms. Stuart fiddled with his hands knotted before his stomach. “We would call him Conall, after you. Without you, I doubt any of us would have survived.”

  He felt his face widen and then wrinkle. “You brought your family here, nay me. I merely placed you on a hard road to travel. But you honor me. I am humbled.”

  Sarah nestled at his side and he inhaled her hair, seeking her to make sense of the praise he didn’t deserve. “Well, that’s a fine name.” She beamed. Leaving his side, she stood next to the bed. “How are you?”

  Matilda grimaced as she shifted. “Tired but relieved. He is strong and healthy.” The man’s hand gripped his wife’s. “Thank you for all you have done for us. We owe you his life.”

  “You owe me nothing. You made him, not me.” Sarah grinned.

  “How are you?” Matilda asked, her eyes on the bulge of a belly.

  “Huge and uncomfortable,” Sarah quipped.

  “It passes.” Matilda sighed. “Soon we can sit with our children and watch them grow.” Conall didn’t miss the worried glance she gave to Stuart. So, all the village kens of our troubles.

  “I look forward to that day.” Running a hand over her lower back, Sarah grumbled, “I really mean that.”

  Matilda chuckled and then Brenda entered the tidy bedroom. “All out. I need to speak with Matilda in peace.”

  The midwife strode over to Conall. “Welcome home, lad.”

  Bending to press a kiss to her cheek, he took Sarah’s hand and led her to the kitchen, where two baskets rested on the table. “Our stores will be empty if all feast as they do.” While true, Sarah had told him of the family’s arrival and the effort she made trying to reach a silent Sasha.

  “Those two have the women in the kitchens wrapped around their little fingers,” Sarah answered with a wide smile. “I may encourage it a bit.”

  “As you should.” Given the healthy children and the fit parents, his wife had been wise in her care, as he knew she would be.

  “Sarah, ‘tis ready if you wish for it.” Stuart entered the room with a small cloth covering an item in his hands. “I should have waited until we were alone, I apologize.”

  “Your timing is perfect.” She took the offering. “Thank you so much.”

  “I enjoyed resuming my craft for a time. My hands are at your disposal, and yours, Laird.” Stuart glanced back at the bedroom. “Forgive me, but I should tend my wife.”

  “See to your wife for the next few days,” Conall commanded. While he had no idea what service that man provided the clan, his first responsibility needed to be his family.

  “Thank you.” Stuart offered a slight bow. “If you see the girls, please tell them to come home when they are hungry.”

  “They’re exercising Bella in the near field. We’ll send them back before we leave,” Sarah said and then turned her blue eyes to his. None of the morning’s confrontations showed, only her exuberance for the task at hand, welcoming life.

  “I would say you have done well, but you are incredible.” His words felt shallow given the depths of her heart for their clan.

  Ignoring his praise, she held out the cloth. “Stuart once earned a living creating fine works of jewelry. I asked him to make this for you. While I don’t know when it is, I’m assuming you have a birthday. Or we could call it a late Christmas gift.”

  A delicate weight filled his palm as he stared at her. “I mark the day of my birth in November.” So much they had shared and there still remained so many little details of life to voice. “You?”

  “September.”

  “I owe you a gift,” he offered, disturbed that she had thought of gifting when he had not.

  “You came home. Best gift ever.” She pulled his head down and brushed her lips against his.

  “You were here waiting for me. I have no need of finery.”

  “Just open it. It was a thought that seemed right to me.” Sarah grinned as she bit her lower lip, her anticipation ripe.

  Unwrapping the cloth, Conall gasped at the silver in his hands. Sarah quickly explained, “Admittedly, I broke into the silver to have this made.”

  Conall stared at the silver brooch worked into a flat representation of the dragon pattern that covered his left arm and the dagger at her waist. “I have never beheld the like.” The craftsmanship spoke of years of practice, of a man destined to create such beauty. That his wife had heard of the skills and been inspired to create such a luxury, stole his breath.

  She lifted the silver to show the pin built into the backside. “When you wear your plaid, the wind can blow it off your shoulder. This will keep it in place.”

  He buried his fingers into her hair, releasing the tresses bound against his wishes. Holding her forehead to his, he breathed her in and wondered if any man had ever had a fortune as great as his; to be loved by a woman destined for him. “I dinna ken what to say. You have surprised me, touched my heart and I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

  “Does that mean you like it?” she teased after placing a kiss to his nose.

  “Aye, Sarah. I love the gift, the woman who had it created, and that it bears our dragon.”

  “I need to speak with you, Conall.” Brenda interrupted their solitude. “Sarah, go learn from Matilda as she suckles her son. I can instruct you all day long, but the lesson is better learned from sight.”

  He kissed Sarah’s lips; a soft press that he hoped expressed his love. “You shall find me waiting for you.” His wife stepped away and Brenda remained silent until voices could be heard from the bedroom.

  “The well rings with gossip bearing bad tidings. I want to ken the truth.” Brenda didn’t falter in her demands.

  “The Bruce has demanded I set Sarah aside and marry as he decrees for the sake of alliances and his benefit. I have denied him and will continue to do so. Sarah is my wife.” The words tore from his throat in a growl. Speaking them aloud made his hand ache for his weapon to take down the enemy that had once been a ruler he had worshiped.

  To her credit, Brenda nodded rather than voicing useless protests. “I advise the women who are soon to bear to keep calm, to rest with as much ease as possible. A woman who fashes over losing her husband and home. . .”

  Cutting her off, he said, “Sarah is mine, the bairns are mine, and naught will change that.”

  Brenda patted his cheek, which caught him off guard. “You speak with a passion that brings your Da to mind. Make certain Sarah kens that. Her nights have enough to fash over.”

  His heart skipped a beat. “Of what do you speak?”

  With a harsh chuckle, she told him. “All women fear childbed. ‘Tis a place of miracles and danger mixed together. While the Draig rarely loses a mother or child, such has happened. Your wife is about to bear two bairns.” Brenda sighed and then began pacing. “Many years have passed since I aided with such a birth. That such is constant in her lineage bodes well. She has carried longer than I thought she would, which eases some of my concerns.”

  Grabbing her shoulders, Conall forced the woman to hold still. “How great is the danger?”

  “I dinna ken. She is strong and determined, which will aid the birth. I dinna like that she will fear for her home. Such fears affect all. Erase them.” Brenda’s command had him feeling like a helpless leaf blowing in the breeze, adrift with no method to guide.

  Airing the thought that had danced in his head during the morning meal, he snarled, “My instinct is to throw all from my gates.”

  “While that would aid much, have you considered the risks given the dozens camped past the fields?” Brenda’s question had Conall momentarily par
alyzed with dread.

  “What?”

  Brenda sucked in a harsh breath before delivering her news. “On my way back from tending one of the herdsmen, I counted roughly six dozen men carrying the Bruce’s banner making camp on the edge of Draig lands. I would swear they are newly arrived.” Brenda detailed the area tucked within dense growth off one of the side trails. “Only luck kept me from walking through them.”

  His hands clenched at his sides at the mere thought of so many hidden from his sight. The only reason for the men to camp in the woods would be if their arrival was never meant to reach his ears.

  How dare he? I can nay believe that Robert would abuse my trust with such maneuvers. He has more men than I do and I doubt ‘tis by accident. “I had no knowledge of such. My thanks for informing me.” Conall’s mind raced with implications and the new threat facing his wife. Between the two dozen men that arrived with them and another six dozen in the fields, Conall felt the balance shift as he became outnumbered on his own lands. Could I win a battle against the Bruce’s forces that outnumber mine? Did Robert actually think he would control my life by force?

  “Speak of this to no one, do you hear me?” Conall’s rough voice whispered the command. “Yet tell all to stay away from the area. Create a reason that does nay cause panic.” His mind, consumed with fear, couldn’t come up with a valid reason.

  “Aye, Laird.” The quick agreement mixed with the rare use of his title reassured him of her obedience.

  Years of cunning and conquest roared into his mind. He had been outnumbered before and had been victorious. Stealth would be his guide and trickery his right hand. He had defeated too many to surrender Sarah, the woman who stood as the best part of his life.

  Sarah emerged from the bedroom and Brenda ran her hands over the swollen belly. “Aye, they are fine. Such movements are to be expected.” Brenda asked a variety of questions regarding her well-being and then smiled. “Soon you will have need of me and I will stand at the ready. Be wise and rest when you can.”

 

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