Betrothed to the Beast

by Elina Emerald

  “Beiste?”

  “Aye love.”

  “Why were you looking for my brooch today?”

  “No reason, I just remembered I saw it at the cottage.”

  There was more silence between them before he had a notion.

  “Amie are there any other secrets you have hidden in this oak box of yours?”

  “Oh no, well um not in the box at least…”

  “He frowned, what do you mean? Spit it out.”

  “All right, there is something else you should know.”

  “Tell me…” Beiste said with a warning tone and braced for whatever chaos his little termagant was about to reign on his head.

  “Beiste, do you know a person called DW York?”

  “Aye that’s Deidre. Why?”

  “I think Wallace Duncan and Deidre have been stealing money from the estate.”

  “What?” He sat up straight. “How do you know?”

  Amelia took a deep breath. “I read the ledgers in your study and each time DW York appears the numbers do not add up, I asked Wallace a few questions about supplies and each time he gives me vague answers.”

  There was dead silence. He lifted her off his lap and stood. He just looked at her and one of two things came to him. First his clever wee wife could read and do sums and second she had been snooping around his study. She looked at him with a guilty expression and biting her bottom lip.

  He just gave an exasperated sigh, “Show me.”

  Amelia nodded, grabbed his hand and started pulling him out the door towards the study.

  ***

  “Those conniving pricks!” Beiste scowled, “they’ve been draining the estate slowly accounting for services and supplies that don’t exist.” He paced the room, “Damn it to hell! They were counting on me never finding out because Ma was too ill to keep up the books, and Wallace thought you could not read.” Beiste walked over to Amelia while she was pondering what he was saying, picked her up and kissed her soundly. When he put her down he said, “Thank God I have a clever wife.” Amelia blushed with the compliment. He added, “Even if she is a snoop.”

  “I did not snoop.” She said indignantly, “I was uh dusting one day, and they fell open in front of me.” Beiste just burst out laughing.

  The following day a very surprised Wallace Duncan was called to the Council room. He assumed he was there to give advice on household purchases. He was wrong. By the end of the meeting he was stripped of his position and belongings and escorted from MacGregor lands with only the clothes on his back. Beiste took great pleasure in informing him it was his learned wife who detected the discrepancies in his accounting and if he ever set foot on MacGregor land, he would not leave it alive.

  Two days later Deidre Wilma York was startled to receive a visitor from the MacGregor estate, she had two alternatives either return all monies owed from her thievery or spend an indefinite stay in the MacGregor Dungeons.

  ***

  Latin

  Some days later Amelia attended her second Council meeting just in case there was something she could contribute. All the usual members were in attendance and the first order of business she noted was much more exciting than a cow or bull. It was a missive from King Macbeth, however it was written in Latin. Hendry the Abbott spoke fluent Latin and would normally translate however as he was away it fell to Leon Snipes to translate as he used to be a cleric.

  Amelia sat next to Beiste and took a sideways glance at the parchment skimming the contents. Her eyes widened in surprise at the contents. This new King was very progressive.

  Although Beiste knew she could read Gaelic and English, it had never occurred to her to mention she could also read Latin. She decided there was no need to tell him now as they already had Leon set to interpret it.

  Beiste handed the missive to Leon, who looked over it thoughtfully and made a big show about it, so Amelia thought. She silently sat next to Beiste waiting for the translation.

  Leon stood, paused for a while then spoke: “It says by order of the King the MacGregors are to pay a small tithe to the church for pilgrimage to the holy land as is a divine mandate of Christian teachings and Celtic traditions. They must also set up an investment sum for the general upkeep of those in need within the Shire these monies are to be managed by the Village Council in each division.” He paused and scrunched up his face, cleared his throat then continued, “There is also a discussion of the King affirming male inheritance laws of which he will discuss with Chieftains once these laws are enacted.”

  Beiste looked at Leon and thanked him for his translation, then turned to discuss the missive content further with the Council. Amelia was hoping Leon had other business to attend to so she could speak to the Council, but she needed to urgently speak to Beiste privately.

  “My dear Chieftain, may I speak with you privately for a moment.” Amelia asked Beiste.

  “Amie love, not now.”

  “But husband I must speak with you tis very urgent.”

  “Amie, we do not have the time for this, there is much to ponder about this missive.”

  “Beiste, please, I need a private word with you.” Her voice was more forceful.

  “Amelia love if it is about a current matter you have equal say here so tell us now if not it can wait.”

  “Very well,” she looked about the room with all eyes on her and spoke in a loud voice, “What Leon just read out to you is not what is written on that missive. I would have told you privately Beiste to save any awkwardness but seeing as you’re a stubborn ox I will leave you with it.”

  Leon’s face went stark white and the entire room went stone silent. A look of confusion. Everyone looked from Amelia to Beiste and then to Leon, then they all scowled.

  Leon spluttered, “Are you accusing me of lying?”

  “I am and I suspect you’ve been lying to the MacGregors for some time with your false translations.” Amelia swiftly stood and was already halfway to the door before Beiste could stop her. “And if I were you Leon Snipes, I’d re-read that missive in its entirety before my husband separates your head from your body.”

  “This is outrageous, you can’t even read, you are a liar!” Spluttered Leon his eyes shifting nervously.

  Beiste slammed his fist on the table, “Be very careful what you call my wife.’

  Amelia had pulled the door open by this stage and turned back to address the room. “Actually, Leon Snipes, I can read English, Gaels and Latin better than you, it seems. If you’ll all excuse me I have a very important herb garden to attend to.” With that she slammed the door shut, walked out muttering about stupid Council meetings.

  The Council room erupted into mayhem after she left.

  “Dalziel please retrieve my wife so she can explain, I know it won’t be easy because she has worked herself up into snit.”

  “Leon sit down and explain yourself.” Brodie was already standing next to him holding his sword in hand and Leon started trembling.

  The other men just looked dumbfounded, as if they did not know what to make of this meeting. “The mistress kens three languages? Well, I’ll be, she is smarter than the lot of us.” Eoin Murray said.

  “Aye clever and bonnie too.” Marcus Baird added.

  “But isn’t that sacrilegious for a woman to ken Latin?” Gordon Buchanan said.

  “What’ll you have me do? Make her unlearn her ability?” Beiste replied.

  “But it undermines the rule of men if women ken more.” Gordon said.

  Beiste put an end to the discussion, “It also undermines the rule of men if some men,”–he looked at Leon, “mean to deceive other men who cannot read the language. I trust my wife has our clan interests at heart.”

  With that, the Council sat silent.

  By the time Amelia returned, Leon was ready to re-read the translation, and he did so in its entirety with Amelia listening in. The missive stated that tithe funds be set aside for religious pilgrimage and to support widows and orphans as is Christian duty. These
funds are to be managed by the Chieftain and the Abbott, not the Village Council as Leon had stated earlier. The King was also moving towards recognizing equal inheritance rights for women and all clans were to discuss the matter as it applied to their own clan members. Leon had left that out completely.

  When asked why he lied, Leon stated he had not lied intentionally he had just paraphrased incorrectly. Amelia was not so trusting of his explanation but the Council seemed to accept it so she let it go. Beiste just gazed at his wife, totally enamoured with her ability to surprise him.

  Later in their bed, Beiste kissed her gently. “Tis proud beyond measure I am that you can read Latin. Your skill has already helped our clan. I finally have a translator I can trust.” He said.

  “What of Leon?” Amelia asked.

  Beiste just shrugged. For now, he will keep, he is related to the Buchanans and some Village Council they might get annoyed if you accuse any of their kin.

  Beiste kissed her again, “I hope you can teach me Latin someday.”

  “I would love to husband when you have the time to learn a new tongue.”

  “Mayhap we can start now. I enjoy learning fresh things where your tongue is involved.” A glint came to his eye, “Say something lusty to me in Latin, I want to observe how your tongue moves.” Beiste leaned over and slipped his tongue into her mouth.

  Amelia slapped him and burst out laughing, “Get on with you, you randy beast!”

  Beiste chuckled and pulled down the top of her chemise, exposing her breasts. He suckled the hard peaks until she was moaning and writhing beneath him. Then he flipped her onto her belly, pulled her hips up so she was on all fours. He knelt behind her, pushed his plaid to the side, sought her wet heat and thrust to the hilt. Amelia collapsed onto her elbows, moaning as they engaged in a rhythmic dance as old as time. Beiste leaned down to kiss his wife as she turned her head, seeking his lips. Soon they were engaged in a tangle of tongues that had nothing to do with learning Latin.

  Chapter 19

  Kin

  Life back at the Keep settled into a peaceful lull with the cooler weather the clan was busy harvesting and hunting game for the winter months. Wallace Duncan’s departure meant the Keep functioned efficiently, giving Amelia more time to dedicate to what she loved the most, her herbs and healing. She now split her days evenly between her healer’s cottage and managing the domestic needs of running a Keep. Amelia had also recruited Sorcha to help her maintain records and accounts. She was finding Sorcha a quick study in her lessons. Sorcha’s minds was a sponge, absorbing everything with veracity. Beiste had told Amelia in the past he had hired tutors for her, they would stay for a sennight then report that she was slow and unteachable. Amelia knew the opposite to be true, Sorcha was not slow at all. It was the tutors who lacked the ability to educate.

  It was a cool Autumn day, and Sorcha and Amelia were in the library. Amelia had gone to move some books from a table when a letter fell out. She picked it up to put it back inside when she froze. The broken wax seal of the missive bore the same symbolic markings of her brooch. She instantly opened the letter and had to sit down, for her knees trembled. The date of the letter suggested Beiste had had the missive for at least two weeks and never not once mentioned anything to her. The content had the blood rushing from her face. Her grandfather was coming to claim her. Her heart soared with joy and then nervousness and then anger. Why had Beiste kept this from her? She knew they had been busy, but why would he not tell her something of this much importance? And if they were coming, she would need to prepare the Keep, make sure they were received well, that she was dressed well. Suddenly she was frantic and panicked. There was much to do.

  She had just gone in search of Beiste when the bells tolled, noting people were approaching. She and Sorcha went to the window and there coming up the rise were dozens of horsemen. It amazed Amelia. They wore the same bright colours of her mother’s airisaidh. Her eyes settled on the gigantic man in the lead, he had overlong grey hair tied in braids and carried a battle axe behind him; he was flanked by three men, one she recognized immediately as the potter from the village. Although now he did not look like a potter, he wore the rich plaid and bore the bearings of a Laird.

  Sorcha tapped her arm, pointed to the men, then furrowed her brow in a question.

  “Oh sister, they are my kin.” Amelia told her. Sorcha looked surprised.

  “Come, we must make ourselves presentable, let’s go get ma.”

  ***

  Beiste, Brodie and Dalziel stood on the ramparts. They had received word two days ago from their scouts that the Maclean contingent were close to the Keep. Dalziel, ever the strategist already had several men in place along the route, ensuring if the Macleans proved to be hostile, they would be turned away before they ever set foot at the Keep. Family or not, Beiste would not risk his wife being taken against her will. He did not want to give his wife any warning, for he knew if he told her in advance she would fret and then work herself into exhaustion. The Keep staff were already prepared for this day he wanted nothing to give her undue stress.

  “I best go find my wife so she can meet her kin.” Beiste said in a deadpan voice.

  When Beiste found Amelia she looked radiant all done up with Orla’s help. But when she saw him he braced for she came storming over and berated him for his lack of sensitivity,

  “How dare you not tell me my granddad was comin.g Why did you hide the letter from me? What if they don’t like me.” She shouted then punched him in the stomach which only ended up hurting her hand “Ouch.” She winced. “Why are you so muscly you behemoth.” Her voice was rising her face was turning red then she burst into tears.

  Beiste immediately pulled her to him, “Hush love, tis going to be all right, I have it under control.”

  She sniffed. “I wish I had more time to prepare. Do you think they will like me?” She raised her eyes, genuinely asking the question.

  “If they dislike you, I will kill them.” Amelia saw the look in her husband’s eyes and realized he was serious. That just made her giggle.

  Beiste took her face into his hands and spoke softly, “I will meet them first and when it is safe then I will call you all right?”

  “Aye husband, lead the way.”

  ***

  The man walked in the shadows once more, following the frenzied movement of bodies all around. The Keep was in a flurry of activity and once again he blended in, hidden in plain sight amidst the busyness. He made two observations, first the new mistress had powerful kin, the Maclean’s in fact and second, the Beiste was in love with his wife. He chuckled to himself. That would make what he was about to even more enjoyable, for he would unleash the most amount of pain.

  ***

  Beiste waited from Dalziel and Brodie to join him, then they walked out to the steps to greet the Macleans.

  “Welcome. I am Beiste MacGregor how can I help you?”

  “Greetings Chieftain MacGregor, I am Gilleain na Tuaighe, Chieftain of the Macleans of Mull. These are my sons Gillebride, Bristi and Malise. We seek an audience with me granddaughter Amelia MacGregor. Her ma was my daughter Iona I ask that you let us see her.”

  Beiste acknowledged them and answered, “Tis my wife who will decide if she will see you or not.”

  Gilleain would normally be outraged, but he understood the MacGregor was making it known that in matters of kin he would defer to his wife. It was a rare move for a powerful Chieftain to make but a wise one. He stated that his wife held equal footing here, and it was they who would need to meet with her approval if they wanted an audience. Gilleain tried hard to hide his smile. He was pleased with the honor given his granddaughter, her husband was publicly acknowledging her authority as his wife and by association respected her as a Maclean. He knew then Beiste MacGregor was a wise man.

  He agreed, “Aye, we would like to meet your wife… if it pleases her.” He gave an assessing look to Beiste.

  “Amelia love,” Beiste reached his hand out and she wal
ked out to meet him. Beiste reached around and pulled her close to him. “Love, you determine what happens now, I will stand behind your decision.” Amelia kissed his cheek. She then looked out at the four men and greeted them with a tentative smile and a wave.

  Gilleain just stared at her for the longest time. It was as if he were staring at Iona. He tried hard not to cry. He watched the interaction between her and Beiste and he knew; she was in excellent hands.

  Amelia stepped forward and stood strong and proud, in her loudest voice said, “Chieftain MacLean, it is wonderful to meet you. Please seek your rest and refreshment at our table, you are all welcome.”

  Gilleain could barely contain his excitement and in a gruff voice he boomed, “Och, call me Grandad!”

  Dalziel signalled to squires who moved forward to take the horses. Brodie signalled several men, and they ushered the Maclean retainers into the bailey and Beiste signalled to Beth the cook who bobbed and hurried off to bring out the platters of food and ale.

  Amelia instantly liked her kin, especially when they reached the top of the stairs and instead of shaking hands Gilleain picked her up and gave her an enormous hug then carried her to her uncles who each gave her bear hugs. When her feet finally touched the ground, she was giddy and grinning like a fool. Beiste instantly pulled her back to his side, practically snarling at the men.

  Once inside the Hall festivities began.

  As soon as Jonet saw the men, she smiled wide and greeted them “Well if it isn’t the Macleans.” She then turned to Amelia, “That’s who ye reminded me of that first day I saw you, Iona Maclean, she was one of my closest friends.” The four men instantly recognized Jonet, for they had all met years earlier. “Aye my memory is slowly coming back to me. Iona, she looked exactly like you with the same eyes. That day you arrived I thought you were her.”