“Lady Cairren,” Arnold called out as he hobbled forward on his walking stick. “On behalf of the clan council, we are relieved to see ye returned to us hale and hearty.”
Cairren didn’t know what to say. There was no possibility they knew what Duncan had attempted. Before she could respond, Mary’s shrewish tones filled her ears.
“You want us to believe she’s a proper Christian when she walks around in naught but a mon’s leine. Disgraceful.”
Padraig stepped forward, but Cairren put a staying hand on his arm. If there was even a remote possibility that she would stay, she needed to discover what would happen if she asserted herself.
“I’m wearing my husband’s leine because I destroyed my gown. Do you ken where your other son is? Has he returned from his errand to drown me?” At the stunned gasps from the surrounding people, she suspected her questions were unexpected, but Mary’s face didn’t change. “Were you the one to suggest he take me to the Cromarty caves and drown me in the Moray Firth? Because that’s where he took me after trying to kill Lachlan Sutherland and his guards. My husband’s leine was the only thing appropriate I had after having to cut my body free from a standing stone, before I sliced away the bindings at my feet. I had little choice but to cut the bottom of my skirts so they wouldn’t pull me to the bottom of the firth. Since neither you nor Duncan bothered to get to know me, you never learned that my father taught me to swim in the Firth of Clyde. Not so different from Moray, just not quite as bluidy cold.”
“Explain this,” Arnold demanded, but his eyes were on Micheil and Mary rather than Cairren.
“I left here when you sentenced me to death for a crime I didn’t commit. I went to the Sutherlands, and the laird offered me escort south. We were just a little past here when Duncan and a score of men attacked, shooting arrows at us. I turned myself over to Duncan, praying he would keep his word and allow Lachlan and his men safe passage home. Duncan had me bound and gagged before throwing me over his saddle. He forced me to ride from here to the firth on my belly.” Cairren wasn’t about to speak of the other things Duncan did while they shared a horse. “He took me to the caves, where he tied me to a standing stone. He removed my gag and ordered me to scream, so he could enjoy hearing my cries, knowing no one would come for me. Daft man didn’t check to see if I had any knives. I cut myself free and swam out.”
“Impossible,” Micheil argued. “If he intended to drown you, then it was when the tide came in. You couldn’t have swum out. You’re lying.”
“And you’re deaf,” Cairren countered. “Did you not hear me say that my father taught me to swim in the Firth of Clyde? It’s not some placid loch. Do you not ken that Dunure sits on a cliff with caves beneath it? Where do you think I learned? He taught me how to escape should I ever need to. I never dreamed it would come in handy, but I’m glad my father thought of it. I swam out and around the outcropping. I was making my way to the cliffs when Padraig and the other men arrived. Padraig jumped in and pulled me out.”
“The lass hadn’t time to cut her hands free,” Padraig added. “She did all of that just by kicking and determination. I don’t know any mon who’d be that quick-witted and brave.” Padraig pulled her closer to his side and dropped a kiss on her forehead as she looked up at him.
Cairren looked around at the stunned faces, and she witnessed more anger directed at the laird and lady than she did toward her. She saw sympathy and pity when people looked at her. She smiled when Catriona stepped forward, holding her son in her arms. She smiled warmly at Cairren before looking around.
“I ken I’m nae a member of the laird’s family or part of the clan council, but I would like to ken what’s to be done aboot the two attempts to murder Lady Cairren.” There was a chorus of agreement as more people stepped forward to demand answers to similar questions.
Adam raised his hands, and the clan fell quiet. “Before that is decided, we need to ken if the laird will accept the council’s judgment as binding.”
Micheil raised his chin, arrogance making him ugly. “I’m still laird here. This is my clan to run as I see fit. I may have been fooled once by the priest, but that doesn’t change who Lady Cairren is, and she is not one of us.”
Padraig lunged at his father, even though he felt Cairren try to pull him back. He noted his father’s personal guards moved to separate them, but they weren’t as quick as they should have been. “Then return her dowry if she’s no use to the clan,” Padraig demanded.
“When the Kennedy returns the bride price,” Micheil countered.
“How soon can you send a messenger?” Cairren infused innocence into her voice, but the steely challenge was written across her face.
Adam once more intervened. “Does this mean we are to understand that ye willna accept the council’s judgment, Micheil?”
“It means that this is my clan to do as I see fit.” Micheil pounded his fist into his hand. “Be glad I changed my mind not to have her burned at the stake.”
“Changed yer mind?” Arnold guffawed. “We threatened to put ye up next since that so-called holy water burned ye too. Ye’re naught but a blathering fool, just like yer father was, and just like yer worthless heir. We’d do well to be done with this one and his wasted spawn and have Padraig in charge.”
Padraig and Cairren froze as the murmurs spread through the crowd, and far too many heads nodded for Cairren’s comfort. She stepped to Padraig’s side, her eyes wide with worry. He glanced down at her; her uncertainty was as clear to him as his own. The situation was not going in a direction that either expected.
“And I’ll have my guards imprison anyone fool enough to cross me, you treasonous bastards,” Micheil roared.
“Then what will ye do with Duncan?” Meg asked. “It isnae just Lady Cairren’s word or Padraig’s. Duncan involved the Sutherlands. This willna go over well with Lachlan’s da. Laird Sutherland isnae kenned to forgive those who harm his kin.”
A calculating gleam entered Micheil’s eyes, but it fizzled when Lachlan stepped forward. “We expect my Uncle Liam to visit in a sennight. I’m sure he’d be happy to ride with my father to recover my body should you go through with whatever your scheming mind is conjuring.”
Lachlan’s subtle reminder that the Sutherlands and Sinclairs stood as one force created further dissention among the crowd. “Nay!” “By God!” “Bluidy hell, that’s all we need.” And those people who had turned loyal gazes toward the laird and lady began to look away.
“Let me pose another question,” Adam’s booming voice hushed the clan members. “Does Lady Cairren have a place among our clan? A place where she is safe and welcome?”
The bailey grew deathly quiet as people looked around, but no one spoke. Cairren glanced over her shoulder at Lachlan, and he nodded his head. The clan was still frightened to support her against the laird and lady. As long as that was the case, there was still too much danger for Cairren to remain.
“Natter amongst yourselves,” Padraig grumbled. “I’m taking my wife to our chamber. She’s had enough of an ordeal this past sennight to last her a month of Sundays.” Padraig guided Cairren up the stairs, ignoring his parents. He cocked an eyebrow at a servant who stood staring too long. “Food and a bath.”
Cairren felt chilled, and it had nothing to do with the air temperature. Being inside Foulis only brought her unhappiness and trepidation. Other than coupling with Padraig, nothing good had happened since she stepped foot in the castle. She’d held out hope that the clan might surprise her, and they had. She’d expected swords drawn and pitchforks pointing at her, but the clan was more welcoming than she imagined. But their fear of the laird and lady outweighed even their fear of her being different. She couldn’t blame them when she reminded herself that their entire livelihood depended upon remaining in the laird’s good graces. Clan members worked in the keep and industries within the bailey wall, but they also farmed the land that belonged to the laird. The servants, craftsmen, and tenant farmers would have nowhere to go if the l
aird evicted them from the land they worked or, worse, banished them from the clan. Micheil held control, not with respect but with fear. Cairren understood that and pitied the clan, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her babe for them.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Padraig wanted nothing more than to soak in a hot bath with his wife leaning back against him, or better still, draped over him. He was hungry, tired, and irritated. He’d expected his parents to put up an argument, but he’d also seen his mother’s reaction when Cairren asked her about Duncan. He knew she was involved in Duncan’s plan, and it wouldn’t surprise him if she were the mastermind. His father was stubborn and too prideful.
And I wonder where I get it from. What has it gained either of us? The clan doesnae respect him. He only has control because he intimidates everyone into going along with him. I should have had faith in the clan council, but they’ve dragged their feet to intervene. Pride goeth before the fall, and I’ve tumbled head over heels. Perhaps I should have listened a little better to ma Bible lessons. Pride has lost me ma wife. I ken she still wants to leave. Do I take her to Stirling? Do I insist she stay? That’ll only make her run away with Lachlan. Do I trust him to take her? That I ken is a nay. I dinna trust anyone with Ren’s life.
“Padraig, did you hear me?” Cairren’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“Sorry, Ren. I was lost in thought,” Padraig smiled sheepishly.
“I need to talk to you,” Cairren said as they entered their chamber. Her eyes swept around the room, a chamber filled with her best and worst memories.
“I ken. You’re still going to Stirling, aren’t you?” Padraig saw no reason not to go straight to the point.
“Aye. I can’t stay here. Not as long as your parents and Duncan live here, and that will be for many years.”
“Then let’s go to Dunure.” Padraig hesitated as he wondered if she wasn’t only leaving Foulis, but leaving him.
“I will think aboot that. If I can spare anyone traveling in winter, I will. The weather is changing, and I don’t ken that I’ll make it to Stirling before the first snowfall. Dunure might be too far.”
“Before you make it to Stirling. So you’re going without me?” Padraig’s voice grew quieter with each word. The realization that Cairren might ride away without him and never return made him want to heave or cry, perhaps both.
“You can’t. You’re still Duncan’s second. You have duties here, and you will be Duncan’s heir until he has a son. We have no way of knowing when that will be.”
“The way he and Myrna are, it should take aboot a sennight. They’ll likely wed soon.”
“I will not live under the same roof as her again. She’ll only be worse once she and Duncan are openly allied.”
“Then allow me to stay in Stirling until we can go to Dunure,” Padraig tried to reason.
“And do what? Become a courtier? The queen might accept me among her matrons, but what will you do? Spend all day, every day in the lists? You’d be miserable.”
“I’d be with you,” Padraig insisted.
Cairren’s shoulders slumped. They’d come to an impasse, their differences too irreconcilable to move forward. She wouldn’t remain at Foulis with his family governing her life, and he couldn’t leave because he was duty-bound to remain. “Let Lachlan take me to Stirling. Time apart might not be horrible.”
“Yes, it would. Ren, I want you by my side, not halfway across the country. We have much to overcome, much for me to prove. How can we do that with you in Stirling and me in the Highlands? Unless you don’t want to work things out.” The idea crushed Padraig when he said it out loud. It was one thing when it was a thought silently swirling around in his mind. He could push it to the side, pretend like it was never there. But he’d said it aloud, and it was very real, hanging in the air between him.
Cairren wanted to avoid answering. She wanted to skirt the issue, but she knew Padraig would realize what she was doing and persist until he got an answer. She opted for honesty. “I don’t know.”
Padraig nodded. He supposed it was better than her saying no. Her admission was the last thing said before the servants arrived with food and the bath. Padraig looked keenly at the tub, but Cairren’s eyelids were already beginning to droop. He needed to get her fed, warm, and clean before she climbed into their bed.
Our bed. That’s the last time I might ever think of it that way. But who am I kidding? I have nay one to blame but maself. I could have done the honorable thing and sent Myrna away before Cairren even arrived, but I didna. I wanted to have everything, a wife to bed and another woman to love. I did this. I destroyed our chance. I’m more to blame than ma parents, Duncan, and Myrna combined. I pledged maself to her, and didna mean any of it except for the part aboot nae sharing ma bed with another woman. Why would I have needed to? All I did back then was lust for her. Things couldnae be more different, yet they’re still the same. She canna stay.
Padraig pushed his self-recrimination aside as he helped Cairren bathe, then encouraged her to eat. It wasn’t until after she climbed into bed and fell asleep that he ate and bathed himself. He slid into the bed next to her, and she rolled closer, curling against him. He knew she didn’t realize what she was doing, but even in sleep, part of her knew that she belonged at his side. He would take her to Stirling, but he wouldn’t relinquish his wife.
Chapter Forty
Cairren awoke from the deepest sleep she could remember and found Padraig wrapped around her tightly. It was as though he shielded her from the world. She lay without moving as she absorbed the warmth of his body and the security it offered. When she arrived at Foulis and met him, she never imagined she would sleep next to him. She assumed they would remain distant, constant enemies. His presence now was familiar and comforting. But it also wasn’t enough.
Cairren tried to slip from her cocoon, but Padraig pulled her back against his chest and nuzzled her neck. “Fifteen more minutes, Ren. Then we’ll get ready to leave.”
Cairren rolled toward him, their eyes locking on one another. Without words, their mouths came together. Padraig’s tongue flicked Cairren’s lips as she parted them for him. Their tongues tangled and dueled as the kiss combusted into a need that could only be satisfied one way. There was silent acceptance that this might be the last time they ever coupled, and both needed it to say goodbye. Padraig’s hand caressed her breasts as she arched her back to him, her mewls fueling his desire as he tweaked her nipples. When his fingers grazed over her belly, Cairren shivered then moaned when those questing digits dipped into her entrance. She pressed her hips to meet his hand.
As she rocked to each thrust, his thumb circled her nub until she writhed with a burning need to feel him inside her. She reached for his length, stroking him as he worked her core. She moved slowly as she marveled as she always did that something so hard and forceful could be so smooth. She swept her thumb of the head of Padraig’s cock, swirling what leaked from the tip. When neither could bear the foreplay any longer, Padraig rolled between Cairren’s legs, and she guided him to her entrance. Padraig paused as once more their eyes met. They both saw a depth of emotion in their partner’s eyes that conveyed as much as their joining and far more than words could. Padraig surged into her, and Cairren’s head tilted back as she moaned. Her exposed neck was an invitation Padraig wouldn’t resist. He kissed the satiny skin and along the taut cords until he reached the erotic spot behind her ear. Cairren’s body burst, as if into flames, as her release spread from deep within her core.
Padraig wished they could freeze in time just as they were, the emotions and sensations suspended, but reveled in until eternity. He would forsake his duties, his birthright, everything if he could remain with Cairren. Her tight sheath pulled him deeper with every thrust until there was nowhere further to go. They couldn’t be more joined than they were with him buried within her core, their mouths pressed together, and their arms wrapped around one another. There was nothing between them, nothing that could separate them as
they moved as one, a practiced synchronicity. They hurtled toward their climax, crying out together. As Padraig’s release filled her, he knew that there was no claim to Cairren greater than their lovemaking. It tempted him to proclaim his love, but it felt pathetic and manipulative to make that declaration as Cairren was set to leave. He would use their journey and their time in Stirling to prove it.
Cairren had never felt more cherished or deeply in love than while she and Padraig made love. She knew that their coupling was no longer just two bodies coming together. She could see the deep emotion in Padraig’s eyes, and she knew what she felt. But he made no professions, and she’d sworn to leave. She considered telling him how she felt, but it would only make the journey and his time in Stirling more uncomfortable. She knew he would argue against it, but she would send him back to the Highlands while she waited out the winter at Stirling Castle. It might not have been what she wanted, but it was what she knew was right. She wouldn’t swear never to return--she carried his child after all. She prayed that their time apart would be what they needed for Padraig to convince the clan she belonged. But both her head and her heart told her she was fooling herself, trying to ease the impending pain. She was certain Padraig would never take their child from her, but she wouldn’t deny him time with their babe. She assured herself that they would cross that bridge when they came to it.
As Padraig withdrew from her, Cairren wanted to cling to him, not ready for them to part. She knew she couldn’t. It was her desire to leave that would separate them. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she willed herself not to cry. She rolled to her side of the bed and inhaled deeply as she geared herself to dress and leave their chamber for the last time. She never imagined she would feel so conflicted, or that she would question her decision so much. Her eyes landed on her chest, and she knew that was the most she would take with her. She would leave her loom behind since there was no way to carry it with them. All her other worldly goods had been part of her dowry and now belonged to the Munros. She didn’t hear Padraig approach, and jumped when he placed his hands on the outside of her shoulders. He nuzzled her neck and placed a kiss on her pulse point.
An Enemy at the Highland Court: An Enemies to Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 5) Page 28