Reckless Scotland: A Scottish Medieval Romance Bundle

by Victoria Vane

  Without further ado, Connor plucked the eating knife from the tray but hesitated. As he lifted his gaze to peer at her, concern weighed on his young features.

  “The guards at the gate spoke to Niall.” With the tip of his knife, he pushed around a morsel of meat. “The two happened to hear you and Aaron arguing.”

  Of course, they had. Neither she nor Aaron had been especially guarded with their words. At the time, she cared not if they’d drawn an unexpected audience.

  “’Tis naught to worry over, Connor. We simply had a disagreement.”

  ’Twas putting it mildly but she’d rather not discuss the matter.

  “But, you were absent from the hall afterward. I thought…is everything all right?”

  “Do not fret.” She waved away his concern. “’Tis naught, in truth.”

  His dubious stare spoke of his incredulity. “If you say so.”

  Piling the pillows behind her back, she scooted backward to lean against the cushions while Connor dug into his meal. As she watched, her eyes grew as heavy as her head. Her nose grew more congested causing her to breathe through her opened mouth. Listening to the clatter of the knife and trencher as the young man filled his belly, she tugged the furs tighter around her neck and rested her eyes.

  Another time, in the same dejected mood, the noise might’ve aggravated her. In that particular instant, the lad’s presence somewhat eased the burden of her frustrations. Mayhap, because the young man reminded her so much of her kin.

  “Aaron and I are in the midst of a quarrel as well, you know,” Connor spoke around a mouthful of food.

  Mairi’s eyes popped open to focus on Connor, who nodded to accentuate his words.

  He swallowed his bite. “We’ve not spoken in a pair of days.”

  ’Twas an interesting development. “Why not?”

  Once he finished eating, Connor set the knife on the tray and pushed the trencher aside. Propping an arm behind him to hold himself upright, he swung his leg hanging over the edge of the bed back and forth. His posture reflected that of a relaxed man, but the lines of worry marring his countenance revealed his discomfiture.

  “’Tis possible I acted a bit rash, but I vow I could not bear anymore of his dismissiveness. Well, I told him as much.” With a sheepish curve of his lips, he admitted, “I remembered your words, too. So, I might’ve said he should pull his head out of his arse.”

  Unable to control her mirth, a loud bark of laughter tumbled out of Mairi. “What I would’ve given to see his face.”

  He joined in her laughter. “’Twas a shock. That’s for certain. But, he needed to hear the words. I can only hope he might heed them.”

  Her humor subsiding, she shook her head. “I’m unsure if he ever will, Connor.”

  “I hope you’re wrong.”

  “In truth, I hope so, too.”

  Without a doubt, a good man resided somewhere within Aaron, beneath the burden of guilt and stubborn foolishness he allowed to control his actions. For his sake and his loved ones, she hoped the man found a way to divest himself of his troubles before ’twas too late.

  Connor sat forward, plucking at the furs beside his bent knee. “I regret bringing you here and saddling you with naught but one difficulty after another. I’m sorry if Aaron’s hurt you.”

  For a moment, Mairi thought to wave off his apology but ’twas true. Aaron might not have grasped the effect of his words, but he had hurt her.

  Though, she bore part of the responsibility. Had she safeguarded her feelings, rather than leaving herself open and exposed then, mayhap, she’d not suffer the twinge of heartache dwelling in her chest at present. Saints, and to think she’d brazenly stolen a kiss from him earlier. Her cheeks burned with mortification.

  “Do you think him lost, Mairi?”

  Connor’s candid question gave her pause. For long moments, she considered the query.

  Was anyone truly lost or unworthy of redemption?

  Truth be told, she’d encountered a handful of wretched human beings who reveled in causing others naught but harm. They’d allowed vileness to guide every reprehensible action in their accursed lives. But, Aaron was in no way comparable.

  Despite her anger and disappointment in him, she knew in her heart he was a decent, honorable man. He fully deserved the respect and admiration his clan offered, if the foolish man would simply set aside his stubbornness and accept.

  Mairi lifted her chin. “Nay, I do not believe that for one moment. I’m confident he shall find his way, Connor.”

  The strain creasing his features shifted into an assured smile. “I’m glad.” He glanced at the hearth over his shoulder. “Allow me to build the fire before you seek your slumber.” He nodded at the napkin clutched in her hand. “I’ve a feeling you shall need to the warmth.”

  He’d receive no complaints from her. At present, her stuffy head swam and she could not breathe through one nostril.

  Once done with his task, he pointed to the fare on the bed. “Shall I leave that for you? You’ve not eaten a thing.”

  “Nay, I’m not hungry.” She dropped her head back to rest against the mound of pillows.

  Picking up the tray, he strode for the door but paused to frown at her. “What of Gertie? Shall I send for her?”

  She waved away his concern. “Nay, ’tis fine. A good night’s sleep shall do me well.”

  At least, she hoped so. Otherwise, she planned to use Aaron’s length of tartan to wipe her nose.

  Chapter Fifteen

  AARON TURNED THE tankard upward, gulping a healthy measure of the fortified drink. The deep swallow of whisky licked a path of fire straight down to the pit of his stomach where the amber liquid churned in discord. The pungent odor all but singed the hairs in his nostrils. Saints, no wonder he never imbibed the foul drink.

  For now, he shoved aside his distaste, desperately seeking the numbing aftereffects. With any luck, the wretched drink would cease the incessant tangle of his thoughts.

  From the warmth of her bed before the hearth, Ash observed him through a set of narrowed green eyes, as if the wee beast somehow judged him, too, like everyone else.

  “Do not look at me so,” he muttered. “You would not understand. How could you? You’re naught but a silly cat.”

  As though she’d comprehended his words, Ash leaped to her paws and padded toward the entrance just as Niall swung the door wide open.

  “Wait,” Aaron shouted.

  The cat charged for the door, darting around Niall’s legs, and made her escape from the solar.

  With a tray in one hand, Niall peered out in the corridor after the cat. “Shall I fetch it for you?”

  “Why bother?” Aaron grumbled. “She’s angry with me as well.”

  Hell, who had he not angered as of late?

  Rather than comment, Niall shook his head and stepped inside, sealing the door after him. He tipped his head at the tray of fare. “Where do you want this?”

  With the whisky searing a hole through his gut, food was the last thing on Aaron’s mind. “It matters not.”

  Releasing a deep sigh, Niall strode to a half-finished trestle table Aaron had failed to complete as planned that day and placed the serving tray on top of the rough timbers.

  “’Tis here when you wish to eat.” Niall shifted to face him. His friend’s gaze immediately landed on the tankard hanging limp in Aaron’s hand. “Ah, I see you’ve resorted to drowning your sorrows.”

  The cynical remark hit its desired target, goading Aaron’s annoyance. “If I’m not mistaken, I did not ask for your opinion. So, I fail to see how ’tis any of your concern.”

  “Nay, ’tis not,” Niall drawled out. “Allow me to offer a bit of advice. That”—he pointed to the tankard—“shall not improve your foul mood in the least.”

  Unveiled censure colored his friend’s words, drawing Aaron’s anger to the surface.

  “I do not believe I asked your advice.” He glared at the big man. “In fact, feel free to show yourself
to the door.”

  Unblinking, Niall straightened his shoulders and crossed his thick arms over his broad chest. He raked Aaron with a harsh, unyielding stare.

  The subject of the man’s dissecting scrutiny, Aaron lashed out at his friend. “For Christ’s sake, go! Do you not have some other trivial matter to attend to rather than standing here badgering me?”

  If anything, Niall’s glower of disapproval deepened. “You’re an arse.”

  When he threw his hands down at his sides, Aaron expected Niall to storm from the solar, leaving him in blessed peace. Alas, the man stalked to one of the chairs Aaron crafted a fortnight ago and grabbed the back with his meaty hand. As he dragged the legs over the stone floor, Aaron winced at the piercing scrape of the heavy wood. Lifting the piece of furniture, Niall deposited the chair in front of Aaron with a loud bang and plunked his arse down in the seat.

  When silence yawned, Aaron snorted. “So, you’re going to sit there like a fool, instead?”

  Niall leaned back, the wood groaning beneath his substantial weight. “Nay, you’re going to listen to what the hell I have to say for a damned change.”

  Outraged at the suggestion, Aaron snarled, “Have you damned well lost—”

  “Enough!” Niall’s bellow resounded from the stone walls.

  The sharp, uncharacteristic command, paired with the hard, daunting look sweeping across Niall’s features, stunned Aaron speechless. His gaping mouth snapped shut.

  “’Tis long overdue, this talk of ours. For once, I’ll not allow you to shove me aside merely because you have no wish to hear the truth. Just sit there and listen,” Niall ordered.

  Quelling the urge to rail at the man, Aaron rolled his eyes and slumped in his seat. With a jerk of his head, he remarked dryly, “Proceed, if you’re so inclined.”

  “You know, ’tis hard to believe at present, but there once was a time not so long ago when I admired the man you were. Despite years of cruelty and neglect from your father, you never succumbed to his influence. You held firm in your sense of duty and honor, even managing to shield Connor from Brodie to the best of your ability. You took it upon yourself to see to your brother’s welfare and raised him with respect and integrity, which has made him the man he’s growing into.”

  Aaron frowned at the mention of his brother. What other choice had there been? He’d promised their mother to care for the lad and protect him from their father’s corrupting reach. Saints, he refused to allow Connor to grow into the same wretched sort of human being as their father.

  Leaning forward, Niall propped his elbows on his knees and peered at the fire. “I regret to say that after the initial shock of your father’s murder faded, many of the clan rejoiced.” He admitted with a shrug, “Myself included.”

  Aye, so had Aaron and his brother. ’Twas no love lost on their parts.

  Niall continued, “Brodie was a pitiful excuse for a laird, much less a man. He was naught but a blight to our clan. Alas, ’twas naught any of us could’ve done to stop him. Apart from ending his miserable life ourselves, or leaving the clan altogether, as some had done. But, we could not. Killing the bastard would’ve made us no better than him, and this is our home.” He met Aaron’s stare. “I know you somehow believe you might’ve ousted your father from the lairdship in some manner, but do not deceive yourself. There’s no doubt in my mind, he would’ve branded you a traitor and strung you up in the courtyard to make an example of you.”

  Aaron’s heart quickened its pace. How had Niall guessed one of his main regrets? That he’d never successfully found a way to remove his father as laird, even if it meant Brodie’s death. ’Twas a dark thought Aaron kept to himself. Never even revealing the truth to Connor.

  Niall smirked. “I can tell from your expression I’ve surprised you. We’ve been friends since we were wee lads, Aaron. By this point in our lives, I have no trouble understanding you.” He snorted. “Saints, if the Englishman brought any good to the clan, ’twas that he ridded of us of Brodie and those loyal to the man. Mayhap, I should give him credit for your lass as well.”

  Mairi was not his lass. He opened his mouth to spout as much, but his friend threw up a large hand.

  “I’ve not finished yet, damn it,” he ground out. “I’ve waited long enough to speak my piece, so bite your tongue. Look, I know you’ve carried a heavy burden over the years. No matter what the clan has had to face from your father, you and Connor have faced the same right alongside of us. But, since his death and after the whole affair with Mairi and MacGregor’s wife, you’ve stumbled off course somewhere.” Sympathy eased over Niall’s hardened features. “Not a single one of the MacRaes has ever blamed you for your father or what occurred the prior year. All of us accepted you did what was required of you to keep Connor alive. In fact, you did precisely what any number of us would’ve done for our kin. So, why you should feel any guilt for your actions absolutely confounds me.”

  “I should’ve ordered Longford from the hall,” Aaron muttered.

  “Are you daft?” Niall rolled his eyes. “Brodie would’ve removed you, instead. Then, out of spite, the Englishman would’ve murdered you and Connor just as he did your father.”

  “Well, if I—”

  “Nay!” Niall roared as he straightened in his seat. His spine was as straight as an arrow. “When will you ever learn? Accept some matters for what they are—beyond your control. You cannot squander your life, wondering what might’ve happened, because ’tis already come to pass. ’Tis over and done with, Aaron. ’Tis time to move forward. You cannot lie down and concede defeat like a sullen child. Or worse, hide yourself away to assemble pieces of wood each day, merely because you’re too terrified to face your people. The same people who’ve done naught but support you and Connor for years. Saints, I understand you’ve had your fair share of hardships, but damn it, we all have.” Niall leaned closer, impaling Aaron with the intensity of his gaze. “I’ll offer you a warning. Whether you heed my words is your choice. You’re treading down a perilous path, my friend. No longer are you merely hurting yourself.”

  The truth of Niall’s words all but slapped Aaron across the cheek. The horrid whisky he’d consumed soured in his churning belly. For long moments, he could do naught but sit in mute silence, digesting the other man’s jarring speech. Bone-deep regret hammered at him from all sides. Not for the things he could not change, but rather, for the deeds he’d committed.

  Lifting a hand to rub at the mounting ache in his temple, he could not form an adequate response to spare his pathetic life. When had he allowed himself to turn into such a miserable wretch?

  Even worse, his absurd behavior reminded him of another person—someone he’d endeavored never to become—his father. The unsettling notion tolled through his head with startling clarity.

  His own selfish ignorance and arseward way of thinking had shaped him into a person he despised with a vengeance. He’d dismissed everything or shoved aside everyone who mattered most his life. Before, he’d thought himself no better than his negligent, selfish father. Now, they truly were one and the same. And, he’d allowed it to happen.

  He lowered his hand and met his friend’s waiting stare. For years, Niall had offered naught but loyal friendship, and Aaron had taken advantage of the man’s reliable nature and devotion to their clan, leaving him and Connor to hold together the crumbling pieces.

  “I have been a fool.” He owed his old friend far more than a paltry apology but ’twas all he could offer in that instant. “Niall…I’m sorry. Truly, I hope you can forgive me.”

  “I already have.” Niall shrugged. “And, I have no doubt the clan will as well once you speak to them.”

  Aaron grasped the veiled demand in the other man’s words. ’Twas a matter he’d disregarded for too long. “In truth, I’d hoped Connor might one day lead the clan.”

  “I’m well aware,” Niall stated. “You should know your brother has no wish to lead. ’Tis you who the clan looks to for guidance, as does Connor. He�
�s too young to accept such a burden and far less prepared than you. Aaron, you are the laird, so ’tis time for you to act like one.”

  Though the notion filled him with unease, Niall spoke the truth. Again, in his own selfishness, he’d expected to hoist the burden of leadership upon Connor’s shoulders. He’d not bothered to ask the lad his thoughts on the matter. He’d merely taken for granted his brother would lead.

  Despite his silence and absence from the hall the past year, Aaron truly cared for his clan. From afar, he’d spent his days toiling with repairs around the holding, securing the crumbling walls and faulty structures, or building furniture to replace much of what his father had sold off for a bit of coin over the years. Of course, what good would any of that do when he’d left the MacRaes struggling to keep their heads afloat amid a turbulent sea of uncertainty?

  With a shaky sigh, he raked a hand over his face. “I’ll speak with the clan on the morrow.”

  Niall nodded. “Afterward, you should speak to your brother and Lady Mairi.”

  At the mention of Connor and Mairi, Aaron dropped his pounding head against the back of the chair with a thud. Every wretched word he’d spoken to the pair in anger swarmed in his mind, bombarding him with disgust.

  Saints, how could he have been such a selfish, callous arse? ’Twas possible no amount of groveling might spare him this time.

  His friend rose from his seat, snaring Aaron’s attention. “I shall bid you a good eve. There are still a few matters that demand my attention before I seek my bed.”

  Aaron sat forward in his seat. “Why have you never spoken before now?”

  Niall snorted. “Would you have honestly listened? You never have before.”

  Nay, Aaron admitted to himself. ’Twas truth, he would’ve dismissed the man as easily as he had everything else in the past year.

  “Allow me to make another observation,” Niall said. “Whether you’re ready to admit it or not, the woman’s good for you, so cease blundering things with her, eh?”

  The droll statement wrung a chuckle from Aaron. He acknowledged the words with a grin. “You’re wise beyond your years, old friend.”