If he couldn’t punish the mother, he’d punish the daughter.
Things could not have gone better if he had planned them himself. Fate, it seemed, had finally decided to present him with a way to finally exact the revenge that had been too long in arriving.
That long sought after revenge was coming in the form of a Mackintosh. A man from a long line of brutal, vicious men. Men who thought nothing of killing whoever might stand in the way of something they wanted. Men who had killed their way across the lands of Scotland. Men with reputations for rape and murder. Soulless bastards, every single one. They were worse than any Bowie had ever hoped to be.
Aye, things were beginning to look up for Mermadak McLaren.
Four
IGNORING HIS BROTHER Ian’s advice, Frederick, Ian and some thirty-five volunteers arrived at the McLaren keep three mornings before the wedding. Frederick thought it made sense to arrive early and unexpected so they might get a better feel for how things truly were among the McLaren clan. Ian thought it made better sense to not show up at all.
When Frederick caught his first glimpse of the McLaren keep, he was tempted to turn around and head back to Graham lands. Raising his hand to bring his men to a halt, Frederick stood staring at the sight before him in utter disbelief.
It had to have been the smallest keep he’d ever seen. It wasn’t necessarily in shambles, but neither was it in perfect condition.
At some point in time, part of the outer wall had caved in, either by an act of nature, an attack or because it had been poorly constructed. Who knew. Apparently it happened some time ago for vines grew around and over the tumbled stones. Apparently the McLaren didn’t worry about anyone attacking.
The keep appeared to have been thrown together with whatever resources could be found. The lower floor was built from large limestone blocks. The upper floor was a hodgepodge mix of stones varying in size and color. The roof of the keep was a blend of wood and slate. It appeared that wood shingles had been used in the place of slate tiles whenever a repair was necessary.
From where he sat, Frederick could see that two windows on the upper floor had been boarded shut. An old fur hung out of one window, flapping in the morning breeze. If there hadn’t been people in the courtyard, Frederick would have sworn the entire place had been deserted.
Ian and Findal pulled their horses to stand on either side of Frederick. Both men tilted their heads to their right. “Findal,” Ian said. “Is it me, or is the keep listin’ to the east?”
Findal’s brow was drawn inward and his eyes squinted as if doing so would bring some clarity. He shook his head incredulously. “Aye, I think yer right, Ian.”
Both men looked at Frederick who was sitting atop his horse with his mouth agape. This was not what he had envisioned when he had agreed to marry Aggie McLaren.
“Frederick?” Ian said, leaning forward a bit so that he could get a better look at his brother. “’Tis no’ too late, brother. We can turn around and leave. No one would blame ye.”
Frederick took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Nay,” Frederick said, sounding a bit disheartened. “I may be a rakehell and a rabble-rouser, but I keep me word.”
“But, Frederick,” Findal said. “No one would blame ye! Just look at the place.”
“I see it,” Frederick snapped.
“Why do they no’ make repairs?” Findal said.
“Och!” Ian countered. “We’d be better off tearin’ the keep down and startin’ anew.”
Frederick gave a curt nod of his head. That might no’ be such a bad idea, he thought to himself.
AGGIE FELT HER heart jump into her throat when she saw Frederick Mackintosh and his men standing outside the gate of her keep. She had been airing out one of the rooms on the second floor when she caught sight of the men and horses. He be early!
She couldn’t believe the man had actually shown up. There was a part of her that hoped he wouldn’t, for a number of reasons. Her primary concern and worry lay in the fact that she knew nothing about the man who had agreed to marry her.
Night after night she had lain in her pallet and fretted. Not over what kind of man Frederick Mackintosh was, but how he would respond when he learned the truth about her. She’d been down the road of betrothal before and it had failed miserably. Convinced now that once he got a better look at what he had bargained for, he would call off the wedding and leave. She would have to make plans to escape once that happened.
Frederick appeared to be a nice enough fellow. But Aggie knew appearances could be deceiving. No matter how nice he may seem, once he learned even one of the her dark secrets, she knew he would run as far away from her and McLaren lands as he could. No lands or chance at a chiefdom were worth her.
This time when she ran away, she promised herself she wouldn’t get caught. Ailrig was older now by three years. He understood the importance of not getting caught and knew all too well what would happen if they did.
Mayhap, Aggie thought, he is here to break the betrothal. Fear shot down her spine. I’m as good as dead.
Aggie ran from the room, the door banging against the wall behind her. She raced to her room and began to pace. I’ll pack now, she decided. Fer they’ll no’ be much time once he’s done speakin’ to da.
Since she had very few possessions, she was packed in a matter of moments. She tucked her meager belongings inside a sheet and rolled them up inside her pallet. Her hands shook with dread as she thought about what to do next.
Ailrig. She needed to find him in case they needed to make a hasty escape.
Taking a deep breath to quell the rising panic, she quietly left her room. Sooner, rather than later, she needed to find out why Frederick Mackintosh was here three days early. Once she had that information, she’d be better able to plan her next step.
IT HADN’T TAKE long to find Ailrig. He was out of doors, watching the other children play from a safe distance. As quickly as she could and without drawing any unwanted attention, Aggie took Ailrig back into the keep and to their room above stairs. Once she had his promise that he’d not leave the room without her, Aggie stepped into the hallway. She had to find out if Frederick was here to break the troth.
From the dark second floor corridor Aggie could see Frederick and two of his men as they headed into her father’s room below stairs. Curious, she made her way to the small chamber that sat over her father’s room, closed the door behind her and went to the fireplace. For years, she had used this small room as a way of keeping tabs on her father and his moods. On more than one occasion it had proven useful and helped her to stay clear of many of his tirades. Desperate to learn more about Frederick Mackintosh and why he was here three days early, she threw aside any guilt she had for eavesdropping. It wasn’t like she could just walk up to the man and ask him what he was about.
Reasoning that her life was at stake, she sat on the floor near the hearth and listened. Her stomach was in knots as tiny beads of sweat formed on her upper lip.
Never one to beat about the bush unless it was to his own advantage, Mermadak came straight to the point.
“Why are ye here three days early?” He was not at all pleased with the early arrival of Frederick and his men.
Frederick’s chuckling filtered up through the chimney. “I thought to come early to assess the keep and yer lands.”
“Ye could have done that after the wedding.”
“Aye, I could have. I also wanted to spend some time with Aggie, to get to know her a bit better.”
Aggie raised an eyebrow at Frederick’s answer. No one ever took the time to know her a bit better. If anything, they avoided her.
“Och!” Mermadak spat. “How many times must I tell ye that the girl doesna speak?”
The room below was silent for several heartbeats. Aggie found herself wishing she was in the room so she could see Frederick. Though she could gauge his mood by his tone of voice, she knew she could learn more if she could read his face.
“Certainly
there must be some way the lass communicates with people,” Frederick prodded.
“Bah! ’Tis foolishness. I told ye before, she’ll do whatever ye tell her,” Mermadak huffed before going on. “Most men would be glad fer a wife that canna speak. I wish me dead wife had been blessed with the same affliction! ’Twould have made bein’ married to her far more enjoyable. Less arguin’ and complainin’, ye ken.”
Another long moment of silence.
“Do ye ever purchase goods without first inspectin’ them?” Frederick asked in a low and serious tone.
Goods? That’s all I am to any of them. Just a means to an end. She couldn’t understand why Frederick’s honesty made her feel so disheartened. Mayhap because there was a tiny part of her that had been hoping he was different from all the other men she had known in her life. She wanted to believe that the kind smiles he had bestowed upon her—there had been two and she could remember each just as vividly as if he now stood in front of her—were a glimpse into what kind of man Frederick Mackintosh truly was.
Foolish woman, she thought to herself. Frederick Mackintosh is no’ a kind man. His smile is merely a means to disarm yer good senses. Letting loose a small disappointed sigh, Aggie pushed herself to her feet. There was nothing to be gained by listening further. She had heard enough.
THE CONVERSATION BELOW stairs continued.
“Bah! Ye can inspect her all ye want after ye say yer vows,” Mermadak said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Frederick maintained his steely glare. Ian and Findal cast sideways glances at one another. Ian admired the way his brother was able to maintain control of his anger. Were Ian in his brother’s shoes, he doubted he would have had the mental strength necessary to keep from strangling Mermadak McLaren.
“I want to see the lass,” Frederick demanded.
“Nay.”
“Why do ye refuse me simple request Mermadak?” he asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“I do no’ see a need fer it. Ye can see the girl in three days’ time when ye exchange yer vows.”
Frederick could not understand why Mermadak refused to allow him even a few moments with his future bride. Deciding he would get no further with Mermadak, Frederick left the room with his men following fast behind him.
“Why did ye no’ insist on seein’ the lass, Frederick?” Ian asked once they were a safe distance from Mermadak’s room.
Frederick kept on walking down the corridor and through the kitchens. Once they were outside and away from prying eyes and ears, Frederick finally answered. He pulled his men in by placing a hand on their shoulders. “I did no’ insist further because I knew it would serve no purpose. Mermadak is hiding something—nay, many things and I fear it goes beyond just his daughter. I want ye to keep yer eyes and ears open, lads. Something be terribly amiss here and I want to find out what.”
Ian and Findal glanced at one another. “Will ye call off the weddin’?” Findal asked.
“Nay, I will no’ do that,” Frederick answered firmly. “I may be many things, but I am not a man who goes back on his word.”
“Are ye certain the lass is worth it?” Ian asked.
Frederick could not answer that question now. It was one more reason he wanted to see Aggie before they exchanged vows. “I dunnae, Ian. But I ken I’ll never get another chance to be chief of a clan.”
Ian shook his head. “Frederick, is bein’ a chief so important that ye’ll sacrifice a happy marriage fer it?”
Frederick needed to time to think on it. “Aye, it is.”
More likely than not, this would be Frederick’s one and only chance in life to be chief of any clan. He scanned his surroundings, taking in the dilapidated buildings, the sagging roof on the stables and pitiful gardens. It would take a lot of hard work, but Frederick knew in his heart that someday he would have a large and fierce clan, one that would rival most. Love, or even the hope at finding love, was not part of the equation.
MERMADAK SOUGHT AGGIE out as soon as his meeting with Frederick was over. “Ye do no’ leave yer room, no’ fer any reason, do ye understand?” Mermadak growled. Aggie gave a quick nod of affirmation and ran to her room as fast as her feet would take her.
She remained there for the rest of the day mulling over the conversation she had heard between Frederick and her father. It was abundantly clear to her that the man was only interested in becoming chief of her clan. She was nothing more than chattel, a means to an end. Why that bit of knowledge hurt, she couldn’t understand.
Aggie did her best to convince herself that it didn’t matter what Frederick Mackintosh thought of her. He wanted the chiefdom and her lands and nothing more. Mayhap that be a good thing, she thought to herself. Mayhap he’ll leave me be.
Guilt plagued her heart. She wished she had the courage to seek him out and try to explain to him that this marriage was not in either of their best interests. Nothing good could come of this union for she was far too defective and damaged. If only she had a way to tell him the truth so that he could leave with his pride and reputation still intact.
Aggie knew that once he learned the truth, he would ask for an annulment. Mayhap it would be best to tell him everything before they exchanged vows. Mayhap he would appreciate knowing the full scope of things and he’d be so glad to know she had saved him from a lifetime of embarrassment that he would take her and Ailrig with him.
Nay, that was too much to hope for. What man in his right mind would agree to take on a scarred, mute girl and her little brother and champion for them?
I must have a plan of action fer when this all falls horribly apart, Aggie told herself. When Frederick Mackintosh learns the truth, he will walk away in disgust, just like the last man ye were betrothed to. There will be no hiding from yer da then. How long will Rose be able to protect Ailrig then? Nay, ye must find a way to leave this place.
If she could not find a way to talk to Frederick before the wedding, then she would have to find a way to tell him before they consummated their union. Aggie wasn’t sure which terrified her the most. The punishment her father would inflict upon her and Ailrig when he found out she had failed yet again or the disgust she would see in Frederick Mackintosh’s eyes when he learned the truth. She could only hope that Frederick would not lash out and beat her before he left.
Five
AILRIG WAS GOOD at staying out of the way. He was also very good at spying. Aggie had told him more than once that someday, when he was big, he would make a good spy for the king. He loved Aggie and there was naught he would not do for her. Ailrig felt proud that she thought so highly of him and the she trusted him enough for this mission.
Although the McLaren keep was small, there were many nooks and crannies in which a small nine year old lad could hide. There were passageways that only he and Aggie knew about. Many a time they had hidden themselves in those secret places to keep from getting another whipping from the McLaren.
As quietly as a church mouse, Ailrig made his way through the dark and winding corridors. Frederick and his men had been given a large room to share on the third floor of the keep, far away from the tiny room he shared with Aggie.
Ailrig listened intently as Frederick spoke with Ian and Findal on all manner of things. The main topic of their conversation seemed centered around what Frederick intended to do once he was made chief. The more Ailrig listened, the more he began to like these strange men. They were so different from the McLaren and his men.
Where the McLaren usually plotted on ways to get in good with the Bowie—the chief of the neighboring clan to their east and a man that neither Ailrig or Aggie liked—Frederick and his men spoke of farming and livestock and ways to make Clan McLaren more prosperous. They spoke of Frederick’s father and Rowan Graham. Apparently those two men were honorable and just and had agreed to send warriors here to help Frederick, to increase their numbers, not to lay siege.
The men sat and planned for more than an hour. By the time they were finished and quit the room for the
evening meal, Ailrig’s heart was filled with awe and wonder and he could not wait to share his news with Aggie. Silently, he left the tiny space behind the wall of Frederick’s temporary quarters and made his way into the dimly lit hallway.
As he rounded the corner, Ailrig ran straight into a pair of legs that felt as hard as stone. Ailrig’s eyes grew as wide as trenchers when he tilted his head back and looked up at Ian Mackintosh. Ian was a tall man, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. Ailrig had heard him being introduced earlier and thought that Ian looked nothing at all like Frederick.
He swallowed hard and found the courage to apologize. “I be sorry, m’laird!” he squeaked as he ducked down and covered his head with his arm.
“Och, laddie!” Ian said.
Uncertain what Ian Mackintosh would do, Ailrig prepared himself for a smack to the head. That’s what the McLaren and his men would have done.
“Laddie,” Ian said in a softer voice. “Ye needn’t cower in fear of me.”
Then Ian did something Ailrig was not expecting. He laid a gentle hand on Ailrig’s shoulder and crouched down so that he could look him in the eye. “All is well, laddie. I didna mean to run into ye. I wasna watchin’ where I was goin’.”
Uncertain if it was a ruse to get him to lower his guard, Ailrig slowly lowered his arm and peeked over it. The man was smiling at him and not in a sinister or angry way, like the McLaren and his men oft did. Nay, it was a kind smile, the kind of smile Aggie and Rose would give him.
“I be Ian Mackintosh,” Ian said. “Who be ye?”
Ailrig struggled to find his voice. “Ailrig,” he mumbled.
“Ailrig? That be a nice name fer a young man. Who do ye belong to?”
“Belong to?” Ailrig asked, still confused over Ian’s kind treatment.
Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series Page 4