“I suppose I’d have done me duty to ye. But honestly, I thought once ye saw me scars, ye would no’ want me.” The sadness in her eyes made him feel all the more guilty.
“Aggie, I be so terribly sorry fer how I treated ye. I swear I’ll spend the rest of me life makin’ it up to ye.”
The smile that he had fallen in love with erupted across her face. “Ye already have, ye eejit!” she teased him. “Please, do no’ fash over it. I do no’ want to live in the past, Frederick. I did that fer far too long.” She leaned up and kissed him tenderly on his lips.
Though her kiss had not been passionate, the effect was the same. His arousal was instant and the longer she kissed him, the more painful it became to have her sitting on his lap.
Aggie pulled away, the smile still alight in her eyes. She giggled and bit her bottom lip.
He arched a brow. “What be so funny?”
She shook her head and refused to answer, all the while fighting the urge to laugh outright.
“I demand to ken what ye find so amusin’, wife.”
“Me kisses seem to be havin’ an effect on yer person,” she told him, referring to his current state of arousal that she could feel pushing against her bottom. Finally unable to contain her laughter, she threw her head back and laughed.
“And ye find that amusin’?” he asked incredulously.
“More pleasin’ than amusin’,” she told him as she tried to quiet her laughter. “Makes me feel a wee bit proud that one wee kiss does that to ye!”
His eyes grew wide before narrowing to slits.
“Do no’ fash over it, husband,” she told him as she placed a sweet kiss on his lips. “Yer kisses have the same effect on me!”
Placing an arm under her knees, he stood to his feet. Aggie squealed with delight as he headed toward the bed. “I do no’ believe ye,” he said playfully.
“Well, then, I reckon ye’ll have keep kissin’ me to find out fer yerself!” she giggled impishly.
“I intend to, lass. I intend to.”
Forty-One
FREDERICK HAD SENT Ian and Findal to bring Clair to his study. Fearing the woman would refuse to meet with him if she knew Aggie was there, he made certain she was not aware of that fact. Feeling he was unable to trust the woman, he asked Ian, Findal and Eggar to join them.
Clair looked positively startled when she walked into Frederick’s office and saw Eggar standing near the fireplace and Aggie sitting next to Frederick’s desk. She quickly hid her surprise behind feigned repentance.
Frederick motioned for her to take the seat next to Aggie. Clair kept her eyes glued to the floor as she took her seat, behaving as if she were genuflecting to the king himself. Frederick didn’t believe for a moment that she felt herself anything but above every person in the room.
“Clair,” Frederick said as he took his seat behind the desk. “I’d like to speak to ye about the comb and necklace Aggie gave ye for allowin’ her to wear yer blue dress for our weddin’.”
Clair looked up at him, her confusion plainly evident.
“I’d like ye to give those things back to Aggie,” Frederick said as he folded his hands together and rested them atop his desk.
“But ’twas a fair trade,” Clair said in a low voice.
“Nay, it was no’,” Frederick said. “Had ye allowed her to keep the dress or allowed her to make adjustments so that it fit her properly, then I might agree with ye.”
Clair remained silent as she stared directly into Frederick’s eyes. Unflinchingly, he stared back.
“Verra well,” she said after a time. “I’ll return them. But I dunna think it be fair that I have to.”
“But Clair,” Aggie said, breaking her silence. “Those things are of no value to anyone but me. Ye couldna get a pence for the both of them.”
Clair refused to look at her.
“Will that be all, m’laird,” Clair said, pretending she hadn’t heard Aggie.
Frederick shook his head. “I’d like to ken why ye have such a strong dislike of Aggie. Were the two of ye no’ good friends at one time?”
Something akin to sheer hatred flashed in Clair’s eyes before a veil of feigned boredom fell across her face.
“Ye were friends once, Clair. Would you no like to make amends with her?” Frederick pushed.
She pursed her lips together as if she found his line of questioning distasteful. “I doubt verra much she’d be willin’ to accept me apologies,” she said unashamedly.
Aggie turned in her chair to face her. “That is no’ true, Clair.”
Clair continued to ignore Aggie. Frederick could feel the animosity this woman had toward his wife.
“Clair,” Aggie began. “We were friends, long ago. I do no’ ken what I did to make ye hate me so. If I did somethin’ to hurt ye, to bring about this anger and contempt ye have for me, I am truly sorry.”
Frederick hadn’t expected his wife to take the first step in an attempt to mend an old friendship. Silently, he wondered if a day would ever go by where she did not surprise him or make him proud.
“If ye would but tell me why, mayhap we can fix this, Clair. I’m certainly willin’ to try.”
Clair spun in her seat to face Aggie. There was no denying the vehemence or anger she was feeling at the moment. Eggar, Findal and Ian each took a protective step forward. Frederick stood abruptly for he was not so certain that Clair wouldn’t lash out physically.
“Are ye truly willin’ to sit there and pretend ye do no’ ken?”
Aggie’s eyes widened with surprise. Clearly, she had no idea what Clair spoke of. “Clair, truly, I do no’ ken.”
Clair huffed indignantly. “Mermadak told me ye’d pretend ignorance on the matter.”
Aggie’s brow knitted into a line of confusion. “I truly do no’ ken what ye are referrin’ to. Mermadak McLaren be a liar of the worst sort, Clair—”
Clair stood up so abruptly that she knocked her chair over. “Do no’ speak ill of him!” Clair seethed. “He’s a sick auld man!” Realizing she was yelling, she stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s simply misunderstood.”
There was not a person in the room who did not look at Clair in stunned amazement.
“Misunderstood?” Aggie asked as she slowly stood up. “Pray tell, Clair, how did I misunderstand him? What message was he tryin’ to send me when he beat me with a stick, or a belt, or his cut-through? Pray tell, what message are the scars on me body supposed to represent? All those times he threatened to beat me to death, was that just his way of sayin’ he loved me?” Aggie’s hands balled into fists at her sides as she took one step toward Clair. “When he forced me into muteness because he said the sound of me voice made his ears bleed, what message was behind that? When he locked me away in me rooms, with only water and bread for days at a time, what did that mean? When he labeled me an eejit, a fool, a whore, a mongrel, were those merely words of endearment? Please, Clair, explain it to me so that I can finally understand this auld, sick, poor man!”
Frederick came around the desk and placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. He hadn’t known about the beatings with sticks, or that she had been locked away in her room for days at a time, nor had he known about the words Mermadak had used to describe his only daughter. The knowledge sickened him and made his heart ache for his wife.
Clair’s anger began to subside as she studied Aggie. “Ye truly do no’ ken, do ye?”
Aggie threw her hands in the air as if to say she surrendered. “Nay, I do no’ ken!”
Slowly, Clair righted her chair and sat in it. She swiped away an errant tear, cleared her throat and began to explain. “He said he told ye and that ye had disowned me and wanted nothin’ to do with me. I believed him.”
Aggie took her seat and faced Clair. “I’ve never disowned ye, Clair. And what, was he to have told me that would make me do such a thing?”
“He said he couldna tell the world, ye ken, but that he did tell ye. He said ye were so enraged, so ang
ry that ye wanted nothin’ to do with me ever again.”
Frederick stood by his wife, with his hand on her shoulder as they waited patiently for Clair to get to the heart of the matter.
“Ye see, me mum and Mermadak,” Clair paused, searching for the right words. “Well, they were friends, ye see. Verra good friends.”
The point that Clair was attempting to make was lost on Aggie. Frederick could sense that while he understood where Clair was going, Aggie was unable to fully grasp it.
“CLAIR, I DO no’ understand what ye mean,” Aggie said.
Clair sighed with frustration. “They were lovers, Aggie, fer nearly fifteen years.”
Aggie was taken aback by this news. According to her father, he had never strayed, had always remained faithful to her mother. How many times over the years had she heard him say those very words?
“Clair,” Aggie said breathlessly. “Why on earth would I hold what me father did against ye? ’Tis his sin, no’ yers.”
Clair eyed Aggie suspiciously for a moment. “So ye would claim me as yer sister then?”
Aggie could not have hid her surprise if a sword had been placed at her throat. “What?” she asked incredulously.
Clair nodded her head. “Aye. Yer sister. I be Mermadak’s daughter.”
’Twas a good thing Frederick stood next to her, for were he not, she would have fallen over. Blood pounded in her ears from the shock of learning that Clair was her sister. “This canna be,” Aggie said disbelievingly.
Clair huffed again. “I knew ye wouldna believe me!”
Aggie shook her head and gave a wave of her hand. “Nay, I, I believe ye, Clair. ’Tis just a shock is all.”
“Bah!” Clair cried. “Ye may believe me, but ye’d never claim me as yer sister.”
Frederick interjected his own thoughts on the matter. “Clair, do no’ assume Aggie would no claim ye. That is no’ fair. She’s only just learnin’ this, as we all are.”
Clair crossed her arms over her chest and snorted rather indignantly.
“Clair, if ye believed Aggie was yer sister, why did ye treat her so poorly?”
“Because Mermadak said she hated me!” she explained, as if that made all the sense in the world.
Frederick shook his head in disbelief. “Was Aggie ever mean to ye? Did she ever call ye names? Treat ye unkindly or unjustly?”
His question gave Clair pause. She gave a slight shake of her head.
“’Tis as I thought. Ye assumed the worst without any proof. Ye took the word of a cruel, unjust man.”
“That man is me father,” Clair reminded him.
“Aye, yer da by blood. But did he ever claim ye?”
“He could no’ do that, no’ while Lila was still alive. Me mother would no’ let him.”
“And after Lila’s death?” Frederick asked with a raised brow.
“He was protectin’ me and me mum,” Clair explained. “He didna want me mum’s reputation spoiled, even after her death.”
Somehow, Frederick doubted Mermadak had any concern at all for the reputation of either woman. His gut told him there was much more to this story than what Clair was telling them. Quite possibly even more than she knew.
Treading very lightly, Frederick chose his next words very carefully. “I will no’ speak for Aggie on this, Clair. But pray tell, if Aggie accepts ye as her sister, what will ye do then? Will ye still treat her unkindly and with disrespect?”
Clair blinked and balked at his question. Her reluctance told him much. It did not matter what Aggie did or didn’t do. Aggie could shout to the entire world that Clair was her sister and it would not matter at all. Clair would still be the same vindictive and cold woman she had always been.
Eggar stepped forward to stand next to his wife. “Clair, why did ye no’ tell me all of this?”
“Mermadak would no’ allow me to tell anyone. I had to respect his wishes.”
Eggar looked deflated. From his expression, Frederick surmised he was thinking along the same lines as he was; Clair held Mermadak in the highest regard, above all others, even though he was a cruel, disgusting man.
“Eggar,” Frederick said. “Mayhap ye should take yer wife home.”
Eggar nodded his head in agreement. Clair stood and rushed out of the room as if her skirt was on fire. Eggar hung his head in shame as he followed his wife out.
Once the door was closed, Frederick turned his attention to his wife. She sat silent, a look of utter shock and disbelief washed across her face.
“Aggie, how fare ye?” he asked as he knelt beside her.
She took a deep breath before answering. “I do no’ ken yet.”
He imagined it would take some time for his wife to get accustomed to the idea that the woman who had been the cause of so much of her pain was, in fact, her half-blooded sister. He wondered if she could ever get used to the idea.
Forty-Two
IT HAD BEEN weeks since anyone had heard a word or laid eyes upon Mermadak. Frederick had sent men out in hopes of finding the man’s whereabouts, or to learn if death had finally claimed him. His men returned empty handed. Wherever he was, he was well hidden, as were the men he had taken with him.
That news did not bode well with Frederick. As long as Mermadak McLaren lived, he was still a threat to Aggie and all the McLaren Clan. Until Frederick knew for certain that the man was dead and duly buried, he’d not rest well.
Autumn was finally upon them and he still had not received a reply from his father regarding Frederick’s request for aid to help them through the upcoming winter. Though they had managed to fix the leaky roof and were building up their meat supplies, they were still seriously low on grain. Frederick did not know how they would make it through the winter without it.
He sat at his desk in his study, going over their inventory. The lack of supplies worried him and made his head throb.
Aggie entered his office bearing a tray of food for him. “Ye work too hard, husband,” she told him as she set the tray on his desk. She gave him a peck on his cheek and rested a hand on his shoulder.
Fish, a small chunk of bread, a few nibbles of cheese and an apple. Prisoners of war eat better fare than this, he thought. He kept his opinion to himself. “Thank ye, kindly,” he said with a heavy sigh.
“We’ll get through this,” Aggie told him.
He let loose another frustrated sigh. “I do no’ ken how. We’ve barely enough grain to see us through the next month, let alone the winter. We have nothin’ left to sell or bargain with save for six pigs and a few dozen chickens.”
“Which we may have to eat come winter,” Aggie offered. “And the low supply of firewood, do no’ ferget to fret on that while yer at it.”
He glanced up at her and shook his head. “Make fun of me if ye must, wife, but I fear things will no’ seem so amusin’ come winter when we’re starvin’ and freezin’ our feet off.”
“Oh, we’ll no’ freeze, Frederick. We’ll stay abed and keep each other warm,” she told him playfully.
If he weren’t so truly worried about how they would survive through the winter, he would have enjoyed her remark. However, his heart was too heavy with worry.
Aggie placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And here I thought ye were the faithful one.”
Frederick turned to face her, the question written on his face. Aggie smiled and kissed his forehead. “Mayhap God is simply testin’ yer faith.”
The statement was simple yet profound. Mayhap these trying times were simply a test of his faith or endurance. Many times he had told people not to worry over much for God had a plan. Mayhap now was the time to practice what he had preached.
“So the lass who doesna believe in God is tellin’ me to have faith?” he shook his head and whistled.
“I never said I didna believe in God. I merely said he didna have time fer the likes of me,” she reminded him. “Now, I see I was wrong.”
Frederick raised a brow and cocked his head to one side. “’Tis no’
often a man hears his wife admit to bein’ wrong on somethin’,” he teased.
Aggie rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. “If ye give up yer faith in Him, Frederick,” her voice turned serious, as did her expression. “’Twill make me question mine and I do no’ wish to do that. I ken that one way or another, we will survive this winter. We will get through. Aye, we may have to sacrifice and go without fer a time, ration everythin’, but in the end, all will be well. I believe in ye, Frederick.”
Frederick was suddenly possessed with an overwhelming urge to lift her skirts and make love to her on the top of his desk. Apparently, and previously unbeknownst to himself, hearing his wife say I believe in ye had the same effect on his manhood as if she had stripped herself bare and purred Take me, husband.
The image of his wife splayed across his desk, her hair spilling all around it, and the glorious look of desire and bliss as she called out his name made his head swim. He swallowed and fought hard against doing just that. He no longer wondered how she was able to have such an effect on his person, without so much as casting a flirtatious wink his way.
“Are ye well, husband?” Aggie asked. Her voice was laced with concern.
He cleared his throat once before nodding. Reckoning it wasn’t a full out lie, for he hadn’t uttered a word, he tried to think of something that would make his nearly irrepressible desire to join with his wife then and there, leave him.
“Are ye certain?” she asked again, a frown forming on her lips. “Ye do no’ look well at all.”
He was comforted by the fact that she was still learning to read his moods and as yet, could not necessarily read his mind. Still, he wondered what she would think or how she might respond were he to make the suggestion.
Aggie reached out and placed the back of her hand across his forehead. “Ye feel warm, but no’ feverish,” she said as she next placed the hand on his cheek.
Frederick closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. She smelled of marigold soap and bread. He found it nearly as intoxicating as whisky. He was about to pull her into his lap and whisper an idea into her ear when a knock came to the door.
Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series Page 43