“Och! I didna ken ye had a sister,” Elsbeth said as she smiled toward Clair. “And what a pretty thing she be.”
Clair’s reaction surprised Aggie when she watched Clair’s face flush with embarrassment. Mayhap Clair was not so cold after all.
“’Tis a pleasure to meet ye both,” Elsbeth remarked as she continued to smile. “We welcome ye to our family.”
“Thank ye, m’lady,” Eggar said with a bow. “And we welcome ye to ours.”
Eggar was genuinely warm with his welcome. Clair continued to glance about the gathering room and looked ill at ease. Was it simply nerves at being in the presence of all these Mackintoshes that caused Clair to act oddly? Aggie was not certain, but something about how Clair was behaving gave Aggie pause. Tomorrow, she decided, she would make every attempt to speak with Clair.
VENISON, BEEF, PHEASANT and fish, bread and fine cheese, fruits and all manner of vegetables were served. Along with plenty of good wine, ale, sweet cakes and desserts. More food than Aggie could count and some of it she couldn’t even recognize for she had never had such fare set at a McLaren table before.
“When the Mackintoshes feast,” John explained to Aggie as he devoured a slab of venison, “They feast.”
Aggie didn’t think the Mackintoshes did anything in a small way. They seemed to be an all or nothing kind of people. Nothing, not even eating, was done in small fashion. Aggie found she rather adored John and Elsbeth. They tended to say whatever was on their mind.
“Aggie—I mean, mum,” Ailrig said from his seat next to Aggie. “I’ve never ate so good! Did ye try the pheasant?”
Aggie smiled warmly. “Aye, I did.”
“And the fish, the salmon. That was right good!”
Aggie ran her hand over the top of his head. “Careful ye do no’ overeat, Ailrig.”
Ailrig nodded, but did not heed her warning. He grabbed another sweet cake from the tray. “Will we eat like this every night now?”
Aggie shook her head. “Nay, this be a special occasion. We’re celebrating the visit of Frederick’s parents and their fine men who brought us the supplies we needed.”
“Grandda John is funny!” Ailrig said with a smile. “He’s verra nice and said I could call him Grandda. ’Tis all right that I do that, isn’t it?” he asked with a most serious expression.
“Aye,” Aggie said. “If he asked ye to, then ye should.”
Ailrig stopped eating for a moment and Aggie could tell that he was thinking on something. “What be the matter, Ailrig?”
“Nothin’,” he said as he took a sip of cider. “I just never thought I’d have a mum or a da, and now I do. And I have uncles and aunts and grandparents. ’Tis strange is all.”
Aggie’s brow furrowed. “Why is it ye do no’ seem so happy about all of that?” she asked.
“Och! I am happy!” he exclaimed. “I just find it strange is all. I knew Mermadak me whole life, and when ye adopted me, he wouldna let me call him Grandsire or Grandda. But Frederick’s da told me to call him that the moment I met him.”
The mention of Mermadak’s name brought a surge of ugly memories. Ailrig was keenly aware of the differences between John and Mermadak. John Mackintosh was a big, braw man. But the differences did not end at outward appearances. Nay, John Mackintosh was an honorable, kind, just man. It took no great mind to surmise that Frederick had learned from his father how to be many things. Father, husband, chief, but so much more.
Suddenly, Aggie felt the overwhelming urge to cry. Not tears of remorse or regret, but happy, delightful tears. Not only had she gained the family she had always longed for, but now, her son was blessed with it as well. Were in not for Frederick Mackintosh, she never would have been able to give her son the most precious gift of all; a loving family.
“Aggie,” Elsbeth said, drawing Aggie’s attention away from Ailrig. “Are ye well?”
Aggie removed a handkerchief from the sleeve of her dress and dabbed at her eyes. “Aye, I am.”
Elsbeth expression said she did not for a minute believe her.
“I’m just verra happy, Elsbeth.”
Elsbeth lifted Ailrig up, took his seat, and placed him on her lap. “With a wee one like this lad, ye should be happy,” she said playfully. Ailrig smiled up at her. “Yer pretty,” he said.
Elsbeth laughed and gave him a hug. “Ye’ve been spendin’ too much time with Ian. He’s teachin’ ye how to flatter the lasses.” She sat him on his feet. “Why don’t ye go sit with yer da fer a spell, Ailrig. And tell yer Grandda I said to give ye another sweet cake.”
The boy did not need to be encouraged to do either of those things. Elsbeth waited until he was happily sitting with his father and grandsire before she leaned in to speak with Aggie.
“Lass, tell me, what makes ye so happy that ye feel the need to cry?”
Aggie dabbed at her eyes again. “’Tis such a long, ugly story, Elsbeth. I do no’ wish to spoil this night with the tellin’ of it. I will tell ye, that I’ve no’ ever experienced a family like yers. Ye’ve done nothin’ but make me feel welcomed into it. Yer son, he’s been verra good to me, and to Ailrig. And now, ye and John are doin’ the same. I be no’ accustomed to such kindness.”
Elsbeth smiled fondly at Aggie. “Well, ye have me to thank fer that.”
Aggie looked puzzled by her statement, which in turn caused Elsbeth to laugh. “Frederick has no’ told ye how I came to be his stepmother, has he?”
Frederick turned when he heard his name mentioned. “Elsbeth, please, do no’ tell that story!”
She pretended she hadn’t heard his weak protest. “Well, ye see, I was just a lass of eight and ten. John’s second wife had been gone fer some three years, ye ken. Och! His children ran wild!”
“We were no’ that bad,” Frederick protested.
“Bah!” John chimed in. “Ye were all hellions!”
Frederick shook his head and draped an arm over Aggie’s shoulder. “Do no’ listen to a word this woman tells ye. We were the most well behaved children in all of Scotland.”
“Ye’ll burn in hell fer tellin’ such lies,” Elsbeth told him with a smile. She turned back to Aggie. “Well, John had sworn he’d never marry again, after losing Murielle. He loved her verra much, ye see.”
Frederick gave Aggie’s shoulder a gentle squeeze while they listened to Elsbeth tell the story.
“Well, he was so heartbroken, and a wee overwhelmed at having nine children – the youngest bein’ just three at the time—and no wife to help him. And he had been made chief not long before we met. He was stretched verra thin. I think he thought the older children would look after the younger. But the older children were six of the most wretched lads ye have ever laid eyes upon!”
Aggie turned to look up at her husband. He was smiling rather devilishly at his stepmother’s description. He glanced at Aggie. “Lies, I tell ye, all lies.”
Elsbeth gave him a look that warned he should hold his tongue. “They were always gettin’ into trouble. They started stealin’ from me garden, a few carrots, a few leeks, nothin’ that deserved ‘em hangin’. This went on for weeks. I do no’ ken if they were doin’ it to make me angry or if it was a cry that their da wasna feedin’ them proper, so I ignored them. Well, one morn, I woke and went out to tend our animals. And what do you think I found?”
Aggie shook her head and leaned forward, her attention focused solely on Elsbeth. Her curiosity was piqued. “What? What did ye find? Did they let yer animals loose?”
Elsbeth shook her head. “Nay, ’twas far worse than that. They had stolen dye from somewhere and they dyed all me sheep different colors!”
Frederick and his father broke out into a fit of laughter. Elsbeth pretended she was not amused, but Aggie could see a distinct twinkle in the woman’s eyes. “I had red sheep, blue, goldenrod, green, purple! Och, any color ye could think of, they had dyed these poor sheep. Dozens of them, just a week from being shorn, and they’re every color under the rainbow!”
�
��What did ye do?” Aggie asked breathlessly.
“I caught three of the little heathens, Frederick and his older brothers Edmond and James. I tied a rope around them and marched them up to the main keep. I stormed into John’s study, with the lads in tow.”
John laughed at the memory. “Aye, that was a sight, I tell ye. I never saw a woman so mad in all me days! And me lads? They were shakin’ in their boots!”
“And that is how ye met?” Aggie asked.
“Aye,” Elsbeth answered. “I knew well who John was, of course, but he never gave me a second glance. He was far too busy ye ken. Well, I told him that day, ‘John Mackintosh! Yer raisin’ heathens and hellions. Ye either hire someone to watch over these children of yers’—I believe I recommended a prison guard—‘Or ye find yerself a wife to do it!’ Well, John looked me up and down and without blinkin’ an eye, said, ‘Do ye want the job?’ Well, I naturally had to ask which job – guard or wife. And naturally, John bein’ the man that he is said, ‘wife.’”
“And the lass looked me up and down, fell instantly and madly in love with me and said, ‘I’ll marry ye,’” John said with a fond, slightly devious, smile.
Elsbeth returned his fond smile. “And we were married the followin’ week.”
Aggie’s eyes were wide with amazement. “Ye jest!”
Elsbeth looked quite serious. “Nay, I do no’ jest.”
Aggie smiled and sat upright. “Ye truly fell in love at first sight?”
“Och! I didna say that!”
Frederick and John broke into another fit of raucous laughter. “Well, someone had to get those children in line,” Elsbeth said. “But, aye, I did eventually fall in love with the man. And his heathen children too!”
AFTER THEIR MEAL, the tables were cleared, raised or shoved against the walls. Instruments appeared seemingly from out of nowhere. A lute was placed in Frederick’s hand. “Sing fer us Frederick!” voices called out.
Frederick smiled and agreed to sing as long as Seamus and Andrew joined him. Neither young man argued and quickly took a spot on either side of Frederick. They conversed for a moment, came to an agreement on which song they should sing, and moments later, they began.
It was a lively tune, about a brave man named Collin Macfee, who liked to woo women, drink whisky, and get into brawls. The crowd enjoyed the song and cheered the three men to keep singing.
Aggie had never seen her husband so happy. It wasn’t that he had been sad or despondent these past months. He had been quite amicable and kind, was free with a laugh and a smile. But how he behaved this night, was different. He was genuinely happy to have his family here. Mayhap he had missed them all far more than he let on. Mayhap he was proud to show the Mackintoshes off to Aggie and her kin, and mayhap, vice versa.
There was a joy in her husband’s eyes, a deep and intense happiness that made those hazel eyes of his sparkle. And the smile hadn’t left his face since this morning. She knew he felt a tremendous amount of relief knowing they’d have enough supplies to get the through the winter. It was one less thing he had to worry over.
As the night wore on, the songs grew bawdier, louder, and the words—at least Frederick’s—were a bit slurred. Laughter rung throughout the night, clapping, dancing, and much merriment. Aggie could not remember a time when their gathering room had been filled with such joy and happiness. It made her heart swell with more love and pride toward her husband. Though she was bone tired, she did not want the night to end.
Ailrig enjoyed himself as much as Aggie. But being just nine, his determination to stay up far past his usual bedtime finally wavered around the midnight hour. He fell asleep with his head on Aggie’s lap as he listened to his father sing and play the lute.
Aye, she thought to herself as she tapped her toe in time with the music. This is the way it should always be.
Forty-Four
THE FEAST LASTED until just before dawn. Aggie had taken Ailrig above stairs hours before, and then found she had to help her very happy, and very intoxicated husband above stairs as well. Rose tended to Ian, and Elsbeth to her own husband. Each man sang all the way to his bed.
Frederick did not rouse until long after the noonin’ meal. He did not wake in his typical amorous fashion. Instead, he woke with a thundering headache and an apology to his wife if, by chance, he had made a fool out of himself the night before.
“I have no’ drunk so much in an age, Aggie,” he told her as he held his throbbing head between his palms. “I hope I did no’ do anythin’ that ye feel a need to yell over, or beat me about the head. I fear much of the night is a blur now.”
Aggie smiled, handed him a cup of tea and kissed his forehead. “Nay, husband. Ye had a grand time, as did everyone else. And ye did nothin’ ye need to be ashamed of. Except, mayhap, the bawdy song about the bar wench named Anne.”
Frederick thanked her for her kindness and slowly sipped on the tea.
“’Tis a special herb I put in the tea fer ye, husband. It will help with yer poundin’ head and upset stomach. Ye’ll be right as rain soon enough.”
She started to walk away when Frederick reached for her hand. “Aggie,” he said softly. “Thank ye.”
“Fer the tea? Och, ’tis nothin’.”
He shook his head slightly. “Nay, no’ the tea—though I do thank ye for that as well. I want to thank ye fer makin’ me family feel so welcome. It made me heart proud to see ye take to them so quickly. Me da thinks yer a bonny young woman and he could no’ be more proud to call ye daughter. And I could no’ be more proud to call ye wife.” He kissed her wrist and rested his cheek against it. “Yer good fer me, Aggie.”
A large lump formed in her throat as tears threatened to fall. She said nothing, simply gave his hand a gentle squeeze before stepping away.
MOST OF THE men, and even a few of the women, suffered from the same morning ailment as Frederick. Pounding skulls and upset stomachs ran rampant throughout the keep. Aggie brewed more medicinal tea that afternoon than she had brewed in the past four years. The Mackintoshes seemed to be quite fond of their ale, wine, and whisky. Aggie suggested they avoid drinking any alcohol for a few days and to rest. Not one of them argued with her instructions.
Frederick woke Aggie before dawn the following morning, feeling much better than he had the previous day. By way of proof, he made slow, languid love to her where he kissed nearly every square inch of her body.
Taking his time, he began with her lips, cheeks, and neck. She smelled of sleep and the marigold soap she was so fond of using. Save for the scars on her back, her skin was as soft as silk and tasted sweeter than any jam or honey.
By the time he reached her toes, she was begging him to stop with his devilish teasing and he was nearly drunk from her scent. He took great pleasure in hearing her soft sighs and moans.
“I enjoy startin’ me day with ye, Aggie,” he said as he kissed her ankle and began making his way back up toward her face. “And I enjoy ending’ each day with ye.”
She sucked in a deep breath of air when he kissed the back of her shin. “If I were bigger than ye… ooh!” She bit her lip when he kissed the back of her knee.
“And what would ye do if ye were bigger than me?” he asked playfully as he nipped the back of her thigh.
“I’d do to ye what yer doin’ to me right now!” she said through gritted teeth and between soft moans. “Yer a cruel man, Frederick Mackintosh, to torture yer wee wife, oh, good lord, what are ye doin’?”
Aggie didn’t speak again until long after she collapsed against her husband’s chest. Sated, content, and quite happy.
“Do ye still think me a cruel man?” Frederick asked with a smile as he caressed her arm with his fingertips.
“Aye, I do,” she said with a contented sigh. “But no’ in a bad way, ye devil.”
Frederick chuckled at her compliment. “So ye did enjoy me cruel torture?”
Raising her head so that she could look at him, she smiled. “That be important to ye, aye?”
His brows furrowed. “Of course it be verra important to me. I could no’ get any enjoyment out of joinin’ with ye if ye were no’ enjoyin’ it as well.”
She rested her head against his chest, twirling the soft hair of his chest with her fingers. Until a few weeks ago, were anyone to have told her she would indeed find pleasure in joining with a man, she would have thought them insane. It continued to amaze her that she looked forward to and enjoyed these most intimate moments with her husband.
Frederick gave her a slight nudge. “Aggie,” Frederick said, his voice husky and filled with concern. “Do ye enjoy lovin’ with me?”
“Aye,” she answered softly. “I do. Verra much.”
“But?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulder. “It just surprises me that I do,” she told him. “’Tis a pleasure though, and one I be verra happy to become accustomed to.”
THE FOLLOWING WEEK flew by. Working from dawn to dusk, the visiting Mackintoshes helped to repair the outer wall of the keep. Large boulders and rocks were quarried from nearby, brought in by wagons drawn by massive Highland ponies.
Aggie stood on the north tower after tending to her herbs and watched as the men below hefted rocks and moved boulders. Their shouts and laughter carried on the wind like lively music. She was able to find her husband in the crowd of hard working men. Though it was autumn, he, like many of the other men, worked while wearing only trews and boots. When the sun chose to peek through the clouds, the sunlight bounced off his bronze skin, glistening over finely toned muscles.
If he weren’t already her husband, she knew in her heart she would have wished that he was. Not simply because he was a fine specimen of a man to look at. There was far more to Frederick than a handsome face and well-muscled body.
Aggie reflected on her life and the changes that had taken place in such a short amount of time. In only a few short months, she had married, gone from being a passive, mute individual to a woman who, though it was still not quite easy, one who spoke her mind. She had killed the man who had haunted her dreams and tormented her soul for more than a decade.
Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series Page 45