She was still smiling when he pressed his entry home.
******
The elders tired of the wait so Raibert walked back down the hallway, intending to knock at the door. The guards smiled with admiration and refused to allow the elder near the door.
“What keeps him?” Raibert asked testily.
Sounds from within drifted to the hallway, a low male laugh followed by a female moaning and saying, “Now right now.”
One of the guards said, “To a man, the warriors of both clans have ever increasing admiration for the laird’s stamina. We also fear that our own wives may try to measure us by his standards.”
The other warrior agreed. “All the men will have to go to the healer for supplements and potions to be sure that we measure up.”
Old Raibert turned testily and bade the warriors to remind the laird that he was needed downstairs as soon as he had finished “tending the need upstairs.” He then rejoined the clan and all shook their heads in amazement when he explained the delay. As they waited downstairs, several grumbled that “this marriage might not be such a good thing after all” because none had expected that the laird would be so taken with the lady that he neglected business. No lady came before the clan.
******
More than an hour later, a contented Nial made his way downstairs. He joined the elders in the large chamber adjacent to the courtyard to hear petitions. There were two men who wanted the hand of the same woman in marriage, and in view of his new knowledge of matters of the heart, the case caught his attention.
Prosperous and able warriors, both men brought important skills in battle. They stood arguing about who should have the “right” to the woman who stood between the pair with downcast eyes, showing no preference. Nial glanced over the gathering, and saw one of the younger warriors being restrained by an older veteran. He recognized the angry young warrior as Brian and called him forward, surprising the parties before him and those in the audience.
He watched Cait, the maiden. She showed no reaction to the verbal combat of the two warriors who fought for her hand, but the young and comely Brian received a smile lit with the deep glow Nial recognized as passion. So he gave each warrior a command. “Explain why you want to marry Cait.” Each argued that his contributions entitled him to the woman and that there were many reasons why the other should not have her.
When they finished, Nial turned to Brian. “I saw anger on your face as these two verbally jousted over their entitlement to the lass. Do you wish to make a claim to this woman?”
The young warrior glanced back to his comrades who hissed “noo” and “have a care for your future man.” Brian clenched his hands, and shook his head to deny a claim, until Cait placed a hand on his arm and he met her eyes. His words came straight from his heart as he stared into the eyes sparkling up at him. “Laird, I know that I can not claim to have spent the years battling for the clan that these two have. My need for her does not come from what I think is due me, for I admit that what is due me is less than that due these men. My need for Cait is that I love her and can not imagine life without her. I believe that she feels the same.”
The warriors scoffed. Laird Nial would hardly consider such a paltry emotional issue when deciding the future of the clan. Their first surprise came when the laird turned to the lass.
“Cait. Look at me,” he instructed. She did and her dark brown eyes held barely restrained tears. Nial smiled then and gently said, “You have not stated a position lady. What would your choice be and why?”
At first she couldn’t speak for her tears. The older warriors crossed their arms and glared at her in demand. Brian took out his handkerchief and crossed to murmur soothing words and wipe away the tears with a tender touch. She spoke then, saying, “Laird Nial, my parents have cautioned me to look to finances and the power of the two older warriors. But that is not what is in my heart. I love Brian and would trade all the power and security that there is for just a score of nights as his wife."
Nial smiled as both young people looked at him with eyes that contained no hope. The laird would look to the future of the clan and weighed against that, two paltry hearts just wouldn’t measure up. His words astonished the entire gathering.
“Had this matter come before me six months ago, I’d have ordered a challenge combat between my two senior warriors for the hand of this lovely lady. Brian and Cait may thank the faeries that I am not the man I was such a short time ago. Today, I have all confidence that the love these two young people bear for each other will make a fine marriage. I am also certain that this marriage will guarantee the loyalty and commitment of both to the Clan Maclee. Go and seek the priest and say the vows and fear no retribution from the elder warriors.”
Brian grabbed Cait’s hand and with happy smiles, they ran out of the room. Nial watched them go and saw the lad place a hand on the lady’s rear and speculated that the trip to the priest might be delayed for a few moments. Then he summoned the unhappy older warriors to him. His words and his criticism were harsh.
“I am displeased with both of you. Your words were of rights and entitlement and neither of you bore love for the lady. You would have created lives of misery for each other, the young lady, Brian and his future wife, and all of the children you all would bear. Do not return to me to petition for the hand of a young lady until you can look me in the eye and assure me that the one thing you bring to the union is the love in your heart that will have her and no other. If I hear of mischief or discord for the young people or their families, you will be punished with the full might of my power. Do you understand?”
The two shifted their eyes and tried to pass of nods as agreement, but Nial repeated his question. “Do you understand?”
Both reluctantly met his eyes and said “Yes, Laird,” before they fled his presence, likely to seek joint comfort from some whiskey.
Nial heard a barely stifled sob and saw that Heather had entered without his notice. Her eyes conveyed her approval of his judgment. They spoke loudly of her love and her support, and his smile excluded the rest of the crowded room.
Then Hugh stepped forward, with three couples beside him. “Laird, I would now bring before you a matter of some delicacy. Sorcha’s former cottage is closer to the castle and larger than that of these couples who would claim it. We have held it closed until your return and your decision. What say you?”
Nial saw Heather turn to leave the room. They had not reached their present union to allow that woman’s evil to diminish it. He stood and called to her.
“Heather, my love,” he said, ignoring gasps from the roomful of people who were astonished that their laird showed affection so openly. “Please join me.”
She wanted to argue, but could not challenge him when he sat as Laird Maclee. So she reluctantly came forward, stopping a few feet away from where he sat. He would have none of that. The love he bore her was so immense and overpowering that he suspected his clan would have to accustom themselves to some quite public displays of affection. He may as well start as he would continue. With the latter thought, he pulled Heather’s hand and continued to pull until she nestled in his lap.
She was a Highland lass, and was herself surprised that he would show his affection before others while he sat as the Maclee.
“Nial?” She asked quietly, for his ears alone.
He responded by tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. His gaze was open and filled with love for her that he made no effort to conceal or disguise. He feathered his fingers over her lips and smiled when hers helplessly parted.
“Nothing and no one will come between us. Her name will come up now and again and when it does, I ask that you remember the foolish idiot who nearly threw away everything he had sought his entire life. I also ask that you recall your generosity in allowing him a second chance. Perhaps you can teach our children the merits of second chances,” he said. She could not speak past the ball of emotion in her throat and merely nodded.
It was enough for
he turned to the others who shifted uncomfortably and tried to look anywhere in the room but at him and the lady he held on his lap. He laughed heartily at their unease. “I recommend that you get used to such behavior. Now tell me of each of the families who would claim the cottage.”
Hugh spoke well of each couple, and the first two met his eyes easily. The third couple was different. Heavily burdened with child, the lady held the hand of a toddler. Brighde met his eyes easily. Her husband, Uilleam, was a brawny warrior who had been much admired by the young ladies before his marriage. Nial recalled attending the wedding and suddenly remembered seeing the witch there. Sorcha’s eyes had measured the groom with sensual intent that bespoke her familiarity, which she didn’t bother to hide. When Uilleam left to seek privacy in the forest, the black widow followed. That event stuck in his mind because she had been pulling down the top of her gown to reveal her breasts before the trees hid her. She glanced directly at Nial then, knowing he watched as she played with herself and she winked. With shame, he remembered that he had envied the young bridegroom the attentions of the widow on the eve of his wedding to the virtuous maiden. “A frolic with the forbidden before seeking tamer pastures,” he recalled thinking.
He called to the other man, “Uilleam?” The man’s eyes snapped to his. A look of male understanding passed between them. Nial knew that Uilleam had betrayed his marital vows with Sorcha and carried that as the largest regret of his life.
Obtaining vengeance beyond the grave generally presents an impossible challenge, but sometimes fate is partial to second chances. Nial awarded the house to Uilleam and his wife without verbal explanation but the man’s gaze said he knew why the laird had given his family the boon.
Nial motioned Heather up and stood beside her. He was reminded how bright his lady was when she placed a hand on his chest to stop him and leaned over to whisper, “He was with her wasn’t he?”
Nial nodded.
“After his marriage?” She asked pointedly.
Nial nodded again. “I think so.”
“Just remember that you have already had your second chance.”
“I need no more chances, love. In the entire history of my clan, a Maclee laird fortunate enough to find his fated forever has never strayed. I shall not be the first.”
******
She stood and measured his intent a moment longer before conceding the truth of his words and allowing him to take her arm to lead her to the dinner table. He seated her beside him and his thoughts drifted as the fare was passed. She conversed with her mother as he spoke to Boz and Carrick of how long three days could seem when a man was in a hurry. Boz teased him by saying how strange his sudden impatience was and relating tales, clean ones, of Nial’s abundant patience in the past.
Laughter and camaraderie abounded and Nial’s attention was distracted. He nearly missed the movement when a young maid brought a dish to Heather.
Bonnie said, “Heather. In honor of your homecoming I had the cook prepare for you a dish of your favorite pudding.”
Heather took the dish and would have raised a bite to her lips but Nial quickly laid his hand on top of hers to restrain her as he turned to Lady MacIver and asked, “This dish was made for Heather alone?”
Bonnie took offense to the question. “A mother is allowed to spoil her only child a little, Laird Maclee.”
Nial’s eyes hardened, as he repeated his question. “This dish was made for Heather alone?”
Exasperated, Bonnie nearly shouted, “Yes, it was made for her alone, but I’m sure she would share it with you.”
Heather was nodding puzzled agreement when Nial tore the dish from her hands and threw it at the fireplace, where it shattered on the hearth. Complete silence fell over the room, and only Boz’s expression held understanding. The others wondered if this was further evidence that their laird had taken leave of his senses.
As the room lay cloaked in silence one of the hounds walked over to sniff at the dish. The dog began eating eagerly but as it finished, it started choking and gasping for breath and fell over. The healer, Mac, made a quick check, looked up and said, “The dog is dead, laird.”
Bonnie’s hands shook so violently that she dropped her glass and it shattered on the floor. Nial picked Heather up from the table as though she was too frail to walk upstairs on her own. He stopped and turned to the gathering. “I want a full investigation. Question everyone who was near the kitchen today. Use torture if you must. I will know who would hurt my lady.”
The laird’s quick exit from the room with Heather caught most of the glances. Carrick’s was focused on the duke. “How did you know, son?”
“The bloody Sedgewick sixth sense is a lot like my cousin’s dealings with the faeries. Part curse and part blessing, but it is ignored at the greatest peril. It is never wrong.”
The Scot suddenly had a newfound respect for the English duke – and his sixth sense.
The episode had a profound effect upon Nial who refused to allow Heather out of his sight, and usually kept her under his arm. He even insisted upon accompanying her to the privy. When the elders protested the need to discuss clan business, “without a woman present,” Nial advised that the business would either wait or be conducted with Heather there. Several matters had grown urgent over his absence and couldn’t wait but the lass found the long meetings boring.
Bonnie tried to take her out of one of the meetings on a rare occasion when Heather was sitting a few feet away from Nial. The pair was tiptoeing towards the door of the room when the laird bounded up in the midst of a complicated financial analysis by one of the elders and jumped in front of them.
Exasperated, Lady MacIver said, “Surely you know that my daughter is safe with me.”
The laird would not be moved. “She remains with me. Apparently I have not been keeping her close enough. That will change now.”
It did change. After that moment Heather was always within the curve of Nial’s arm or attached to his hand. He kept her there and even tolerated the lengthy wedding discussions among the women. Not one of the other men would endure the discussions, but Nial was firm. Where Heather was, so would he be.
It wasn’t long before the clan elders began saying, “Enough is enough.”
The morning after the attempted poisoning a maid carried a breakfast tray up to the laird’s room. She barely set it down before the laird bounded out of bed, naked, and grabbed the girl’s arm to besiege her with questions. “Who prepared this food? Did you see them fix it? Who was in the kitchen while the food was prepared?” The girl began to stammer and cry that she just brought the tray.
Nial forced it back into her hands and demanded that she take it away. After the girl left, Heather protested that she was hungry and he got out of bed, dressed and said that he would “Take care of it personally.” She wasn’t sure what that meant, but when some time passed without food arriving, she dressed and went downstairs to find him – with one of the guards close by her side.
None on the first floor had seen him, and she wandered through each room until she came to the kitchen. The first thing she saw when she opened the door was a basket of apples sitting on the table. By now she was starving, so she grabbed one and had it lifted to her mouth to bite when Nial appeared, jerked it out of her hands and threw it across the room, nearly striking two members of the kitchen staff in the process.
She tried to keep from giggling as he ranted to her about the danger of eating an apple. She was largely successful until she got a good look at him. He was wearing an apron and wielding a wooden spoon that he waived about randomly.
“What on earth?”
The head cook’s booming voice called across the kitchen, “Laird, this batch of eggs is about to get burnt like the others. If they does you’ll have to go back to the hens and start all over again.”
About ten minutes later, he barked at her to get“What?” Heather asked as Nial cursed and ran over to the wood stove. The laird of the clan was cooking what might have
been scrambled eggs. It smelled like bread was burning somewhere in the room. He refused to stop to answer her questions. The kitchen door opened. Nial didn’t glance around, but Heather looked back to see her father and two of the elders bearing nearly identical looks of astonishment.
About ten minutes later, he barked at her to get in a chair. It didn’t seem to be a good time to argue, so she complied. Nial’s face bore a look of pride as he carried over a platter of incinerated eggs and bread of some sort that still smoldered. He placed a mug of juice in front of her. She glanced into it suspiciously and saw large pieces of pulp and seeds floating around. He barked at her to “Eat” as he sat down with similar food and drink before him.
Pulp, seeds and all, it was only by taking large swigs of the liquid that she was able to get down a single bite of the food. He had clearly prepared every single item himself, and she loved him to distraction, so at his anxious inquiry she was able to look him squarely in the eye and tell the biggest lie of her life. She said, “It’s wonderful, sweetheart. Just delicious.” She even took another bite to emphasize her point.
The elders and the MacIver could keep silent no longer and rushed to the table. Carrick tried very hard not to take offense when Nial reacted to their presence like they were intruders bearing weapons. He leapt up from his chair and stood behind Heather with one arm wrapped around her. His other hand pushed aside the skirt of the apron to rest on the hilt of his sword.
There stood the proud laird of the Clan Maclee, hovering over his daughter like an anxious mother hen. All three approached gingerly, with raised hands to indicate that they were no threat. Carrick mumbled to the men with him that he thought the food his daughter was being forced to eat was more apt to kill her than any poison he knew of.
“Nial,” MacIver asked carefully, “what is the meaning of this?”
Maclee looked at him like he was a prize idiot. “Until the threat passes, Heather will only eat the food that I prepare.”
A Faerie Fated Forever Page 26