The Lass and the Laird

by Hildie McQueen

The pounding of horse hooves announced that, in all probability, the others came and, once again, she’d be taken prisoner and carted to wherever they went. Meredith shrieked and kicked at the man. He took her by the hair and slapped her so hard her teeth rattled. Darkness threatened and she fought it.

  To the very end. Her mind demanded. Keep fighting. She kicked at him, but missed and fell when he loosened his grip on her hair.

  Unable to get back up, sobs racked her injured body and she accepted defeat. Heartbroken, Meredith let go and allowed unconsciousness to draw her in.

  Chapter Eleven

  The pounding of the horse’s hooves on the ground echoed though his body. Declan leaned forward almost lying on the horse's back as they raced towards the small group that scrambled atop horses. He spotted one man with a burden over his shoulder. It was Meredith. Hands bound, her hair trailing past the man’s thighs, she was limp. Passed out or injured, but she was alive. If not, they’d not carry her, but leave her behind in their haste to escape.

  Determined not to allow them to get away, he pressed his mount faster. Aiden beside him did the same. After Aiden’s missive, they’d followed the markings the abductors left. They were obviously not familiar with the lands and had not traveled with much care, constantly stopping and leaving an easy trail to follow. They’d split upon spotting two riding without other companions, Dugan and Ian going after them in case they would lead them to Meredith. But he’d followed his instincts with her brother, feeling the larger party would most likely have her.

  Aiden had not explained the reason for what happened. It was evident his sister’s taking was not a coincidence.

  They were gaining ground now and Declan drew his sword. Two of the riders turned and faced them, weapons held high.

  The clash between them was short but bloody. The outlanders were rudimentary in their fighting, making up for their lack of skill with sheer brute force and determination. Declan’s opponent fell to the ground and he returned to the chase again, not waiting to see what happened with Aiden. Within seconds, Meredith‘s brother caught up. “They head toward Mackenzie lands. I trust they are stopped once sentries catch sight of them.” Aiden grunted and tore through the trees, not waiting for his reply.

  Finally they caught sight of the group and Meredith thrown across the horse remained limp. They closed the gap and the man who carried Meredith shoved her to the ground. Aiden let out a loud growl and attacked. On the ground, she lifted a hand to her face relieving him of any doubt that she lived. Declan rushed head-on to attack the men.

  * * *

  Meredith shifted and groaned. Her ribs ached at the intake of breath. Wherever she was, it was time to face it. It was a good sign she didn’t feel the sway of the ocean. Hopefully, it meant she was still on land.

  The light that streamed in from the window was quite bright. It was at least the middle of the day. On a chair against the wall, Declan Gordon slept, his legs sprawled before him, his head angling to the left. On his lap was a leather bound book of sorts, telling he’d been there for a while and needed something to occupy his time. His hair was longer than she remembered, touching his broad shoulders and his jawline was darkened with a beard.

  Surely he’d not had her abducted. The room did not look familiar. Did not resemble the chamber she'd stayed in before while at his keep. But then again, she’d only seen the one chamber she’d slept in.

  No, he'd not kidnapped her. There was no reason for him to go to those lengths to take her. Aiden had already agreed to their marriage. Unless her spurning his incessant pleas had driven him mad to the point of it.

  She eyed the doorway. It was cracked open, just enough to slip through. Meredith inched to the side of the bed and gingerly placed one foot then the other onto the floor. A soft snore caused her to freeze in place. Declan inhaled deeply and his mouth moved, but he continued sleeping.

  How handsome he was. For the first time in her life, she was in awe of the beauty of a man. His elegant, but large, hand lay atop his book and she wondered if, perhaps, she’d made a mistake. It was an incredible notion to believe he was her kidnapper.

  Pain shot though her legs when she stood and she fell back onto the bed. “Declan?”

  Heavily lashed eyes met hers. He straightened in the chair and stretched, causing the tome to fall to the floor. The thud of the book was the only sound while he took her in, his eyes scanning her face and down to where her feet dangled over the edge of the bed. “Did you mean to escape?”

  “Am I in your home?” she asked in return, not about to admit her intentions. “Aiden? Where is he?”

  “You are in Moriag. Do you wish for something to drink?” He stood and moved to a table that held a pitcher and goblets, not waiting for her reply. In truth, her throat was dry, her stomach grumbled, but it was more important to find what happened to Aiden.

  “My brother?”

  “He’s gone.”

  Meredith gasped, not taking the goblet Declan held out. “What do you mean? Did he die while trying to rescue me?” Her chest constricted as she waited his reply.

  “Nay. Your brother is not dead. He’s gone after whoever the leader of the group was. Told me he had matters to see to and ensure you are not in danger in the future.”

  “Is that why I’m here?”

  His eyes narrowed and he studied her for several moments. “Your brother feels that you are safer under my protection, yes.”

  “I don’t understand.” Meredith met his narrowed eyes. Suspicion hung in the air as they locked gazes. “Why do you look at me that way?”

  “What did your brother do before taking the helm of Torraibh? What causes men from the north to come and seek you out to capture and take?”

  She’d asked herself the same questions the day before. Was it possible this all had something to do with Aiden? “He took to the seas. For the crown…during the war.”

  “And made enemies it looks like.” Declan seemed to relax as he pushed the drink into her hands. “Drink. I will ask a meal be brought to you.”

  “I wish to go home. I need to see about Lily.”

  “Your maid was sent for, if that’s who you refer to. She should arrive shortly. You cannot leave. Your brother will not return for at least a week.”

  It was hard to ignore his well-built form as he went to the doorway and spoke to someone. Her eyes raked from his broad back to his taut bottom and, lastly, to his well-formed legs. If she were to remain in Moriag, it wouldn’t be long before he’d grace her bed.

  “Is this to be my chamber then?” She looked to see a large trunk at the foot of the bed and a sizeable wardrobe against a far wall. “It’s quite nice.”

  “This is where you will remain from now forth. It is my chamber.”

  “You plan to sleep here?” She swallowed at the thought of spending so many nights with someone not her husband. Yes, she’d been with him before, but somehow this felt very different. “I ask that you restore me to the other smaller chamber.”

  “You continue to rebuff me, I see. Have not forgiven me as yet.” His expression was unreadable, the word spoken without inflection. “I have sinned against you and others and for that I am truly sorry. The stories are true I lay with my father’s wife, something I am not proud of. Even if she was much younger than my father, there is no excuse. I should not have kept the truth to myself in my dealings with you.” He moved to the window and peered out. As he spoke again, Meredith studied his profile, the elegant nose and sensual lips. “It would be preferable that you not dislike me so before marrying, but it looks as if fate has matters in hand.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Color crept up his face. Declan studied his boots for a moment in a rare show of low confidence in such a formidable man. “We are to be wed as soon as you are well enough. Your brother has sent for a priest to come in a few days. The clan and townspeople have been notified.”

  Meredith smoothed the bedding. "Come sit. Tell me what happened between you and your father's w
ife."

  It was strange to see the normally self-assured man drawing in, seeming to fear what he was about to divulge to her. "You won't understand."

  "I will do my best. If I am to be your wife, I want to know everything about you, Declan."

  His stunning eyes met hers for a moment and he finally sat, his legs straight, shoulders rounded, hands clasped between his legs. "I was only ten and five when they came the first time. My da brought her. Me own mother not long dead. I didn't understand what happened, but knew it was wrong. She took me, while he watched. I hated how he watched us while his hand disappeared beneath his own kilt."

  Although his voice was even, as if he were speaking of something long held in, pain radiated from him. Meredith kept from touching him, allowing him to talk.

  "At first they only came once in a long while, but then she came alone. I knew my da didna know. I feared he'd find out and beat me. Or scar me across the face like he did Carrick, so I remained silent. The years passed. I should have sent her away after my father stopped coming and I became older, but in a way, it was my revenge. To cuckold my own da after he'd forced his wife on me when I was but a young lad."

  Jaw tense, he sat silent. Meredith’s heart softened. He'd been judged so unfairly when, in actuality, he'd not been given a choice, not at first. Later, she supposed, it was something that could not be undone.

  "I'm so sorry, Declan. But you must understand you are not to blame."

  His pointed look bored into her eyes. "Not at first perhaps, but I kept allowing it after I was old enough to send her away."

  "Yes, you should have. You didn't. There's nothing to be done about it now. Do you still wish to bed her?"

  "What?” His mouth fell open and then he exhaled. "No. Never again. After Da died, I never touched her again."

  She put her hand on his shoulder. "The past should be left there. Thank you for telling me."

  Chapter Twelve

  Declan paced while Ian sat back in a chair and drank from his cup. “I don’t know whether to trust this is a good idea or not,” he repeated once again. “What do you advise, Ian?”

  “You’ve given your word. You must marry the lass. The McNeil was dealt with and does not feel rebuffed after learning you had little choice in the matter of marrying Meredith Stuart. I convinced him her brother forced the issue after finding you'd seduced her.”

  The fire in the hearth sent warmth into the room, the flames dancing side to side in a calming rhythm. With a resigned sigh he sunk into the chair opposite Ian. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “I’m puzzled,” Ian said, his brows drawn. “I thought you and the lass were already lovers. Why are you so reluctant to marry?”

  "My father’s marriage was not a love match. You saw how easy it was for his wife to seek relations elsewhere. She crawled into others’ beds only days after marrying my father who could not, according to her, quench her needs. Meredith has rebuffed my attempts to court her for weeks. Even now…” he motioned toward the ceiling, “her first action at waking was to attempt escape. I would prefer not to enter in to a marriage where my wife would prefer the company of another man.” The irony of his situation was not lost on him. It would be the price he’d pay for his past actions. Although his father mistreated his wife, and he had a hand in it, he should have stopped it.

  "Did you speak with her? What was it like?" Ian asked.

  "In truth, yes, we spoke of certain things. She, however, never indicated whether she wishes to marry me or not. Accepts that we are to marry. When the maid comes with her meals, she eats and then promptly falls asleep. Meredith is still recovering."

  His friend looked downward in thought. “And there is the matter of her brother. If Aiden is aligned with pirates, it could bring bigger problems to you and the clan.”

  “There is that, too.”

  Declan stood and went to a side table. He poured whiskey into a glass and drank it down. "But as you said, not much to be done about it now. If Aiden Stuart has gotten himself in a spot of trouble, I hope he doesn't expect Gordon assistance."

  "I find it troubling..." Ian began, then cocked his head to the side. "Have you considered that perhaps this was their plan all along? To get you seduced and married off in order to procure the Gordon Clan’s assistance when trouble came?"

  "Of course it has. Meredith claims to have no idea what happens with her brother. Aiden, on the other hand, is hiding something. The Norse came this far because they sought something. Only vengeance would drive a man so far from his land." He downed the whiskey. "I wouldna be surprised if Aiden Stuart did plan some of what happened with his sister. I don't know, Ian, what’s done is done now. We marry the day after tomorrow. I won't have her living here, in my bed, unless we're wed. It's the way it should be."

  "Aye." They drank again and Declan settled into the chair. "What say you, Ian, should we spend the night with a rousing game of absolutely nothing ‘til morning comes?"

  A hand on his shoulder startled Declan. He woke to Ian motioning to the door and shaking him awake. "What is it?"

  "Listen."

  Footsteps shuffled in the next room. It could be a maid stealing away, but they could get to the guards' rooms from the kitchen and through the courtyard. The hounds perhaps. Although when one let out a soft growl, it was clear an intruder was about. Declan and Ian hovered in the doorway.

  A figure in a long shift was flattened against the wall. Ian shook his head and ducked back into the room, shoving Declan out.

  "Declan?" Meredith's voice was shaky. "Are you here?"

  He went to her, not as stable on his feet as he hoped after so much whiskey with Ian. "Aye, lass, I'm here." He shooed the dogs away. "Why are you up and about?"

  "I-I can't sleep." When he went to her, she clung to him, shivering. "Since I'm in your chamber, Lily wouldn't stay. If you are not to sleep there, can she then?"

  "I'll go with you." He tucked her under his arm and guided her up the stairs. He began to talk to calm her. "When a young man first goes off to battle, the excitement keeps him from being afraid many a time. The days in the field are full of activity. Upon returning home and there is too much idle time, they find it impossible to sleep. The true horror of what happened begins to take form and brings nightmares." He kissed the top of her head. "So you see, it is normal for someone who's gone through what you did to relive it once safe. Ye're safe, lass."

  "I am safe," she repeated and clung to him. "Will you stay with me?"

  "Aye, I will. I said I would."

  Minutes later, snuggled against him, her head on his shoulder, she slept soundly. A smile tugged at his lips at her hand clutching his shirt as if fearing he'd leave once she fell asleep.

  "Until we're too old to live, lass. I will never leave you unprotected again."

  The following night he came to the bed only after Meredith slept. He washed up in the basin, removed only his shirt and lay atop the coverings next to her, not touching her. Although he did not want her to sleep elsewhere, he also did not touch her. Once she became his wife, it would be different, but for now, it was best to keep his distance. She'd be his soon enough.

  Come morning, he'd lift her off his chest as she seemed to meander over to him in her sleep. If she awakened, Meredith would slide away if she thought him still asleep. As hard as it was to sleep next to her, it also helped him become familiar with sharing the bed and learning her sleep patterns. Many times, he remained awake and watched Meredith sleep, the beauty of the woman astounding him.

  * * *

  Meredith woke to a sunny morning. Her wedding day had arrived and, although she'd no trepidation of spending the rest of her life with Declan, it worried her that he'd remained distant and aloof since her rescue.

  Her soon to be husband seemed to be kept busy most days away from the keep. When he returned to dine, he filled her in on what happened, impressing her with how quickly he became familiar with the area, often naming farmers and village people by name. In turn, the local town
sfolk grew enamored of their new laird, many gracing their great hall in the evenings and a large number of them attending today's ceremony.

  Tents had been set up outdoors, pigs were being roasted and large pots of root vegetables boiled over fires. The servants, now double in number since she'd first visited, had been rushing for three days in preparation of the wedding and follow-on festivities. Already, two other lairds were ensconced there, having arrived with their families the night before.

  Although she'd met several of the families, her nerves at entertaining so many titled people were on edge. Thankfully, Pat was an expert at taking control and helped guide her as to what needed to be done.

  She and Aiden rarely entertained. When they did, it was not in such a grand manner. Her brother's lands only housed a handful of farmers and there was no town to speak of. Most of them traveled to Moriag for wares and interaction.

  Aiden had yet to return. Days had passed without any news and that added to her lack of enthusiasm of this day. It was to be her second marriage in less than a year. For a woman with a lackluster dowry, it was fortunate the new laird laid claim on her.

  "You look beautiful, milady," Lily told her in low tones. The maid had taken to calling her by title and not her name since moving to Moriag. That her friend also felt the necessity of change made tears spring to her eyes.

  "Please, Lily, call me by name today. You are my only family present and I need you to be my friend today." Meredith wiped at a tear that slid down her cheek and took Lily's hands. "We can go back to silly titles tomorrow if it makes you feel better. But in private, let's be Meredith and Lily."

  The maid smiled, her eyes shining brightly and squeezed her hands. "All right, Meredith, let's get ye hitched properly then."

  They both giggled and hugged, separating abruptly at the chamber door opening.

  Pat, the housemistress, bustled in with a bouquet of wildflowers. "Get a hurry on, lassies, the men await. Mister Ian is outside waiting to walk you to your new husband." She looked over Meredith with an appreciating eye. "Ye look quite bonny, milady. I dear say Laird Gordon will be quite pleased."