‘Can we...do we...?’ Just that contact excited her, but Ciara was not sure how to ask for what she wanted.
‘Ciara, my love,’ he whispered to her, ‘we can. We do.’
He kissed her then and she forgot all her worries. All the years she’d waited and wanted and hoped and prayed were over. He was hers now and they had their entire lives ahead of them.
And the rest of this night.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Marian could only smile. As did Jocelyn, Margriet and Margaret. Sitting at the high table with their husbands, they all were smiling.
Although the men had doubted that Tavis would ever declare his love for Ciara, the women never had. Over the last several years, as he went through such terrible grief over his loss of Saraid, he never turned from Ciara. Even though something had happened between them, a reckoning of a sort, more than a year ago, he still watched and watched over her, never letting go completely.
And, in spite of agreeing to a number of possible matches and almost going through with this one, Ciara had never stopped loving Tavis.
Marian sighed then and the women all smiled more.
The husbands had a different reaction, though.
Connor shook his head. ‘James would have been a suitable husband for her,’ he said. The other men shook their heads in agreement...as he knew they would. It was hard for them to lose a wager.
Especially one made to their wives.
‘I thought he would let her marry James,’ said Rurik. ‘Tavis did not seem interested in marrying her, though he wanted her, that was clear.’
‘Rurik!’ Margriet said. ‘He loved her.’
‘I do not think he stood a chance against her,’ Duncan said. ‘She has a way of knowing what she wants and getting it, no matter how long it takes.’
‘And you are proud of her,’ Marian said. ‘Do you think she will continue to help you in your work now that she is married?’
‘I think she and Tavis will work things out between themselves,’ Duncan said. ‘In spite of a strange beginning, I think they will be happy.’
‘Well,’ Connor said, holding up his cup in front of them. ‘I wish them well,’ he said. ‘To Tavis and Ciara!’
‘To Tavis and Ciara!’ they called out.
Marian glanced at the others and reminded them, ‘But the proof of who wins our wager will come in a year.’
‘By then, your daughter or son will be ready to consider marriage, Jocelyn,’ Margriet said.
Jocelyn paled and Connor laughed. ‘’Tis easier when someone else’s bairn is in the middle of it, is it not, love?’ he asked, reaching out to stroke his wife’s cheek.
‘You are right, Connor. They all seem so young to me, even though I know it is nearly time to let them go.’
‘If Tavis and Ciara are any indication, I think there is much happiness out there awaiting them all.’
One by one each couple left the high table, heading for their own cottages and beds until only Connor and Jocelyn remained.
‘Are you pleased with this match, Connor? Will it cause problems with the contracts and agreements you made with the Murrays?’ Jocelyn asked him.
‘I think it will all work out—Murray thinks he got out of this with a decent dowry, a more acceptable and suitable wife for his son and an agreement that allies him with our clan. And he did,’ Connor explained. ‘But we get to keep Ciara where she belongs and Tavis continues in my service where I need him most—here. And we get access to the ports I need to expand our trading business on to the Continent.’
‘And you knew all of that would happen?’ Jocelyn asked.
‘I knew Tavis would not be able to let her marry another. That much was clear even to me.’
Jocelyn laughed and the sound of it brightened his soul. She might think him unable or unwilling to place a value on love, but she forgot that she had taught him the importance of it.
‘There might be hope for you yet, Connor,’ she said softly, touching his hand and stroking it gently.
‘Aye, there just might be.’
And the laird and lady of Lairig Dubh were the last to leave their hall.
Epilogue
Lairig Dubh, Scotland—spring AD 1373
Ciara walked through the small house, touching everything as she did. Each piece of furniture, from the new table to the mantel over the hearth, the chairs and the stools—he had made every piece of it, all of it, just for them.
Tavis had worked for months, crafting the furnishings for their new home in between his duties to the laird; now that it was ready, Ciara just wanted to stand and stare at it all. A labour of love on his part and one she would forever treasure.
She climbed the stairs to the second floor and entered the bedchamber. Even the bed was new and it was wide and high and well-strung. In spite of her loathing of needlework, Ciara, with the help of her mother and Beitris, who excelled at it, had sewn the bedcovers that lay over it now and she reached out to smooth them. A home built with love, she thought as she made her way back down the stairs.
They had decided to accept the laird’s invitation to live in the keep until they built a new house. Living in Saraid’s house together did not feel right to her and so, using some of her dowry, they planned a new one. And now it was ready.
And just in time.
The last year and a half had sped by for them as they adjusted to married life and being a part of the clan. The laird had asked Ciara to work with her father and use her skills for their benefit and she loved her work. Tavis remained in charge of his personal guard and travelled with the laird when needed or travelled with Ciara and her parents when they carried out the business of the MacLeries.
In slower times, she did teach Tavis to read as she had offered on that day long, long ago and he taught her many, many things. She blushed at the thought of some of them now, but he also taught her how to compromise and to cook. In learning and perfecting other skills, her ability to cook had never been one she practised, until they were about to move into this new home and one where she would be in charge of such matters. She had not revealed that she had hired someone to help her keep house and to watch over things when they were not home.
The door opened and she heard his footsteps behind her. His hands slid around her and came to rest on her large belly.
‘You did not carry anything up the stairs, did you?’ he asked, nuzzling her neck until she laughed.
‘Nay, Tavis,’ she replied, turning in his embrace.
‘Do you like it?’ he asked, releasing her and leading her to a chair. ‘Did you see the bedchamber?’
‘I did,’ she said. ‘’Tis exactly as I’d hoped.’
Although he pretended not to like to talk and used all sorts of distractions to keep her from too many conversations, they had talked and planned and discussed every inch of the plans for this house before a piece of wood was chopped or a stone moved for it. His ability to carve extended to larger work and not just the small animals made to entertain a child.
Those precious carvings, along with the newest ones, sat on a shelf in the room where their bairn would sleep and would wait for that child to play with them as she had all those years before.
He poured her a cup of watered ale and handed it to her, then sat next to her.
‘What did Gunna say?’
‘The bairn should be fine, Tavis.’
‘And you?’
‘I am fine as well. As long as I do not have pains, I can keep up my regular activities.’
‘No riding.’
‘No riding,’ she said with a sigh. ‘And no carrying.’
‘You will listen to her instructions?’ he asked.
‘Aye.’
He worried for her. After his experience with Saraid, she was not surprised by it. Though he tried to control it, she knew he watched her more closely as she got further along in carrying their bairn. She would wake up at night and find him lying at her side just watching her sleep.
‘All will
be well,’ she said. She reached up and stroked his cheek, gazing into the green eyes that reflected the love she felt for him. ‘I promise it.’
And as they sat together in their new home for the first time, Ciara looked around and realised that everything was there exactly as she had hoped and dreamt it would be when she first claimed Tavis for herself. It had taken her more than ten years to get him, but she was glad she had waited for him as her heart had told her to do.
He was well worth the wait.
* * * * *
“Who are you? Why have you done this?” she said as she looked from one man to another and to the next.
“Does my father know about this?”
Rob waited for her to bring her gaze back to him and then he smiled at her.
A silent moment passed, and then another, before the light of recognition flared in her forest-green eyes. Then she shook her head, though whether in disbelief or confusion he knew not. Lilidh opened her mouth several times, but no words escaped. The distraction was all he needed to gain control of her, so he crossed the empty space between them in a few paces, grabbed her wrist and squeezed until she dropped the dagger. Kicking it aside, he still held on to her. As she probably had when Symon took her, she did not allow his hold to remain there. She began backing away, pulling and tugging, trying to free herself.
Lilidh just did not realize she had no chance of escape. As Dougal and some others returned to the hall Rob gave one sharp tug and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He noticed the smell of blood and saw the thick patch of it on her head—she had been struck and knocked unconscious. Tightening his hold, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, so that only she could hear his words.
“’Tis good to see you, too, Lilidh. It’s been a long time.”
* * *
At the Highlander’s Mercy
Author Note
More than five years ago, while I was writing Possessed by the Highlander, the heroine’s daughter surprised me by grabbing her mother’s hand and declaring her intention to marry the young man who had been entertaining her during their journey to their now home. In a flash I saw Ciara Robertson as a grown woman, marrying Tavis MacLerie, the man she claimed in that moment! Fast forward to 2013 and I’m thrilled to have had the chance to tell their story in my last book, The Highlander’s Stolen Touch, and now to watch as all the children born in the first three tales find their own love stories.
Connor and Jocelyn, Rurik and Margriet, and Duncan and Marian—the heroes and heroines from my first trilogy—must find suitable matches for them…and that leads to a challenge among the couples about the mothers or fathers finding the best spouses for their children!
So I hope you’ll enjoy returning to the powerful MacLerie laird, his lady, kith and kin as they face the challenges and rewards of life in Lairig Dubh, Scotland!
AT THE HIGHLANDER’S MERCY
Terri Brisbin
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Chapter One
Lilidh MacLerie, eldest daughter of the MacLerie laird and Earl of Douran, looked out her window and tried to sort through her options. This silent time between the gloaming and the night was her favourite when she needed to make decisions or choices. Remembering now that she’d made the decision that had brought her to this time and place made her pause. Mayhap she should wait until morning instead?
Turning from the window and gazing across the large, well-furnished chamber, she knew she had little time or choice...again. The parchment remained as she’d left it and she lifted it, tilting it so that the light of several candles made it able to be read. For the fiftieth time, she said the words and could not yet decide what else to write, when so much more was needed.
To the Earl and Countess of Douran, it began, using their formal titles first. Father and Mother, next.
And then the words disappeared.
How could she explain the private misery behind the very public death of her husband of only two months? The MacGregor’s death had been kept quiet for now until his heir, his younger brother, was approved by the clan elders as chief. Her purpose in this marriage—to bind their clans and to produce an heir for the
MacGregor—was a failure. Though, even as an innocent young woman coming to this marriage, she understood that things were not as they should have been between her and Iain MacGregor.
The parchment in her hand moved in the current of the warm air created by the heat of the candles and reminded her that this task also went unfinished. Sitting at the table, she lifted the quill, dabbed the ink so it would not splatter and forced the words on to the page that would both embarrass and humiliate her in her parents’ and clan’s eyes.
I find myself in need of your counsel concerning the situation of my position here in Iain MacGregor’s household and family. As his widow, though with no hope of producing an heir, I know...
What did she know? She had married him under a contract negotiated by her uncle and signed by her father. Her dower portion was protected for her use and she had been given the choice of remaining here as part of her husband’s clan or to return to her own. Her uncle had made certain to protect her in the contract, but giving her such a choice made things more difficult than if she’d been simply told what to do.
If she remained, there would be another marriage arranged for her, to a suitable eligible man, to keep the bonds between the clans strong. If she returned home, there would be another marriage, but also she would face the disappointment of her family in her failure. And with no way to explain and with no one to speak candidly about it, what could she say? Lilidh dipped the quill again to freshen the ink and placed the tip of it on the parchment.
She was being a silly ninny. Her parents loved her and would accept her back, explanation or not. Her mother was the only one to whom she could speak on personal matters. As she had before her marriage, even if that conversation did not explain what had happened or, as it was, not happened between a husband and wife. Looking off at the flame of the candle, she took and released a deep breath, and did the only sensible thing she could: she asked leave to come home.
I find little reason to remain here and would ask your permission to return to Lairig Dubh as soon as an escort can be arranged. I would seek your counsel on other important personal matters, but I hesitate to put them in this letter.
Father, please send word if this is your pleasure.
Mother, please keep me in your prayers and ask the Almighty to watch over me during this trying time.
It was short, but to the point, and there truly was little else to say in her missive. Sanding it, Lilidh allowed the ink to dry and then folded the letter, sealing it with the ring her father had given her on the anniversary of her birth a year before. She would send it off on the morrow with one of the MacLerie servants who had accompanied her here. Hopefully, within a fortnight, she would have an answer from her parents and know what her future held for her.
But how could she explain that though she was a bride and a widow, she’d never been a wife?
* * *
Jocelyn MacCallum, wife to Connor MacLerie, held the parchment before her and read it once more. The sadness in
her daughter’s words was clear to her. Lilidh, her eldest daughter, was never anything but confident and self-assured. But the words, nay, the tone of this latest letter, told her that Lilidh was lost.
‘You will give her permission?’ she asked her husband as he climbed from their bed and walked to where she sat. As she glanced up, her mother’s heart grew heavy in her chest. Lilidh was far away and all Jocelyn wanted to do was to take her in her arms and soothe away the pain that was so evident in her words.
‘I am discussing it with Duncan and the other elders,’ Connor replied quietly as he lifted the parchment and placed it back on the table. ‘The MacGregors have kept Iain’s death quiet until his heir is in place. With tensions so high and war with their rival clan the MacKenzies in the air, they do not wish to open themselves to attack. But, for this night, there is nothing to be done, Jocelyn. Come back to bed.’ He took her hand in his and entwined their fingers, tugging her to stand.
She allowed her husband to wrap her in his arms, much as she wanted to do to Lilidh, but Jocelyn realised quickly that his aim had little to do with comforting a lost child. She caught her breath as he lifted her in his strong arms and carried her back to their bed. She understood that her husband’s need for her as well as his attempts to distract her from her sadness and taking too much interest in clan decisions brought on his intimate attentions. She’d allow it, later, for those same reasons.
For now, she asked her last question once more, not content to let the men make this critical decision without her counsel.
‘Will you bring her home?’ She watched as many emotions crossed her husband’s face, but the final one that settled was acceptance. As she knew it would.
‘Aye. I was simply waiting on her word.’
She leaned into him and kissed his mouth. ‘Did you send her word yet?’ He pulled her close, surrounding her with his strength and his love. Kissing her forehead, he rested his chin on her head.
Terri Brisbin Highlander Bundle Page 21