Michele Sinclair - [McTiernays 05]

by Seducing the Highlander

  Brenna flopped stomach-first on the bed. At eight years old, she considered herself no longer a little girl and believed she was on the cusp of adulthood. She lacked only the height and the figure, but intellectually she thought herself a match for most adults, and certainly all boys. But since she could not enjoy the benefits of being fully grown, she could not fathom why her mother insisted that she follow rules of decorum made for adults. Letting her dress fall to her knees as her ankles swung back and forth in the air, she was glad Meriel did not care about such silly rules.

  Looking behind her, Brenna smiled and waved for the wafer-thin figure to come into the room. With a small bosom and thick, umber-colored hair plaited in a long single braid, the young woman who hesitated in the doorway initially appeared somewhat plain and younger than her years until one caught her eyes. Pale blue and deep set, they reflected a power of conscious thought. When her gaze was direct and unhidden, it could unnerve one.

  Maegan had been north visiting friends during the drama of Meriel’s first visit, but it took less than a few minutes with the young woman for Meriel to realize that the rumors of Maegan’s outspoken personality and fierce loyalty were, if anything, understated.

  At seventeen, Maegan had many opinions, but lacked the experience that would allow her to see life in something other than absolutes. In many ways, Maegan reminded Meriel of herself and Raelynd not very long ago, and therefore she understood the young woman’s candid comments and intentions better than many who had known her for years. But Maegan differed in one significant way.

  Unlike Meriel, who in her youth had forsworn marriage and decided only to dally in innocent flirtations, Maegan believed herself to have found her one and only true love—Clyde, the youngest of the McTiernays—when she was twelve. Never having desired to learn how to flirt, charm, or be a coquette, Maegan was herself at all times, completely honest and often giving voice to things most would leave unsaid.

  “Oh!” Maegan recoiled as her eyes scanned the room. She had met Meriel when she and Hamish had come through the gate; Maegan had been determined to see who would be coming to stay at the castle. As a child, Maegan had often escaped while her grandmother napped to follow the youngest of Craig’s brothers Clyde everywhere. When Clyde left to the Lowlands for training, she had been thankful when Lady McTiernay offered her something positive on which to refocus her energy. After spending so much of her time helping Lady McTiernay with her children, she considered the McTiernays to be extended family and was quite protective of them. But after meeting Meriel and finding her to be both clever and unusually nice, she suspected Brenna’s memory of the striking woman to be somewhat exaggerated. But, if anything, Brenna had played down Meriel’s lack of orderliness.

  Things were scattered everywhere, just as foretold. In less than three days, Meriel’s sleeping quarters looked as if a female version of Craig had lived there for over a month. Anywhere else, Maegan might have found it less annoying, but Meriel was using Clyde’s room . . . and worse, she had suggested it!

  Upon hearing the idea, Meriel had been thrilled. The idea of staying in Craig’s room again had not been a palatable one. Clyde’s bedchamber, however, was located directly above Craig’s and therefore had the same window layout that let in large amounts of sunlight.

  Although Maegan was glad Meriel was enthusiastic over her proposal, the recommendation was based on a personal need. Maegan had planned to help clean the room with the goal of perusing Clyde’s personal things and, if possible, taking a keepsake. Unfortunately, the area was full of odds and ends and very dusty from years of disuse. It required so many people to get it ready that if anything of interest had been in the room, Maegan would have had no chance of even seeing it, let alone sneaking it out.

  Taking another step inside Clyde’s/Meriel’s room, Maegan’s foot hit a large, heavy traveling bag and nearly stumbled. “Brenna, I apologize. You were not exaggerating. I just could not imagine . . .”

  “That anyone could be so messy?” Meriel finished for her with a smile, indicating that she was not at all offended. Having heard it all before, she was very comfortable with her chaotic style of organization.

  Maegan nodded her head as she stepped over the bag and then another. Wrinkling her nose, she said in disbelief, “You still haven’t unpacked all your stuff?”

  Brenna’s eyes popped open with excitement, remembering the last time she had been able to help Meriel unpack. “You haven’t? Can I help?”

  Meriel nodded, grabbing a pillow off the bed. She placed it on the window bench and sat down, leaning back against the stone wall as she looked down at the busy courtyard below. All concerns about her being bored or missing home, which would have compelled her to expedite her return, were gone. She had not realized how many McTiernay clansmen and -women she had met and had come to know during her previous stay. What was even more surprising was that they remembered her with no ill feelings.

  Fallon was still fearsome and intimidating despite his not being nearly as tall as those around him. His red hair was lighter and there was a little more gray in his beard, but he was still the same gruff and churlish steward who had chided her continuously about her lack of domestic skills. And true to form, as soon as he saw her, he gave her his standard lecture about the courtyard and its dangers. Meriel kept quiet, nodded at appropriate times, and was just promising herself to stay out of his sight when he pulled her brusquely into his arms and gave her a quick, firm squeeze. A second later she was swaying on her feet trying to maintain her balance as the burly steward turned and marched away, howling at someone for not doing something they should have, or vice versa.

  Her encounter with the even crustier Fiona had been even more bewildering. The cook was known to be one of the finest in the Highlands. She was also infamous for being the most difficult. Meriel had made sure the old woman was nowhere in sight when she sneaked through the kitchens to access the scullery and the gardens. There she found the scullery maid, Myrna, one of the few who had been truly friendly and helpful during her miserable attempts to learn what it entailed to be lady of the castle.

  After helping Myrna in the garden for a couple of hours and catching up on the castle gossip, Meriel forgot to be as careful on her return and bumped into the surly cook, who had been standing inside the doorway. But instead of yelling, Fiona had merely huffed and told her that she had better grab some meat, lest she become even more clumsy due to lack of food. Meriel was so shocked she nearly fell down. Fiona never gave her food to anyone. The memory of her snapping at Laird McTiernay for daring to disrupt her kitchens was something Meriel would never forget.

  Then there was Laurel’s best friend, Aileen, and Father Lanaghly and the other castle staff. All of whom were welcoming, cheerful, and genuinely glad to see her again. Meriel went to sleep her first night feeling quite ashamed of herself. When she thought back to her time spent at McTiernay Castle, what had come to mind was the hardship and the frustrations. She had learned several lessons in that short time, but what she had failed to realize was that she had also met many wonderful people who truly liked her, despite the mistakes she had made.

  Thump, thump. Thump. Thump, thump, thump. Meriel glanced back at the bed where Brenna sat pulling shoes from one of the bags. She was tossing them against the wall so they fell next to the others. Meriel had brought too many, but she did not care. It was better than going barefoot.

  “Where do you want these?” Brenna asked, waving a wad of ribbons in the air.

  “Let’s put them . . .” Meriel began, pondering the question as she examined the various piles on the floor. She knew others thought her mess had no reasoning behind it, but they were wrong. She just preferred to always be able to view her things. For when they were put away, she forgot that she had them. However, needing her things out where she could see them did not mean they could be just anywhere. “. . . over there. On that chest. Aye, let’s remove the materials there now and spread them out on the rug, and instead, put the ribbons and th
read on top so they will be out of the way.”

  Maegan’s eyebrows rose with unconcealed amusement. “How many bags did you bring?” Maegan asked as she grabbed one of the heavier ones and swung it on the bed next to Brenna.

  Meriel laughed. “Not nearly as many as I did the first time.”

  Maegan tilted her chin back in disbelief and then, with a shrug of acceptance, said matter-of-factly, “I think you should fall in love and marry Craig.” Meriel’s heart stopped as she watched the young woman open up the bag and peer inside. Had anyone said anything? Meriel thought she had been very discreet with the inner turmoil she had been experiencing. “You and he are so messy that you are the only ones who could live with each other and still be happy,” Maegan finished, and Meriel felt a rush of relief.

  Brenna giggled. “Meriel cannot marry Craig. He says he is never going to fall in love. I think she should marry Hamish.”

  Comforted that neither girl had any insight as to her true reasons for visiting, Meriel regained her composure and said cheerfully, “I have no intention of marrying anyone! I have come to relax and visit, neither of which requires a man or being in love.”

  Ignoring the declaration, Maegan tapped a finger on her chin and stared at Brenna. “You know, Hamish is rather good-looking, and I have heard the girl he was after refused him.”

  “Wyenda rejected him?” Meriel asked without thinking. She was surprised anyone would give up a chance to catch Hamish. After she had finally disposed of most of her mistaken assumptions about him, she had decided that he was not only an attractive man, but he had a generous soul that could make a girl’s heart melt.

  Maegan’s sky-blue eyes widened in shock. “Wyenda? Hamish was chasing after that spùllach Wyenda?” she repeated with outright disdain.

  Meriel bit the inside of her cheek. Avaricious was not exactly a flattering description, and Meriel wondered if Maegan had spoken out of turn when Brenna said, “Men have liked her forever. But she thinks she is too beautiful for anyone—even Hamish and my uncle Craig. She wants to marry a nobleman or someone rich like Iain Matheson. I heard her say so myself.”

  Meriel sat up. Had she misunderstood? Or at one time had Craig sought Wyenda’s attention? “Is she truly that pretty?”

  Maegan shrugged. “She must be. All the men follow her around.”

  “Hamish doesn’t like her anymore,” Brenna stated matter-of-factly.

  “And just how do you know that?” Meriel asked, immediately wishing she could retract the question. Brenna was notorious for knowing practically everything that was happening around the castle, for she was an expert eavesdropper. She was not exactly a gossip, as she did not run around telling all that she overheard at every opportunity, but then neither did she feel the need to keep the information private if the subject came up.

  “I heard Hamish telling Gilroy yesterday, by the silversmith’s. He didn’t make a lot of sense because he said that Wyenda didn’t realize just what she was giving up. So, doesn’t that mean Hamish doesn’t like her anymore?”

  Maegan sighed. “Not exactly. But hopefully he will soon figure out who she is and stop embarrassing himself by chasing her.”

  Brenna frowned. “Why doesn’t Hamish chase you, Meriel? Oh . . . oh . . . oh, I know! You could go after him! And I could help you! You and he are already friends and he is sooo nice. He always swings me around whenever I ask.”

  Meriel smiled. The qualifications of love for an eight-year-old were significantly more simple. At what age did it become complicated? “I’m not sure one can change their feelings about someone that quickly.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, it’s like this room,” Meriel said, trying to think of an explanation Brenna would understand. “Even if I wanted to give up being messy and become neat and organized, I couldn’t suddenly change my habits. It takes time.”

  “If only I could let my room look like yours. Then I would never change because I would never have to clean anything!” Brenna exclaimed, tossing an undergarment into the air.

  Maegan gave the little girl a disapproving look before scooping up the sheer frock and folding it. Then, looking around and realizing there was nowhere to put it, she let it drop back to the floor with a sigh. “It’s fun, I guess, but I would not want to live this way.”

  “That’s because you don’t think Clyde wants to live this way. If he did, not a thing you owned would be where it belonged.”

  Maegan narrowed her gaze and then, without thought, grabbed the remaining pillow on the bed and took a threatening stance. The action only spurred Brenna to comment further, and she jumped off the bed and out of reach. “Save me, Meriel!”

  “How about I show you how to braid your hair instead?”

  The little girl’s eyes gleamed. “Really? Like yours?” At Meriel’s nod, Brenna jumped back on the bed and proudly announced to Maegan, “Meriel is going to make me a new dress.”

  “And I am also making your brother, Braeden, a new leine,” Meriel added, beginning to brush the young girl’s tresses with long strokes.

  “You’ll have to catch him first,” Brenna said, trying not to wince as the brush became caught in one of the knots in her curly hair.

  Maegan finished emptying the bag she had been working on and moved to the next one. In it she found four gowns. As she pulled them out, her eyes grew bigger as each seemed even prettier than the last. Laying the last one down, she fondled the light material. She had never seen anything so beautiful.

  The bliaut was made of ivory silk that opened up at the hem to reveal an undergown of pale rose. Long fitted sleeves, puffed slightly at the shoulders, echoed the elegant high collar that came down into a low V-neckline. The edge of the neckline was embroidered in delicate pink flowers and pale green leaves that matched the design of the loose belt. Maegan could only imagine what it looked like on. “Do you think I would look pretty in something like this?”

  Hearing the hesitancy in Maegan’s voice, Meriel paused and studied the young woman as she held the gown against her figure. The design required more bosom than Maegan had, and the girl needed something with more color, but never would Meriel utter those words. It was the first time she had heard Maegan say anything about improving her appearance and making herself more attractive. “Would you mind if I make you a gown while I’m here? I could show you how to embroider the edges so that you could make it your own.”

  Maegan released the ivory bliaut and was about to shake her head, denying her ability to create such a vision, when she spied Brenna’s taunting stare. Smoky eyes were daring her to reject the offer. “Thank you. I accept.”

  Seeing the exchange, Meriel offered, “I promise you, it will be beautiful. So much so that when Clyde does return, he will not have eyes for anyone but you.”

  Meriel entered the Great Hall through the large doors, eager for the evening meal. For two weeks, she had pushed thoughts of Craig aside by immersing herself in materials and patterns, creating one garment after another. Today, she had finished Braeden’s leine and new kilt and even managed to get the young boy to try them on; thankfully, they fit. Maegan’s idea of using one of his old shirts as the pattern for a new, slightly larger one had turned out to be brilliant.

  Bonny, Laurel’s youngest child, who had turned five years old during the summer, and Brenna had been eager participants and had persuaded their father to allow Meriel to use the prized material he had originally procured just for his wife. With access to a stockpile of heavenly materials, the number of garments that could be made was practically unlimited. At first, Meriel had embraced the wealth of work available, for it kept her mind off home, her family, and Craig.

  She usually ate the morning and noon meals in the hall with Laurel, Bonny, Brenna, and Maegan, and oftentimes Laurel’s best friend, Aileen. The nights, however, were hard. She found herself withdrawing rather than reaching out to the few friends she had made.

  At home, right after the main meal, she was used to sitting quietly by the fire a
nd talking with either her sister or Craig. To avoid memories of those treasured moments, she typically ate in her room. Then, if the weather permitted, she would venture out onto the curtain wall to look at the stars, thinking . . . and remembering. She had been gone a fortnight, and nothing had changed. Craig had not come after her and, unfortunately, she was no closer to walling off her heart. She still loved Craig, and despite her belief that he loved her as well, being apart was not going to convince him to discuss their feelings and decide together if their relationship should evolve into something more.

  She needed to let him go. She just needed to know how.

  If time was the answer, it was going to take more than she had. McTiernay Castle was supposed to be a temporary haven where she could sort out her emotions and move on. She had never intended to hide within its walls for more than a month, but at the rate her heart was healing, she would need to remain with the McTiernays throughout the winter and into spring—something her father would most likely protest vehemently. But until she had a plan . . . a way . . . some idea of how she was going to see, talk, and be around Craig without breaking down, she could not return.

  Tonight, however, Craig would not be the first and foremost problem on her mind. His brother Conan would be.

  Maegan—being Maegan—conspired with Laurel to compel Meriel to dine in the Great Hall with a small group of friends and family. In order to oblige Meriel to attend, the meal was in honor of her and the work she had done for Laird and Lady McTiernay’s children. Meriel tried to have it postponed until she had finished her gowns for Laurel, Aileen, and Maegan, but the suggestion had not even been considered. Meriel was to come to dine with family and friends and that was that. Unfortunately, “family” also meant Conan McTiernay would be there as well.

  Craig had six brothers. Three older and three younger, if you accepted his claim that he was the elder twin. After Crevan came Conan and Clyde. All of them, with the exception of Conor—Laird McTiernay—and Conan, were living elsewhere, either in support of a brother or chieftain of a clan.