“When is it going to get better?” Craig rubbed his face vigorously. “I think Meriel entered our marriage truly believing that she would be able to do exactly as she had been, just in a different location!”
“And w-what is Meriel asking of you that is so onerous?”
Craig sank into his chair. “I don’t know. Patience until she learns how to cook? Honestly, I’m not too sure she ever plans on learning how to put together even a simple meal. Meriel would be happy to keep on abusing her position as the laird’s daughter.”
“It’s hardly abuse, and you know that Rae, her sister, and I have no qualms w-w-with her raiding our kitchens. W-we don’t understand w-why you don’t just eat here.”
Craig scoffed. “You’re right. If she isn’t willing to try to learn how to cook for me . . . I mean for us . . . we should eat here. It would be simpler.”
Crevan, still leaning forward, tapped the tips of his index fingers together. “So she expects things to remain exactly as they w-were be-f-fore you married, and you expect her to do nothing but change.”
Change. Craig cringed at the word. How many times had he and Meriel promised that they would not change each other? “Is it so unreasonable for a man to expect his wife to act like a normal, typical spouse? I’m only asking for a clean shirt and some decent food!”
Crevan shook his head, knowing that Craig was lost in his thoughts. His brother was listening, but not hearing. “If you w-w-wanted typical, you married the wrong w-woman. Meriel w-will never make you happy.”
Craig’s head snapped up and true anger flashed in his bright blue eyes. Crevan continued, now that he had his brother’s attention. “Our w-wives are not traditional w-w-women. Never have been and they never w-will be and that is w-why w-we love them so.
“Look at Conor and Laurel. Look at any of our married brothers. All of us have chosen strong, smart, and often infuriatingly independent w-women. W-which also means we have stubborn, crafty, and w-w-willful w-wives. And because they are all of these things, they w-want—and even demand—more than most w-wives do of their husbands.
“Raelynd insists on having significant input into all decisions w-when it comes to the castle and the clan. It is something her f-father and I are constantly trying to balance as neither of us always trusts her judgment. But—and don’t tell her I told you this—a f-f-few of those times, w-we have regretted it miserably that w-we did not. F-for you and Meriel, it sounds like autonomy is your curse. And how you deal w-w-with that is up to you and her, but let me add one last thought f-for my w-wife’s sake. And f-f-for my sanity.”
Craig sat back in the chair, his anger ebbing but not completely gone. He heard all that his brother was saying, but it changed nothing.
“Aye, the castle is w-well run,” Crevan continued. “Raelynd is exceptional at organizing and overseeing, though sometimes she can be a little too demanding. Most of our ‘discussions’ are on that point, by the w-way. But Caireoch,” Crevan said, mimicking Craig’s gesture, “is a huge responsibility.
“How many times have you heard that our neighbors enjoy the w-warmth and hospitality of our homes? That our clansmen are not as belligerent as many Highlanders you and I have met? W-why do you think the games come here more often than some-w-where else? You’ve been to other clans, other castles. Too often they are in a state of chaos. ’Twas the w-way of McTiernay Castle before Laurel came. You remember. But it is not, nor has it ever been, that w-way here. And Raelynd w-would not be as successful as she has been at keeping this castle running if she did not have the support of her sister. Raelynd needs Meriel more than ever, especially now that she is w-with child.”
Craig took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He had come to his brother for comfort and advice and he was finding just the opposite. “I understand your not-so-subtle hint, brother, but precisely how is Meriel supposed to take care of her own home when she is exhausted after working here? I can learn to accept eating dinner here every night, and you know that I feel quite comfortable in a cluttered room, but how am I supposed to live in a place where I am not allowed even to put my shield down in fear of getting flayed for destroying something flimsy and, arguably, unimportant?”
Crevan sat back and with a nod of his head acknowledged his brother’s predicament. “My knowledge of Meriel is that she is incredibly stubborn. She w-will do w-w-whatever she desires. Maybe you just need to encourage her to think of your home as a place f-f-for others beyond herself. Something to take pride in.”
Craig had not thought of that. Meriel had inherited quite a strong dose of the Schellden pride, and no one was more tenacious once she had an idea in her head. “What if we should invite the family over?”
Crevan stretched out his legs again, a grin growing on his face. “Raelynd has been complaining that she doesn’t get to spend much time w-with her sister since you moved out.”
Craig rose to his feet and slapped his brother on the shoulder, thanking him. He returned home, much relieved to find Meriel exactly where he left her, asleep on their bed, unmoved, in the same position.
Huh, he muttered to himself. She really must have been exhausted. Deciding he needed to think more than sleep, he settled himself on the chair and got comfortable. It was not until the end of their conversation that his brother truly helped with an idea to solve his current situation, but Crevan had brought many things into focus.
The idea of change had been the most surprising. Craig had not realized it, but he had expected many things to change, and yet had done little of it himself. But it was time he did some compromising. First, he would give up the idea of coming home to a warm dinner. An easy sacrifice. Harder was accepting that he would have to continue to share Meriel with her clan duties—at least until Raelynd had her baby. But he would. Those two changes on his part should help enormously. But the last remained in Meriel’s control. The state of their cottage.
Craig glanced at the bedroom and decided not to wake her up and talk about it now, despite his yearning to do just that. In the morning, she would be rested and in good spirits. Aye, he said to himself as he rested his head against the back of the chair, closing his eyes, tomorrow we can talk.
Meriel woke up and stretched her limbs, wiggling her toes. She felt good. She did not know how long it would last, but at least for the moment, she felt wonderful. Nothing had awakened her in the middle of the night. Craig had not aroused her prematurely when he got ready in the morning to head out. If only all days could begin thus.
Slipping out of bed, she grabbed a robe and stopped short when she saw Craig’s large form looking most uncomfortable asleep on one of the hearth chairs. “Craig, why are you sleeping out here?”
“Wh-what?” His head sprang up, the pattern of the woven material he had been using as a pillow imprinted on his face. Meriel pressed the back of her hand to her lips to hide her mirth.
“What are you doing?” she asked, leaning against the door frame. “Did you sleep out here?”
Craig rubbed his face and stretched his arms up into the air. “I guess I did. Didn’t mean to.” He twisted his neck to one side and then the other. “I must have fallen asleep thinking about things.”
Meriel gave a slight shove to the door frame and stood erect. “What things?” she asked hesitantly, and walked toward the chair next to him.
She needed to be sitting down if he was going to tell her once again that she needed to give up her responsibilities at the castle. How was she going to refuse? Because she would, despite the injury it might cause her marriage. She had thought about it as long as she was able before sleep took over. And her last thought was about all her duties and responsibilities. She might have become Craig McTiernay’s wife, but she was still Laird Rae Schellden’s daughter. Craig would simply have to accept that. And if he could not . . . A shiver went through her, for she still could not accept what that would mean.
“Me, mostly,” Craig answered. “We’ve never talked about the times I spent in battle.”
�
�I wanted to. You refused.”
“I still do. No one should live through that hell. I won’t live it twice by retelling it, and I will not have you experience it even a little. But during those times, at night, the men would talk. And the ones who did the talking were usually the married men. They would describe in detail what was waiting for them at home. Warmth, a loving wife, a family to greet them. And every story included a mouthwatering meal—probably because all we ever ate was what we could find and catch. Too often by the time we got our share it was cold. So the stories, the images, gave all of us something to look forward to. A reason to fight and live and never give up. And for those of us who were not married, they gave us dreams for our future.”
“But you never wanted to get married.”
Craig reached out and clasped her hand softly in his, stroking her palm with his thumb. “I just did not want to admit that I wanted to get married.” He smiled at her and she smiled back. “So I think that is what has been behind my expectations and disappointments.”
Meriel held her breath. When he did not continue, she said, her tone melancholy, “I am sorry I cannot be what you want.”
Craig gave her hand a quick, firm squeeze. “You misunderstand. I truly did not realize I was demanding that you change into what I envisioned to be a normal wife. You have always been different from other women. That is why I was so immediately drawn to you. I had just forgotten that, until Crevan reminded me.”
Meriel swallowed and her heart stopped. She did not want their problems to be known to anyone. “You went and saw your brother.”
“Aye. He made me realize that while I’ve been patient, I have not been open to change. He told me that I have been wrong to try to change you, and perhaps need to be doing more of it myself. Like accepting his offer of eating at the castle with your family.”
She tugged his hand. “Our family.”
He smiled. “Aye, our family. And that you have an important role in supporting Raelynd with the castle responsibilities. My wife does not stay at home during the day. For now, she works as I do, and that requires adjustment, not only from you but from me as well.”
More than mollified, Meriel suddenly wished that Craig had visited his brother weeks ago. “It sounds like we both need to accept that things are not going to be exactly as we thought they would be.”
“After talking with Crevan, I would like to invite him to our home. He and Raelynd as well as your father.”
“Here? Why not meet at the castle?”
Craig shook his head. He needed the invitation to be from her to their home. “I think your father needs to see us here, happy and content. Crevan said that he would have been over here already but is waiting for an invitation. I could invite him over tonight.”
Meriel snatched her hand from his grasp and sat up straight. “Don’t you dare! He would order me home the first instant he saw this place, and probably behead you!”
Craig hid the enormous smile that he was feeling. Ahh, Meriel’s pride when properly pricked was indeed the solution. “He knows we both are messy.”
“It is not the mess that I care about,” she huffed.
Craig leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “I must go to work. How about a compromise? I will let you choose when to issue the invitations as long as you promise me that you will. And that it will be sometime soon.”
Meriel bit her bottom lip. He added that last part just because he knew she would easily have agreed otherwise. “Fine,” she said with a long sigh. “I will invite them.”
Meriel took a step back and surveyed her home with pride. It had taken two weeks for her to keep her word, but early that morning, right after Craig left, she had forced herself to rise and go to the castle. While there, she met with her sister and for the first time listened attentively to every detail and description Raelynd offered about her pregnancy. When Meriel extended an invitation for her, Crevan, and their father to join them for dinner, Raelynd eagerly responded that they would. She had wanted to visit for some time, but Crevan had been overly concerned about her traveling anywhere without him.
Leaving her sister, Meriel went to the kitchens and asked them to prepare a special meal and deliver it later that day. She then went home and completed work on the cottage. By the time the food arrived, her home was not clean by Raelynd’s standards, but in Meriel’s mind it was close to spotless.
Peace filled her as she surveyed the small feast arranged on the table. It had been prepared by castle staff, but Craig did not seem to mind anymore that she herself was not doing the cooking. At long last, the fights were in the past. Once again, conversation was the focal point of their nights. They would enjoy the fare one of them retrieved from the castle, and then settle in the back room to talk about their day and their plans for the next. When one of them would eventually propose that they retire, the other eagerly complied.
Only twice had they opted to go to the castle to eat and visit; something Raelynd had pointed out during their most recent visit, and Meriel did pause to consider it. She loved her family very much. And part of her wanted to see them often, even daily, but even more she treasured time with her husband. She felt like their marriage had only recently begun, and she was reluctant to join the world when she had the option of spending time alone with Craig.
But tonight was different. Tonight she had news to share. The reason for her early morning trip to the castle was twofold. One had been to see her sister, but the other had been to meet with the same woman who would oversee the birthing of Raelynd’s babe. And when the midwife confirmed the reason behind her lethargy and inability to keep down a meal, Meriel knew exactly how she wanted to share the news.
An abrupt knock on the door startled Meriel out of her reverie and she rushed to open the door. A cold gust of winter wind blew in and Crevan quickly ushered his wife inside. “I’m fine, Crevan,” Raelynd admonished as she began to remove the layers of clothing.
Crevan pulled Meriel into a bear hug and then set her back down to help his wife. “You are in all w-ways f-fine, love, but you are also cold.”
Rae Schellden stepped through the entrance and gave Meriel a huge smile. “So finally the father has been invited to his daughter’s home.” Meriel ran into Rae’s arms, returning his long hug. “You see me almost daily, Papa.”
He kissed the top of her head. “’Tis not the same, and you know it.”
He looked overhead and glanced around. “It looks as I imagined it would with you and Craig as its owners—full.”
“Papa,” Meriel said again with a slight warning in her voice. It was one he knew well, having heard it all his life whenever he mentioned the state of her room.
“Aye, daughter, I agree. No lecture tonight. You have invited us here this evening and by the looks of all the food, it is to be quite a feast. Are we celebrating something other than our ability to maneuver in your and Craig’s home?”
“Papa!” Meriel tried for a reproving tone, but her joy prevented it.
Rae slapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. “Where is that son-in-law of mine, anyway?”
Meriel peered out the window. The sun was now down, and these days Craig was always home by dark. “Something must have detained him. But he will be here soon,” she promised.
Crevan pulled out a chair for Rae and then one for himself. Sitting down, he slouched to a comfortable position before stealing a piece of cheese and plopping it into his mouth. “So I’m guessing Craig has no idea that w-w-we are here.”
Meriel licked her lips and gave herself a hug as she continued to stare out the window. “No, I only decided this morning. I wanted everything to be a surprise.” Then, hearing Crevan’s low chuckle, she turned to look him directly in the eye. “Do you know why he is late?”
At her sister’s question, Raelynd moved from the warmth of the fire to join her husband and gave him a pointed stare. Crevan threw up his hands in the air. “I know nothing. Only that one of the men in the stable menti
oned that my brother w-was not in a mood to be trifled w-with, but that w-w-was hours ago. I’m sure w-whatever w-was bothering him then has been dealt w-with and has passed.”
“Do you know what it was?”
“I truly do not. But I did hear some rumors that two of the w-w-weavers have become ill, requiring the Highland’s most skilled artist w-with a needle to humble herself by making blankets.” Meriel rolled her eyes and settled into the chair closest to the window, tacitly allowing him to change the topic.
An hour later the conversation continued merrily, but they were all famished. Since she had no idea when Craig would arrive, Meriel announced they should go ahead and eat. But she hoped he would arrive soon. Not just because of their guests and her news, but now she was worried. The weather had turned markedly colder that day and the wind outside had grown bitter. Meriel knew that Crevan was also concerned, but there was little either of them could do about the situation.
“I did not tell you earlier today,” Raelynd said, trying unsuccessfully to hide her enthusiasm, “but we finally have made some decisions about the baby.”
Meriel swallowed. Finally? Her sister was only three months pregnant, but she was talking as if she were about to give birth. Meriel wondered if in a few weeks she too would be talking similar nonsense. “What decisions?”
“We finally agreed to where we are going to place our daughter’s bed.”
Crevan lifted Raelynd’s wrist to his mouth for a kiss. “You mean our son’s, love,” he said softly.
Meanwhile, Meriel’s hand went to her throat. “Not our old room?”
Raelynd immediately waved her hand dismissively. “Of course not. Those rooms are way too far removed from the rest of the keep. Crevan is going to partition the sitting room next to ours. Now if only we could agree to a name! You must help me.”
Raelynd practically radiated with happiness. Regarding her own situation, Meriel was not sure what made her happier—that she was going to have a baby or that she finally knew why she had been so tired and sick. Her mind was still reeling with the knowledge that she was indeed pregnant. The concept of motherhood was still beyond her grasp.
Michele Sinclair - [McTiernays 05] Page 32