Medieval Highlands 01 - Highland Vengeance

by K. E. Saxon

  Drumming her fingers now, Maryn saw a movement out of the corner of her eye and looked toward it.

  Jesslyn did a quick shake of her head.

  Maryn shrugged, giving her friend a questioning look.

  Jesslyn leaned across the table and whispered, “‘Tis no use, he’s totally oblivious to me—and anyone or anything else, it seems, that has naught to do with the security of this keep. I think we can safely mark him from our list.”

  “Aye.” Disappointed, Maryn and Jesslyn finished their meal in silence. The two men were still in hot debate when the women left the table an hour later.

  *

  The next morn, Maryn met Lady Maclean on the stairs as she came down for the morning meal. “Good morn—we missed you last eve. Were you unwell?” Maryn said, worried.

  “My goodness no, lass. I find that the older I get, the less I like the noise of the great hall while I eat. I much prefer a quiet meal in my chamber, and my appetite is not what it was when I was younger. I hope my lack of hospitality does no injury to your feelings?”

  “Nay”—a loud boom came from the floor below, startling both of them—“what was that?” Turning back to Lady Maclean, Maryn said in a rush, “You must return to your bedchamber, there may be a threat to the holding.”

  Lady Maclean nodded. “Be careful, lass.”

  “Aye, fear not.”

  Lady Maclean turned and began ascending the few steps to the landing.

  Assured of the older lady’s safety, Maryn flew down the stairs and came to a sudden stop, her heart leaping into her throat. There, leaning against the portal of the keep’s flung-wide door, was Callum MacGregor. Does he hate me? She had, after all, been the cause of his downfall.

  *

  Callum’s tortured heart raced at the sight of his most secretly cherished desire. Quickly recovering, he put on his charmer’s facade, giving her a crooked smile. “Ah, Lady MacLaurin—or is it Maclean? Will you not welcome me in after such a long absence?”

  Thankfully, his easy manner calmed the trepidation he’d seen in her eye a moment ago and she smiled at him. “‘Tis MacLaurin,” she replied pleasantly. “Welcome home, Callum. But where is your mother?” She craned her neck to look behind him. “I thought she was to return with you.” Before he could answer, she turned and took a step toward the great hall. “Does she break her fast?”

  Callum waylaid her by interjecting, “Nay, Mother remains at the MacGregor holding. It seems she’s betrothed herself to another of that clan and they’re to be wed in a fortnight. I traveled here to tell Grandmother of her daughter’s coming union.”

  Callum was jolted by the feel of a firm hand on his shoulder that shuffled him aside. Whipping his head around, he saw a rusty-haired behemoth striding with great purpose around him and into the entryway.

  “Do come in, cousin,” the man said as he took his place at Maryn’s side.

  Turning his gaze on the behemoth’s narrowed, suspicious stare—clearly, he’d seen Callum’s covetous gaze on Maryn—Callum straightened and moved forward into the entry of the keep and with an affable grin, he said, “I’m happy to meet you at last. My grandmother—er, our grandmother—told me of you when I was but a bairn.”

  *

  Studying the two relations, now standing face-to-face, Maryn was immediately struck by the differences in them. While both had auburn hair and green eyes, Daniel had a much more muscular build; Callum’s being strong, but wiry. The younger man, though tall, was an inch or two shorter than her husband. And Daniel’s rugged male beauty starkly contrasted the seemingly flawless, almost boyish, features of Callum’s countenance. Tho’ she had always understood the other lasses’ attraction to the young Maclean grandson, she found her husband’s looks much more appealing.

  “The two of you should go into the great hall and get acquainted.” she said to Daniel. Then, turning to Callum, she said, “I shall bring Grandmother Maclean down; she will be so pleased that you’ve returned home.”

  Callum bussed her on the cheek. “I’m pleased to see you again.”

  Flustered, Maryn nodded and then turned to hurry up the stairs.

  *

  “I like not your over-friendly greeting of my wife, cousin. Keep your hands off of her in future,” Daniel told him with a scowl a moment later.

  Determined to keep the state of his heart under lock and key and having no desire to make an enemy of his cousin, Callum grinned, raising both hands, palms out, in a gesture of innocence, “I meant no offense. Maryn and I have known each other most of our lives. ‘Twas merely a polite peck I bestowed, naught more.”

  His cousin gave a grunt of disbelief, but said, “Go into the great hall, I’ll pour us some ale.”

  The men spent a very awkward, and silent, quarter-hour in that chamber awaiting Maryn and Lady Maclean. Daniel, warily eyeing his cousin in an attempt to take his measure, and Callum stoically ignoring the rude perusal and slowly wandering about the room.

  *

  When Lady Maclean at last entered, Callum released a mental sigh of relief. He grinned broadly at her as she walked toward him.

  “My dear lad, ‘tis so good to have you home again,” she said as she stood before him.

  Callum leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Gran, you look lovely as always.”

  “You’re a charmer, you are.” She pressed her finger into his chest then and gave him a steady look. “Watch yourself.”

  Tho’ his grandmother was well aware of his feelings for Maryn, Callum chose to bluff his way through. Shrugging, he laughed and tossed back some of the ale Daniel had poured for him. “This is the greeting I receive? I’ve barely been home half an hour, and the lectures have already begun. And yet, I’ve come bearing glad tidings of your daughter—she’s to wed my uncle, Laird Chalmers MacGregor, in a fortnight, and we are to attend—if you are up to the journey.”

  His grandmother stood motionless, gaping at him.

  Maryn took his distressed grandmother by the elbow and maneuvered her over to a stool next to the place Daniel now stood glaring at him. “Come, Daniel, Callum, please have a seat,” Maryn said.

  After the two men were settled, his grandmother turned to him, saying, “I cannot believe my daughter is marrying again, and with hardly any warning! I know she and Chalmers have always gotten on well together, but the two of you have only been at the MacGregor holding for a bit over a moon. How did this come about?”

  “As you say, Mother and Uncle Chalmers have always amused each other.” With a sigh, Callum shrugged. “I suppose that since his wife died this year past, my uncle has been lonely—and you know that Mother’s been lonely since Father’s death. Although it has been difficult to see the two of them together, I’m sure ‘tis simply a case of need meeting opportunity.”

  His grandmother visibly relaxed, nodding her head in acceptance of the explanation.

  In hopes of breaking through the tension in the room, over the next minutes Callum regaled the two ladies with tales of the follies surrounding the hasty planning of the wedding.

  “My uncle sends his regards to you, cousin,” Callum turned to Daniel and said after a time. “He was happy to learn that the MacLaurins no longer considered the Macleans their enemy, which means his service as one of your liaisons is no longer needed.”

  “Aye,” Daniel’s reply to him was as chilled as hoarfrost.

  A bit disarmed by his cousin’s continued frosty attitude, Callum cleared his throat and turned back to his grandmother. Grinning, he said, “Have you yet heard of the mischief the ol’ MacDougal’s wife caused him when she learned he’d wagered her cleaning services—and lost—in a drunken game of dice?”

  *

  Daniel studied his young cousin. Was this man enemy or ally? His gut told him that the man was pretending, and to be wary. Did he plan to provoke unrest in the clan now that he’d returned?

  “She soaked her husband’s best leather boots in pig urine!” Callum said.

  Daniel stood up. �
��I must return to the training field. I’m sure Derek is wondering at my absence.” He bent down and, taking his wife’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, placed a tender kiss on her lips. In a lowered voice he said, “I’ll see you in a couple of hours, my love.”

  She smiled and nodded.

  He turned then and strode from the hall. It pained him to leave his wife in the same room with his overzealous cousin, but he’d ignored his duties too long as it was. Besides, he trusted his grandmother to curtail any untoward advances.

  *

  Callum shot to his feet. “Pray pardon me, fair ladies, but I need to speak with my cousin in privy,” he said and then quickly followed Daniel out, not waiting for either woman’s reply.

  He caught up with him in the courtyard. “I’d like to train with you, as I’ve missed the exercise these past sennights. Any objections?”

  With eyebrow raised, his cousin gave him a measuring glare. “Nay.”

  *

  “Callum is so changed, Grandmother Maclean,” Maryn said later as they sat in the solar working on a large tapestry together.

  “Aye, he’s at last grown into the man he was meant to be,” Lady Maclean replied, pride in her voice. “I had seen some difference in him directly after he lost his position as laird, but now, there is more—‘tis as if he not only realizes his mistakes, but now wants to repair them.” She smiled. “And the visit to his father’s clan seems to have lightened his spirits as well, if his earlier good mood is any indication.”

  Maryn nodded. “Mmm. But he does seem a bit piqued by his mother’s planned marriage to his uncle.”

  “Aye, that he does,” Lady Maclean agreed. “He no doubt still feels the loss of his father, and resents any man taking that place in his mother’s life.”

  They sewed in silence for a time, enjoying the warmth of the sun that so brightly shone through the windows onto their hands and laps.

  “‘Tis certain, my father will be amazed by Callum’s alteration,” Maryn said finally. “I confess, he’s not had high thoughts of Callum since his attempt to blackmail him into allowing a marriage between us.” Lifting her eyes from her needlework, she looked at the older woman and said, “Daniel was rather rude to him, as if he expected some mischief from Callum, did you notice?”

  Lady Maclean nodded. “‘Tis his duty to be suspicious. His first obligation is to his clan’s safety. If he does not plan for the worst, he too easily might be caught unawares.” After pulling the needle and dark blue thread through the cloth, she rested the piece in her lap. “Tho’ in the case of Callum, I think he over-worries.”

  “I pray you are right.” For her husband needed his family, that much had become plain to her these past sennights. And because she loved him, and had always liked Callum, she wanted the two cousins to be friends.

  *

  Ranald Lawson, keep steward and Daniel’s second choice for Jesslyn’s hand, sat gazing calf-eyed at his quarry. Maryn was appalled by the way he watched with avid interest each minute movement that her friend made, offering her first the communal chalice, and then, one by one, every gustatory delight placed before them. ‘Twas clear to Maryn that, tho’ the steward was a perfectly pleasant, agreeable sort, he was much too solicitous for a woman of Jesslyn’s temperament.

  She was beginning to think that her husband and his grandmother had made one too many trips to the buttery as they compiled their list of candidates. Ranald was at least fifteen summers older than Jesslyn, with a paunch and thinning brown hair. This was not the image of a suitable mate that Maryn had been entertaining for her lovely friend.

  Just then, Jesslyn, clearly at the end of her patience with her devoted admirer, shot a squint-eyed look in Daniel’s direction, no doubt imagining him roasting on a spit with an apple in his mouth and Maryn bit back a grin.

  Steward Ranald, evidently worried that he’d lost his fair companion’s attention, sought to restore it by tipping the edge of the silver chalice to her lips. “Have another draught of wine, m’lady?”

  Since the purple liquid would have spilled down the front of her saffron gown otherwise, her friend took a large gulp of it and then coughed into her hand. “My thanks, Steward Ranald,” she said, her voice strained, “that was most kind of you. Now, I believe I’ve had enough wine for this eve.” She pressed the vessel back into his hands. “Please, do enjoy the remainder.”

  “Steward Ranald,” Maryn rushed to say, “you simply must explain the unusual method you use to account for our stores.”

  The man turned, and with a jovial smile, said, “Ah! ‘Tis easy enough to ken, once you know the underlying principles. The first thing you must learn is…” And then he proceeded to give a very long, and very dull, explanation of his accounting system.

  Jesslyn mouthed a thank-you to her for providing the reprieve and settled back on her stool, a relaxed expression o’erspreading her countenance for the first time that evening, which gave Maryn a deep sense of satisfied pleasure.

  *

  “How comes it that you share a trencher with the round steward? I would have gladly split mine with you.” Jesslyn felt each whispered word as warm puffs of breath on the shell of her ear. She turned and looked at Daniel’s young cousin. She’d only just met him, but was intrigued by his rather pleasing aspect and smooth manner. “I’m to find a husband, by Daniel’s decree, and I’m simply using the evening meal to weigh the suitability of potential mates.”

  “By Daniel’s decree? By what right does he force a marriage on you?”

  Jesslyn bristled. “By three rights: First,”—she lifted her hand and began counting off as she spoke—“Daniel promised my husband as he lay dying on the battlefield that he would take care of me and my bairn. Second, he has been a very dear friend of mine for years and I trust his judgment. Third, he broke our betrothal in order to wed Maryn and now wants to see me secure, and my bairn with a father.”

  *

  So, Callum fumed, he had not been a suitable prospect for Maryn’s hand in Laird Donald’s eyes—even though he’d loved her for years. But Daniel, a complete stranger—and one who evidently had no qualms about reneging on his promises—was found to be worthy of her hand. The injustice of the situation made him truly outraged for the first time since meeting his cousin. He reclined back on his stool and regarded Jesslyn with a frown. “And who are these candidates that my cousin has so generously found? Other than the steward, of course.”

  “This is truly no concern of yours. And, frankly, I find your questions a bit offensive,” she said, turning away from him.

  Immediately realizing his blunder in allowing his feelings to show, Callum leaned toward her, allowing his upper arm to lightly tease hers as he said, “Please, m’lady, do not chide me so. For my queries were only out of a desire to be placed on the list myself.” The words, which he’d had no prior intention of saying, had slipped easily and smoothly from his tongue. But once said, he immediately saw the benefit of such a match. For both of them. After all, his heart was lost to Maryn, whom he’d never have, and this beautiful widow was clearly in need of a strong protector. With new purpose, Callum continued, “I was simply searching for clues as to how to go about such a feat. I confess, I’ve been smitten from the moment I first gazed upon you this eve.” He was not lying, he told himself. He had noticed her beauty and not only that, he had thoroughly enjoyed listening to her forestall the steward’s advances.

  She turned back to him then, a slow smile lighting her countenance. “You wish to be placed on the list to win my hand? Surely, you would prefer a younger, less encumbered, lady—if, in fact, you truly do wish to wed.”

  “Oh, I wish to wed, I assure you.” And mayhap, Callum thought, ‘twould help to heal his broken heart. Because he certainly liked the lady’s spirit and, if fortune was with him, he might, in time, learn to love her as well.

  “You are young and have wild oats yet to sow. Hardly the type of man I want fathering my son. You should take care with giving promises you may not be a
ble to keep.”

  His mind now resolved, Callum set about convincing her of his sincerity. Scanning her face as if memorizing every detail, he said fervently, “You are all that I desire. You are beautiful, graceful, spirited and kind. If you will but have me, I will pledge to you my troth.”

  *

  Jesslyn, having been cast aside by one man, ignored by another, and repelled by the last was now basking in the attentions of a very attractive male. And what was more, she’d never had such an ardent speech delivered to her. Why, even her beloved husband had not spoken so to her upon their introduction. Nay, he’d been much more forthright, she recalled now with a smile. He’d simply taken her by the hand and hauled her away from the other lasses standing around the well and then proceeded to kiss her senseless. And afterward, he’d brusquely informed her that they would wed. Longing pierced her heart and she sighed.

  Clearly her young suitor thought it was directed at him, because he grinned in satisfaction. “So, we shall wed. I will be a good husband to you,” he said to her then, “and a good father to your son.”

  Before she could talk herself out of it, Jesslyn nodded in agreement. “Aye, we shall wed, if you truly wish it.” After all, she told her chiding conscience, she’d met no other that she liked more. Besides, she felt comfortable with Callum—and he was good for her bruised pride. Mayhap, in time, she might even grow to care for him. For, ‘twas truth, he was handsome, amiable, intelligent, and came from a good family. What lady would dare say ‘nay’ to such a man as he?

  He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I shall speak to Daniel this eve, directly after supper,” he murmured before placing a soft kiss upon it.

  *

  Several hours later, Maryn was ready to use her slingshot on her husband. He’d finally made his way up to their bedchamber after having a long discussion with Callum and refused to tell her anything—he was much more intent on getting her out of her chemise. Jesslyn had confided to Maryn that Callum was going to speak to Daniel about wedding her, and now Maryn was anxious to hear whether her husband had agreed to his cousin’s request.