“You can’t mean to dance with the lass; she’s great with child!”
Killian smiled broadly at this. “Aye, well, I do indeed intend to dance with her and, aye, I’m aware she carries a child!” He leaned closer to the woman and whispered as he spoke the next bit, “I’m the man who planted the seed!”
“Och!” The woman’s ruddy colored cheeks darkened further and she huffed aloud, her continued disapproval evident, so Killian baited her and pushed the issue further still.
“And were all your six daughters a product of immaculate conception, then, Maire, or were they created in the usual way?”
“’Tis hardly proper to openly discuss such subjects with a lady, Killian O’Brien!”
“Well, I only wanted to ensure that you’ll not make my lovely wife feel shameful because she carries my child or shares my bed, for we are married so ’tis biblically acceptable, legal, moral, and entirely enjoyable!”
“Killian O’Brien! Enough of that talk!” Alainn scolded him harshly. “Maire, you look as though you could use a drink, come with me and we’ll find some cider.”
“I think whiskey might be preferential, Alainn!” the woman admitted as she fanned her rosy cheeks.
Alainn was torn between smiling and glowering at Killian as she took the stunned woman’s arm. But, even as they walked away from Killian, who wore a broad grin and a devilish glint in his eyes, she noticed Maire O’Donnel couldn’t keep her eyes from him.
“I swear the man could seduce the holy mother!” Maire spoke in a low tone more to herself than Alainn.
Alainn presumed the woman’s husband, Cormac, would be surprised to find his wife in an unusually amorous mood this night.
When Alainn returned to her husband’s side he chuckled again and took her in his arms. He placed a thorough kiss on her full lips and then did as he’d promised and danced every dance with his noticeably pregnant wife.
The feast had been delicious and the many male entertainers were undoubtedly talented. When Alainn espied her harp being carried to the center of the great hall, she questioned Killian with her eyes. He grinned a sly grin, but he did not answer. She noticed Danhoul heading toward her and he had his fiddle in hand. He took her arm and led her to where the harp now stood.
“Your husband insists we must play and sing for the guests. He didn’t tell you earlier for he knew you would fret about it and somehow find a way to decline. As it is, he knows you have little option.”
“But ’tis seldom women perform in the presence of nobility.”
“I believe your husband wants to show the nobles his wife is not only beautiful, intelligent, and educated, but unusually talented as well.”
“Aye, well, it would appear we are set to sing and play then. It’s been some time since the last time we sang together.”
“Then it was thought you were a peasant, now you are the grandest and loveliest of ladies, Alainn O’Brien.”
“Don’t make me more flustered than I already am for, in my heart, I will always feel like a commoner no matter that I live in a castle and I’m married to a chieftain, Danhoul.”
“Then you must imagine yourself back at the gatherin’ that night, singin’ for common-folk with no expectations but to hear the great natural gift of your voice.”
Alainn sat down upon the stool and gently strummed the harp while Danhoul expertly pulled the bow across the strings. The poignant Celtic melody filled the air and soon the two voices blended in a lovely rendition of an ancient Celtic song. A hush fell over the entire room as enormous and overflowing with people as it was.
Killian looked on and his eyes locked with Alainn’s. She smiled as though she sang only to him. When the song was completed, Danhoul bowed and Alainn nodded her head. When the crowd applauded and cheered in appreciation of the talent, Alainn smiled as the child within her kicked steadily in response. Killian came to take her hand and led her away from the center of the room to the seat beside him at the head table.
“You were remarkable, Alainn! You’ve the most angelic voice. And soon I will listen to you sing our son to sleep at night and I’ll have the good fortunate to listen to your lovely voice all my life, God willing.”
Soon the guests had begun to dwindle for the night grew late. Alainn found herself growing ever weary and in urgent need of slumber. Killian assured her it would not seem discourteous or improper if she made her way to their bedchamber. He claimed he would bid the few stragglers farewell, and he would soon join her.
When she had readied herself for bed and donned her nightdress, her stomach rumbled noisily in pangs of hunger, yet again. She would not be capable of sleep at any rate, not with the rumbling and the child squirming and kicking, clearly voicing his disapproval of her hungry state.
“I just ate mere hours ago, you wee imp.” She playfully scolded her unborn child, but reasoned if she went down the back stairs to the kitchen she would only see the few servants who might still be present in the kitchen, and surely even they would be gone soon for ’twas nearly the middle of night. As she pulled the shawl tightly around the nightdress knowing, how cool and drafty the corridors and stairwells of the castle were, most especially at night, she lighted a candle to take with her. She believed since she had recently uttered the spell of thirteen she would now be perfectly safe setting out alone.
As she made her way down the many winding steps, she heard voices coming from a small, nearly hidden alcove off the stairwell. She knew it was a man and woman speaking, but could not make out the voices or what they were saying. Although she had not actually intended on listening in on the conversation, when she finally discovered who the voices belonged to, she listened most astutely.
“You must go to your bed for clearly you’re filled with all too much drink!”
“Aye, I’ve had a good deal to drink, but ’tis not drink I would be filled with this night, if t’was my choice!”
“I will have a servant see you safely to your chambers for you’re liable to do harm to yourself for sure you can barely walk.”
“Tis no servant I want in my bed, but our chieftain!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Ciara, enough of that improper talk; I am a married man!”
“And I was married when last we were intimate. I see no difference, or no reason why we cannot resume what we once shared.”
“Ciara, I truly love my wife and intend to remain ever faithful to her. Sorry I am that you are alone and have suffered a tragic loss, but I’ll not be offerin’ you comfort in that manner, this night or any other!”
“You’ll soon her tire of her. And now that she is great with child, sure she can’t pleasure you as often or capably as you are accustomed.”
“Ciara, we are through speakin’ on this! Wait here while I send for a servant to take you to your chambers.”
“No, milord! You must not go, for I ache for you still. In these years that we have been parted there has not been a night that I did not burn for you and think of the most passionate times we shared together!”
Alainn could no longer contain her jealousy or her rage and when she stepped into the alcove, she saw the other woman attempting to kiss Killian though he kept her at arm’s length.
“If you do not distance yourself from my husband this instant, I swear your son shall be orphaned this very night!”
Killian turned and surely noticed the unmistakable jealous fury on Alainn’s face.
When Ciara made no attempt to move, Alainn held out her hand and the woman screamed in surprised outrage when a loud and forceful slap was heard and a raised red handprint formed on her cheek though Alainn had not stepped any closer to her. The woman’s eyes filled with disbelief, and her hand went to her cheek, but instead of showing fear, it was anger that encompassed her face and her cat-like eyes.
“You cursed witch!” Ciara shrieked.
Danhoul arrived in time to see Ciara lunge angrily toward Alainn. The candle Alainn held in her hand was knocked to the ground and the fla
mes caught her nightdress. Killian went to Alainn and hastily extinguished the flames, while Danhoul held back the other woman who apparently remained intent on getting to Alainn. When Killian successfully put out the flames with little damage done to Alainn’s skin, his relief was short-lived for he saw her fly furiously at Ciara and she raked her neck with her nails. Ciara screamed, clutched Alainn’s shawl and clawed at her nightdress. The garment was soon torn along with the skin on her arm, when Alainn grabbed a hearty handful of Ciara’s dark hair and pulled hard. The men managed with some difficulty to separate the two ill-tempered women.
Killian held tight to Alainn, and Dahoul did the same with Ciara. It was at that precise moment all present began to feel the ground shaking, and rumbling beneath them. Both men looked at Alainn for they were aware it was her causing the unusual and dangerous occurrence. Alainn seemed nearly oblivious of the shaking as she threatened the other woman.
“Should you ever attempt to take my husband to your bed again, you will be the sorriest wench in the land, for you’ll be made to deal with me! And though I sense you may claim some form of magical abilities, they fall drastically short of those which I possess. I promise you that! If you do not abide my words, I shall gladly reveal the extent of my powers.”
“Alainn, settle you down; you needn’t be so enraged, she’s filled with drink and doesn’t even know what she’s doin’, I’d wager!” Killian reasoned.
“That’s utter horse shite! She knows well enough, and she’s simply unscrupulous, untrustworthy, and promiscuous!”
“Danhoul, see Ciara to her chamber, for she’s clearly not fit to walk so consumed with drink is she at the moment!” Killian ordered.
“Aye, I’ll accompany her.”
“Be cautious, Danhoul, she is not to be trusted!” Alainn fumed as she spoke.
“And, in truth, you would not be so very eager to see him in my bed either.” Ciara slurred as she glowered at the chieftain’s wife.
“Well sure he’s one of the few men here in the entire county that hasn’t yet had you!” Alainn cattily retorted.
The dark-haired woman sneered at Alainn once more and it took a good deal of strength from both the large men to keep the two women from getting at one another again. When the ground began to shake yet again, Danhoul called out to Killian.
“Calm your wife, Killian, or she may bring the entire castle down upon our heads!”
Finally the younger man picked up the drunken woman and threw her over his shoulder. Her rude comments and furious protests could be heard for sometime as she was carried away.
Alainn remained so angry she shook from head to toe. She felt Killian’s hand on her arm and the tears streaming down her cheeks as a result of her hot temper.
“I want her gone from this castle straightaway!” she vehemently raged.
“Alainn, she is filled with drink, and both hurt and angry. She is trying to come to terms with her loss!”
“By taking my husband to her bed?”
“I don’t believe she really even knows what she’s doing entirely. And tomorrow she’ll surely be regretful if she should actually remember any of this!”
“Killian, if you attempt to make another excuse for her, I will see her not only gone from this castle, but from this realm!”
“I understand you are displeased and I’m not sayin’ you don’t have a right to be upset, but I ask you to please let this incident pass. Sure, she’s not accustomed to consumin’ so very much drink!”
“And the fact she attempted to harm me with fire; how do you explain that?”
“I don’t believe that was purposeful, Alainn.”
“And if someone attempted to harm you, the great chieftain, they would be tossed in the dungeon without question!”
“Ah, so now you don’t just want her gone from the castle, but thrown in the dungeon as well. And how would that look, do you suppose, if I had a widow with a young child, her husband barely cold in his grave, placed in the dungeon? Do you suppose I would earn the respect of the other servants or the villagers by so doing? I s’pose if you had your way she’d receive a lashing as well!”
“No, I don’t want to see her lashed unless ’tis I who can wield the whip! And if the flames had done damage to more than my nightdress would you feel even some of the fury I now feel?”
“Alainn, try to calm down. Come to our bed and let me hold you!”
He attempted to take her in his arms, but she would have no part of it.
“Lainna, ’tis you I want and no amount of persuasion by Ciara or any other woman will make me stray from you. If anythin’ this incident should make you more confident of that.”
They were interrupted when Danhoul cleared his throat to alert them to his return. They both noticed the many scratches upon his cheek.
“I have seen her safe to her chamber, not without a worthy battle,” He announced as he wiped away the trickle of blood from the fresh wounds. “Now you must calm your wife before her powers put the castle and its occupants in grave danger!”
“Don’t talk of me as if I am a child in need of disciplining!” She spewed.
“Alainn, be reasonable, Danhoul speaks the truth, your wee temper if you allow it to run rampant could be the death of the entire lot of us.”
She glared at her husband as she spoke. “Do you believe I want to feel this jealous rage; or that I welcome these damnable powers? Do you know what I would give to have them gone forever, to be allowed a life of normalcy?”
“Lainna?” Killian tried to take her in his arms once more, but she simply pulled away and headed up the narrow winding steps to their bedchamber.
The two men looked at each other with equal expressions of concern and frustration.
“You’d best find a way to dissipate her insecurities and appease her. Sure, you’re the only one who can do that now. I believe she is correct in assuming Ciara is not to be trusted. I sense there will be much discord between the two of them in the future. And the widow may have an unpredictable dark side to her you may not recognize or be allowed to see, for she is not without powers herself. ’Tis true they are nowhere near as immeasurable as those of your wife, but then I know of no one whose powers are like Alainn’s. Whether she wants them or not, she has them and in multitudes you or I and even the gods have not witnessed before!”
“Are you attemptin’ to cause me more fear and trepidation, Danhoul?”
“No, Killian, as a seer I am simply forewarnin’ you to be prepared for much unrest as long as the two of them remain anywhere in close proximity of each other!”
“I will take that under great consideration then, Danhoul! And now, I s’pose I’d best go to her and see what can be done to calm the woman.”
“Which one?” he sarcastically queried.
“My wife, you arse!”
“Good, see to you keep your distance from Ciara, you may be immune to Alainn’s magic, but the rest of us are not!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
After Alainn donned her garments the next morning, she gently rubbed a healing balm on her ankles. The burns were barely visible, only a few tiny reddened marks remained, but they stung fiercely. If she was just a woman and not a witch with fairy lineage, she was certain there would be little pain, but because she was a witch she was unnaturally susceptible to wounds caused by flame. And her temper still burned as fiercely as the reddened marks on her legs.
Killian was already gone from their bedchamber and she knew he was in a rare unruly disposition this morning as well. She had denied him the previous night; the only time since they’d become intimate, she had refused his advances entirely and stubbornly kept to her side of their bed. It was the first time she’d allowed her anger and jealousy to rule her emotions and her desires so completely. Killian was a man accustomed to getting his way, in his life and in his bed. And this morning he had worn a look of frustration and displeasure.
Now, some might think he was overly demanding to expect his wife to partake in
carnal activities in her advancing term, but they were both aware her desires remained nearly insatiable even though she carried a child. They had always shared a passion uncommon to most, she believed. Therefore, Killian knew well enough she had denied him physical love and pleasure only to punish him for defending Ciara. She knew how he felt regarding women who used their bodies as a way to either punish or reward their husband, and his disappointment was not so much in that he’d not been pleasured, but that she’d stooped to a measure he disagreed with.
When she made her way toward the kitchen, she stopped short realizing Ciara McCree was most certainly within the room. She used her powers of perception to confirm it. She hoped the troublesome woman had a throbbing headache and a putrid stomach from ingesting such quantities of ale. It rankled her to think she now felt uncomfortable entering the kitchen and she would not be likely to partake in her usual companionable morning conversation with her friend, Cookson. And she needed to procure her milk and honey mixture. As Eireen headed down the corridor toward the drawing room, Alainn stopped her.
“Eireen, might I ask a favor of you?”
“Certainly, milady, what is it you require?”
“Would you ask Cookson to come to me; I must speak with him?”
“Aye, milady!” The woman gave Alainn a questioning look, surely wondering why she had changed her morning routine and wouldn’t simply speak to the man behind the nearby door, but she did as she’d been instructed.
When Cookson came out only a moment later, he appeared mildly perturbed to be taken from his many duties.
“Alainn, what is it you need?” he asked in a hurried tone. She thought he still seemed sore with her for her harsh way of speaking with Ciara the previous morning, but she was thankful he did refer to her by her given name and not her title as he’d done then.
“Sorry I am to pester you, for I know how busy you are and what long hours you must keep in order to run your kitchen as efficiently as you do, but I must ask a small favor.”
A Chieftain's Wife Page 16