To Marry a Scottish Laird

by Lynsay Sands

  Saidh accepted the goblet and took a swallow, her eyes widening and mouth puckering with distaste. "Ew, nay, this is more bitter than I like. It tastes like . . ." She shook her head. " 'Tis off or something."

  "Do no' be a ninny, Saidh," Edith said with a faint smile. "It came from the same pitcher as the rest o' ours did and mine was fine. It can no' be so bad."

  "Nay? Then try it," Saidh challenged, holding out the goblet.

  Shrugging, Edith took it and swallowed some, wincing as she lowered the goblet. "My apologies. 'Tis bad."

  "Oh, heaven's, let me see," Garia said, sitting back on her heels and reaching for the drink. When Edith handed it over, she too took a drink, her face immediately twisting with displeasure. "Oh, aye, 'tis bad. But my drink did no' taste like this." She glanced toward the pitcher and shook her head, before handing back the goblet to Edith. Turning back to continue her work, she suggested, "Mayhap there was something in the bottom of the goblet ere we poured the cider in."

  "Mayhap," Saidh agreed and then tilted her head and asked, "Are ye feeling fine Joan?"

  "Hmm?" Joan glanced to her, slow to comprehend what she was asking.

  "Are ye feeling okay?" she asked. "Ye're rubbin' yer stomach."

  "Am I?" she asked faintly, peering down to see she was indeed rubbing her stomach. Why was she doing that? Joan wondered, and then realized that it was aching. No, not aching exactly, she decided. That was the wrong word. It was . . . she felt like she was going to heave up everything she'd consumed. What had she consumed? Oh, aye, she'd only had a bit of cider--

  "Joan, if ye want a straight hemline, ye must stop moving and--" Garia paused as she glanced up at her. Concern crowding her expression, she straightened slowly. "Joan?"

  Joan opened her mouth to assure her that she was fine, but before she could get the words out, darkness seemed to fall over her.

  Chapter 13

  "WHAT?" CAM ASKED WITH DISBELIEF, but didn't wait for the answer. Instead, he pushed past his brother to hurry up the keep steps, desperate to get inside and see Joan. "Where is she?"

  "Yer room," Aiden said, following hard on his heels. " 'Tis all right, Cam. Lady Annabel said she'll be fine. They all will."

  "They all?" Cam echoed with confusion as he threw open the keep doors and rushed inside. "Who all?"

  "Several o' the ladies fell ill at the same time," Aiden explained, moving up to his side as they hurried across the great hall. " 'Twas no' just Joan, Ladies Carmichael, MacCormick--"

  "I do no' ken who is who, Aiden," Cam interrupted with a frown. He hadn't bothered to get to know the prospective brides his mother had collected. He had a wife. Not that he would have been interested anyway. "How many o' them are ill?"

  "Three I think," Aiden answered, then frowned and said, "Nay, four." He seemed to count them out on his fingers as they started upstairs, and then nodded. "Aye, four. And Joan makes five, o' course."

  Joan was the only one that mattered as far as Cam was concerned. He was sorry the others were ill, of course. But they were nothing to him. Joan was his main priority. She was his wife and he had already begun planning a long future with her. It was what he'd been doing with his father all day. They'd ridden out to Inverderry, a castle along the coast and the smallest of the three castles belonging to the Sinclairs. A chatelaine had been running it for years now, but when his father had taken him there today, Cam had expected to be told that he and Joan were to move there and take it over. Instead, his father had announced that he was ready to slow down and carry less responsibility, and so was Cam's mother. His parents planned to move to Inverderry castle and leave him the responsibility of the main castle, while Douglas would tend to Dunlorna, the second largest of the three castles. Aiden would eventually get Inverderry, while their sister Aileen would inherit the Lansend House as her dower, though she would continue to live with their parents until she married.

  All the way back from Inverderry, Cam's mind had raced with plans for himself and Joan as Laird and Lady of Sinclair Castle. So it had come as something of a shock to arrive to learn Joan had been struck down by illness. She'd seemed healthy and well the last time he'd seen her, and had certainly sounded hale enough while caterwauling away at her lessons.

  "What made them ill?" Cam asked with a scowl as they stepped off the stairs and started along the landing.

  "I'm no' sure," Aiden admitted apologetically. "They just started dropping. Lady Annabel is tending them."

  Nodding, Cam pushed through the door to his chamber and came to a halt. Joan lay asleep on the furs on the bed, her face appearing almost colorless above the deep red gown she wore. Annella sat on the side of the bed with her and glanced to him when he entered.

  "Oh, Cam!" Annella stood, and offered an anxious smile. "Thank goodness ye're here."

  "How is she?" Cam asked, moving to the bedside.

  "Mother says she will be all right, but she has no' woken yet and three o' the other girls ha'e," Annella said worriedly.

  "Four of the other girls," Annabel said quietly as she entered the room. "Joan is the only one who is still asleep."

  "But she will wake, will she no'?" Cam said with a frown, settling on the side of the bed to peer at her pale face.

  "I believe so. But I think she drank more than the others," Annabel said with a frown. "Not enough to seriously harm her, though, I think."

  "Drank what?" Cam asked, turning to peer questioningly at the woman.

  "Cider," Annabel answered, moving up to the bed to peer over his shoulder at Joan. "They were hemming the gown she is wearing. I had a servant take up some pastries and cider and Joan complained hers tasted bitter. The other girls who fell ill tried it too. Joan may have had more than the others though. Murine thought she saw her drink from it twice, while the other girls only had one drink each."

  "Do ye ken what was in the cider?" Cam asked.

  "Her goblet was knocked over when the girls all began to faint and the other girls sent for a servant to clean it up. There was nothing left by the time I realized it was the only thing they'd all had and went looking for it," Annabel said on a sigh and shook her head. "But I think she will be fine too."

  "But ye do no' ken for sure?" Cam asked.

  "Nay," Annabel admitted unhappily, concern creasing her face as her gaze shifted to Joan. "I wish I knew what was in her cider."

  "It was only in her goblet?" Cam asked with a frown.

  "Apparently," Lady MacKay said with a shrug. "At least hers was the only one that tasted bitter according to the girls. But they all drank from the same pitcher."

  "So it was no' in the pitcher, but her goblet specifically?" Cam murmured, turning his gaze back to Joan.

  "Aye," Annabel said heavily. "I had come to that conclusion myself."

  Cam's mouth tightened and then he asked, "How many girls left today?"

  "As your mother hoped, the Sutherlands, MacLeods and Frasers received her messages yesterday and came for their daughters today. They stayed for the nooning meal and then all left early this afternoon."

  "Lady Sinclair was going to give us each one o' their rooms, but Mother said nay," Annella told him, bringing Cam's head around with alarm.

  "I thought it was only fair that your brothers get their rooms back, so I had her put my daughters and I together in one chamber until another is available for the girls to share," Lady MacKay said soothingly. "Our things have already been moved to the room Lady Fraser was using and yours have been returned up here. So at least you can stay here with Joan now."

  "Thank ye," Cam said on a relieved sigh and turned to peer at his wife, thinking that his brothers would be glad to get out of the barracks as well. He was certainly happy to know he would be able to stay here with Joan. At least he would be, were he certain she would recover from whatever it was she and the other girls had drank.

  "Mother?"

  Cam glanced past the woman to the door she'd left open. Kenna stood there, uncertainty and worry on her face as she peered at Joan.

/>   "Aye, dear?" Annabel asked, moving to her daughter.

  "One o' the ladies asked me to fetch the red dress. She said they want to hem it," Kenna said quietly. "They thought it would be nice if 'twas ready for Joan to wear when she wakes up."

  "Oh." Annabel glanced to Joan, and then nodded and moved to the bedside. "Aye, that would be nice."

  Cam stood at once to help with the effort and with the two of them working, quickly slid the gown off Joan and tucked her under the linens and furs.

  "Here you go, dear," Lady Annabel said, laying the gown in her daughter's arms. "Thank the ladies for us. I am sure Joan will appreciate having a gown of her own to wear."

  Nodding, Kenna turned and rushed away. Lady Annabel turned back toward the bed, but paused when she noted Annella still there. "There is no need for you to sit with her anymore, sweetling. Why do you not go take Kenna outside for some fresh air? You have both been stuck inside, helping to watch over the ladies for hours."

  Annella hesitated, her gaze sliding to her cousin, but then she nodded and silently left the room.

  "They are both such good girls," Lady Annabel said with a smile as she watched her daughter go. "I am very blessed."

  "Aye," Cam agreed as he moved to the chairs by the fire. He carried one back for her, and then returned for the other for himself and they settled down to watch over Joan.

  They were both silent at first, but after a moment Lady Annabel shifted in the chair on the other side of the bed and said, "Campbell?"

  He stiffened at once. Being called Campbell rather than the shortened Cam usually indicated he was in trouble or about to get a lecture of some sort or other. Raising his gaze warily to the woman, he said, "Aye?"

  "Did Ross force you to marry Joan?"

  He blinked in surprise at the question, as well as the worry on the lady's face. "Nay," he said finally. "I wanted Joan to come with me to Sinclair even before I knew she was your niece."

  "Wanting her to come as your mistress and having to marry her are not exactly the same thing, are they?"

  Cam flushed, his gaze shifting back to Joan. After a moment, he sighed and admitted, " 'Tis true. At first I was no' even considering wedding her. I ha'e been so determined no' to marry again that . . ." He shrugged. "But once I realized she was your niece, I kenned we had to marry e'en before Ross said anything to me."

  "So you did marry her only because she was my niece," Annabel said, sounding sad at the knowledge.

  "Nay," he assured her, and then frowned and admitted, "Mayhap. I am no' sure. When I realized she was yer niece, I was glad. I thought, Ah ha! Now she'll ha'e to marry me and come to Sinclair."

  "So you were pleased to get your way?" she suggested slowly.

  "Aye." Cam grimaced as he heard how that sounded. "It was no' just getting me way that made me happy. I wanted her with me." He paused and then shook his head and said, "But she did no' want that. When I asked her to come with me, she did no' just say no to me. She said she did no' want to." The memory made him scowl at the unconscious woman.

  "You were hurt," Lady Annabel said slowly, realization dawning on her expression.

  Cam straightened in his seat and shrugged carelessly, unwilling to admit it.

  Lady MacKay was silent for a moment and then said, "Joan told me that when you asked her to come with you, she wanted more than anything in the world to say yes."

  He stilled, even his heart seeming briefly to stop, and then Cam sat forward again, asking, "But then why did she say she did no' want to?"

  Lady Annabel smiled apologetically. "I can not betray her trust and tell you that. I fear you will have to wait until she is ready. I only told you that she wanted to come with you because I feared thinking she did not want to would affect how you act with her." She paused and then said solemnly, "Just as her thinking that you only married her because you were forced to by circumstance is no doubt affecting her actions around you."

  Cam sat back, understanding sliding over him. He would have liked to say that thinking Joan didn't really want to be here hadn't affected his behavior around her, but he knew that wasn't the case. In truth, other than their nighttime trysts, he had been avoiding her. Oh, he'd made a couple of desultory efforts to see her during the day, but had quickly given in when other things had intervened. Between her lessons and his responsibilities here he had found it easy to avoid time alone with her. But they had spent every moment together during the journey here, talking and laughing and working together, and if not for that one moment in time when he'd asked her to accompany him to Sinclair and she'd refused, Cam knew he would have been doing any and everything he could to ensure that continued. Or, at least, that he was able to spend as much time with her as possible, if not alone, then in the company of others but with her at his side.

  For instance, he would have liked her to have been with him today for the journey to Inverderry with his father, and no doubt would have used the excuse that it was a perfect chance to teach her to ride away from the keep and others as the reason. Instead, he hadn't even suggested it.

  Cam had also been letting people and things come between them since she'd said no to him. When they had realized that Annella and Kenna had given away that he and Joan were to marry, he had let Ross send him away, instead of insisting he talk to her himself. The night of their wedding, he'd delayed going above stairs until Ross had finally said something, and then once he had gone up, he'd made sure there was no time to speak, kissing her every time she'd opened her mouth for fear she would say something he didn't want to hear. And in the morning, he'd left her sleeping rather than wake her and possibly have to talk.

  Once here he had continued this behavior, allowing her to be separated from him and sleep with her aunts and cousins. Cam knew if not for those couple of moments in the clearing outside MacKay, he would have insisted they set up a temporary sleep chamber in the solar, or that he and Joan could make do with one of the few empty cottages on Sinclair land for a couple nights, or even stay at one of their other castles rather than be separated.

  Mind you, he couldn't go without making love to her. Cam had dragged her off each night to do that, but he'd also made sure she didn't get the chance to talk each time he did. And then he was up early in the mornings, breaking his fast before the others and off in the bailey ere she could possibly wake.

  If his own behavior had been affected by thinking she didn't want to be with him, how would hers have been altered by thinking he had only married her because he had to?

  He glanced to Lady Annabel. "Ye're sure she wanted to come with me?"

  "She said she wanted desperately to go with you," Annabel told him solemnly. "That she had never been so happy as she was during those two weeks with you."

  Cam let his breath out slowly and then glanced toward the door Annella had left open as he became aware of the increasing noise coming from the great hall. "It sounds as if they're gatherin' for the sup. Ye should go below and eat."

  Annabel hesitated, but then stood. "You will let me know when she wakes?"

  Cam nodded silently, his gaze moving back to his wife as he began to sort out what he should say to her when she woke up. Those two weeks traveling with her to Scotland had been the happiest of his life too, and he had also wanted desperately for her to come here with him. But then he'd said as much, it was she who had refused. Cam didn't know why she'd said she didn't want to come with him, but perhaps if he asked she would explain. And perhaps they could sort this all out and they could return to the easy, happy relationship they'd had before those moments in the clearing at MacKay.

  Campbell considered several different approaches to the talk he wanted to have with Joan as he sat watching over her, but eventually the late nights and early mornings caught up to him and he began to nod off in the chair. When he woke up some time later, it was to find his mouth dry as stone, his chin covered with drool, and his neck sore from sleeping sitting up.

  Grimacing, he rubbed a hand around the back of his neck, trying to
ease the crick there, then let his hand drop and glanced to Joan. The fire had burned down to glowing embers, and the candle on the bedside had burned down so that it was now a puddle of wax with a weak flame flickering and about to sputter out. It was enough light for him to see that she was still sleeping, but that was about it. He needed to fetch another candle and build up the fire if he didn't want to sit in the dark.

  Yawning sleepily, Cam stood and moved quietly out of the room. In the hall, he walked to the railing to peer down into the great room below. He'd intended to get the attention of one of the servants and have them fetch him a fresh candle, but the great hall was silent and still, the fires burning down, leaving the room nearly dark. Despite that, Cam could see the servants sleeping on pallets on the floor below. It was late enough that everyone had retired. How long had he slept?

  A yawn interrupted this concern and Cam debated simply returning to his room, crawling into bed and sleeping, but Joan hadn't woken yet and he wanted to be there for her when she did. He wanted to be awake though, not sound asleep beside her, so he continued toward the stairs, pausing there to glance further along the hall when one of the doors opened.

  Squinting in the dim light, Cam tried to see who it was, but could tell little more than that it was a woman until she stopped at one of the guttering torches and lit a candle he hadn't noticed she carried with her. When she then turned and continued toward him, the candle held up before her, Cam recognized Lady MacFarland. Not wanting to deal with her, he turned to continue on his way.

  "Campbell."

  Surprised as much that she'd used his first name as that she'd called out to him at all, Cam stopped and turned slowly to wait for her, sure he was going to regret it.

  JOAN'S HEAD WAS POUNDING WHEN SHE WOKE. Grimacing, she sat up, blinking when she realized she was in the bed. Wondering what she was doing there and where her aunt and cousins were, Joan started to get out of bed only to freeze when she realized she was naked.

  Dropping back on the bed, she pulled the linen around herself and tried to recall how she'd got this way, but the throbbing in her head wasn't helping with that endeavor. Letting go of the matter for the moment, Joan hesitated, but then tugged the linen out from under the furs and wrapped it around herself, tucking the end into the front to secure it as she stood up.