The Thorn & the Thistle

by Julie Moffett

  Megan caught the inference and blushed as Rolf led her to the table. He permitted her to slide onto the bench before slipping in beside her. At his close proximity, Megan was reminded of their last dinner together at this table. Except somehow, tonight seemed different. The tension of their first confrontation was gone and in its place was an uneasy but standing truce.

  As Megan looked around, her spirits could not help but be lifted as she saw this great room restored to its grandeur. Why he had gone to such trouble to set her at ease, she did not know. She only knew that this unpredictable Englishman never ceased to amaze her.

  Megan stole a glance at him, marveling at how impeccably he had dressed. Clad in a dark blue waistcoat that fit snugly across his shoulders and a ruffled white shirt, he was devastatingly handsome. His gleaming black hair had been brushed back from his face and tied at the base of his neck with a velvet ribbon. He even wore an elegant silk neck cloth, although he repeatedly pulled on it, clearly uncomfortable with the fit of the fabric around his neck. A smile rose to her lips at the thought that this formidable man could be bothered by a simple piece of material.

  “Why all the formalities tonight? Ye look a wee bit restless in your finery.”

  Rolf’s hand froze over his neck cloth before he broke out in laughter. “You have a sharp eye. I’m afraid that I have never been one for fashion. But you, on the other hand, look absolutely enchanting.”

  His gaze on her face was warm and appreciative, yet his eyes held an emotion she could not read. Flushing, she brushed a stray strand of hair from her brow. “Och, well despite your discomfort, ye look rather grand yourself, Englishman.”

  Rolf grinned at her and the awkwardness between them lessened. “I would like to propose a toast.” He reached for the wine and poured it into their glasses.

  Megan looked at him, accepting the glass he handed her. “To what are we toasting?”

  “To peace.”

  Their eyes locked and held before he lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. After a moment, Megan did the same.

  “To peace,” she murmured.

  At that moment, Abigail and two young men entered the room, carrying several trays. Abigail set one of the trays on the table and lifted the cover, displaying a rack of roast venison.

  “Absolute perfection,” Rolf commented as she held it close for his inspection.

  Megan nodded in anticipation, her mouth watering from the delicious aroma. “Aye, ’tis one o’ the few times I can say that I completely agree wi’ ye, Englishman.”

  Abigail beamed as she bustled about, piling their plates with food. “Now see that you eat some of this fare. You’ll offend my pride if you leave anything on your plate.”

  Rolf looked over at Megan and winked. “I’ll warn you in advance that it is not wise to offend Abigail’s delicate sensibilities.”

  Megan saw the bright twinkle in his eye and smiled. “Somehow I sense that ye may well have done that once or twice in the past.”

  Abigail glanced affectionately at Rolf. “Oh, my lady, he was a lively child. He was curious, reckless and always chasing after something. It put an awful strain on my old heart, it did. It’s a wonder I lived to see him grown.”

  Rolf chuckled. “Don’t believe her, Megan. She put the fear of God in me with her stern frown and an occasional threat of the switch. But it’s God’s truth that I never missed a meal.”

  Abigail and Megan both burst into laughter.

  Sweeping up an empty plate, Abigail gave Rolf a fond pat on the shoulder and withdrew, taking the two young men with her.

  As soon as she was gone, the two set upon the meal. Megan savored every bite, remembering the nights she could only dream of such fare. Rolf filled both wineglasses twice as he steadily worked his own way through the pile on his plate. Finally, he set aside his knife, sighing with pleasure. Leaning his elbows on the table, he studied her as she tore off a piece of bread and put it in her mouth.

  “Abigail seems to have taken to you,” he commented.

  Megan looked up in surprise. “Do ye really think so? I’m afraid she didn’t like me much at first.”

  Rolf laughed. “It’s not terribly surprising, considering you tried to skewer me like a roast pig.”

  “I suppose I can’t blame her. She does seem to be quite fond o’ ye.”

  “She is as close to a mother as I have.” He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I implicitly trust her judgment, especially on women.”

  Megan blushed, enjoying the warm clasp of his fingers. “’Tis much she doesn’t know about me.”

  Rolf smiled. “She knows enough...as do I.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Have you ever wanted to see London, Megan?”

  “London? Why would ye wonder about such a thing?”

  Rolf shrugged. “Simple curiosity, I suppose.”

  Megan thought of the gallows that awaited her, and her fingers reached up to touch her neck. “I don’t know. Perhaps under certain circumstances, a journey to London might be considered interesting.”

  “I see the question troubles you. Do you worry that I’ll force you to view your father’s execution?”

  “I never know what to expect from ye next, Englishman.”

  “I would not put you through such an ordeal, Megan. I’ve become rather fond of you.”

  At his unexpected confession, Megan withdrew her hand from his and placed it on her lap. “’Tisn’t wise to reveal such things to your opponents, Englishman.”

  Rolf took a sip of his wine. “I have decided that I no longer wish for us to remain opponents.”

  She flashed him a puzzled look as he slid out from behind the table and stood. His dark brows drew together in concentration while his fingers toyed with one of the flap pockets on his waistcoat. As he stood there, a sudden draft of air swept through the chamber causing the fire to flicker behind him. Shadows danced eerily across the walls and the chill sent goose flesh skittering across Megan’s bare neck and shoulders.

  “There have been some rather unusual developments since my discovery of your identity as the daughter of the Black Wolf,” he said.

  Megan stiffened, fear and anxiety knotting inside her. “What kind o’ developments?”

  Rolf’s eyes became sober and serious. “Frankly, I’m not certain the best way to tell you this, Megan. I know it may come as a bit of a surprise, but the king has declared you his ward.”

  Megan stood up, nearly knocking over her half-full wineglass before removing herself from the bench. “His what?”

  “I know this seems rather sudden, but it is actually rather a reasonable move on the part of the king.”

  “Reasonable? Ye tell me that I’ve suddenly gone from being your prisoner to a ward o’ the king and you expect me to view this as reasonable?”

  “As your father is engaged in illegal activities against the Crown, you have been left without proper protection or guidance. You should be honored that the king has taken an interest in your welfare.”

  Megan’s fists clenched at her side, heat flooding her face. “How dare your King presume to know what kind o’ protection and guidance I need.”

  Rolf’s voice hardened. “He has the right to presume whatever he wishes. Moreover, he has instructed me to go forth with certain plans for your future.”

  Megan took a startled step backwards. “What kind o’ plans?”

  “He has commanded me to wed you to Edwin Farrington.”

  Megan managed to gasp once before a hand seemed to close around her throat, choking off the air to her lungs. A tremble shot through her body. “I would rather die first.” Her hands were shaking. “He is the vile man that murdered my brother.” And my father.

  Rolf moved forward, gripping her by the shoulders. “Ease yourself, Megan.”


  She only stared at him with horrified eyes until he shook her again, this time hard. “Listen to me. If you do not wish it, I will not force you to wed Farrington. Do you hear me?”

  Megan closed her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath. “Ye would dare to disobey your King?”

  Rolf sighed, shaking his head. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple. However, I have petitioned him for another course of action. Today, I received word that he approves of my request.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rolled parchment.

  Megan’s heart began to race as she opened her eyes and focused onto the curled paper in his hand. “What request?”

  Rolf tapped the parchment against the top of his gloved hand. The sound beat a dreadful tune in step with the fierce pounding at Megan’s temples.

  “It is rather simple, really. I asked the king for permission to wed you in place of Edwin Farrington. He has graciously agreed to my proposal.”

  Megan’s mouth dropped open in sheer astonishment. She tried to speak but found her voice frozen in her throat.

  At her shocked expression, Rolf’s lips formed a wry smile. “I can see you are overcome by emotion at my proposal. However, I urge you to think calmly about what I’ve said and not reach any hasty conclusions.”

  “Ye? Marriage to ye? Have ye lost your mind?”

  Rolf took her arm, steadying her as she swayed on her feet. “It’s not only possible, it’s advisable. If you refuse to marry me, I’ll have no choice but to see you wed to Edwin Farrington.”

  Rolf helped her to her seat on the bench. Kneeling down in front of her, he took her cold hand into his. “You must marry me, Megan. It is the only way.”

  “Please, we must wait until we have an answer from my father. ’Twill be soon, I’m certain o’ it. Then there will be no need for any more talk o’ marriage.”

  The lines around Rolf’s mouth tightened. “The king’s command has nothing to do with my offer of amnesty and land to your clansmen. He wants you wed in order to secure English authority in this area after your father is gone. He thought that by having Farrington wed you, English claim to the land would be perfectly legal in the eyes of the Scots. He believes it would help settle tensions here.”

  “If I were forced to wed Farrington, ’Twould only set off a bloody feud within my own clan as well as those neighboring our land. Ye are right to believe that the man who marries me will have the strongest claim to the lairdship, but the people would never recognize Farrington as their laird, even wi’ me as his wife.”

  “I know. But they might recognize me.”

  “Ye?” Megan echoed in astonishment, the soft sound drifting away on the air.

  When he nodded, she pressed her fists against her temples.

  “God preserve me, but I’ve been such a fool. ’Twas all part o’ your grand plan, wasn’t it, Englishman? First ye tried to seduce me. Next ye discovered I was unwed. Then ye befriended the villagers, luring them into trusting ye. When ye had accomplished all that, ye made bold offers o’ land and pardons, handing out promises ye never meant to keep. Now ye make your bid for MacLeod land by threatening me wi’ a marriage to Farrington unless I wed ye. ’Tis a most brilliant plan, Englishman. I’ll at least give ye that.”

  A sudden anger lit Rolf’s eyes. “Do you really think that this is some kind of game? That I’ve created a magnificent scheme to trick you and the others into trusting me so I could collect a piece of land in the Highlands?”

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  “Damnation, woman. Need I remind you that this land and Castle Kilcraig already belong to me? I don’t need to wed you or anyone else to have legal claim to it. Besides, the king’s motives are far grander than that. He really does intend to bring peace to this area and I’ve offered to be his instrument in doing so.”

  “Och, ’tis a noble sentiment, Englishman, but your fancy trickery won’t work wi’ me.”

  “I don’t need your permission to marry you, Megan. If I must, I will drag you bound and gagged before a man of the cloth, whether it be with me or Edwin Farrington.”

  She stiffened, her eyes blazing. “Ye wouldn’t dare. I’d no’ recite the vows.”

  “Your spoken acceptance of such a union is of little concern to me. Your mere presence would suffice.”

  “I find your threats to be most vile, Englishman.”

  Rolf’s eyes darkened. “They are not threats, Megan, but promises. Now, you can either agree to marry me or I will offer your hand to Edwin Farrington. Which shall it be?”

  Megan saw the hard determination in his stance. Anxious, she sought another method of discouraging him. “Please, I beg o’ ye no’ to insist on this mockery. I am certain my father will soon accept your terms.”

  Rolf folded his thick arms across his chest. “I’ve already explained that your father’s decision regarding my offer has no bearing on the king’s insistence that you wed. In spite of that, I can understand why your father might resist your wedding Farrington. However, I can hardly see why he would object to a union between the two of us. Other than the obvious drawback of my English heritage, you can’t tell me that he wouldn’t find some measure of comfort knowing that his only daughter would be well provided for once he is gone. Moreover, he would have the satisfaction of knowing that a MacLeod woman is once again mistress of Castle Kilcraig.”

  Megan tossed her head. “Have ye considered that I may object to marrying the man who seeks to end the life of my father?”

  “Your father knew the risk of engaging in illegal activities against the crown. Now he must pay the price. I do not make the laws, Megan. I seek only to ensure that his death will not be in vain. This is for your sake, as well as for all innocent people in that village.”

  Megan pressed a hand to her brow, trying to think above the pounding ache from behind her eyes. “’Tis more complicated than that, Englishman. I can’t explain it now, but ask only that ye wait until we have settled this matter wi’ the pardons and the land grants. I give ye my word that at that time, all issues will be resolved without a need for a hasty joining.”

  Rolf gripped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. “Why do you really hesitate to accept my proposal, Megan? Am I so loathsome to you?”

  His earnest question was an unexpected stab in her heart. “Nay, ye are far from loathsome. But ye must trust me when I say that if ye wed me, ’Twould be a terrible mistake ye’d be making.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t explain, at least no’ yet. But I promise ye that if ye insist on wedding me, ye’ll live to regret your decision for the rest o’ your life.”

  “Nonetheless, I intend to wed you just the same.”

  “Och, why are ye being so bloody stubborn?” She threw up her hands in despair. “Ye barely know me, yet ye wish to sacrifice yourself and your entire future? What do ye really want?”

  Rolf’s eyes darkened. “Let me make something perfectly clear. I am by no means sacrificing my future, Megan. On the contrary, I am strengthening it. The king was most pleased by my offer, confident that affairs in this area will finally be settled under my command. And now that I will again take a wife, the matter of providing an heir for the St. James line will be resolved as well. I’ve made no secret of my attraction to you and I am certain that in time, you’ll come to look upon me as something other than your enemy.”

  She looked at him in astonishment, crimson flames streaking across her cheeks. “Heir? How dare ye suggest such a thing? I will no’ be some kind o’ breeding mare for ye or your precious family line.”

  “My wife will share my bed.”

  “I won’t be your wife.”

  For a moment, they simply glared at each other, neither wanting to be the first to look away. Finally Rolf took a step back.

  “I presume
you would give Farrington the same answer.”

  Megan shuddered in reply.

  Exhaling a deep breath, he rose to his feet, clasping his hands behind his back. “Then, from what I can determine of this conversation, you will not consent to a wedding until this matter with your father is settled.”

  She looked up. “Aye. As soon as we have his answer, ye’ll realize how foolish this entire conversation has been.”

  “Then, tell me, Megan. Why are you so certain that the Wolf will accept my offers of land and pardons in exchange for his life?”

  Keeping her gaze on him steady, she raised her chin. “Because no one knows the Wolf’s mind as I do. I am certain he will accept your offer.”

  Rolf studied her for a moment before turning and walking over to the hearth. For some time he stood in silence, staring into the flames. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat and distant.

  “I’m afraid you don’t know your father as well as you think, Megan. Two days ago, I received word from the Wolf. He rejected my offers and demanded your immediate release. Therefore, I have decided to proceed with the wedding. As honor will not permit me to turn you over to a man like Farrington, I will wed you myself.”

  Megan gasped in stunned disbelief as her hand groped at the table for support. “Rejected?” Her mind whirled. “Ye must be mistaken.”

  Rolf turned to face her, an aloofness showing in his face. “Sadly, I am not.”

  She shook her head in dazed shock, as if she could not believe what she was hearing. How could Uncle Geddes have refused to carry out her instructions? It meant either he had lost control of the clan or someone was unduly affecting his decisions. Abruptly the answer came to her with the full force of a heavy blow to the stomach.

  Robbie. God’s mercy, it had to be Robbie.

  “Oh, nay.” She gasped in anguish, thinking of all she had lost. “What has he done?”

  Rolf’s jaw hardened at her words, thinking she referred to her father. “What he’s done, Megan, is seal your fate. Whether you like it or not, you will be wed to me by the end of next week.”