The Thorn & the Thistle

by Julie Moffett

  Chapter Nineteen

  “This is intolerable.” Megan paced back and forth across her bedchamber. “There must be a way to put an end to this madness.”

  She had been repeating the same phrase for days, yet no matter how she tried, she couldn’t think of a single reasonable settlement. Nearly a week had passed since Rolf’s shocking proposal. And although it was utterly inconceivable, unless a miracle happened tomorrow, she would be the new wife of English nobleman Rolf St. James.

  It was utter insanity.

  Saints help her, how had everything become so tangled and confused? She no longer had control of neither the clan nor their actions. Peace had been almost within her grasp. If only Uncle Geddes and Robbie had obeyed her, she would already have the signed land grants and pardons in her hands. Once they were distributed to the men, she would reveal her identity as the Black Wolf and the senseless fighting would be over. The villagers and the clan would be protected.

  But now she was left helpless and at the mercy of the English. How could she possibly wed Rolf St. James? If he uncovered her true identity and discovered it was she who plotted the raids against Farrington, would he still be honor bound to execute his own wife?

  Megan clasped her hands in front of her. Events were spiraling out of her control. There had to be a way to stop the ceremony.

  Pleading had not worked and reasoning with Rolf had been unsuccessful. From the very beginning, he had taken charge of the situation, making preparations and sending word to the village of his intentions. Several times Megan had almost blurted out the truth, hoping that he would still honor his word to provide amnesty and land to the men. But at the last minute she held her tongue, hoping that somehow she could extricate herself from this situation without giving away her secret and the only real advantage she had left with which to maneuver.

  She prayed. “Oh, please, God. There must be some way to end this peacefully. I ask for ye only to show me the way.”

  As if in answer, a sudden knock sounded on the door. Whirling around in surprise, Megan stared at it for several seconds before finding her voice. “Who is it?”

  “’Tis me, my lady,” Peter answered. “May I enter?”

  “Aye, o’ course.”

  The bolt was drawn from the outside of the door and Peter entered the chamber. Behind him followed the unmistakable form of Douglas MacLeary.

  Megan’s eyes widened when she saw the Scotsman. “Douglas.”

  Douglas turned to look at Peter. The older man dipped his head and withdrew, leaving the two of them alone.

  When the door was shut, Megan launched herself into Douglas’s arms. “By God, Douglas, ’tis good to see ye. How did ye manage to get permission to see me, and alone nonetheless?”

  The older man pulled away from her, adjusting the patch over his bad eye. “The Englishman granted our request to be permitted to see ye and know for ourselves that ye have agreed to this union of your own free will.”

  “My own free will? Why, the Englishman threatened to see me wed to Edwin Farrington if I did no’ accept his proposal. I would hardly say this constitutes free will.”

  A dark frown crossed Douglas’s face, his voice lowering. “Then ’tis imperative that we remove ye from this situation before ’tis too late.”

  Megan gripped his arm. “Why did Uncle Geddes refuse to accept the Englishman’s offers o’ land grants and pardons? If he had only agreed to them, none o’ this would be taking place.”

  “Your uncle no longer has control o’er the clans. When he told the men o’ your father’s demise and that ye had been acting as the Black Wolf in his place...well, the Chisholms were furious and the MacDonnells were none too pleased either. Still, I’m certain that all o’ them were secretly impressed wi’ your skill in leading the clans. ’Tis said that now the Chisholms’ eldest son wishes to take ye for his wife. Understandably, Robbie has protested such a union, insisting that ’tis your wish to be betrothed to him. ’Tis an awful mess, lass, and no one seems to be in command. As far as I know, three separate plans for your rescue are being plotted. All o’ which have their own goals in mind.”

  Megan sank into a chair, her hands covering her face. “Saints above, Uncle Geddes warned me o’ this very thing and I didn’t listen. I should have wed long ago, but my pride and stubbornness prevented me from doing so. Now look what I’ve done. I’ve torn asunder the union o’ men I fought so hard to bring together. Instead o’ standing together against the threat, we are split and weakened. If only Uncle Geddes had accepted the Englishman’s offers, none o’ this would be happening. As soon as I had the pardons and land grants in my possession, I would have revealed myself as the Black Wolf. Then the Englishman would have had his prize and our people a new beginning. How could it have gone so terribly wrong?”

  “Ye should have known that Robbie would no’ have allowed him to accept such terms.”

  “I am Robbie’s laird. He has no right to disobey me nor put my welfare above that o’ the clan.”

  Douglas put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “A lad in love is likely to think wi’ his heart, no’ his head. And your uncle is no’ one to stop him. He feels guilty that he left ye behind while he and the other men made their escape.”

  “’Twas no’ his decision. I ordered him to do so.”

  “It doesna change anything and ye know it.”

  Her anger evaporated. She pressed a hand to her brow. “Was it Robbie who was waiting for them outside the castle walls?”

  Douglas nodded. “Aye, and ye can well imagine his surprise when the men practically fell into his arms. Ye saved many lives that day, Megan. The men have no’ forgotten that, nor will they let ye die for them. ’Tis no longer a matter of orders, lass. ’Tis a matter o’ pride. Ye gave them back their lives. Now they wish to do the same for ye.”

  Megan threw up her hands in despair. “But I don’t want them to risk their lives for me. Please, Douglas, ye must convince them to give up this mad effort to rescue me. If they but harm one o’ the Englishman’s men, he will be so enraged that any more efforts for a truce will be futile. My life isn’t worth it. Peace is within our grasp. We have only to take it. Ye must convince my uncle and Robbie that accepting the Englishman’s offer is the only way.”

  Douglas’s face was grim. “I canna help ye wi’ this, Megan. Robbie’s mind is made up. He will no’ permit this wedding to take place. And even if he fails, there will be others seeking to remove ye from the Englishman’s hands.”

  “Ye must do something.”

  “Even if I could convince Robbie, I couldn’t reach the Chisholms or MacDonnells to stop their efforts. ’Tis out o’ my hands now, just as it is out o’ yours.”

  “Please, Douglas. I need your help.”

  The old man sighed. “I’ll tell Robbie o’ your wishes, lass. But I fear he will no’ listen. Nor can I blame the lad.” He patted her cheek. “Megan, the Scots have never been ones for an easy solution and ye know it. We will do what we must. Just be careful, for the plan may unfold at any time. Godspeed to ye, lass.”

  * * *

  “Are you certain that this is what you want to do, lad?”

  Rolf turned from the window where he had been observing the wedding preparations. “Yes, Peter. For the hundredth time, I’m certain I wish to wed her. Cease your tireless worrying and be happy for me. It is my wedding day, after all.”

  The older man sunk into a chair, straightening the fabric on the sleeve of his best shirt. “I am happy for you. But I’m concerned about what you have planned for the ceremony. The Wolf has proven to be frustratingly clever. What if the girl gets hurt during the skirmish?”

  Rolf’s features hardened. “No harm will come to Megan. I promise you that.”

  “Still, I urge you to be exceedingly careful with her. She is a strong woman who will not easily divide
her loyalties. Even when she is your wife, you cannot expect her to give up her fealty to the clan. We don’t know how she will react.”

  “You leave Megan to me. In time she’ll come to see that this is the proper course of action. I only hope that after I have captured her father she will find it in her heart to permit us to start anew. We shall see.” He jerked his head toward the open window. “Are the men ready?”

  Peter nodded. “Everyone is in place. The villagers have begun arriving for the ceremony and your bride is being readied. As you expected, Farrington sent his regrets, although I doubt anyone will miss him. And Abigail reports that Megan has been quiet since the visit from her clansman yesterday.”

  “Undoubtedly MacLeary warned her to be ready for a rescue attempt.”

  “She probably thinks she will be safely in the arms of her father by sundown.”

  Peter chuckled. “Imagine her surprise when she finds herself in the arms of her husband instead.”

  Rolf could not help but smile at the thought. “Yes. Imagine it, indeed.”

  * * *

  Megan stood by her open window, looking down onto the courtyard. The weather was beautiful for spring—bright sun without a hint of rain in the air. Rolf’s men moved about, clearing the area and preparing for the ceremony. Fresh rushes were being arranged like a small carpet leading to the center of the courtyard. A small wooden altar had been constructed. An altar at which she would bind herself to the Englishman unless a miracle happened or he got himself killed first.

  Megan shook her head in frustration. Had Rolf St. James any strategic sense at all? Didn’t he realize that by holding the ceremony outdoors, it permitted her clansmen greater maneuverability? Didn’t he understand that his gesture of good will by inviting the villagers to the celebration would also provide cover for her men?

  Megan closed her eyes. As much as she wanted to escape this fate, she had no wish to turn it into a bloodbath. Nor could she bear the thought that Rolf might get hurt. And even if she did manage to escape and Rolf survived, he would have no choice but to strike back at them with deadly force. Her men would be hunted down, with no mercy shown. The offers of land grants and pardons would be gone forever. The fighting would begin again and the never-ending cycle of attack and retaliate would continue. God help her, but she had to put a stop to it somehow.

  Abigail broke her concentration by entering the room carrying a black tray with tea and toast. “I’ve brought you a bite to eat and some tea to calm your nerves. Then we’ll see you into your gown.”

  Megan looked at the tray, her stomach churning. “Thank ye, Abigail. But I cannot eat. I fear even a bite would make me ill.”

  “Nonsense.” Abigail put a hand on Megan’s shoulder. “’Twill be hours again before you can eat. Come now. Try something. I know that all brides are nervous, but Rolf is a good man. You have naught to fear from him.”

  “’Tis no’ Rolf I fear...at least no’ now.” A new determination flashed in her eyes. “Abigail, do ye think there is a chance that I may speak to him...before the ceremony?”

  The older woman looked appalled at the suggestion. “You wish to see Rolf a scarce two hours before you are to wed? Do you not know that this is bad luck?”

  Megan grimaced, thinking that at this point bad luck was the least of her concerns. “I know ’tis a most usual request, but ’tis most urgent. Please, Abigail, would ye be so kind to tell him I wish to see him? I wouldn’t ask if ’twasn’t important.”

  “My lady. It’s sacrilegious, I say.”

  “Please, Abigail. His life may depend on it. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

  Abigail frowned in dismay. “I still say it’s not right. Are you certain that you must do this, my lady?”

  “I’m certain.”

  The older woman sighed. “I don’t know if he’ll see you, but I’ll give him your request just the same. God forgive my soul if I start you both off with cursed luck.”

  Megan let out a breath of relief. “Bless ye, Abigail. And please, don’t worry. I promise that ye’ll no’ regret it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “An ambush against me and my men during the ceremony?” Rolf repeated, raising a dark eyebrow. He sat inclined in the leather chair behind his desk, his booted feet propped on top of the desk.

  Megan felt her frustration rise when she realized that he didn’t look the least bit concerned. “Aye, ’tis so.” She clasped her hands behind her as she paced back and forth across the library floor. “And if ye don’t put a stop this ceremony at once, there will be unnecessary bloodshed. Everything we have worked for will come to naught.”

  “Everything?”

  She stopped to look at him. “Why do ye keep answering me wi’ a question? The solution is quite simple. Ye must put a stop to this wedding at once.”

  “I’ll not do that.”

  She gasped in surprise. “Did ye no’ hear what I just said? They mean to kill ye. Ye do no’ fear for your life?”

  Rolf unfolded himself from the chair and walked around the desk to face her. “What do you expect me to do, Megan? Quake in my boots with fear?”

  “I expect ye to listen. I promise ye that this ’twill no’ be a feeble attempt. Many lives will be lost today, mayhap even your own, if ye do no’ heed my words. Is this what ye want?”

  Rolf leaned back against the desk, folding his arms across his chest. “Is that what you want? To see me dead?”

  She shook her head. “O’ course I don’t want to see ye dead. ’Tis why I am here, telling ye this. I want to work together for peace. But ye must stop this ceremony. ’Twill only make matters worse.”

  “I’m afraid matters could not get much worse. It is clear to me your father has no intention of turning himself over in exchange for the land grants and pardons. So by wedding you, I’m taking a different approach toward that peace.”

  “And I’m telling ye honestly that this approach won’t work. Please, ye must listen to me. I have a new plan. I’m ready to accept those pardons and land grants on behalf o’ my father.”

  Rolf looked at her in a moment of stunned amazement before breaking out in laughter. “You? You want to accept my offers for your father and the clan?”

  “I do.”

  “Really, Megan, do you expect me to believe that the clan would accept the word of a woman over that of their laird?”

  “’Tis what I’m asking ye to believe. Please, at least give me the chance to show ye I am right. Postpone the wedding and let us discuss the matters at hand.”

  Rolf chuckled. “You are the most outrageous woman I’ve ever encountered. But I’m afraid I can’t do as you ask. I intend to wed you this afternoon, ambush or no ambush.”

  “Ye’d risk your life to wed me?”

  Rolf raised a dark eyebrow in surprise. “Could that be a hint of concern I hear in your voice?”

  “Concern that ye may be casting away our last chance at peace.”

  “I had rather hoped it was concern for my well-being.”

  “I can’t believe that ye jest wi’ me when your life is at stake. Ye’re as stubborn as a Scotsman.”

  “Why, I do believe your opinion of me is improving.”

  She sighed in exasperation. “Will ye at least heed my warning?”

  Rolf unfolded his arms from his chest. “You concern yourself needlessly, Megan. I’ve already taken precautions. Your father’s attempt to rescue you today has been well anticipated. It won’t succeed, but it might finally put an end to this senseless fighting if I am able to capture him.”

  Megan’s eyes widened with surprise before a look of anger crossed her face. “Ye knew. Ye’ve known all along. ’Tis why ye decided to have the ceremony outdoors and why ye invited the villagers. Ye’ve set some kind o’ trap, using me as the bait.”

  Rol
f shrugged. “I won’t deny it. We both know it’s time for me to come face to face with your father. I intend to have the Black Wolf in my hands by this evening.”

  “And if ye don’t? Will all o’ your grand plans be dashed?”

  “Your father can’t hide from me forever. Whether or not I catch him today, I will wed you. It’s time for all of us to put an end to this fruitless confrontation and start healing our wounds.”

  “This is no’ the way.”

  “It’s my way. We will be wed, Megan.”

  “They will kill ye.”

  Rolf sighed. “I appreciate your warning. I know that it cost you much to tell me this. And I hope that after the wedding you will give me...us another chance. It’s time to end the bitterness and deceit that still lies between us.”

  Megan felt her anger disappear. “Ye ask far too much o’ me, Englishman. There are secrets...things I cannot reveal to ye.”

  “I’m not going to ask you to betray your people.”

  Megan lowered her gaze. “’Tis a wise decision, for I would no’ do it, even as your wife.”

  Rolf strode across the room, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Return to your chamber and prepare yourself for the ceremony. We have many things to work out between us. But if God is willing, we shall have the time to do so in the future.”

  “There is naught I can say that will change your mind?”

  “I’m afraid not. I’ve made my decision.”

  “Aye, I can see that ye have. I only hope that ye’ll be able to live wi’ it.”

  “Oh, I will. And so will you, Megan. You might just be surprised.”

  * * *

  Megan stood at the window, forcing herself to swallow her panic and think rationally. The villagers were gathered in the courtyard below, jostling about in good cheer, undisturbed by the unusual union about to take place. God in heaven, how had she permitted this to happen?

  She admitted to herself that Rolf had been clever to gain the villagers’ trust and respect. They were simple people, anxious to put an end to their suffering. Lest she forget, Rolf had protected them from Farrington in ways that Megan and her father had been unable to do. It was only natural that they would turn to him for help...and hope.