Storm Trilogy

by Ria Cantrell

  “Ye’ say she loves ye’.”

  “She does.”

  “And ye’ say ye’ love her.”

  “I do.”

  “Ye canna’ hurt her. Ye just canna’ hurt her.”

  “Ye have my word. I will never willingly cause her sadness. I will never harm her in any way.”

  “If ye’ take a mistress, ye’ must never let her know. I know how it is with the ways of men…”

  “Laird, I have no thoughts of taking a mistress. I do not want to be with any woman but your daughter. All my roving days are done.”

  As the laird looked about to acquiesce, there was a knock on the door. Drew let his breath out in a hiss. Damn it…probably one of Bronwyn’s meddling brothers, Drew thought. Terrible timing!

  The laird crossed the room and opened the door. An elderly woman entered, speaking only in Gaelic. She glanced at Drew and stopped midsentence. She made her way into the room fairly quickly despite being one so very old. She assessed Drew and it made him feel quite uneasy.

  He knew who this woman was. She was the old chatelaine, Bronwyn’s mentor, Morag. Drew hoped she would remember the vision of Bronwyn’s youth. Perhaps she would speak on Drew’s behalf.

  She touched Drew’s arm and light gleamed in her old grey eyes. She turned from Drew and faced the laird. She excitedly spoke in her native tongue to him. Drew watched the laird’s face color at the old woman’s words. Drew could not tell if it was from rising temper of if the old woman had somehow admonished the Laird. Knowing it was risky to chance ruining the understanding the two men were coming to, Drew still thought he had to be bold and take action. Now! He had to rely on his instinct once and for all.

  “I am the ONE.” Bronwyn’s father turned and stared at Drew.

  “Aye, so Morag seems to think.”

  “Bronwyn does, too. She told me so herself. She knew it one night when I walked her back from the garden.”

  At this statement the old woman fairly clapped with joy. He thought he heard her say, “I knew she had seen ye’…that silly little lying minx.”

  Drew said, “She did see me. It seems, I have been waiting all my life for her, too.”

  Drew extended his hand again toward the laird. Morag mumbled something to Bronwyn’s father and Drew thought he actually saw the old woman shove Caleb MacCollum closer. He shot her a glare and through gritted teeth he said, “Woman, dunna’ push me.” To Drew he said, “Ye’ love her? Ye’ vow it?”

  “Aye, Sir. With all my heart.”

  “And she is alright?”

  “She is. The people of Ragnorsen Keep have grown to love her as well.”

  “She is very beautiful…she is a woman to be cherished.”

  “Aye, she is. I intend to do just that.”

  The laird dropped his head in defeat and clasped Drew’s arm in agreement. Drew expelled his breath, not even aware that he had been holding it.

  Morag went and poured the men another drink of the Scottish whiskey. Drew turned to her and said, “Thank you.”

  The old woman smiled and said, “Yer’ a bonnie lad. Perfect for our beautiful Highland Rose.”

  “You do speak English. I thought I had imagined it.”

  “We Scots all speak English, Lad.”

  Drew bowed formally to Morag. He said, “My Lady, would you lesson me in your native tongue so that I can speak my wedding troth to Bronwyn.”

  The old woman nodded happily. Then to the laird, she mumbled something else. He answered in English and said, “Fine, so long as they dunna’ beat him to a pulp. I know they are just looking for a scrap.”

  “The brothers?”

  “Aye. They want to talk to ye’.”

  Drew shrugged and said, “They will have to accept me sooner or later.”

  Morag shook her head and laughed, “Dunna’ be so sure. I will tell them to join ye’.”

  As the brothers filed in, Drew felt the worst of the storm had passed. The laird had agreed to consent to his marriage to Bronwyn. He felt his hope quickly fade as one by one the brothers glared at him. He seemed surrounded. The father said something to them in their own language. Unprepared for anything friendly, Drew found himself again shocked when they each moved forward and offered their hands.

  That was, all except Rory. He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest and he continued to glare at Drew. Caleb’s lips quirked at the sight of his youngest son staring down the man who had claimed Bronwyn for his own. He was not going to be swayed so easily. Drew dropped his hand and then went about answering questions.

  They all had questions about their precious sister, Bronwyn. There were four of them in all. Drew felt like he did know them all from the chats he had with Bronwyn about them. Jamie was the oldest, the one who’s timeless wife had given Bronwyn those fetching underpinnings.

  Drew forced himself not to think about that right now. Those sorts of thoughts would surely get him killed. Then there was Liam and Shawn. Finally, there was Rory. They were all fierce looking lethal fighting men but as the Scotch flowed, some of the barriers seemed to be broken. All men realized they had one thing in common and that was the love they all had for Bronwyn.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Caleb MacCollum, laird and chief of the clan, was a man of few words. As he observed the man who would marry his daughter, he started to develop a burgeoning respect for the way that Drew handled himself. Despite the knowledge that he was his daughter’s lover, he could see Drew was an honorable man who had a kind heart; a man forged by integrity. Caleb remembered courting Bronwyn’s mother and remembered too that she had come to him before they were officially wed. He remembered her father was none too fond of him, come to think of it, at first either. He supposed no man liked the one who would take his daughter from him.

  Caleb thought again on his own wife and their difficult beginnings. They had shared a blossoming passion that brought him five beautiful children. Bronwyn was so much like her beautiful passionate mother. Caleb suspected that she would of course be a passionate woman when love claimed her, too.

  Caleb looked at Drew and saw him suddenly as the man that his daughter loved and not as the man who was stealing his precious baby away. It was as if his eyes were opened and he realized, if Bronwyn loved this man, then he must be a good, honorable and decent mate for her. She was a bright and practical girl, not given to flights of fancy. If this man had won her heart, he must have been quite special.

  On the battlefield, Andrew Brandham would be a formidable opponent, but Caleb could also see that he was a good man despite his initial anger toward him. Caleb looked past his disappointment in the loss of his daughter’s innocence. Virginity was only as useful till it was lost. Drew did not force his daughter; that Caleb was sure of. Caleb saw that Drew was a good mate for Bronwyn. The more Drew talked about Bronwyn, the clearer it became how very much he loved her, and wasn’t love all Caleb had ever really wanted for his dear Bronwyn? He was English, aye, but it seemed that that was all part of Destiny’s path.

  The light in Drew’s eyes as he spoke of Bronwyn was undeniable. He not only loved her, he adored her. A father could only hope for such a match for a daughter. He approached Drew and spoke up, saying, “I want to thank ye’.”

  Drew looked stunned. “I don’t understand.”

  “For loving my daughter. It is what I wanted for her all along. I wanted her to marry a man of her choosing for love and love alone.”

  Drew smiled sincerely; the light of that smile emanating outward to his host.

  “She is a remarkable woman. I think she is so beautiful and loving and smart. I never met a woman quite like her.”

  Rory had been mostly silent during this meeting. He finally spoke up and said, “Da’, ye’ canna’ be serious. Ye’ are thanking this blackguard? For what? For nearly raping my sister?”

  “Ruiri, he did not rape yer’ sister. He does love her.”

  “I do love her Rory. I don’t know how to prove it to you. She loves me, too. I ha
d naught to do with forcing her hand in that.”

  “It is not her hand I am worried about ye’ forcin’.”

  “I did not force her to do anything.”

  Rory yelped, “Ouch…Morag...what the bloody hell…the old woman pinched me.”

  “Ye’ be nice, Ruiri MacCollum.” Morag shook her finger at the man as if he was still the wayward boy she helped raise.

  “Bloody hell”, he swore again. Drew tried to ignore that distraction and he changed the subject.

  “Laird MacCollum, I need to beg a favor from you.”

  When Drew saw the raised eyebrow of the laird, his grin grew and he said, “How may I obtain the colors of the clan? I want to wear your colors, your plaid at the wedding.”

  “Ye’ wish to be dressed as a Scot?” Rory seemed incredulous at this request. “Are ye’ mockin’ us now?”

  “Ruiri, I think he wishes to honor yer’ sister,” Caleb answered.

  “Aye. I want to show her that I accept you as part of me, as I have accepted her.”

  Rory mumbled something in Gaelic and the rest of the brothers laughed. Even Caleb cracked a semblance of a smile for the first time that night. Happy to translate, Shawn piped up, “He said ye’ were a silly love sick girl.”

  Drew took a swig of his drink and said calmly, “I am not the one wearing a skirt.”

  The insult was not lost and Rory’s quick temper flared.

  “Nay but ye’ asked to be wearin’ one and on yer’ weddin’ night, too. Perhaps it will unman ye’ too much, aye? Da’, give it to him. Mayhap he will feel more like a Scottish girl and he willna’ be able to bed our sister.”

  Drew looked down at his drink and murmured, “I am not worried about that.”

  It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Damn this liquid fire. It was loosening his tongue and not in a good way. Rory stood up quickly and moved away from the pinching fingers of the Old One.

  “Awfully cock sure, isn’t he? Too cock sure fer’ my likin’. T’is time I defended my sister’s honor.”

  Drew could see there was nothing teasing about Rory’s demeanor. He actually wanted to fight him. Holy God! This Rory was hot-headed to say the least. Drew knew he could hold his own against one at a time, but not one against all four. Still, Drew stood his ground. This was a battle of wills more than muscle. With his head lifted, he said, “Bronwyn’s honor needs no defending.”

  “Swear, then, Blackguard, that ye’ have no’ defiled her.”

  “I have never defiled your sister. I swear it.”

  “Ruiri, ye’ are suggesting that this man, who love’s yer’ sister, has committed a heinous deed against her. He wouldna’ have come so far to speak to yer’ father if he had done something so despicable. Caleb, speak to yer’ son!”

  Caleb sighed. The old woman could make the most adult man feel like a child caught doing the most embarrassing things. He was sure, that Rory was bristling over that admonishment in front of the Englishman.

  Drew did not wait for Rory to be “scolded”. Instead he said, “Laird MacCollum. I have never raped a woman. Not any woman. Certainly not a woman who I love and want to cherish. Any woman who came to me, came to me willingly.”

  “So, ye’ seduced my innocent sister into yer’ bed, then.”

  Drew tried not to roll his eyes. If he didn’t get pummeled tonight it would be a miracle.

  “I would never admit to such a thing. Look, Rory. I love your sister. I am marrying her. You will have to accept it in time.”

  “How dare ye’ speak so in front of her father. Does my father know the truth of it? Was that what he wanted to talk to ye’ about privately?”

  Rory’s anger was blossoming to a dangerous level. Morag stood up and planted herself between Drew and Rory. When he got like this sometimes there would be no form of reasoning that could calm him.

  Drew, not aware of the eminent danger, smiled at this frail old woman who thought she could protect him. He said, “I believe Laird Caleb knows what is between Bronwyn and me. He also knows it is a private matter. I would never embarrass your sister by speaking of such a private thing, even if it is with her own brothers.”

  Rory’s anger was growing with each thought of his innocent and sheltered sister in bed with this man.

  “Da, did he lie with my sister?”

  Caleb looked at the man who would soon become his son through marriage and he knew his sons would beat the snot of him if he didn’t choose his words carefully.

  “I dunna’ know for sure. I trust him to be an honest man. He said no woman ever came to his bed unwillingly. I think yer’ sister is not so different from ye’, Ruiri. She is not a little girl any more. She is a woman with woman’s desires.”

  “So then he did have his way with her!”

  “Ruiri, enough. She is cut from the same cloth as ye’. I believe it takes two to bed and since yer’ sister is a woman of passion, I believe if…and I am not saying that she did, but if it is so, she wanted it to happen as much as the lad here. Now, we will speak of it no more. This is a private matter between two adults. Only Andrew and Bronwyn know for sure. It is between them. Not us.”

  “The Blackguard needs a lesson in honor.”

  Caleb saw there was going to be no way to appease Rory when he was in one of his black moods. He saw no choice but to do what he did next. Sighing heavily, Caleb said to Drew, “Lad, remove yer’ shirt, please.”

  “Laird?”

  “Just do it, if ye’ please.”

  Drew did as he was asked, but he was completely bewildered by this request.

  “Show yer’ back to my son, please,” Caleb continued.

  Understanding finally registered to Drew. The Laird wanted him to show the evidence of his beating to the brothers. That event seemed so long in the past at this point. In truth, he had nearly forgotten about it. He certainly did not give it much thought any more. The bruising was long gone, but the white scarring from the opened welts still stood out against the tan of his skin as testament of the flogging.

  “Ruiri, see those stripes. His king had them metered out because of his love for Bronwyn. They were meant for Bronwyn’s back, because she was seen with him. He took them for her so that she would not suffer the lash on her beautiful spotless back.”

  Drew was very embarrassed by this recounting of that horrible day. He said, “Sir, please don’t say any more. It is something that now lives in the past.”

  “They need to know, else they will be lookin’ to pound ye’ at every chance.” To his sons, Caleb continued, “There is more ye’ need to know about his stripes.”

  “Please, don’t tell them. It is enough that they know I willingly took them for her and I would do it again without any thought.”

  “They need to know all of it.”

  “What is it, Da. Finish the tale, then.”

  “T’is not a tale. T’is a lesson in honor; in Andrew’s honor. His king had Bronwyn meter out the lashes as part of her punishment. Yer’ own sister’s hand striped him with a punishment that was meant for her back. This man has had lessons enough in honor, and still he wants to marry our girl. Lesser men would have turned tail and ran. Lesser men would not have saved her from the punishment and taken it. A lesser man would not surely still want to marry the woman who did this to him. If a man would agree to marry a woman who did this, surely there would be no love towards her, but bitterness. Yet this man is going to still marry yer’ sister and he bears no ill will towards her. In fact, he loves her.”

  The old woman who had been observing quietly spoke up mainly addressing Rory. What she said, Drew did not know, but all the brothers seemed abashed when she was done. Drew eased his leine over his broad shoulders and awaited the next trial under these volatile brothers. He was somewhat ashamed to have had this event revealed to these nearly perfect strangers. It was still a source of shame for him. Only, after Morag spoke this time, the joviality returned. They all clapped Drew on the back and Rory finally extended his hand in a tenu
ous peace.

  Liam left to find a plaid suitable for Drew. Drew then thanked Caleb and quietly taking him aside, he said, “How did you know about the flogging?”

  “I received a letter explaining all. Ye’ see, I wasna’ going to leave my beautiful Bronwyn alone in the Winter Palace. I had my men planted within the castle to keep an eye on her. Those guards that were with her at every turn were men I had hired to watch her. She is too precious to me not to protect. I knew the Winter Palace was a dangerous place, especially for a sheltered Scottish girl.”

  “Then, despite what you said to your sons, you know that I…”

  Caleb’s hand came up, stopping Drew midsentence, lest he re-open that festering sore between all present.

  “It is enough to know that ye’ love her. We all lose our innocence eventually. Bronwyn was with someone who loved and cherished her. She could have been forced or worse…I am glad she was with someone who was so concerned for her wellbeing, he would suffer the lash for her.”

  Drew bowed as a show of respect and honor. “I vow to cherish her and honor her as long as I live.”

  ~~~~~

  A short time later, Liam returned with a new plaid for Drew. If he wanted to wear it, Liam would not deny his future brother in marriage. Liam rather liked the big Englishman, despite him being just that…English. He admired his bravery in facing his father and his other brothers.

  He handed the plaid to Morag, knowing she would enjoy getting her old hands on the bonnie Englishman. Liam grinned when he saw the look of embarrassment and horror when Drew realized the wizened woman was going to help him into the plaid as the Old One said, “Let’s get ye’ into that plaid, Bonnie Drew….”

  The brothers watched with broadening grins as Morag showed Drew how to fasten the plaid about his hips. Drew almost thought that she enjoyed touching him as her bony fingers tucked the plaid into perfect pleats.

  When she was done, she clapped her hands gleefully and said, “There, ye’ look like a bonnie Scot. Now if only yer’ hair was a wee bit longer, ye’ would be even more believable. Dunna’ cut it or trim it from now to the wedding. It will grow a good deal while ye’ are here in the Highlands.”