After the Storm

by Tia Isabella

  Argyle removed his dagger from his plaid and slashed open the ropes that had cut into her skin and held her hostage. Maya threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life, crying uncontrollably.

  “Did he rape ye?” Argyle demanded as he deposited her onto his lap and stroked her hair.

  She continued to cry, unable to speak. Finally, she shook her head in the negative. Both men let out a collective, relieved breath.

  “But it was close. So close,” she cried, hugging herself tighter against Argyle. “Oh God Argyle!”

  Patrick pulled his tunic off from over his head, then gently reached toward Maya. “Here lass, put this on.”

  Maya looked up to the Hamilton through tear-soaked eyes and nodded in thanks. She drew herself up from Argyle’s lap and stood before Patrick, her arms raised above her head, still in a state of shock, oblivious to her nudity. Patrick placed the tunic over her head gently, covering her body once again.

  “Ye’ve a nice arse,” Argyle announced, hoping to prod Maya out of shock and into laughter. Patrick smiled down to her, a twinkle in his sea blue eyes. Maya gulped, swinging her wide-eyed gaze around to Argyle.

  At his grin, she understood what he was trying to do. She smiled slowly, thankful she was blessed with so many who cared for her—and for her sanity—so greatly. She emitted a guttural sound, half laugh and half cry, then flung herself at both men. “I love you! Both of you!”

  “And what aboot me?”

  Maya released the men who had freed her from the ropes and whirled around at the sound of her husband’s voice. She began to cry again, unable to stop. She held out her arms, unable to move.

  Thomas swept her up without hesitation, pulling her tightly against him. Over his shoulder, she saw Dugald place a sheet over the remains of Robert MacAllister and was thankful to him that she hadn’t had to see the deranged, sadistic man’s face again.

  Thomas held his wife reverently, afraid to put her down, afraid beyond reason to let her go. She clung to him, telling him without words how much she would always need him.

  Chapter 50

  Thomas and Maya MacGregor strolled hand-in-hand through the grounds of the fair, Angus and Elizabeth bouncing along in front of them, unable to contain their brewing excitement. “Angus! Beth!” Thomas bellowed. “Get ye back here with yer mum and da’, the soonest.”

  The children readily complied, turning around and skidding to wobbly halts in front of their parents. Thomas released his wife’s hand and squatted down to meet his bairns at their eye level. He winked at both of them as he enveloped his firstborn son and daughter into a MacGregor huddle. “Ye will stay right close and dinna be runnin’ off else yer mean ole mum will no’ let yer da’ buy yer sweet treats, ye ken?”

  “I heard that!” Maya laughed.

  Thomas glanced up to her and feigned ignorance. “I dinna ken yer meanin’, wife.”

  “Ha!”

  Thomas grinned at his love, then turned to his children once more. “We are goin’ tae yon booth tae get us some treats. Do ye want da’ tae carry ye?”

  Elizabeth reached out her arms, her tri-colored eyes twinkling as she smiled. Thomas scooped her up and kissed her on the cheek. “I knew ye would want da’ tae carry ye, poppet. And what of ye, Angus?”

  Angus grinned up to his father and waited for him to throw him over his shoulder. And when he did, he laughed with a bubbly mirth that only a one-year-old child can laugh with.

  “Thomas, be careful with him please,” Maya chided.

  “Hush yer tongue, harridan. I am playing with my bairns.”

  Maya rolled her eyes in amusement and conceded. When it came to his children, Thomas knew what he was about. Then again, the MacGregor always seemed to know what he was about.

  The foursome wandered over to the closest booth hocking sweet treats and purchased four different varieties of candied currants and honeyed concoctions. Thomas paid the fare in gold coin, then tried to set the children down so they could eat. Angus went down easily, bounding over toward his mother to clasp her hand, his treats held firmly in his other. Elizabeth, however, was having none of that.

  “What’s the matter, Beth, my poppet? Can yer da’ no’ put ye down long enough tae eat?” Elizabeth shook her head in the negative, dramatically perching her lower lip outward. Thomas chuckled. “Ye ha’ me wrapped aboot yer wee finger, do ye no’?”

  Elizabeth smiled, grabbing for the braids at either side of her father’s temple. She tugged on them gently and giggled, then leaned in closer to him and kissed him soundly on his cheek.

  “Weel, when ye put it like that, lassie, how can I refuse ye?”

  Maya laughed at her daughter’s antics as she picked up her son and kissed him on top of his head. She waddled over to her husband’s side and smiled up to her daughter, kissing her on her tiny hand.

  “Maya!” Thomas lectured, his eyes narrowed. “Ye will give me my son. I will carry both of my bairns do they want held.”

  Maya rolled her eyes dramatically toward the heavens. “Thomas—”

  “Maya, I will no’ listen tae arguments from ye. Yer belly is round with bairn and I will no’ ha’ ye liftin’. ‘Tis final, my word.”

  “How are you going to eat?”

  “Ye can feed me. Give me Angus.”

  Ten minutes later, Sir Argyle and Lady Lena found the laird balancing a child at each hip while he opened his mouth and let his bairns toss candies into it. Lena giggled. “Watch the laird and see how ‘tis done, Argyle.” She patted her slightly swollen belly. “’Twill be yer time soon enough.”

  “Listen tae my cousin, lad,” Thomas nodded. “Watch the master and learn,” he boasted.

  “Oh please,” Maya retorted, shaking her head.

  Argyle grinned. “If the bairn my Lena gives tae me willna give me their candies, then I guess I will ha’ tae win them at the cards from my lady cousin.”

  Maya frowned. “You win one time this week and it goes straight to your big head.”

  Lena and Thomas laughed, knowing how seriously Maya and Argyle took their poker games.

  Sir Dugald and Lady Sara meandered through the crowd and found their way to the rest of the group. Dugald had a sleeping baby Niall, named after his grandfather, slung over his shoulder.

  “Hi guys!” Maya said. “Where have you been?”

  “Waiting on Dugald,” Sara admitted in obvious vexation.

  “Dinna be takin’ that tone, wife,” Dugald scolded. “I was waitin’ fer yon rider tae leave.” He winked at his wife and smiled. “I was no’ o’er long, was I?”

  She grinned. “No, not really.”

  Thomas’s ears perked up at Dugald’s words. He gobbled down the candy Angus threw into his mouth, then inclined his head to his commander. “What rider do ye speak of?”

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Dugald admitted as he rubbed Niall’s back. “’Twas a Hamilton rider. Patrick should be tae the keep by nightfall.”

  “Patrick?” Maya repeated. “It will be good to see him. It’s been so long!”

  “Aye,” Argyle seconded, scratching his chin. “He left a few days after the new year. We ha’ no’ had the chance tae see him since.”

  Thomas nodded. “’Twill be good tae see him again.”

  Lord Reginald and Sir Harold strutted over to the family, arms filled with various sweet treats. Harold stopped before Maya and bowed. “Ye see I ha’ stocked up on the candies, lassie. I’m right ready fer yer wicked card playin’, so ye had best ha’ the MacGregor stock up fer ye as well.”

  “Now see here,” Reginald barbed. “Maya doesn’t need to stock up on anything when she can get all of her candies winning them from you.”

  “What are ye tryin’ tae say, Reggie?” Harold growled.

  “I think I said it plain enough, Harry.”

  Dinna be callin’ me Harry, Reggie.”

  “Don’t call me Reggie, Harry.”

  “Oh? And what will ye do aboot it, ye woman?”

  “Woman? Now se
e here you addle-witted idiot!”

  “Addle witted idiot? I am rubber, ye are glue—”

  “Whatever ye say,” a group of grinning MacGregors finished for the warrior minstrel, “bounces off my fine form and sticks tae the likes of ye!”

  Harold grunted. “’Tis true, these words.”

  Maya patted Harold affectionately on the back. “I see some things never change. I—” She paused, her eyes widening.

  Thomas squinted his confusion, cocking his head toward his wife. “What is it, love?”

  Maya smiled, in irony and anticipation. “I think there’s something about fairs that bring out the baby in me…literally.”

  “The baby!” Sara shouted, laughing.

  “Harold! Argyle!” Thomas bellowed.

  “Aye?”

  “Ye will take my bairns that I might carry my wife back tae yon keep.”

  Harold scooped Angus from the laird’s arms and Argyle reached for Elizabeth. Thomas picked his wife up and cradled her into the protection of his muscled chest. “Reginald!” he shouted.

  “Yes?”

  “Ye will acquire Maris, then come see tae the delivery.” He paused, frowning. “And ye will no’ look o’er long a’tween my wife’s legs whilst ye do it.”

  Reginald rolled his eyes. “She is like a daughter to me, Thomas.”

  The MacGregor grunted.

  “Thomas!” Maya scolded. “I want to lie down in my bed. Please growl later!”

  He grunted again. Then he turned to command Sara. “Let us go, lass.”

  Sara grinned, saluting Thomas as she strolled over to his side. “Aye, aye captain!”

  He furrowed his brow, but said nothing. Thomas took a deep breath, then addressed the group as a whole. “I dinna mean tae yell at the lot of ye, but this birthin’ business is hard on a mon.”

  “Hello! Hello!” Maya shouted. “I think I might be the one who’s actually having the baby!”

  Thomas merely grunted at that. A moment later he took off running like a bat out of hell toward their home, Sara hard at his heels.

  “Well,” Argyle smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “’Tis time tae break out the good ale.”

  * * * * *

  Thomas accepted the tankard of ale that was handed to him, then continued to pace back and forth before the hearth in the great hall. Angus sat atop Argyle’s lap, laughing uproariously as they played a spirited game of horsy. Elizabeth sat on the floor, playing with the dolly her papa had purchased for her today at the fair. Niall cooed up to his father, grinning as he used his strong legs to try and stand up on Dugald’s lap.

  “Ye are making me dizzy, mon,” Patrick chided, his arms folded across his chest.

  Thomas grunted, but stopped pacing. He ran a callused hand through his hair and sighed. “Ye would think my wife would care enough aboot me tae birth my bairn the soonest, so I would no’ ha’ tae worry.”

  Patrick threw his head back and laughed. “She has been birthin’ but a mere five hours. ‘Tis early still.”

  Elizabeth wobbled over to her father’s side and smiled sweetly up to him as she raised her arms, indicating that she wanted to be held. Thomas grinned down to her, scooping her up to his side. “Ye canna stand tae be away from me, can ye, poppet?”

  Elizabeth beamed a huge smile his way, displaying her four pearly white teeth. She placed her hand on Thomas’s cheek and kissed him on the lips. “Da’.”

  Patrick chuckled as he reached out and twirled one of Elizabeth’s golden curls between his fingers. “I ha’ heard from Argyle that the wee one will no’ let ye from her sight.”

  Thomas rolled his eyes in feigned exasperation, knowing all the while that he treasured how much his wee Beth loved him. “’Tis true, my friend. When I go out tae the lists fer practice each day, I ha’ tae sneak from the keep, else Beth throws a mean temper does she see me leave.”

  Patrick grinned. “Yer lucky, sure enough.”

  “Sure enough.”

  An hour later, Elizabeth was charming Patrick, sitting in his lap and giving him kisses, while Thomas continued to pace. He was too nervous to do aught else.

  Soon thereafter Maris appeared at the top of the staircase, gliding down it with the regality of a queen. The men stopped what they were doing as all eyes became transfixed on the midwife’s impending arrival.

  Thomas waited in anticipation, as silent as the lot of them. Maris came to a halt before him and grinned. “Ye are the father t’ tae more healthy bairns!”

  “Tae?” The question was torn from five sets of lips, just as it had been a little over a year ago.

  Maris chuckled, nodding enthusiastically. “Both sons, these tae, though they are no’ identical.”

  Thomas clapped his hand to his forehead, feeling the need to sit down. “Can my wife no’ do anything the easy way?” he asked in bewilderment, but much delight.

  After steadying himself, Thomas picked up his tankard from the table nearest the hearth, and with an elation he could feel only after the birth of one of his own children, he raised it up and bellowed: “Tae sons! I name them this day—” He paused and cleared his throat, remembering his Christmas promise to his wife. “I think I had best wait and speak tae my harridan first.”

  At the sound of a great hall filled with laughter, he raised his tankard again and grinned. “Tae my sons!”

  “Tae yer sons!”

  Thomas set down his tankard, motioned for Patrick to follow behind him with Beth and Angus, and bolted for the staircase. ‘Twas time to see his wife and bairns.

  * * * * *

  “Patrick? Ye ha’ named my son after this woman?”

  The Hamilton chuckled at Thomas, then resumed cooing and crooning to his namesake. He gazed up at Lady Maya and smiled. “What will ye name the other one?”

  Maya shrugged as she smiled down to her fourth-born, the son who was already displaying the temper of all tempers. She grinned. “Well since I’ve named the one who has the temperament of a kitty cat after his equally jovial namesake, I can think of only one name befitting this demanding fourth child of mine.”

  The MacGregor grunted. “And what is that, love?” he asked.

  Maya grinned. “This son of mine is a ‘Thomas’ if ever I’ve seen one!”

  The Hamilton exploded into a fit of laughter. Even Thomas had to grin. He picked his fourth-born, but equally treasured son up from his mother’s arms and kissed him soundly on the cheek. Little Thomas, full from his mother’s milk, belched.

  Patrick chuckled. “He is his papa’s son already!”

  Maya watched as the Hamilton rained kisses atop little Patrick’s tiny head. She smiled, knowing what a great father he would make. “So Patrick,” she grinned, “Have you met anyone worthy of marrying lately?”

  Patrick winced. “Nay, milady. I ha’ been tae busy this past year dealin’ with Kirkpatricks.”

  “Did ye rid yerself of their rebel leader yet?” Thomas inquired.

  “Aye.”

  “Good. Then ye ha’ time tae be courtin’ a lassie.”

  Maya chuckled. “You better hurry up about it, Hamilton. My Angus is betrothed to your firstborn daughter. At the rate you’re progressing, he’ll be eighty years old before he gets his heir!”

  Thomas laughed. “’Tis true enough, wife.”

  Patrick shook his head. “The tae of ye carry on as if ye were my parents and I just a wee one and no’ a powerful laird.”

  Thomas clapped him on the back. “Somebody has tae, I’m thinkin’.”

  The rest of the MacGregor brood shuffled into the room, the lot of them having gone downstairs to eat after the birthing. Elizabeth made a beeline straight for her papa, Angus straight for his mother.

  Angus climbed up onto the bed and grinned at Maya. “Mum.”

  She kissed him hard on the cheek in return, a great smacking sound heard throughout the bedchamber. Thomas brought Beth to her other side for a kiss, the six of them sitting on the bed as they introduced their first and second born to their
third and fourth born.

  Maya looked up to her husband and smiled, a tear glistening in her eye. Thomas smiled, knowingly.

  She was the happiest of ladies.

  He was the happiest of lairds.

  “I love you Thomas MacGregor.”

  “And I love ye, Maya mine.”

  Epilogue

  Gnarled old hands that had known a long, happy life opened up the book that had been purchased just this past Christmas. They shook with age as they leafed through the pages, then stopped as they reached the first chapter.

  The owner of the gnarled hands had been inexplicably drawn to this book from the moment he had first received it as a gift from his grandchildren a few months back. The old man was taking his time in reading it, hoping to learn all he could of the mysterious clan MacGregor that had ruled the Highlands for hundreds of years.

  He put on his spectacles as he sat at the chair behind the cherry oak desk in his private library. He began to read.

  The matriarch of the MacGregor clan, Lady Maya MacGregor, bore her husband Thomas MacGregor (later the first Earl of Clannock, see pp. 301) seven children, with two of her pregnancies producing twins. By the end of her childbearing years, Lady Maya bequeathed to her husband a total of four sons and two daughters.

  The MacGregor’s eldest daughter Elizabeth, whom he affectionately referred to as “Beth”, went on in her later years to marry an English duke and to become the third Duchess of Browning.

  Aside from Thomas MacGregor’s feared reputation and prowess in battle (see pp. 50-75), it was through powerful marriage alliances such as Elizabeth’s that the MacGregor clan thrived while so many other Highlander clans vanished into poverty and obscurity.

  A case in point is that of Angus MacGregor, the second Earl of Clannock, who married the eldest born daughter of the powerful laird Patrick Hamilton (the Earl of Kintane). Angus’s wife, Madeline Hamilton MacGregor, went on to bear him three sons and two daughters, all of whom married heiresses and titled lords…

  The old man scanned through the pages until he reached the next section that referred back to the MacGregor matriarch.