The Draig's Wife

by Lisa Dawn Wadler

  The same breeze that fluttered her gown blew softly on his bare legs. The plaid of his ancestors, a weave of blue, green, and black, wrapped around his waist, and its length fell over his shoulder. Over it, lay a second piece of plaid to cover his wife and mark her as his before all. His white shirt was crisp and new and made for the day. The weight of the clan dagger could be felt on his hip, and he knew he finally had a wife worthy of his clan’s gift.

  “Are you pleased with my new wife?” Declan asked his daughter.

  Mary giggled. “‘Tis no longer make-believe and, aye, Da. I have no fear Emma will make me sweep the fireplaces and sleep in a dusty old attic. She will take fine care of me.”

  Declan wondered aloud what tales his daughter had been told and if the story also contained a foul man.

  “In that tale, the step-mother is evil and is verra cruel to her husband’s daughter. But Emma would never be cruel. She loves me,” Mary beamed.

  “As do I,” Declan said, holding his daughter’s large green gaze. His own misted as she readily offered her words of love back. Blinking away the emotion, he watched as Emma limped slowly toward him. She didn’t smile as she approached. It was more than he should expect, but he wanted her, at the minimum, content with her choice, even if he had given her none.

  Whispers filled the open space as all turned to watch Emma approach. What he heard rankled and angered him, and he hoped Emma heard none of it.

  “Finally, the laird marries one he beds.”

  “Who does the lass think to fool with her hair unbound?”

  “I’ll wager the lass is already with child.”

  The last one stole his breath, and given the falter in Emma’s steps, he was certain it reached her ears on the afternoon’s breeze. Given the snap of Cortland’s head to the direction of the insult, he knew the old man had definitely heard it.

  He wanted to shout at his people to think about their words. Emma did not need to marry him, and all knew how desperately he needed to wed. They should all be on their knees in gratitude that Glenn will not be taking over these lands at nightfall and making their lives a misery. How quickly they forget who filled their bellies when they lay ill and too weak to make a meal.

  Despite the foul whispers, Emma strode toward him with her head held high, a testament to her fortitude, he believed. Cortland stopped before him and held his gaze. In the man’s eyes, he reheard every word that had been spoken to him earlier in the day. What he actually heard were the threats should he be anything less than a fine husband to the lass he claimed as daughter. If Declan held any question of the man’s loyalty, it had been answered. Emma came first.

  Once Cortland nodded, he turned to face his bride. “You honor me.”

  “Laird,” she said with no smile. Looking down at Mary, she said, “Hello, sunshine. You are so beautiful in your new gown.” Finally, her voice held the passion he had come to expect from her. I want her to share that vibrancy with me.

  “We are the same,” Mary said as she touched the green silks of Emma’s skirts, cut from the same bolt as the dress she wore.

  Declan cleared his throat, in part to begin and in part to erase the husky tone left from his illness. Before he could speak, he heard the loud cries of a wee one.

  “Em, Em, Em,” the child in Aalish’s arms bellowed.

  Emma laughed and winked at Mary. “I’ll be right back.”

  The gathered crowd parted to allow Emma a path to Aalish. The small lad squealed in delight, and he leapt into her arms. In moments, the quiet air filled with the sounds of a loud kiss and the child’s laughter. Declan couldn’t tear his gaze away as wee Thomas leaned in and tried to place the same kiss to Emma’s cheek. From what he could see, it only resulted in her cheek full of drool. Wiping the slobber from her face, she handed the child back and returned to his side.

  “Sorry about that,” she mumbled while she bent to wipe her hand on the grass.

  Whispers filled the air.

  “She is fine with the wee ones.”

  “Mayhap she will give the laird more bairns.”

  “Did you ken she fetched me water when I was ill.”

  The old women had quickly changed their tune. Emma pretended not to notice, but he saw her head shake in mild disgust at the finicky gossip.

  Declan held out his hand and inhaled when Emma placed her hand on his. Clasping her tightly, he turned and nodded at Cortland before facing his people. “Cortland gifts me with his daughter, Emma. In the past weeks, Emma has been a welcome addition to our clan. She saved many in battle, saved my Mary from fever, saw you fed when you were too sick to tend your needs, and her gentle hands bathed my brow as I fought for my life.” He paused long enough to let loose a well-timed cough. “Emma has proven herself to be a fine wife to the Draig in many ways.”

  He lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss to her knuckles, noting the quick parting of her lips. Releasing his hold on her, Declan read the marriage contract to the gathering. While not the original from the week before, Emma had signed it. The current one still gave her full right to Mary should need arise and named her as wife to the Draig Laird. He knew from Cortland she had been quite displeased that Cortland’s lands had been written in as her dowry, but such things were expected. Only after he had told her that the lands would be gifted back, did she sign.

  The crowd cheered and clapped as he held the contract in the air over his head for all to witness. Rolling the contract, he handed it to William to safeguard. With Emma’s hand once again in his, he held out their joined hands while Cortland took the strip of plaid from his shoulders.

  “Declan, Laird of the Draig, do you claim Emma for your wife?” Cortland asked as he held the fabric over their hands.

  “Aye, Cortland,” he answered loud and strong.

  “Emma, Daughter of Cortland, do you take Declan for your husband?” Cortland beamed at the formal use of her name.

  “Yes, I do,” Emma replied, loud enough for all to hear. Only his ears caught her mumbled, “You never said I had to marry the laird.”

  Declan chuckled as Cortland bound their hands with the plaid. Turning to face her, he whispered, “You marry both of us.”

  Humor lit her eyes, and a soft laugh followed. Hope blossomed in his chest that Emma could handle both sides of him. Before she could reply, he pulled her close with his free hand and placed a hard kiss to her grinning mouth. While he wanted much more from their first kiss as a married couple, the laird did not care for public displays.

  Turning her to face the cheers of the village, she surprised him by unwrapping her hand and kneeling before Mary. When the crowd quieted, she said, “You weren’t given any choice in any of this today, so I wanted to give you one now.” Emma pulled a green ribbon from inside her sleeve and tied it around Mary’s wrist. “You know how much I love you, and I know that you love me. Because of that love, I want to claim you as my own. Will you let me?”

  Mary screamed, “Aye,” and launched into Emma’s waiting arms.

  His wife ignored the gasps and murmurs from the crowd as she hugged his daughter and kissed her bound hair. Declan blinked in surprise as Mary broke free from Emma and held her wrist out for his inspection.

  “Da, Da, did you see? Emma married me too,” Mary squeaked with excitement as she jumped up and down.

  “Aye, Mary, I heard every word.” His gaze left his child, and he held out his hand to help Emma rise to her feet. When she stumbled lightly on her bad ankle, he pulled her close. “Do you ken what you have done?” His voice aired his confusion over the event he had just witnessed.

  Smiling blue eyes held his. “If I did that right, I made Mary mine.”

  Taking her face in his hands, Declan studied her for any sign of confusion and found none. “What you have done is more than that. It keeps Mary as my heir. You have made he
r known as your child.”

  “Great, that was my goal.” Emma beamed at him.

  If Emma had awed him in the past weeks, none of that compared to what she had just done. He knew that Emma would love and protect Mary, but claiming his child surpassed every hope and dream he had for his daughter’s future. How could she be willing to have any child she might bear come second to my daughter?

  “Emma,” Declan started to say but had no concrete thought behind it.

  “You said I could raise her as I see fit, and I see her as the firstborn child. Did you really think I would be so cruel as to take away her birthright?” Emma asked with her hands resting on his that held her face.

  All he knew was that the tanner’s daughter would have tolerated Mary within the household, but her children would have been the heirs; such matters had been spoken. Emma could have asked for anything, and he would have given it. In truth, he expected her to demand it. Now he hoped his life with her would constantly be filled with such wonderful surprises.

  “I have no words for what you have done, wife,” Declan said, his awe stealing his thoughts. She wanted to say more, but he gave her no opportunity. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers over and over until she leaned into him and her lips softened. It was not the quick ceremonial kiss; the kiss was what the man in him wished to give her. Soft kisses with her skin in his hands and her hands resting on his chest. Her mouth opening for him as his tongue flicked her lips. He tasted her sweetness and honesty and was lost in a haze of desire for her, until Cortland tapped his shoulder.

  “I think that ‘tis enough gratitude,” Cortland said as Declan reluctantly broke the kiss.

  Feeling her cheeks heat in his hands at the whoops and cheers from the crowd, Declan placed one more soft peck to her lips. “Wife, I am the most fortunate of men.”

  Emma laughed and slipped from his hold. Facing Cortland, she asked, “Did I do that right?”

  “Aye, Emma. You make me proud in so many ways.” Cortland beamed.

  Declan smiled as his wife wrapped her arms around the man who claimed her as father, and a thought crossed his mind. “Do I call you Cortland or Da?”

  Cortland laughed and scowled all at the same time over Emma’s head. “You call me Cortland. However, wee Mary may call me grandfather if she wishes.”

  Mary jumped up and down. “I have a mother and a grandfather. Oh, thank you for marrying Emma, Da.”

  Scooping up his child, he said, “I only wished to marry Emma and none other. We are both verra pleased.”

  “I need to show my ribbon to Brina,” Mary said, squirming out of his hold. In a blink, she was dashing through the crowd to find her friend.

  Emma kissed Cortland’s cheek and turned to face him. “I should go with her and make sure Aalish is comfortable with what I did. I don’t want her to think I’m trying to take her place.”

  Again, his wife amazed him with her thoughts of her friend. Taking the piece of plaid from his wrist, he draped it over Emma’s shoulder. “Now you may find your companion.”

  Her gaze narrowed on him. “Are you marking me?”

  “Aye, all will see you belong to me,” he answered. You are mine.

  She stepped closer. “And exactly who do I belong to?”

  Mischief glinted in her eyes, and she expected to hear that the laird marked her. He once again held her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles fully aware of the shiver she tried to hide. “You belong to all of me.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, and then she smiled at him and laughed. Her eyes rolled as she pulled away. “Don’t let the laird hear you talking like that.”

  “Go see Aalish,” Declan told her, and that quickly she was gone from his side.

  “My daughter smiles. Keep it that way,” Cortland said with no trace of humor.

  Declan faced the challenging gaze of the man. “I heard your threats this morn, old man. Emma will be treated with great care all of my days.” With the practice of many years, he schooled his features and hoped Cortland did not see the lie.

  “Your gaze drifts to the paths. What are you watching for?” Cortland asked.

  The man never failed to amaze him. He had thought he watched with enough stealth. “I wait for the signal my uncle rides in.” Declan explained riders down the trail that led to his gates and the fire signals in place to allow for warning. “The marriage needs to be completed before my uncle steps foot on my lands.”

  Cortland nodded and glanced at Emma who was surrounded by the women of the village. “I ken it, but you speak of my daughter. See her treated as she deserves.”

  Thankfully, he had no need to answer as his warriors intruded on the conversation with good wishes and many slaps on the back. Given that Cortland stood near, none dared to offer tasteless comments about bedding the bride.

  After many wishes, he found himself face to face with the Tanner. “You have done well, Laird,” the man offered.

  “Aye, Mathew, I am a pleased man, though I stand in your debt. Had Emma refused my offer, it would have been your daughter in her place.” He said the right words but inwardly cringed at the notion of being tied to the lass. While curvy in all the right places, Mathew’s daughter would have wilted before the laird and what would come later in the day. His life would have been void of the promise he currently felt in his heart.

  “‘Tis fitting you are bound to Cortland. I hold no ill will over the matter. My daughter, on the other hand, pouted quite loudly when she saw your wife’s gown. But then most lasses are swayed but such finery.” After a slap to his back, Mathew added, “You have done well. I am shamed over what I asked of you. The whole of the village adores Mary and is pleased to see her place secure.”

  “As am I,” Declan replied. The man took his leave, and for the first time in what seemed like hours, he was alone. His people feasted on the plentiful food prepared and drank his wine. Conversation and laughter filled the air, and he took the moment to savor the peace on his lands and prayed it held an omen of what was to come.

  Spying Emma and Aalish off to the side, he strode up behind them. Unseen by the pair, he heard Aalish speak to Emma.

  “So, you married the laird.”

  Emma drank deeply from the cup in her hand. “Yep. You know why. While I have nothing against Ina, we both know she wouldn’t have taken good care of Mary. The girl isn’t exactly known for her fondness for the young children.”

  Declan brushed away the idea that Emma had married him for only his daughter’s sake, or at least tried to.

  “And ‘tis the only reason?” Aalish teased. “I thought there was more.” So Aalish agrees with me, that there is fire and promise between Emma and myself.

  “Remind me to stop telling you everything. We were extremely drunk,” Emma said, glancing down at her feet. His hopes rose that she had spoken enough of that night to make Aalish question her motives for marriage.

  “I wasn’t exactly given a lot of time to think it through.” Emma spoke of hearing Mary laugh outside her door, and the impulse to care for his daughter had taken control. “I really hope I haven’t let a few kisses cloud my judgment.”

  Aalish pried the details of the conversation he’d had with Emma and his attempts to sway her decision. “Emma, if Declan only wanted to marry you for the sake of duty, he would have tried to command you. Instead, he offered reassurances and promises, the type lasses wish to hear from a suitor.”

  Emma frowned. “So he told me what I wanted to hear?” Declan questioned if that had been his intent and brushed it away. He had spoken from his heart and hoped some of that had been the reason Emma stood as his wife.

  “Nay, Declan has never told anyone what they wished to hear.” Both women chuckled at his expense. “He made you fine promises, and you claim to have wanted the man not so many nights ago.”

/>   Emma’s grumbled response brought laughter to Aalish. “We were drunk. Do you think I have time to get drunk now?” Emma asked, taking a fresh cup from one of the serving women.

  “You dinna need the drink. You have a fine, handsome man. That should be enough to heat your blood.” Aalish peered over her shoulder and caught him listening. She shook her head and turned back to Emma.

  “You do more than save our Mary, you save us all. We will all sleep better kenning Declan stays to care for us.” Though the woman leaned in to whisper, Declan heard every word as he approached. “Will it be enough for you?”

  “I hope so,” Emma muttered.

  “What do you hope, wife?” Declan asked, stepping next to her and wrapping his arm around her slender waist.

  Both women laughed as wee Thomas, who was held by Emma, leaned over and pushed Declan away. “It appears he doesn’t like to share, or maybe I’ve already found a new man,” Emma teased.

  “Some jests hold no humor,” Declan said as he made a face at the child who only giggled. “Besides, he seems a wee bit too short for you, nay to mention, he drools.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the torch at the path that led into the forest. Raising his hand to the warrior, the man held the torch still over his head. Quickly calculating the signal, his uncle approached but not at a gallop, and the signal began leagues away from his lands. He had a rough idea how much time he had to consummate the marriage, but no idea how long it would take him to coax Emma into his bed.

  His gaze shifted to Meggie, who waited patiently near the gates. With a nod, she began her walk to Emma’s side. “You need to give the bairn back to his mother. Meggie comes to take you to the keep.”

  “Why?” Emma asked as she wrinkled her nose at the child.