The Draig's Wife

by Lisa Dawn Wadler

  Cortland stood and walked around the table to embrace William and speak softly to him. He then did the same to each man at the table. Emma didn’t need to hear the words to know they hinted at the potential for failure.

  Turning to Declan, William held out his sword. “Glenn holds the claymore of your ancestors. You will need a blade, take mine.”

  Rising to his feet, Declan took the offering that spoke of more than a simple sword; it spoke of oaths. “You honor me beyond telling. You have my thanks for standing at my side.”

  William nodded and turned to Emma with his arms wide. Stepping close, her arms wrapped around his neck as he gently held her. Declan’s grunt let everyone know he wasn’t pleased with the show of affection. Pulling back enough to see her face, he said, “I have no blade to offer you.”

  Emma glanced at the crutch against the table. “I have one, but don’t worry. You’d be surprised at how quickly I can take a man down with that.” She heard Declan’s soft laughter. “I will see you tomorrow night. Don’t forget to come get me when it’s all over. I’d hate to miss the celebration.”

  Placing a kiss to her hair, William laughed. “I will seek you, Emma.” With a final nod, he left to join the men outside.

  The sound of horses filled the evening as Declan and Cortland watched them ride away. With a glance at Declan, Cortland said, “Declan and I need to speak.” Then the men left her alone in the cottage.

  She had no idea how long they talked, but the meal had been cleaned up, and dough for the morning’s bread had been made and left to rise on the table.

  After what seemed like hours, Cortland entered and opened his arms wide. Without thought, she leapt into them and breathed him in. “Where’s Declan?” she asked against his shirt.

  “He waits outside so you and I may have our moment.” Cortland pulled back enough to see her but kept her in his arms. “In all ways, you have been my daughter. To say you have brought meaning to my life is nay enough. Do you truly ken my love for you?” He asked with his pale blue eyes gazing down upon her.

  “Why do I feel like you are saying goodbye?” Emma choked on the sudden burst of love for the man.

  “No one ken what the morrow holds, so I go into battle with my heart spoken. Hear me, Daughter of my Heart, your love and companionship fill my soul. We once faced death with these words left unsaid. Nay the morrow. We go into battle with our hearts secure in our bond.” Cortland paused and cupped her cheek with a calloused palm. “That being said, you carry my grandchild. I would ask you to remain here where you are both safe.”

  With tears pricking her eyes, she whispered, “I can’t, not even for you. The child I love needs me. I can’t sacrifice one for the other.”

  With a nod, he said, “‘Tis the answer I expected, and one I ken.” He let her go to point at the curtain to his bedroom. “In my chest lies the deed for this land with your name added. All is yours if I fall. William is marking the trail here for you to be able to find your way back. At every split, an X will be carved on the false path. Do you ken my meaning?”

  “I take the trail not marked,” Emma replied as she nearly drowned in the grief at the thought of coming back alone.

  “If needed, sleep in the woods with Mary. The trail will be easy to follow in the light of day. Under no circumstance do you seek Aalish. Heed me, Emma.”

  “Fine, no village,” she agreed. While seeing Aalish felt like a fantasy, she’d only be alone with Mary if things went horribly wrong and they failed. Glenn’s men would be looking for Mary at the very least.

  Cortland gave her a soft smile, and Emma summoned her strength to attempt to convey everything in her heart. “All of my life I wondered what it would be like to have a father. You have been more than I could have ever dared to dream about with your love. Thank you for being this for me and for everything you have done for me. I love you, and even that doesn’t quite mean enough.” Blinking away tears, she pleaded, “Please be careful tomorrow. I can’t imagine the thought of you anywhere but with me. I need you.”

  Cortland placed a kiss to her forehead. “The fates can curse as easily as they can bless. But I do plan to draw breath to place the first sword in my grandchild’s hand. So, if any are to walk with caution, it needs to be you. Protect the lass we love and carry this one in safety.”

  Emma nodded and smiled at the idea of a baby sword. It worked in her mind, and she decided she hadn’t really pegged Cortland as the teddy-bear type. “We will both be careful, deal?”

  “Deal. Now that we have shared our hearts, I am off to the village. For many a year, I have waited and searched for news of a missing wife. Now that I ken for certain she has left this life, another waits for promises to be made.”

  Emma grinned despite the farewell. “I think Kathryn may have mentioned something about that to me a few times.”

  “As she has to me. I have made her wait and settle for less than she deserves. Tell me, daughter, do you wish me well as I go to seek her hand?” Cortland asked though his eyes glinted as if he knew that answer.

  “I like her,” she replied. Studying the man before her, she added, “Do yourself a favor and don’t make her think the only reason you are asking her now is because you question tomorrow’s outcome.”

  “Fine point,” Cortland agreed. His expression gave light to the idea never crossing his mind. “Any words you suggest?”

  Emma chuckled at the question laced with uncertainty, something she had never seen from Cortland. “I think you’ll be fine on your own. But to be on the safe side, tell her something like, ‘I will do everything I possibly can to return to you.’ Or that you could not even think about leaving tomorrow without her knowing how much to want to be with her.”

  Nodding, he thanked her for her wisdom. Glancing at the door, he said, “Declan is currently foul and angry. He wishes to argue with his wife on her foolish behavior at rushing into danger while she carries a child.” Before she could reply, he said, “Ken that I told him you go. Whether with him or me ‘tis the only fact unsettled.”

  Once the thought of a night arguing with Declan would have had her pulse racing for all sorts of wicked notions. Currently, it made her realize how much uneasy ground stood between them. “Thanks for the warning. I saw his face when it was decided I was going. I didn’t think it was over.”

  “Mayhap I should stay,” Cortland questioned.

  “No way. Go see Kathryn. I’ve got this,” Emma replied with a confidence she didn’t quite feel. “Am I going to see you later?”

  “If she accepts, you will see me in time for the morning meal,” Cortland said with a wink. “Go and speak with Declan. Speak all you would to him and hear his words. Leave nothing unsaid, or you may have regrets that haunt you all of your days.”

  Emma nodded and buried herself into Cortland’s hug. Holding on until she felt ready to face the next part of the evening, she wished him luck and stood silent while he walked out the door.

  Declan’s offer of wedding feast reached her ears and then the farewell offered. Footsteps faded out of her hearing, and she forced her body to face the next confrontation knowing that she would likely be arguing with the laird.

  Her feet left the smooth wooden floors of the cottage and crunched lightly on the beaten dirt outside. As she expected, Declan sat on the bench, apparently waiting for her. Taking the steps necessary, she stood in front of him. “May I join”—he moved over—“you?”

  Declan’s emerald eyes were barely visible in the night with a waxing moon and only dim candlelight spilling from the cottage. Yet in them she could see his rage and his fear.

  Before she had completely settled on the bench, Declan was on his feet facing her. Letting out a sigh, she braced for the tongue-lashing that was written all over his face.

  “You are mad if you think to ride into battle on the morrow,”
Declan roared into the night. His diatribe on her need to protect her bairn, to stay safe, made perfect sense to her. Only a fool would risk their life when a better option was available.

  While he paced and ranted, she silently agreed with every word he said. The fight wasn’t meant for her, and she knew it. A warrior knew when they weren’t up to the challenge, and her body wasn’t exactly in top condition. Despite his anger, she let his concern wash over her when he said it was his duty to protect her at all costs.

  When he stopped speaking, his ragged breathing filled the air. Holding out her hand, she calmly asked, “Will you please sit down so we can talk?”

  “Only if you are ready to agree with me,” he snarled at her.

  “I don’t want to argue with you, not tonight,” she answered with a soft smile.

  His features questioned what she had said and then his lips twitched in a grin. “You love arguing with me.”

  Nodding, she quickly agreed. “We need to talk, not yell at each other. Please sit.” When he stared at her unmoving, she told him, “So you know, you’re right. I should stay here.”

  A smug victorious grin covered his face, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Finally, Declan calmed enough to sit beside her. She took his hand in hers and for a moment marveled in the heat that intertwined with hers and continued. “But I’m going anyway.”

  “Emma,” he growled, clearly ready to rant and rave.

  “No, Declan. Now it’s my turn.” Staring at their hands, she squeezed his lightly. “You need to know why.” Ignoring his growl, she began with a story she had never planned to tell.

  “When I was ten years old, I was sick with a fever and a horrible aching cough. It was probably something similar to what you and Mary had. My mother wasn’t home, which was nothing new. She used to leave for days at a time with whatever loser she found. Anyway, it got worse, and I was still alone.”

  “Scared and weak, I called my grandparents. They dropped everything to come get me and save me. I went home with them and stayed. They went to court and gained legal custody of me with no interference from my mother. Many years later I found out she never tried to keep me.

  “In hindsight, it was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. But at the time, I wondered what was wrong with me that my mother couldn’t love me enough.” Emma turned her head and held the green eyes that stared at her. “I won’t have Mary wondering why I never came. She will know, one way or another, that I came for her and that I loved her more than life.”

  Taking advantage of his silence, she added, “No one has ever heard that story of how I was abandoned by the person who was supposed to love me, not even Cortland. Even after all the years, thinking about it hurts more than I can ever express and probably always will.” Squeezing his hand, she said, “Mary will never doubt my love for her. I won’t argue with you. I’m going.”

  Declan lifted their joined hands and placed a kiss to her knuckle. “Mary kens of your love for her.”

  Risking the argument, she added, “Yes, she does. Yet she is alone without either one of us. She’s so young and must be terrified.” Thinking back to their wedding, she said, “I claimed her because I wanted to, because I needed to give her that type of security in life. That claim is still there.”

  Using his free hand, he turned her face to hold his gaze. “As is my claim to you. What we have has nay ended.” Mischief flitted in his eyes. “I will always recognize the oath you gave my daughter, to take her as your own. But ken that claim comes second to the one we share. Parchment has no power of what was spoken between us. To claim Mary, you must also claim me.”

  Leave it to Declan to find the loophole, she thought. “Once again tonight you are correct.” Immediately his eyes brightened, and he leaned his forehead against hers with a sigh. Is that relief I hear?

  “Tell me you will answer when I call you wife,” his rough voice demanded. She heard more than the spoken words; she heard his impassioned plea.

  Instead of answering him, she questioned, “Are you willing to accept that I’m going with you tomorrow?”

  Immediately, he pulled away from her. The laird responded with a voice as hard as stone. “My wife and my bairn stay here.”

  With futility filling her belly, she rose to feet. “Then we have nothing left to say tonight.” With that said, she walked back into the cottage.

  Chapter 32

  The rage she had carefully avoided outside with Declan took control. In so many ways, he frustrated her beyond comprehension. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Emma threw her boots at the wall and hated the unsatisfactory thump they made. She had wanted a large crash to echo the chaos of her thoughts. Glancing at the doe-skinned items on the floor, she knew something heavier would have been louder.

  She’d bared her darkest secret to Declan, yet he still didn’t understand her intense need to be there, to go for the child she loved. Unwrapping her still-swollen ankle, Emma stood and tested the weakness. Yeah, it hurts, but it’s not crippling. Taking the few steps to the small window, her body held up. She’d go to Draig lands with a wrapped ankle. If there was a test to pass in her mind, it had been achieved.

  Outside, she could hear Declan pacing the trampled earth. His mutters filled the quiet night without any clarity. She knew the argument would continue after the time out she’d taken. Her only decision became how to take control of the situation. With her gaze on the night sky, a clear path evaded her.

  Eventually, Declan’s steps reached the cottage door. The sound of his boots being removed thumped at the doorway. She smiled despite the battle to come—for a big, brave laird, he was intimidated by Kathryn’s insistence mud stay outside.

  The footfalls that echoed at her back were even and measured. Emma knew that meant she was about to face the stubborn laird, again. A soft smile crossed her lips when she realized she needed the man.

  Taking the offensive, with her gaze still out the window, Emma asked, “Do you realize how much I told you outside?”

  Footsteps ceased. “You shared much, yet heard naught,” the laird challenged.

  Turning to face the tall masculine frame, his features dimmed by the candlelight at his back, she asked, “What do you think I didn’t hear? You want me safe.” When he would have spoken, she held up her hand to silence him. “Why is it so wrong for me to want to be by your side? What happens tomorrow affects everyone I love. Not to mention you need me to find Mary and get her out to safety.”

  She assumed his shoulders slumped slightly because of her lack of compliance. Taking a step closer to him, she rested her hands on his chest. “I don’t want to argue with the laird anymore. I want the man I love to talk to me.”

  Declan’s hands covered hers with a strong grip. Up close, she could see his face soften while his gaze searched hers for any sign of weakness. “I failed to protect you from the moment you arrived on my lands. You were injured in the battle in the village. They nearly killed you within the sanctity of our chamber. Even my plan to save you resulted in you being injured.” His voice cracked with the next statement. “At every turn, I have failed you. My duty is to keep you safe. Let me do so.”

  Leaning forward, Emma kissed the lips that had finally admitted the crux of the matter. In all that had happened, she had never once considered his pride or that in his time that was his duty. That hers was to be weak and helpless simply didn’t mesh with who she happened to be. Is it all so simple?

  Smiling at him, she said, “You should have married the girl from the village. She would have hid behind you at every turn. I prefer to stand with you, armed if needed. The way I see it, we need to stand together much like the two beasts that make up the Draig symbol.”

  Declan inhaled sharply. “What do you mean?”

  “The dragon on the knife, the one on your arm, and the one in the tapestry. They are two creat
ures joined together,” Emma told him, surprised that he was shocked.

  Declan chuckled and lifted one of her hands from his chest to press a kiss to her palm. “I had the same thought about the creature only nights ago.”

  It was Emma’s turn to laugh. “Seriously? I saw the harmony the moment I first stared at the tapestry.” Even now, she could remember staring at the embroidery while waiting for her first conversation with Declan. They’d argued then, and his quick touch had left her dazed and shaken for days.

  “You are wise and brave,” Declan told her with loving eyes holding hers. “Where is it, Emma? Where is the dagger you insult by calling it a mere knife?”

  Her eyes flitted to the chest at the end of her bed. Declan immediately pulled away and took the item from the chest and held it in his hands. Once again in front of her, he dropped to his knees, which created a lump in her throat she couldn’t swallow away.

  “I left my dagger for you two nights ago to make certain you kenned my love for you. My words meant naught then, and I ken why. Yet you kept it. In doing so, you kept me. Tell me that was your intent.”

  Staring down at the earnest emerald eyes, she nodded. “I knew.” Or at least part of me did. Shaking her head, she admitted, “I was too hurt that night to talk to you and too much in love with you to give it back again.”

  Holding out the pommel of the dagger, he said, “Take it from me now and ken that it signifies you are mine. The dagger has always been held by the woman loved and claimed by the Draig Laird. It belongs with you.”

  Before she could reply, he added softly, “Should I fall on the morrow, see it delivered to Mary’s hands when she finds the man who will become her other half.” His voice choked before he added, “Or see it given to the hands of our wee one.”

  Where she wanted to joke away the horror in what he had asked, Emma nodded. It was a solemn request and one that needed to be honored. Moisture blurred her vision when she took the metal into her hands. Once he had given it to her before a room full of spectators and she had silently hoped he had meant at least part of what he had said. Even with everything he had put her through, she knew he loved her, and his simple gifting of the dagger filled the empty aching places of her heart.