Felicia was younger by a good ten years. Both were widows with children of varying ages.
“What be the matter?” he asked, confused by their response to his offer.
The two women cast a glance at each other before turning back to him. ’Twas Amartha who spoke up first. “M’laird, I have three children to tend to. I can no’ possibly come to work fer ye.”
He knew for a fact that her children were nearly grown. Hell, her oldest was nearing six and ten and already training with his warriors.
“As do I, m’laird,’ Felicia Bowie added.
While her sons were not as old as Amartha’s, they were still old enough to help in the keep. Why were they so reluctant?
“Amartha, yer children are old enough to tend to themselves. As fer ye, Felicia, I thought yer lads old enough to work in the keep. They could fetch water and kindlin’ and the like.”
Another furtive glance between the two women. Aye, there was something definitely amiss.
“I fear I can no’ help ye, m’laird,” Amartha reiterated.
Felicia nodded her head rapidly in agreement.
Alec crossed his arms over his chest and studied each of them closely. Instinct was telling him there was much more to their unwillingness to assist his wife.
“Could ye no’ use the extra coin?” he asked. “I am willin’ to pay ye quite handsomely.”
Their furtive glances back and forth were beginning to annoy him. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he gave a slow shake of his head. “Why do ye both just tell me the real reasons why ye are refusin’ to work in the keep.”
Felicia swallowed hard and stepped noticeably closer to her cohort. Amartha, mayhap because she was older, was far less afraid of her laird. “I will tell ye the why of it m’laird,” she said as she pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. “There be no’ a woman in this clan who will come to work fer yer wife. No’ a one.”
Her explanation did nothing but raise his ire. “What do ye mean?” he asked, as he placed his hands on his hips and leaned over to look her in the eye.
She barely flinched. Felicia, however, let go her grip on her friend’s arm and took a few steps back.
“I mean exactly what I said, m’laird,” she said with an affirming nod. “There be none here who will work in this keep, at least no’ fer her.”
Her. The word dripped venomously from her tongue.
“Why?” he asked, through gritted teeth.
“Because she be no’ a Bowie,” Amarath replied haughtily.
It made absolutely no sense to him. For clarification, he asked, “Do you mean to tell me, that no one will come to work in the keep because me wife is no’ a Bowie?”
“Aye, I mean just that, m’laird. No one wants her here. Ye should ne’er have married the likes of her. Ye should have married within the clan.”
With that, he reached the end of his patience.
Spinning on his heel, he began shouting for his men as he made his way toward the foyer. “Gylys! Kyth!” he bellowed as he stomped across the room. Before leaving, he turned to face the two women. “Neither of ye are to leave that spot until me order! Do ye understand?”
There was no mistaking his fury. The women remained silent, answering with fast nodding heads.
Gylys came from one side of the gathering room, while Kyth entered through the foyer. “M’laird, what be the matter?” Kyth asked.
“I want every woman within five miles of this keep assembled at once. In the courtyard in the next quarter hour. Every one of them,” he ground out through gritted teeth. “If they refuse, they can bloody well consider it an act of treason and will be thrown as far away from this clan as possible!”
Neither man had the courage to ask why he was making such an order. Bounding up the stairs two at a time, Alec went to his wife. He would need more information about who had refused his orders before he set his clan on its side.
Within half an hour, the womenfolk and their husbands, were assembled in the yard where the men trained. Alec chose that spot for two reasons. One, ’twas the only place large enough to hold all of them, and two, ’twas far enough away from their bedchamber that Leona would not be able to hear what was about to take place.
Stepping onto the small stage they sometimes used to watch the men during training, he made no attempt to hide his anger. Gylys, Kyth, and Dougall stood directly in front of the stage, with arms crossed over their chests and feet planted apart.
Looking out at the crowd, Alec shook his head with disgust. His people were as quiet as they were perplexed by the sudden demand for their presence. As per his order, Amartha and Felicia stood front and center, just steps away from the stage.
“It has just now been brought to my attention,” he began as he glared at Amartha and Felicia, “that me clan has decided they do no’ like me wife. They have decided amongst themselves to treat her poorly and with disrespect. Nay because she be a mean, vile woman. Nay, ye do this because ye’re angry with me for marryin’ outside the clan. Ye’re angry with my choice of a bride.”
As he spoke, he could see some women shrinking away, whilst others donned proud, haughty expressions. The men, however, were looking at him as if he’d lost his mind. ’Twas just as he thought; ’twas the womenfolk and their jealousy at play here.
“Because ye be angry with me, ye’ve taken it upon yerselves to make me wife suffer. Instead of comin’ to me with yer concerns or worries.” He gave a slow, appalled shake of his head. “Never in all me days have I been more ashamed of a group of people!” He drew out his words slowly.
Next, he spoke directly to Charles Bowie. “Charles, ye and I had an agreement, did we no’, fer ye to bring me wife a bit of milk each day?”
Charles blinked in confusion. “Aye, we did. And I have sent milk to her nearly every morn, Alec, just as ye asked.”
“No’ according to me wife,” Alec replied angrily as he looked directly at Charles’s wife.
“But, Alec! I swear we have sent it!” ’Twas then he noticed Alec staring directly at his wife. Turning his attention to her, Charles asked, “Myra?”
She refused to look at him. Instead, she stared at the ground at her feet. Her cheeks burned brightly with either shame or embarrassment. “Myra?” he asked again, this time, taking her shoulders in his hands and forcing her to look at him. “Ye said ye were takin’ her the milk. Why did ye lie?”
In a low, harsh whisper, she said, “I will no’ discuss it with ye here, Charles.”
While Charles chastised his wife, Alec turned to his next target. “Philip!” he shouted, drawing the man’s attention. “Ye sold me venison, did ye no’?”
“Aye, I did, and fer a good price,” the man replied with a raised brow.
“Then I would like me money back, fer ’twas never brought to us.”
Astonished, Philip first turned to his son, a lad of mayhap three and ten. “Did ye no’ take the venison to our mistress as I asked?”
His son was just as surprised as his father. “Mum said no’ to!” he exclaimed as they both stared at May Bowie.
“Dewey Bowie!” Alec called out at the crowd as he searched for the man and his wife.
The man stepped forward with a look of shame. “Let me guess, no wood was brought to ye.”
Alec nodded and looked out at his people. His thoughts turned to the day his wife had been locked in the tiny room. He wondered if the person responsible was out there, amongst his people. Had their anger over his decision to marry Leona reduced someone to the point of attempting to murder his wife? Had that been their intent all along? Were they so incensed, so angry over it they would stop at nothing to undo his decision? It was entirely possible they hadn’t meant just to scare her.
His people.
There stood someone among them who had tried to kill his wife.
The thought sickened him.
As the crowd murmured and men argued with their wives, he closed his eyes and counted to ten before speaking again. “I married L
eona MacDowall to bring peace to our clan. She be a fine young woman who has done no’ a thing to deserve yer mistreatment.” He paused long enough to draw a breath. “It ends here. It ends now.”
He gave one last lingering glance at his people before stepping down from the stage and returning to his wife. Alec could only pray that the person responsible for locking his wife away understood, unequivocally, the underlying message of his words.
Oh, poor, poor Leona! Bah! ’Tis nothin’ more than a bump on her head. No more than wee scratches on her hands and they all look after her as though she’d just been wounded in battle. Just wait until I get my hands on her. She’ll know true sufferin’ then.
But I must be careful. I can no’ move too quickly. I need to wait until Alec realizes just how much he really loves her. Then, and only then, can I make my move.
I lay in bed at night just thinkin’ of all the ways I can kill her. So far, I be favorin’ the knife. Oh, to slice that pretty face! To carve out those wicked, witch eyes of hers. To make her scream and suffer and pray fer mercy. But I shan’t show her any, for she deserves none.
Chapter 22
The healer had finally arrived, long after the midnight hour. In the interim, Alec had done his best to keep his wife awake, though ‘twasn’t easy. The poor lass was exhausted, and he knew ’twas all his own fault. He had treated her with little care or respect these past weeks. Paying no attention to her unless she was in his bed.
I am such a fool. No better than a cur.
Though he didn’t have the courage to apologize outright, he had decided he would do his very best to make it up to her. Just how he would manage to do that remained a mystery, but he was going to try.
He let Mairi into the bedchamber, glad and relieved to see her. He hoped he hadn’t muddled the stitches or made his wife’s condition worse.
Leona remembered her, albeit vaguely, from her very first visit to the Bowie keep. Mairi had been the one to tend to the injuries she had received at Rutger’s hands. Mayhap in her mid-thirties, she was a beautiful woman, with bright, light brown eyes and light brown hair, twisted into a long braid.
Alec greeted her at the door, looking much relieved to see her.
“I got here as soon as I could,” she explained as she stepped into the bedchamber.
“How be Tomas’s wife?” Leona asked as she sat upright in bed.
“She had a beautiful girl. A big beautiful girl. Deanna will be well in a few days,” she explained as she sat on the bed next to Leona.
“That is good to hear,” Leona replied with a tired smile.
“Ye look exhausted,” Mairi remarked.
“She is,” Alec interjected as he stood beside her.
“I am fine, truly,” Leona argued gruffly, giving her husband an frustrated look of reproach.
“Ye can leave us now, Alec,” Mairi told him.
“I will stay.” His voice was firm, determined.
“Nay, ye will no’,” Mairi told him. “Ye’re goin’ to leave and ye’re goin’ to leave now. Elst I’ll no’ tend to yer wife.”
“Might I remind ye that I am yer chief and laird?” he asked, in perturbation.
“Ye can remind me of it all ye want after I look to yer wife. Now, be gone with ye.”
Leona had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Oh, how she wished she was a bit more like Mairi and able to speak to her husband in the same firm, no-nonsense tone.
For a long moment, Alec debated on whether or not he’d listen. “Verra well, but I shall be right outside the door should ye need me.”
“Nay, ye will no’,” Mairi said. “I need ye to go to the kitchen and heat water fer me.”
“I’ll have Gylys do it,” Alec told her.
“Nay, Alec, I need ye to do it,” she said. She still hadn’t looked at him. She was riffling through her satchel. “Please, Alec, do no’ argue it.”
Realizing he wasn’t going to win, he gave up and quit the room.
“Thank ye!” Leona exclaimed in a hushed tone.
“Ye be verra welcome, lass.”
“He has been hoverin’ over me all the day long.”
Mairi fished out clean bandages and several pouches. “Tell me what happened,” she said.
Leona explained the events of the day as best she could. “And he has had me in this bed ever since. He will no’ even allow me to use the chamber pot without his help. ’Tis maddening.”
Mairi smiled and gave a shake of her head. “’Tis because he cares, lass.”
After the way Alec had behaved this afternoon, she no longer doubted he cared about her. Aye, it did make her feel happy and content to come to that realization.
“Ye should take advantage of this time, lass,” Mairi told her as she began to examine the stitches.
“Take advantage?” Leona asked.
“Would it no’ be nice to rest fer a day or so? From what I am told, ye’ve been working quite hard these past weeks.”
That much was true. “But I like takin’ care of Alec and our home. It makes me feel as if I have a purpose.”
Mairi frowned. “Yer purpose is to be his wife, the future mother of his children, and his strongest ally. No’ his personal slave.”
Leona laughed. “Alec did no’ make me his slave, Mairi. I am merely trying to …” She paused, trying to find the right words to explain everything without sounding like a simpleton.
Mairi quirked a brow. “Ye were tryin’ to impress him, aye?”
Leona gave a quiet nod. If she were to admit it, she was trying to get him to see her. To see her as more than just the woman who warmed his bed at night. She wanted, nay needed, more than that.
“I saw the way he looked at ye, lass. Ye needn’t worry.”
“Worry?” Leona asked with a furrowed brow.
Mairi smiled warmly. “Ye’ve impressed him.”
Much to Leona’s delight, Mairi had given her permission to sleep. Alec was not as certain as his healer that sleeping just yet was a good idea. “Verra well,” Mairi said as she packed up her satchel. “I now declare ye, Alec Bowie, the healer of our clan. Make sure ye check on Maude, down by the creek, on the morrow. She be due to give birth next month. And do no’ forget to check on Seamus. He has a boil that needs lancin’.”
Alec rolled his eyes, understanding full well what his healer was trying to do. “Fergive me, Mairi,” he said. “I shall no’ question ye again.”
Standing at the door, she smiled up at him. “Ye be forgiven. Most men do worry after their wives, especially those who are as fond of theirs as ye are of yers. Ye be no different than all the rest, Alec Bowie.”
Whether it was her knowing smile or the inflection in her tone, the way she said it set his teeth on edge. I am no like other men, he told himself. I am no’ some simple-minded weak fool.
He stood near the open door for a long while after Mairi left, staring at the dark, empty corridor. I am different, he mused. Aye, he cared for his wife, but that meant nothing. Any good man would.
Quietly, he closed the door, wondering just how his healer had come to the conclusion that he was fond of his wife and no different than all the rest. Never did he behave as Dougall did, kissing his wife in the presence of others. Nor would he ever give Leona a playful pat on her rump, at least not publicly. And he certainly would never declare his feelings for her with the same brazen passion as Dougall often did for Effie.
Nay, he was not like Dougall, or any other love-struck fool. Bah! He declared silently. Mairi is a foolish woman.
Leaving the matter to rest, he turned to look at the object of his consternation. She was asleep, on her side, with her hands resting on a pillow. Her lovely, honey colored hair splayed seductively across her pillow and onto his.
Desire rose spontaneously and instantly. Cursing it, he went to the basin and splashed cold water on his face. Me desire has nothing to do with me feelin’s, he whispered in his mind. What man wouldn’t want such a beautiful and desirable woman?
Quietl
y, he removed his clothes and tossed them to the floor by the door. ‘Twould be the first night since marrying her that he would not join with her. Nay, tonight she needed her rest, she needed to sleep. Mayhap in a few days, after her injuries had healed. Then, and only then, would he allow his ardor and lust for his wife to take a strong foothold.
His inner promise to leave his wife alone was long forgotten by morning time. He awoke to the warmth of her round bottom resting against his groin. The scent of her soap, feminine and floral, hung in the cool morning air. Her soft, steady breaths seemed to echo in the silent morning.
Alec made slow, passionate love to her, careful to avoid her injured head and hands. Leona did not seem to mind his early morning loving. In fact, she rather enjoyed it.
Once they both found their pleasure in one another, Leona fell fast asleep. ’Twas wholly unlike her to do so. Typically, she would wait until he fell asleep before she would slip out of their bed to go below stairs and begin her day.
But not this day. Nay, their roles would be reversed for the time being. Without giving much thought to it, Alec pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, slipped from the bed and dressed. As he entered the gathering room, he came upon Gylys, who had apparently slept in the chair beside the hearth.
“Gylys,” Alec called out. The man jumped to his feet and reached for his sword.
“Bloody hell, Alec!” Gylys ground out before letting lose the breath he’d been holding. “Ye scared the hell out of me!”
Alec laughed at his friend’s distress. “Me apologies, Gylys,” he said with a bow.
Confused by his laird’s unnaturally good mood, Gylys stared at him. “Ye seem to be in fine spirits this morn,” Gylys remarked.
Aye, he was. At any other time, he would have forced his smile away and glared angrily at anyone who might comment upon it. But not this morn. “I suppose I am,” he said with a shrug. “Leona is asleep. I have something I need to do. Keep a close watch on her, aye?”
The Bowie Bride: Book Two of The Mackintoshes and McLarens Page 27