The Draig's Choice

by Lisa Dawn Wadler

  Soft lips lingered on his cheeks. “No more about how long you were gone. Just tell me again that you are home to stay.” If she begged for the promise, he desired to give it.

  Lifting her chin with his finger, he smiled down at her. “I am home.” Her smile became the only reply he needed. Kissing her gently, his hands trailed over her dry hair until they met wet ends. “The water cools. Let us find our warm bed.”

  Sarah’s lips grinned against his. “Great idea.”

  With groans and little grace, they left the tub. Her bare toes pushed at her shift lying in a puddle of water. “Looks like that stays here.” Sarah laughed. “That should let the women know you are officially home.”

  Conall stared at the garment that made him recall so many others that had littered the floor of the chamber. “At least ‘tis nay torn.”

  “There’s always tomorrow,” Sarah teased as she handed him a drying cloth warmed by the fire.

  “Aye, we have a morrow to share. Such a fact fills me with such hope and promise.” Ignoring his wet body, he ran the cloth over every inch of her flesh and lingered on the wet portion of her hair. “I have missed you.”

  After encouraging her to warm her body in his robe, Conall lifted his shirt from the bench. “Wait,” Sarah insisted. At the far corner of the chamber, she opened the cabinet that held clean cloths and then brought him a new robe. “I asked them to make this for you, given that I’ve stolen yours.”

  The material in his hands felt soft and pristinely new. “You take the new one.”

  “No way. I’ve waited months for you to be here to wear it.” Her gaze followed his every move as he placed his arms into the robe and then tied the waist. “Perfect,” she whispered as she held onto the folds. Without another sound, Sarah turned and walked to the door, but failed to open it.

  When he reached her back, her hand stopped his from unbolting the lock. “The last time we left this haven a horrible man took you away from me.”

  With a kiss to her temple, Conall replied, “That will nay happen this eve. Only Bella waits for us.” As if hearing their conversation, the dog could be heard pacing in front of the door.

  Sarah stiffened and pressed her forehead to the door. “Tell me those women aren’t here for the reason I think they are.” When he froze, she added, “You’ve always been honest with me, don’t stop now.”

  Conall felt his shoulders sag but then wrapped his body around her back and held her womb. “The Bruce had demanded I set you aside and wed the daughter to make an alliance he trusted. I refused.”

  “But the argument isn’t over.” Sarah stated fact rather than a question.

  “‘Twas over upon our arrival. I told him I would ride home to find you heavy with our bairn even if I had no word of such. I felt it in my heart to be true. I told him our child would be my heir and that the Draig have always valued, above all, the woman claimed. A Draig Laird honors his ancestors and the ways of his clan before any other dictate.” Conall only took a deep breath when Sarah lifted her head and leaned back against him.

  “So then why were you locked away with him arguing?”

  “A wise wife is a blessing and a curse.” Conall tried to smile as she stilled in his arms. “The Bruce wants what he wants. He argues and I deny him. Given that our bairns will come soon, he will cease. I believe he hoped I would come home and nay wish for you as I had. The man may be a king, but he is a fool to doubt our love. You are mine.”

  Sarah reached and opened the door to Bella’s wagging tail. “Take me to bed, Conall.”

  She sees too much. Her questions cease even if the threat still remains. But I will never let her go.

  Taking her hand in his, he wondered if he would ever again leave the bathing chamber with a light heart.

  Chapter 37

  “You do realize I managed to walk down these stairs on my own?” Sarah teased as Conall guided her every step but she adored his attentiveness, especially with what waited for them in the hall.

  Her morning had started on what she could only think of as a perfect note. Beginning a new day, complete with sunshine streaming in the window, making love to Conall had been blissful. Well, after he escorted me down the hall to the garderobe. The lonely mornings she’d woken alone for endless months vanished in her mind.

  “Aye, I ken you are capable of much but prefer to see you tended. No longer are you alone,” Conall answered and she smiled at the gaze that she had ached to behold.

  His grin faded at the bottom step as he stopped. “You ken the hall will be one more battle.” It wasn’t a question, merely a fact that she had ignored for their stolen early morning together.

  “I know.” Her whisper carried dread instead of an argument that screamed of confidence and defiance toward the Bruce and his ruthless schemes. Her pregnancy may be honored and celebrated by Conall and the clan, but not by Robert. The ruler wanted alliances forged in marriages, regardless of bonds already established. She and Conall had agreed to face the challenge publicly as if it didn’t exist. But the stage and performers were in place to defy.

  Peter spent the early morning readying the warriors for a conflict never seen on Draig lands. Their role had become proving their unwavering allegiance to Sarah, a fact she had never doubted. The staff would be formal with her to the point of extreme excess, which would likely grate on her every last nerve. Word had been spread to the village of Sarah’s threatened place and that any who came in contact with her were to demonstrate their loyalty. The question remained: would it aid in swaying Robert?

  Standing on the last step, she wiped a sweaty palm over the new cerulean velvet gown, trimmed at the bodice, cuffs and hem with silver furs. While she had told Lena to keep her maternity wardrobe simple and functional, the housekeeper had prepared for every contingency. The same hand lifted to double check the hairstyle imposed on her by Lena. Riotous, frizzy curls remained tucked with only a few stray curls falling around her face and neck for effect.

  Conall twirled a curl at the base of her neck while he placed a kiss to her temple. “You are beautiful beyond telling. Come, Sarah. Let us show the Bruce how much you are loved and cherished on our lands. He will ken that only you will ever command my loyalty and love, that our bairns will be my heirs. I swear to you.” His voice rang with impassioned promises that she prayed he would be able to fulfill.

  Closing her eyes, she drew in a slow, deep breath to steady her nerves and then faced the man she had waited upon, the man who had been hers since the moment she laid eyes on him, the man who insisted she was his legend. “Showtime.”

  His head shook in denial. “‘Tis nay a show. You are loved and cherished by all. Think of it as merely a method for the clan to repay the dedication you gave them during my absence.”

  With a curt nod, she descended the last step and let Conall lead her into the hall that sounded of quiet conversations and the distant clatter of the morning meal. Yet all noise ceased as they strode into view. The warriors, who should have finished their meal some time ago, all rose to their feet and offered bows.

  Donald straightened and stepped to greet them. “A fine morn to you, Laird and Lady Sarah. The men and I rejoice at your return.”

  Conall placed his free arm on Donald’s shoulder. “A fine morn indeed. I am pleased to be with you all and to thank you for all you have done for my wife.”

  With a nod in her direction, Donald grinned. “As she cared for us, we have protected her and shall continue.”

  Sarah mutely acknowledged the compliment; she’d already been warned that the Bruce favored quiet women. Yeah, I’m likely to be able to keep my mouth shut for all of ten minutes.

  Conall greeted the men and then led her to the main act, a meal with Robert. The warriors sat only after they had passed them. Each serving woman managed to curtsy, even with arms loaded with trays. How do they do that?

  The hall didn’t boast a formal high table set on risers above the rest. The one closest to the fire served the purpose and gave the
occupants a complete view of those gathered and the front door. Robert sat at its center, his dark eyes taking in the scene created for his benefit. But Conall didn’t walk to meet him. Instead he sat her at a chair pulled up the end of the table and sat on the bench, keeping her at his right side, a time-honored position for the one closest to the laird.

  “Good morrow,” Evan greeted them from Robert’s side. “You both appear well rested.”

  Sarah bit her lips to prevent laughter from escaping. A bit of role reversal had happened at Evan’s expense. He had knocked on their door about an hour ago, only to be sent away, given their intimate embrace. Poor Evan had been treated to the same sounds and noises that others had been forced to endure when seeking him many months ago.

  “Aye, ‘tis a fine morn, brother,” Conall chuckled. “Forgive us for nay seeing you.”

  “Oh, you are forgiven.” Evan gave them an exaggerated wink. “We will speak later provided you dinna have other plans.”

  “While I wish my day only held lost hours with my wife, duty calls.” Sarah felt the heat spread over her face and down her neck at the innuendos spewing.

  To her surprise, Evan whispered to the Bruce and then both men rose to join them at the table’s end. Given the glower, she doubted the ruler adored making any sort of accommodations.

  “Forgive our seating, Robert, but the chair will provide greater comfort for my wife.” Conall held the man’s narrowed gaze and grinned. “We have much to celebrate. My wife will do more than give birth to an heir. She carries two of Draig blood and her comfort comes before all.”

  Robert’s mouth fell open as his eyes shifted to her. “Two bairns. Such occurrences are rare indeed.” She didn’t miss the lack of enthusiasm or the lack of pretense of congratulations.

  Thankfully, Lena approached the table to offer fresh platters of eggs, dried fruit, bread and other dishes. Sarah sighed in relief when the pickled fish was placed far away from her. Robena set the normal breakfast in front of her, a bowl of oatmeal covered in dried apples, two hard-boiled eggs, and a cup of goat’s milk. The diet long approved and encouraged by Brenda and Lena.

  “Thank you, Robena.” Sarah smiled at the young woman then frowned at the insanely low curtsy.

  “Aye, m’Lady.” No jokes or teases came from the vibrant woman. This just sucks. She normally gives me the gossip report of the day.

  The men loaded plates and passed the pitcher of ale. Then Bella was at her side, her head instantly in her lap and pushing against the babies. “Well, good morning to you.” Sarah rubbed the dog and smiled at Neil, who had taken the dog outside earlier.

  “Good morrow,” Neil greeted them with a deep bow. “Your fine beast has been fed and had quite a romp with the other dogs.”

  “Our gratitude, Neil,” Conall said as he motioned to the table. “Sit and join us. I would hear of the stables.”

  The stable master paled at the invitation, his glance darted to the Bruce and back to Conall, sheer apprehension covering him from head to toe.

  “Aye, tell me how the Draig livestock fare.” Robert motioned to the table. “I would ken your thoughts on care and breeding.”

  Neil reluctantly sat and then found his groove as he detailed the care given the horses ridden the night before and how each fared in the new day. Simple conversation filled the table as Sarah picked at her food, her stomach in knots at the proverbial blade hanging over her head.

  Observing every gesture and vocal intonation made by Robert, Sarah’s professional mind attempted to make sense of the scenario, given her lack of historical references. Classical Freudian would assume that his ego is functioning under too much influence of the id; given the ego operates under the precept of reason and the id is unreasonable. Practically ordering a loyal and dedicated man to abandon his wife and children, against his wishes, certainly qualifies as irrational. Did his parents fail to teach him moralistic goals, thus making his superego useless?

  I would love to get him to open up to me, for him to reveal what processes are actually going on in his brain, allow me to explore from a cognitive approach. What drives him? Is it merely a thirst for power? Or does he see the greater good in his machinations? Have the years of warfare depleted his neurotransmitter and endocrine function, leaving his system to operate in a depleted state?

  Then the rational side of her brain allowed in a thought from her personal experience. Is Robert the Bruce simply an asshole of epic proportions?

  Then conversation ceased at their table as Robert rose to his feet. With his eyes on the stairway, all heads turned to see Lady Jacqueline and her daughter, Colette, heading to their table. Robert whispered to Peter, who clenched his lips tight in response. With clenched hands, he rose and took leaden steps to the approaching woman.

  With a slight bow, Peter offered, “Allow me to escort you.” All the while, Robert smirked at her.

  Peter so does not want to be doing this, given his tense features. Why do I get the feeling this is some type of slam against me? My would-be cousin escorting the young woman brought here to replace me. Oh yeah, this is meant to be disrespectful to both of us.

  While Robert and Evan stood ready to greet the women, Conall stayed seated with his hand holding hers, complete with what she assumed was a reassuring squeeze. Feeling Conall’s eyes on her, she turned her head to watch Robert; his features brightened in a welcoming smile until he looked down at her. His cold gaze left chills creeping over her skin and his smirk signaled that he held the power and that nothing had been settled. Oh shit, this nightmare is real.

  After Lena had dressed her, Sarah would have admitted she felt ridiculously fancy, bordering on regal as intended. As the two women were seated, after the bench had been courteously pulled out for them, she decided no late sewing nor Lena’s preparedness, would ever match the fashions worn by women who had been assigned the category of rivals in her head. Academy award-winning costuming flitted in her thoughts at the rich fabrics she couldn’t name. Hard, unforgiving bodices ended at the flowing skirts that defied the concept of made by hand. Jacqueline’s ensemble in cranberry appeared embroidered with gold threads, while her daughter wore a forest green that highlighted her flawless skin and emphasized her almond-shaped brown eyes to perfection. The accents of silver thread only highlighted rather than stole from her. Colette could only be called a youthful beauty.

  Both had their dark hair done in intricate up-dos that she knew her curls would never tolerate. Lucky me. Not only are they here looking for what’s mine, but they’re also stunning.

  As if reading the self-deprecation racing in her mind, Conall’s hand stroked her neck, leading to a solitary finger running down her shoulder. He leaned close to whisper, “I have missed each and every freckle on your skin.”

  “They missed you,” she answered with a sigh of relief. Take that, pretty women. He digs me and my freckled-self.

  Evan broke the silence at the table. “Good morrow, ladies. I trust you had a pleasant rest.”

  Neil rose as Peter walked around the table and took Neil’s vacated seat next to Conall, after placing a kiss to her head. “Laird, my thanks for the invitation to join you, but I have duties to tend.” Neil strode to her side and rubbed Bella’s face. “Lady Sarah, Bella will be made welcome as she sees fit.” Without another word, he left.

  Lady Jacqueline sat next to Robert, with her daughter at her side and Evan next to the younger. What surprised her was the dog’s shift in position away from the space between her and Conall. Bella sat at the other side of her chair and stared at the older woman with her lips in a light snarl.

  Not good if the dog doesn’t like you either.

  Jacqueline gave a disgruntled appraisal of the meal on the table and huffed as clean plates were set before her. “I suppose we should have expected such given the household lacks of finer service.” The insult became a challenge when the woman whispered to her daughter and Sarah caught her mind noticing the language change. “Such problems will be remedied. I will make
certain of it.”

  Peter stiffened but ignored the comment not meant for their ears as Jacqueline continued. “To answer your polite inquiry, no, we did not rest with great comfort. Such a chill I have never known.”

  Evan waved away the complaint with a wide smile. “The chamber has nay been used. After a day or two with a fire lit, the chill will abate.” With a charm she hadn’t seen since his return, he focused on the silent Colette. “Did you also suffer?”

  The young woman blushed at being addressed. “I came to no harm and am certain you speak true. Empty chambers take time to lose their cold in winter. But I have never known such brutal weather.”

  The mother frowned at the conversation. Evan’s lips curved in a flirty grin. “The weather has already turned. The sun is bright and melts the ice. Have nay fears, all will be done to ensure your comfort.”

  Sarah blinked at the accommodating version of Evan and wondered what game he played after he gifted Colette with a wink that Mom didn’t appreciate. Jacqueline intruded into the flirting. “Break your fast, Colette. Even if the offerings are poor.”

  Sarah blanched at the rudeness, but Conall spoke. “The Highlands are verra different from what you ken. We live a simple life that consists of hard work and dedication. Our meals fill our bellies and for that we are grateful.”

  The passing serving women who overheard smiled in their tasks. Refusing to allow the snub, Sarah added, “Those in the kitchens serve what they have always served the clan. None go without and their efforts are always appreciated.”

  Jacqueline sighed after tasting the eggs. “I suppose simple people enjoy simple cuisine.”

  Forcing a smile at the comment delivered to be insulting, Sarah added, “Yes, we do.” So not going to allow you to bait me. Through the lack of polite niceties, Robert sat and grinned, apparently enjoying the game afoot.

  “We should apologize for our untimely arrival. While we appreciate your welcome, I would assume you will be returning to your confinement. You may rest in comfort knowing that I will personally see to managing the household on your behalf.” Jacqueline’s offer came with the underlying threat of a hostile takeover.