by Annis, Dawn
“Sleep well. I will be here in the morn.” The same promise he had given Lettie. Sitting on the side of the bed, holding his father’s hand, Callum bowed his head until his father slept once more. He rose, stepped out of the room, and closed the door behind him. His mother waited, her handkerchief balled in her hand.
“How long has his breath rattled?” he asked, concerned.
She inhaled deeply, her face lined. “It has been two days since his chest sounded every time he takes a breath. I have been dosin’ him with lungwort to allow him to breathe easier, though it dinna do much good.”
His chest constricted with the pain he saw in her eyes as she wrestled with the truth. Her husband was dying.
“I am glad ye are here to see him. He is proud o’ ye. Yer his son. ’Tis important ye ken.”
Proud of a man who gambled for a living? One who shared a bed with a woman for the sheer sport of it? A man who debated whether he would come home to his family in a time of crisis?
But he had come home.
“I thank ye, Maw. Come, let us retire. There is nothin’ more to be done tonight.” His voice caught.
Slipping her arm in his, she led the way to his old bedchambers.
“I kept yer things as ye left them,” she said, stroking his cheek. “Goodnight, lad.”
Callum opened his door and stepped into the past.
He faltered, lingering over a particular item or the one behind it. Fingering the bits and pieces of his childhood, he thought of what the future would hold for him. Surprised by his mother’s words, he realized his father’s health would not allow him the luxury of his immediate dismissal of the life his parents wanted so badly for him.
In the past, while his father had insisted it was his duty, he’d pointed out all the ways Callum wasn’t fit for the job. Not intelligent enough, not stalwart enough, not good enough. He’d heard every word his father had said to him, even some his father hadn’t. He’d soon hated the very stones he now stood upon. Proud of him? He was never anything but a disappointment.
His father lay dying, his mother sad and resigned to his father’s eventual death, and his younger sister confused and heartbroken. He would have to take on the responsibilities he so carefully avoided. Yet, how could he? He would disappoint his mother and the clan. He would not take on the challenge his father had set before him so long ago. He would stay only long enough to give stability to the clan after his father’s death.
Callum stretched his aching muscles and yawned. Too tired from travel and the emotional homecoming with his family to contemplate it further, he undressed and slid beneath the clean blankets.
He walked along the top of the Faerie Tower above the castle Dunvegan. The air, fresh and clean. A slight breeze lifted the hair from his face.
Full of pinks and oranges, the sky produced a rare clear sunrise, the mists falling away in the wake of its heat. As he stood along the parapet, his father joined him, large and hale, full of energy and health. His father smiled and put his arm around him. Callum could feel the weight of his father’s embrace. They stopped, and his father turned to him. Smiling, he stroked Callum’s face, then disappeared.
Callum awoke with a start.
His father had forgiven him. His father was dead.
Chapter 2
Thea woke early, stretched and, with a yawn, settled back into her soft, warm bed. She snoozed, cozy and content.
Shite. Opening her eyes with a start, she threw back the quilts and scrambled out of bed. Knowing her brothers, she had only minutes.
Thea poured icy water from the pitcher into the washbasin, lathered her hands and face. She rinsed, washing the sleep from her eyes. She shivered as she tugged the brush through her long mass of curls. Tying her hair into a simple knot atop her head, she attempted to fastened it with hairpins, dropping them in her haste.
‘Early’ was not her favorite time of the day. Given a choice, she would sleep away the morning, but the MacNichol clan started their day with the sunrise. Her brothers would soon be at the door, scolding or teasing. Thea was surprised she hadn’t heard a ‘cracking o’ wood’ knock that frequently accompanied their attempts to spoil her morning. Sleep and peace were not an option when one had five brothers. She glanced toward the window for a quick check of the weather. A cloudy sky replaced the rain lulling her to sleep the night before. The sun strained to make an appearance but would soon be defeated.
She slipped into her cotton shift and blue woolen gown. In her rush, she struggled to pleat her arisaid. Finally, able to wrap the material around herself, she belted the whole garment together. Throwing the remaining fabric around her shoulders, she pinned it with a broach depicting her family crest, poking herself in the process.
Damn!
She did a hurried inventory of her dress, checked her shoes, and yanked the door open. There stood two brothers, Simon with a scowl on his face, and Timothy with a grin.
“’Tis about time for ye to rise. Ye are a layabout.”
Thea ignored Simon.
Timothy leaned down conspiratorially. “When ye have supped, I have to speak with ye.”
Thea bowed her head slightly before descending the corridor steps to the busy great hall.
Timothy and Thea often had their heads together, planning the next prank or joke on any member of the clan. No one was immune to their cleverly devised schemes. No doubt he had another elaborate ruse in mind.
Scorrybreac, the manor house in which the MacNichol chief and his family resided, was large and spacious. A tall, rectangular stone structure bisected by the great hall formed two large earthen squares on either side. To the right consisted of kitchen gardens providing vegetables and herbs for the clan’s use. The other side was reserved for livestock and fowl, and space for the necessities of daily life. The family and servant quarters were in the floors above, surrounding the two center courtyards. A perfect structure for defense, protecting the family and clan within its thick outer walls.
“Good morn, my lassie,” Mary, one of the clanswomen serving the morning meal, greeted Thea.
“A cheery good morn to ye. Did ye sleep well?”
“Aye, the sound o’ the rain guides me to my dreams though I wish the sun would shine this day.”
“I long for the sun on my face. We havena seen it for some time. But I intend to ride regardless o’ the weather.”
Mary patted Thea on the back. “I ken it. Enjoy breakin’ yer fast, and if I dinna see ye, enjoy yer ride.” Mary hurried off to finish serving the meal to the other clansmen.
Frederick, one of the many men gathered for the morning meal, gave her a wave from across the hall. She enjoyed his easy manner and wry sense of humor. His short chubby body and round, sweet face with its reddish beard gave him the appearance of a cuddly bear. Frederick had a welcoming disposition and always had a friendly word for everyone around him. He worked in the stables, so Thea saw him often.
Thea and her brother Timothy enjoyed playing their pranks on him. Frederick had been known to conjure a few retaliatory capers of his own much to their delight.
Mary set a bowl of oat porridge and a warm bun in front of her. Mary winked. Partial to Cook’s fruit buns, Thea took a bite of the apple pastry, savoring the sweet, tart filling.
Her father strode up behind her, his familiar heels clicking on the stone floor. He placed his hands on her shoulders. She turned in her chair and smiled at his touch.
“Good morn, lass.”
As chief of Clan MacNichol and sept to the Laird of the Clan MacLeod, his somber tone didn’t surprise Thea, but this morning he seemed serious and stern.
Thea swallowed and returned her father’s greeting. “Good morn. Is somethin’ amiss?”
“When ye are finished eatin’ yer meal, I should like to see ye in my study.” He proceeded out of th
e hall without another word.
Thea frowned and popped her last bite of bun into her mouth. Chewing her food quickly, she found the fruit had lost its taste. Her mind raced through the series of her recent infractions. From the joke she and Timothy had pulled on their brother Simon to her repeated forgetfulness regarding her chores, none of which would warrant his grave demeanor. Curious, Thea abandoned her meal and stood. She dusted off her lap and straightened the pleating of her arisaid. Her skirts swished as she left the table. Ignoring Frederick’s wave, she set off to meet her father.
Anxiety crept down her spine. She stepped down the hall, her fingers tapping on her thighs. She knocked on his study door quietly. Perhaps if he didn’t hear, she could claim she hadn’t wanted to disturb him. She could make her escape.
“Come in,” her father replied.
Misgivings flooded Thea. Damn. She’d almost avoided the set down she dreaded she was about to receive.
Her father watched her make her way across the room.
“Sit down. I have a serious matter to discuss with ye.”
Certain her day could only turn for the worse, she tried to preempt her father’s words. “What is it, Da? If yer scoldin’ has anythin’ to do with . . .”
Warring emotions briefly crossed his face as he settled himself in his chair. “Nay, it has nothin’ to do with yer latest antics with yer brother,” he interrupted, smiling briefly. He paused.
“’Tis time ye marry.” He cleared his throat. “’Tis past time ye do so.”
Thea swallowed hard and opened her mouth.
He held up his hand to forestall her protest.
“Now, I ken I agreed to let ye find yer own way, but it has gone on long enough. If ye dinna choose a man soon, I shall be forced to make the choice for ye.” Anthol leaned his elbows on his desk and placed his hands flat on its surface. He studied her for a moment. “I love ye, lass, but I have indulged ye too long. I want see ye happy.”
Thea sucked in a breath. What brought on the discussion of marriage? Her father had promised she would have a choice, and she depended on it.
The fruit bun she enjoyed earlier churned in her stomach. “Da, ye dinna have to worry over me.”
Something had happened to change his mind. What? Thea knew of his concern regarding her being raised without the loving hand of her mother. Eleanor had died giving life to her only daughter. The loss of his wife was still written on his face. Thea had gazed into the mirror more than once, trying to see a woman she never knew in her own reflection. Thea often asked her for advice, though silence was all she ever received. The lack of an answer didn’t stop her from seeking it.
“I love my life. I love livin’ with my family around me. How could I ask for more?”
“’Tis no enough, lass,” he said, his gruff tone surprising her.
Her father hadn’t meant to be unkind. She couldn’t blame him for his concern. Thea’s chin trembled. Lowering her head, she tried to calm the rapid beat of her heart. She admitted she felt hurt and even a bit of fear. What if she didn’t care for the man her father chose?
“I love my daughter verra much and want to see ye happily married with wee ones o’ yer own.”
“My brothers have a tendency to intimidate any man who shows more than a passin’ interest in me. I love each one, but they can be a pain in the arse.”
“Aye, they can be.” Her father chuckled.
Thea sighed. “So ye will no be callin’ them off?”
“Nay, my lads ken what they are about. Ye will do well to heed them.”
Thea stopped short of rolling her eyes. She thought of each of her brothers in turn and what they had said to her about marriage.
Family was important to Hadrian, her eldest brother. His younger sister more than most. When the subject came up between them about her marrying, he always replied he wished marriage for her so he could quit worrying over her.
Simon was the second born. he would risk anything for her safety and well-being. He wasn’t shy about telling Thea it was her duty to marry.
Geoffrey was next in line. For him, it was logical that she be married.
Timothy, the jokester of the family, had a huge heart and a joy in life he shared with everyone around him. He saw the humor of any situation that presented itself. He told her she should marry for the happiness it would bring.
Michael, the quiet one, was the brother closest to Thea. Two years older than she, they had played and grown up together. When Michael spoke, his words made sense, and it was always in her best interest to listen. He saw no reason for her to marry, but as with all else, he kept his opinion to himself, and none of his older brothers thought to ask him what his views were on the matter. Michael didn’t pressure her and made it clear he wished for her to find love. Love bound two people together in troublesome times. If she ever found someone to love, that would be the only reason to marry.
Each brother so different from the other yet so alike in their care and love for Thea. They protected her without question.
“Da, I have found an interest in John Fendrel.” John would not have been her first choice, but he was her only choice at the present.
Her father clasped his hands. “I ken ye have, lass.” He considered a spot behind her.
“We enjoy our time together and ride often. His words are sweet.”
“I ken ye like yer horses, and I havena doubt his words are sweet enough.”
“We enjoy each other’s company verra much.”
Anthol regarded her. “The problem with John is his aversion to work. He isna lazy. A lazy man wouldna put so much energy into avoidin’ a job. He is committed to no workin’. He is quite clever at extractin’ himself from a situation requirin’ him to accomplish somethin’ with his day.” Thea’s father studied his hands on the desk and shook his head. “John enjoys the finer things o’ life, and work is no what he considers one o’ the finer things.”
“I ken o’ his shortcomin’s, but I dinna have a great deal o’ choices. I have resigned m’self to his flaws.”
“Yer brothers are no so forgivin’. Each one, at one time or another has caught the dashin’ John Fendrel in lies he has told to get himself out o’ a job or two. They find him wantin’ and have made sure I ken their thoughts on the subject. They dinna view his flaws with any understandin’ and havena desire for ye to have anythin’ to do with such a wastrel.”
Indeed, they had made it clear to John as well that his attentions to her were not welcome, and he would be more forcibly rebuffed if he continued his suit. Angry at the rebuke, John had told Thea he was determined to win them over. Thea would not go so far as to defy her brothers, but she knew her own mind.
Thea once asked Hadrian why he and his younger siblings felt the need to rid her of any potential suitors if they wanted her to wed so badly. He replied with a grin, “Because no one is good enough for our wee sister.”
Well, all fine and good. As a result, ‘no one’ would have her. At a ripe old age of one and twenty, if she was going to find a man, he would have to be able to withstand her brothers. Thea couldn’t deny the love they had for her. She had no objection to a husband, certainly at times she longed for one, but she needed to respect the man she loved. Truth be told, she didn’t want any man who cowered to her brothers.
She would give John a chance. What choice did she have?
Embarrassed and not a little angry, she waited through the remainder of her father’s speech. She would listen no further. She glanced around the room that served as her father’s study and the family library. Books rested on shelves as high as the ceiling allowed. The smell of books and beeswax tickled her nose. She loved this room. She’d spent many evenings exploring the world reading these tomes.
When he was finished, she stood, her cheeks hot. She did not contradict her fa
ther. She wouldn’t ask what had occurred to change his mind. It was not her place to question her father’s decisions though her curiosity itched in her mind.
“Da, I ken ye only want my happiness. I love ye.”
Having no more to say, she padded around his desk and embraced him.
“Now lass, heed my words. I will no give ye to the first man that comes along, but I will be keepin’ my eyes about for someone I think will suit ye, and I am sure John Fendrel is no the man. Yer mother would have wanted ye to be happy. Her sweet soul come to me last night in a dream. She asked how ye were, and I could no give her a right good answer.”
Ah, there it was. Her father had worried over her and was trying to do what he thought her mother would want for her. She understood, but the knowledge made his edict no easier to swallow. Thea gave her father one last rueful wave and left his study.
Deciding to go for a ride, she grabbed her tonnag and walked out to the stable, her anger fading. Thea gave the stable hand a weak smile as she hurried toward her horse’s stall. A long ride would clear her head and allow her to study the problem more closely. Well, not study the problem. After all what did anyone expect her to do? Thea wasn’t able to produce the perfect man with the snap of her fingers.
“There is my bonnie lass.” John had sneaked up behind her. “Are ye ready for our ride?”
Thea jumped. “John, ye startled me.”
John bowed. “Och, my apologies.” He took her hand.
Thea touched her throat and with a soft voice said, “I wish to ride alone this morn. I hope ye dinna mind. I have much to think about.”
“Is this true? What could possibly be on my love’s mind that would have ye troubled?”