The Seer

by Hildie McQueen

  There were grumbles until the laird held up a hand. “A request for my daughter’s hand in marriage has been made by a man who has sworn his fealty to me.”

  The crowd looked to the guards, their gazes searching for answers as everyone began to speak at once.

  Alasdair looked to Dallis, whose attention was locked on her father. For a short moment, she looked to him before looking back to the laird. The laird’s wife however smiled as she studied her husband.

  Conversations quieted, everyone curious to hear what the laird would announce.

  “I made a decision based on what is best for our clan and not the desire of two individuals. It is my honor to lead ye all and do right by the people who depend on my leadership.”

  Alasdair’s stomach sank and he saw that Dallis’ gaze was now downcast. She too expected the worst.

  The laird continued, “We are all one and the same and I want ye, my people, to know that I do believe we are equals, no matter social standing. Therefore, after consideration of the marriage request, I have made a decision. Alasdair Creag stand and come forward.”

  Alasdair stood and although his knees were suddenly unsteady, he held his shoulders straight as he made his way to the high board. Everyone began talking at once, at each table people questioned each other. “Who is he?” or “I didn’t know they were courting” was repeated.

  When Alasdair neared, the laird looked to him. There wasn’t animosity, nor was there warmth in the man’s regard.

  “Alasdair Alexander Creag, I grant permission for ye and my daughter Dallis Eleanor Sinclair to marry.”

  Dallis jumped to her feet and rushed to her father and they embraced. Guiles grinned, his gaze filled with sincere warmth when meeting Alasdair’s.

  Alasdair was at a loss to what he should do. He’d never been in such a situation.

  When the laird rounded the table, Alasdair unsheathed his sword, held it up hilt first and kneeled. “I swear my fealty to ye Laird Sinclair and to the Robertson.”

  The laird took the sword with both hands holding it over his head. “I accept and grant ye a position as a member of the archer guard.”

  Alasdair bit his lip to keep from laughing. Although reasonably good with the bow and arrow, archery was not his strength. However, he wasn’t about to argue the point at this moment. No doubt the archers would not be keen on his leadership in any capacity.

  “Thank ye my laird.”

  “Rise.”

  The laird looked to the people in the room. “The marriage will take place in a fortnight. Ensure the news is spread.”

  They’d be married right after Guiles and Fiona, whose wedding was scheduled for seven days henceforth.

  Before he could get his bearings and turn around to face the room, Dallis grabbed his hands and pulled him across the room as people watched. They rounded a staircase and out a side door to the garden.

  “Are ye as overwhelmed as I?” Her gaze searched his face as she bit down on her bottom lip. “It’s so unexpected. Although I must admit, my father is a fair man and wants me to be happy above all.” She fiddled with his tunic front and dropped her gaze. “Say something.”

  With tender care, he cupped her face and lifted it. “I am more than pleased.” With that he covered her mouth with his. It was not the kiss he wanted to give, for in his mind, there was little to keep from taking his soon to be wife fully. However, no doubt the people inside the great room watched the door for their re-entrance.

  “Come, we should return inside,” he said.

  When her lips curved, his chest tightened. She was so very lovely and so very much more than he could have ever hoped for.

  There was much drinking and celebration at the announcement of the laird’s daughter marrying. So many great meals and cause for gatherings had everyone in good spirits.

  One man had nothing to celebrate was a guardsman who watched the festivities with distaste.

  It was always the entitled that got everything, which were gifted with more and more. Never men like him who worked hard every single day, just to get up and struggle through the next. Someone like he was never gifted with feasts or beautiful wives.

  The newcomer, Alasdair, was no one. And yet he’d been granted not only a position as head archer, but also the hand of the laird’s only daughter. How was this possible? What had that man done to deserve so much more than he?

  Now as he pondered what to do, his fingers drummed on the tabletop. “Fill my tankard.” He reached for a serving wench, who tried unsuccessfully to avoid his grasp. When he pulled her atop his leg, she elbowed him. “Let me go.”

  “Why?” He teased sliding his hand up her skirt.

  “Allow her up now.” Niven’s eyes narrowed. “This is not a tavern. Ye will respect her.”

  The maid jumped to her feet and hurried away without refilling his tankard. It didn’t matter. He needed a clear head to plan what to do next.

  “Is he to be head archer?” he asked with distaste. “What has that man done to be worthy of gaining a position some of us have waited years for?”

  Niven looked across the room to Alasdair. There were questions in his gaze too, but the man would never speak or go against their laird’s command. “It is not for us to question. Obviously he will be the laird’s son now. The laird did not say he was to lead the archers, but to be a member of the group.”

  He huffed and spit at the ground. “Entitled sons of...”

  Niven grabbed him by the tunic, pulling him up to his feet. “Leave. It’s best ye show yer ire elsewhere.”

  Of course. He had somewhere to go and with luck, the man he was to speak with would ruin things for the newcomer. His last plan, using the stupid Tavish brothers to inform the Macpherson had not worked to his benefit. It was best to do this himself, not depend on idiots.

  If he had his way, both weddings would not take place. The first would be ruined due to a “sudden” death of the groom, the second because someone would interject.

  With a wide grin, the guard hurried to the stables. In his mind, he should have been the head of the guard, the laird’s right hand and more worthy than the newcomer to be granted the laird’s daughter’s hand.

  However, there were ways to get revenge. The laird barely acknowledged him through all the years he’d been in service. He would never forgive the slight. His mother swore, he was the laird’s son. Neither the laird nor anyone else confirmed it. Instead, the laird had denied it over and over.

  Donall Muir, his mother’s name, not the laird’s, had remained there year after year, anger and resentment growing, festering until all he could think of was how to get what was owed to him. Position, marriage and wealth should be his.

  Chapter 11

  Dallis’ hand trembled as she knocked on Alasdair’s door that night. It was late. In her estimation the sun would rise in but two or three hours. The celebration had continued on and on, although she’d tried to move things along. Her parents were jubilant. Excited at the prospect of not only both of their children marrying, but also of the grandchildren soon to come.

  The clanswomen constantly surrounded her and Fiona and insisted they dance until collapsing from fatigue.

  Holding hands, they circled then released their clasp to turn while clapping. It was a time to be excited and happy, to celebrate the natural proceedings of life and this she understood. These women were whom she’d grown up with and by the wandering of their gazes across the room, they searched for someone to be theirs one day. She’d caught the gazes of guards and guests who pretended not to be searching, but yes, the men were affected as well.

  Finally, the guests had departed, some hurried out because they had far to travel, others slower, not ready to leave the feast. However, soon only the guardsmen and those staying the night remained.

  Her parents had gone to bed and Dallis waited until a maid came to help her prepare for bed. She’d washed herself from water poured, brushed out her hair and then dismissed the tired girl.

 
Once Dallis completed her nightly routine of washing away the grime of the day, she slipped from her room and hurried down the corridor.

  She rapped softly on the Alasdair’s door.

  When there was no answer, Dallis considered leaving. Perhaps Alasdair slept and did not hear her.

  Just as she pushed the door open, someone pressed against her back, his mouth on her neck. “I was hoping ye’d come.”

  A thrill traveled down her spine and her breath caught.

  They moved into the dark room barely inside the door before he began tearing his clothes off. “I want to see ye. All of ye.”

  He stood nude in the moonlight and she could not keep from allowing her gaze to soak in every part of his body. He was magnificent.

  Despite the warmth from the fireplace, when Alasdair’s gaze met hers, Dallis shivered. Not from cold, but anticipation of his touch.

  She stood so still, like a stone carving without any ability to move. Her blood coursed and her heart beat steadily, but Dallis remained where she was. It would be him who’d come to her. Alasdair who touched first, who’d make contact.

  Not sure why, but instinct told her to allow it. That it was Alasdair who should take lead through everything tonight. Somehow she sensed that between them, from that day forward, he would be fully exposed and would expect the same in return.

  Not that she didn’t wish it, but how could someone allow another into every thought and dream? Was this something normal between husband and wife?

  For a moment Dallis thought he’d not move. It was a sort of standoff, not uncomfortable, but almost as if he wasn’t sure what she wanted from him.

  “Ye will be my wife,” he stated and since it wasn’t a question, Dallis didn’t speak.

  Alasdair looked from her to the bed. “I am not sure how I came to deserve such a gift. Ye deserve...”

  “Please don’t say a man of higher station, because if ye believe Cuthbert to be more deserving than ye, I will turn away and walk out the door.”

  The corners of his lips twitched. “Ye are a smart lass. No, I do not believe Cuthbert Robertson to be more deserving. Nor did I wish for his name to be spoken right now. What I wish is that ye …,” Alasdair hesitated searching for the next word.

  Dallis yearned to be touched, to fall into his bed. However, this night, whatever was said needed to be spoken. Their thoughts and sentiments expressed.

  Dallis met his gaze, loving how they’d darkened, the golden flecks almost disappeared. “I dreamed of marrying someone who’d win my heart. Every time the subject of marriage came up, or I attended a wedding, the same thought occurred to me. That I wished to marry a man of my choosing.” She let out a breath. “Never did I think it would happen, that my dream would come true.”

  “Would ye have chosen me?”

  “Yes, without hesitation.”

  Alasdair’s eyes remained on hers, his chest rising and lowering as he listened. His lips parted, but he waited to see what she’d say next.

  “Ye are the man I have chosen, and I am the lucky one. Much more than ye know. For my prospects were quite limited, and I expected to marry either the son of the Macpherson, who is as perverse as his father or Cuthbert. That I will marry ye fills me with so much joy.”

  At seeing a single tear streak down her cheek, Alasdair rushed to her. “Don’t cry. I didn’t wish to cause ye sadness. Not tonight.”

  “I am not sad,” Dallis said with a loud sniff. “I’m happy.”

  Relief poured, overtaking her when at last he brought her close, holding her against his body. Every inch of his muscular physique that touched hers taut, hard, and perfect.

  Once again Dallis fought against pulling him to the bed. The sun would rise soon and although desire was strong, she wished to know what he thought and wished to say. That they had time and opportunity to spend time alone was in itself a gift.

  “Come with me,” Alasdair said taking her hand and drawing her to one of the tall windows. “Look outside to the starry night sky. That is what I see most nights as I fall asleep. The only constant in my life has been the night sky. Alone with only my thoughts, I never dared to dream for more. I vow on my life.” He lifted her face with his right hand, while wrapping his left arm around her waist and pulling her close. “I vow to always remain in debt to yer father for giving ye to me as my wife and partner. And like those stars up so high, to be the constant in yer life as long as I live.”

  This time when their lips met, the kiss was passionate, a clash of desire and want as they made it into the bed.

  Lifting her, Alasdair carried her to the bed and lay next to her.

  They explored, kissed and caressed each other. The passion was palatable, every inch of her body on fire.

  Their lovemaking was hard, fast and urgent. Alasdair did not hold back, his muscular body rhythmic in its movements, driving and pulling back, pushing her to limits Dallis didn’t know existed.

  Thrust after thrust, their bodies moving in unison, Alasdair continued until he gleamed with perspiration and Dallis could barely remain coherent.

  Alternating between wanting more and asking him to hold back, she ended up mewling while digging her fingernails into his flesh as time after time, she feared losing consciousness.

  Suddenly, her entire being exploding into tiny bits. Dallis cried out unable to gain purchase, floating in a realm much like the sky Alasdair had shown her.

  Darkness and flashes of light.

  Through the dullness of her senses, a hoarse cry penetrated through, and Alasdair fell over her, spent and shuddering.

  “We should speak,” Dallis said while she dressed. “Although I feel very strongly, I barely know ye.”

  In truth, he would have preferred to remain in bed with the minx and make love again before morning. However, after only a few moments laying on his chest, she suddenly slid from the bed.

  “Why are ye getting dressed?”

  Dallis gave him a pointed look. “Because ye and I are not married as yet. My mother would not approve of this.” She motioned between them.

  She sat down on the bed and met his gaze for a long moment. “Are ye going to be able to settle? To remain here?”

  In his mind, he would withstand being locked in a box for hours as long as he could see Dallis every day. Instead of answering quickly, he considered it.

  “I do not know what it is like to remain in one place for long. Since very young, I have never settled. My mother and I would move to different villages to live with relatives for temporary spurts. She feared I’d be killed because of my gift.”

  Dallis reached forward and took his hand. “I cannot imagine. At the same time, ye have seen more of this country that I could ever hope to.”

  “Perhaps when I become restless, we can do it. Travel together. Short trips, of course.”

  Her eyes lit up. “That would be exciting. It could work.”

  Alasdair considered that it would mean traveling with guards and in the comfort of a carriage perhaps. Yet the idea of Dallis experiencing new places made him happy.

  “Dallis do not worry. I will remain here with ye. Although I had never expected to marry and settle, I know that I can do it and not regret it.”

  Lips curving, her gaze traveled from his eyes, to his lips and then to his chest. “I did not expect to marry someone I find so very lovely.”

  “Lovely? I am scarred and not what most could ever consider attractive.”

  Her soft chuckle made his heart expand. “Then ye must have been around blind women. Most here find ye quite handsome.”

  Before he could react, she came to be over him. “I find ye irresistible.”

  Her lips pressed against the top of his scar and then Dallis trailed kissed down the rugged skin to the bottom. Alasdair closed his eyes as his breathing hitched.

  He pulled the beautiful woman into an embrace. “I do not deserve ye.”

  At first she squirmed attempting to move away, but she gave up and relaxed when he kissed her.
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  “Is there something else ye wish to discuss?” Alasdair said after breaking the kiss.

  After a long sigh, Dallis shook her head. “I needed to know if ye would be able to remain here with me. I feel assured.”

  “What about ye? Were ye hoping to move away to a home of yer own?”

  When she pushed away, this time he allowed it. Dallis sat crossed legged on the bed. “Goodness no. I would have ended up at some keep where my husband’s mother would ensure I was aware I did not have any say in the running of the household.”

  “Does not yer mother do that here?”

  Dallis considered it for a moment. “Mother and I have always shared duties. Now, however, I suppose Fiona will be who will work with mother. I will be relegated to plucking strings from an embroidery cloth.”

  “Sounds dreary.”

  “It does.” A deep frown creased her forehead. “I must speak to them first thing and ensure we divide our tasks. I will not be left out.”

  “Take off yer clothes and stay,” Alasdair lifted the bedding inviting her.

  “I cannot,” Dallis stubbornly replied. “I should go.”

  He lowered the bedding to his hips. “Are ye sure?”

  When her gaze traveled slowly down his body, it was as if she touched his skin.

  “Oh, very well. Ye do not play fair. Promise to wake me at first light.”

  Chapter 12

  Although Guiles felt that things were not quite right, he preferred to be wrong than for one of his hunting dogs to be in harm’s way. He guided his horse alongside the forest edge and whistled for his dog.

  A guard had insisted the hound had hobbled into the woods holding one of its legs up. It didn’t seem right. His overly indulged dogs would never run away but to him when hurt.

  Once again he whistled and heard no reply, no whine or scrambling...nothing. Annoyed because there was much to do and if this were some sort of jest, he’d personally whip the idiot who thought it a good time for a prank.