A Flawed Scotsman

by McQueen, Hildie

  Outside in the corridor, there was the murmur of low voices. Whoever it was seemed to be discussing something rather ardently. Then the door opened slowly.

  Someone was coming into her room and it wasn’t her father or the healer. Why would someone enter so late in the night?

  Slow footfalls sounded and Esme tried to see who it was, but the room was much too dark.

  Just then, her mother woke and let out a scream. Whoever it was that had entered ran out and, within moments, several guards rushed in with torches in hand.

  Her father hurried into the room, his eyes moving between Esme and her mother. “Are ye hurt? Why did ye scream, Meredith?”

  “I thought someone was in here. Did ye see him, Esme?” She looked to her daughter and Esme nodded.

  “Aye, I saw someone enter. Whoever it was, was slight of build. It could have been a woman.”

  “Ye may have startled a maid who came to check on Esme,” her father said rather crossly. “Meredith, ye should be in our chamber, not here.”

  “I will not leave Esme alone,” her mother insisted, arms crossed. “Whoever it was could have meant our daughter harm.”

  Swallowing past her parched throat, Esme reached for a glass of water. “I heard voices just before whoever it was entered. It was an argument. I swear it.”

  “Very well. A guard will be posted outside yer door until this is figured out.” Her father gave her mother one last look and walked out.

  “One of ye remain here and another at the end of the corridor. Ensure someone takes yer place in the morning.” Her father gave instructions and lingered in the doorway. There was a pensive expression about him, as if realizing something. Then when he saw she was watching him, he turned away and left.

  “Mother?” Esme said to her mother who’d settled once again back in the chair. “Do ye think perhaps someone in our clan wishes us harm?”

  Her mother didn’t look astonished, instead more pensive. “I would certainly hope not. Whoever came in earlier was not a servant. Otherwise, they’d have been carrying a lantern or such. Something is not right. I must speak to yer father directly in the morning.”

  “Ye should speak to him now.”

  As if realizing something, her mother let out a sigh, a faraway expression on her face. “I trust that he will take care of things. There is no need to worry overly.”

  The next day went by swiftly. Esme felt better, not well enough that it wasn’t excruciating to move, but at least her fever seemed to have abated. When her father and brother entered her chamber, she instinctively knew they were there to ask questions again.

  Her father gave her a patient look. “I spoke to the two young men who I allowed to hunt. Both admit to seeing ye, but swear ye left them unharmed.”

  “Is it true?” her brother asked.

  She nodded. “I remember speaking to them and then heading back toward here. I realized I’d gone far and was frustrated at myself for it.”

  It was obvious they restrained from admonishing her by the tightness in their faces.

  “What do ye remember next?” her father prompted.

  “Trying to find Dot. Just after I found her, she heard men’s voices and dashed away. The men Dot heard then came from behind trees and shot me. I tried to return home but, before long, I found it impossible. I hid then.” Once again, a picture of foliage moving, of the arrows impaled in her body formed and she winced.

  “Did ye see them?” her brother asked. “Esme, ye must have seen something.”

  She nodded. “Aye, I believe I did. But I do not recall their faces. Perhaps I didn’t see them clearly. By the time they emerged from the thicket, they’d already shot the arrows.”

  “Were they shocked, surprised?” Her father moved closer leaning over her.

  The men had spoken in hushed tones. “Aye, they were. I believe one wished to see about me, but the other talked him out of it. I was looking down at my body and not at them. I only saw their boots. When I looked up, they were running away.”

  “Esme…” her brother began, and she held a hand out to stop him.

  “One had wavy hair, very light, almost blond. The other short cropped dark hair. Neither was particularly large, both slender.”

  “And so, it wasn’t the ones I allowed to hunt?” Her father sounded relieved that he’d not made a decision that had almost cost her life.

  “Nay and I did not recognize either man’s voice. I am not familiar with most of the guards or village men well enough to remember voices. But I do recall neither of them sounded like someone I’ve spoken to before.”

  Keithen neared the bed and studied her face. “Ye will recover fully, I demand it.”

  “I shall do my best, if only to annoy ye for years to come.”

  “That is the spirit,” her brother replied with a soft smile. From the fact neither her brother nor father relaxed fully, the healer had not pronounced that she’d recover fully. Esme shifted her legs, hips and wiggled her toes. Once she was assured all worked well, she moved her shoulders and lifted both arms slowly.

  “What are ye doing?” Keithen asked with a scowl. “Ye will hurt yerself if ye keep moving about like that.”

  “Making sure all of my limbs work properly. Ye act as if I remain on death’s door.”

  When Keithen and her father exchanged a strange look, Esme’s injured stomach tightened. Something was wrong.

  “What is it?”

  Her father waved a hand dismissively. “The healer remains cautious as it is hard to tell what injury ye sustained that cannot be treated with herbs and such.”

  Just then, a servant entered with a tray. The girl stopped and stared at her brother and Esme bit her bottom lip to keep from giggling. Many a servant girl was enamored with her ruggedly handsome brother, who was as oblivious as a newborn.

  “Did Ruari Ross leave?” Esme asked. “Did he bring good news for our clan?”

  Her father’s shoulders fell. “Clan Ross is supportive. I am not sure of how strong of an alliance they offer. He remains for now. He sent a message back to Laird Ross. Once a reply returns, then Ruari will inform me what Laird Ross wishes to do.”

  A trickle of apprehension filled her. Since she’d not seen the man since he’d come into her room, Esme expected he’d returned home. There were several reasons for him to return, but none was clearer than the fact that he was there as a token from Clan Ross. Was he to announce they’d take over her clan?

  “In the end, if they become our overseers, is that not the same as being under the Mackenzie? Will we lose our freedom?” Esme grumbled.

  “Tis not something for ye to worry about,” her father said, with a pointed look. “What ye need to do is rest.”

  “What did ye propose, Father?” Esme demanded. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. It was clear that her clan was not strong enough to ever stand against someone as powerful as Clan Mackenzie. No matter how often it was whispered about, the clear and present threat never changed the fact that the possibility of becoming part of the cruel man’s clan was inevitable.

  “I have proposed marriage between ye and Ruari Ross.”

  Chapter Five

  Ruari sat in the chamber that had been appointed to him by Lady Fraser, mentally going over ideas on how to foster a deal for several horses. What Malcolm had said was true. Laird Fraser’s brother was a master breeder. The horses in the corrals were beautiful, strong beasts. Even the devil of a horse he rode wasn’t as well bred. Of course, his steed was wild until captured and, therefore, his pedigree was questionable.

  However, the more time he spent with the unruly animal, the better they’d understood each other. His mount would make a good warhorse. Unfortunately, only if it was him that rode the beast into battle, which he hoped would not come to be.

  Any day now, the messenger would return, and he pondered what Malcolm would suggest he do next. He felt for the people at Fraser Keep who’d come into the Mackenzie’s focus.

  Although the Fraser Clan
was small, the people respected their laird. Laird Fraser was attentive to the needs of those under his care.

  Since the guards had been admonished, the change was remarkable. When the guards were not on duty, there was sword practice and regular patrols around the perimeter of the land. Several times, Ruari rode out with them to exercise his horse and get a feel for how the threat had affected the local people.

  Most seemed fearful, but resilient. Several farmers had spoken up, asking the guards to take back messages of hope of remaining independent.

  People deserved to belong to the clan they were born into in Ruari’s opinion. A sense of responsibility made Ruari wonder how far he’d go to help them.

  If Malcolm insisted that he marry, he would, of course, obey. However, he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. On one hand, it would be a duty to his clan and for Clan Fraser, it meant a strong alliance that would, hopefully, keep the Mackenzie at bay.

  There was, of course, the problem of what had happened with Esme. If her attackers were, in fact, Mackenzies, then Laird Fraser would be in his rights to demand reparations and that the men be turned over to him for punishment.

  And knowing the Mackenzie, he would refuse. Any trouble between the clans would then, by default, drag his own into it.

  The bangs at the door got his attention and he called out for whoever it was to enter. A slender man walked in. “My laird wishes to see ye. Also, this missive came for ye.”

  Ruari took the parchment. “I will be there in a moment.”

  Once the man left, he unrolled the parchment.

  Just moments later, Ruari entered Laird Fraser’s study. The room was reminiscent of Malcolm’s with a large table, several chairs and a decanter of whisky on the side table. The laird gestured to the whisky and Ruari shook his head. “I have not eaten yet today.”

  “Were ye not offered to break yer fast?”

  “I was out riding early this morning and it was done by the time I returned. I will seek something to eat…”

  The laird stood and went to the doorway. He motioned a passing servant over. “Bring our guest meat, cheese and some bread.” As the servant girl scurried away, he turned back to Ruari. “I hear ye received a missive back from Laird Ross.”

  Direct and to the subject at hand. Ruari preferred directness when dealing with people. He nodded. “Aye. He allows me to decide whether to accept yer offer or not. Also, he wishes to inform ye that we support ye and will ensure the Mackenzie is aware of our alliance. However, once again, he reminds ye that we will not go to battle with ye.”

  “An alliance by marriage is not truly one when one clan is not willing to fight alongside another.” The laird went to the side table and poured himself a glass of amber liquid. “I understand that knowledge of our alliance would be a deterrent to future problems with Laird Mackenzie. However…” the man took a long swallow and then his gaze met Ruari’s. “What if I discover his men tried to kill my Esme?”

  “That is yer decision alone, Laird,” Ruari replied. “I understand that there should be a price to pay.”

  Seeming tired, the laird sat and blew out a breath. “There will be a price to pay. If ye marry my daughter, it will then be yer responsibility as well.”

  He knew those words would be spoken and Ruari had considered how to reply. “Whoever shot Esme probably mistook her for wildlife. She herself said they were hidden at first. Once they saw what had happened, they fled. If they are guilty of anything, it is cowardice, not an attempt on her life.”

  The laird’s face tightened, a muscle flexing on his jaw. “Then it is for two reasons that they should be punished.”

  The maid returned with a plate of cheese and warm bread. Not wishing to be rude, he tore a piece of the bread and chewed on it.

  He understood the man’s anger toward the men who had injured his daughter. The men could have owned up and brought her to seek help. If they’d mistaken her for dead, perhaps they’d been fearful of the laird’s reactions. While considering his duty to his new bride, he ate a piece of cheese.

  “I will stand by ye whatever ye decide. I myself will fight with ye, but I cannot bring forth my clan.”

  The words seemed to mollify the laird because he finally nodded. “Will ye then accept to marry Esme?”

  His stomach lurched, the food instantly becoming unappetizing. He’d hoped Malcolm would have made the decision for him but, instead, his cousin had been diplomatic and left it up to him to decide. He took a breath. “Aye, I will.”

  The laird studied him for a moment, seeming to discern the confusion and reluctance he felt. “Yer betrothal will be announced at last meal so that news travels to the Mackenzie.”

  “Do ye think perhaps it would be wiser to announce it after the marriage has taken place? That way he will not try to do something to impede it?” Ruari asked him.

  “I will consider it.”

  When Ruari reached the door, he turned to the man who held his head in both hands while looking down at the tabletop. He didn’t envy him or Malcolm. The yoke of lairdship was a heavy one.

  Needing better sustenance, Ruari went to the kitchen and was served once again. This time, he ate his fill.

  Ruari walked up the stairs to his chamber. Upon reaching the second level, he considered whether he should speak to Esme about the possibility of them marrying. The lass would no doubt be aware, but he wished to know her thoughts on the matter.

  Usually, a woman was not part of the decision. Although he considered it unfair, it was the way of the times. Personally, he hoped she was in agreement.

  The guard at her door gave him a once over. “I will ensure they wish to see ye.”

  The guard rapped on the door and a servant opened it. Her eyes widened at seeing him. “Mistress Esme, tis the Ross visitor.”

  “Come in, please.” She sounded better, her voice still soft, but without the hoarseness or breathlessness of being in pain.

  Esme was sitting in her bed, her dark hair pulled back into a braid that had been swept forward over her left shoulder. She wore a shawl across her shoulders and was covered from the waist down with the bedding.

  “I would have never imagined receiving visitors in my bedchamber while not fully dressed.” She motioned to a chair. “Please, sit. I am glad ye came, I wish to speak to ye.”

  That it was the woman who’d initiate the conversation was interesting. Ruari found it refreshing that she, like her father, was direct.

  “Ye look well.”

  “Thank ye.” Her cheeks flushed just a bit. “I am still in pain but refuse to wallow in it. I am sure it will eventually go away.”

  He studied her face. Without the smudges of blood and dirt, her skin was bright and rosy. Once again, he noted the sprinkling of freckles that made her look young and alluring.

  Her gaze met his and she scowled.

  “Is something wrong with my face?”

  Caught staring, he struggled for what to say. “Nay. It is just that I have not seen ye clearly before. When I found ye, yer face was dirty and the last time I was here, ye were feverish.”

  Esme let out a sigh. “Not the most appealing look for a woman.” Her lips curved. “I wish to thank ye for saving my life. I know that my parents have both spoken to ye. In truth, I had given up hope when ye found me. Truly, it was fate that ye saw where I was hidden.”

  He was taken aback when her shiny eyes looked to him. “I thought for certain I’d die there, hidden by the rock. I hadn’t the energy to move, much less travel any further. Thank ye, Ruari Ross.”

  Pride at his actions made Ruari’s chest expand. “I am glad that I did see ye. Once I got ye here, it was the healer who saved ye.”

  “He tells me ye cleaned one wound out and tended to both.”

  “I have worked with horses all my life and have taken care of their wounds, especially after a long time of battles that my clan has recently emerged from.”

  She thought for a moment, her eyes downcast. “Did many die?”

&n
bsp; “Aye, on both sides. Not just warriors, but innocents who lost their lives and homes to fires set by the warring clans. Battles are never fair. That so many pay with their lives over land and power is part of it.”

  “My father informed me of his offer. Is yer laird willing to help us?”

  Ruari waited, unsure if she meant their marriage or not. Lady Fraser entered the room and looked to her daughter. “Esme, it is not right for ye to discuss such matters that have yet to be resolved between Mister Ross and yer father.”

  “I have a right to know. This is my life that is affected.”

  “I do not mind telling her,” Ruari interrupted. He looked to Esme. “I have agreed to marriage, however, my clan will not go to war against the Mackenzie.”

  For a moment, Esme looked taken aback. Her eyes widened as they moved from him to her mother.

  “I see.” Esme looked to her mother and then back to him again. “Ye do not have to do this. No one should marry out of duty or by force.”

  Ruari felt a kinship with her in that moment. Although without any real say in the matter, she was trying to help him.

  “I agreed to it. Now, I await yer father’s decision on other matters.” He knew it was not customary to involve a woman in the matters regarding talks of clan alliances and such. But in Ruari’s opinion, if Esme was to be his wife, he wished her to be informed.

  For a long moment, she studied his face. Something about the open curiosity was charming. When her gaze moved down his body, something new stirred within. He was attracted to the lass and, although not knowing her well, something told him they would be a good match.

  Esme dragged her gaze away from him to her mother. “I do not wish for father to take our clan to war because of what happened to me. I do believe it was not intentional.”

  Lady Fraser’s eyebrows lowered. “Must I repeat? It is not our place to decide or speak on these matters.” She looked to Ruari. “Would ye please allow me to speak to my daughter in private?”

  Ruari stood, feeling Esme’s gaze upon him. He nodded first to Lady Fraser and then looked to Esme. “Be with care.”