by Wine, Mary
And Noreen?
Well, Malcolm didn’t spare much time when it came to pondering his wife’s fate. She’d failed in her primary duty. If she went quietly to an abbey with her useless daughters, so be it. If not, he’d see her buried with the rest of his ancestors before he took Cora as his wife. His daughters could follow in time because he’d not allow them to wed and perform as their mother had. His mind was set.
*
One of the Retainers at Malcolm’s back didn’t climb the stairs.
Donald McKay had four sisters, and his father had died young, leaving his mother dependent on her position in the castle. A place the lady of the manor reigned supreme over. He turned and went to the north tower, climbing the steps quickly. There were no good reasons why Malcolm McKay might be heading up to where Cora Mackenzie slept.
It was the sort of information that could see his mother and sisters secure in the ranking of the household servants. There would be good pay and warm beds for them if the mistress was pleased about the news he delivered. Donald might know more about how to handle a sword than he did about mathematics, but it didn’t take a formal education to deduce that Malcolm McKay was about to take a bite out of the sweet young lass residing inside his keep without any chaperones.
And once he had a taste, he’d want more for certain.
Donald laid his fist on the outer door of the chambers Noreen slept in. Her personal waiting-woman pulled it open a few moments later.
“I need the mistress.” Donald pushed past her.
Half asleep, the woman only sputtered as he crossed the receiving chamber floor. “Mistress,” he announced himself, “I thought it best to tell ye where yer husband is headed while something might be done about it.”
Noreen sat up. Her hair was mussed, but her eyes narrowed as she focused on him.
“Continue, and turn around,” she ordered as she snapped her fingers at her waiting-woman to come and help her out of the huge bed.
*
Faolan was a full head taller than herself.
It wasn’t the first time Cora had noted the size of the man, but now, she had to lift her chin up so she might maintain eye contact with him. He was trying to intimidate her. Sending a stern look at her meant to bend her to his will.
She wouldn’t.
In some part of her mind, she recognized that she was being stubborn, just to prove she had the strength to stand up to him. But as for the rest of her motivations, Cora honestly didn’t know why she was so determined to dig in, only that bending was absolutely unacceptable.
She’d never show him weakness.
So, she ordered herself to stand in place as he closed the space between them once more. She felt him getting closer. Would swear she felt his body heat on her face. The night was suddenly far from chilly. It was balmy, and her clothing too thick.
“Ye should know when to yield, Cora,” Faolan muttered. “Stay in this chamber. It’s for the best.”
His last few words were spoken in a different tone. One that appealed to her rational thinking. Refusing to be weak was one thing, rushing foolishly into the unknown quite another.
“It isn’t a sin to want to be my own woman, Faolan.”
He tilted his head to one side. She caught a glimpse of agreement in his eyes, but he clamped his jaw tight against allowing any words to escape his lips.
“I’ll wager ye landed at that tower because ye refused to bend.” Cora couldn’t quite stop the words from escaping.
Her statement was a challenge. But she didn’t regret speaking.
“He refused to do what had to be done when a position such as laird is being fought over,” a new voice rose from the darkness beyond the doorway.
Faolan placed his hand against her shoulder and pushed her back into the room before rotating around to face his brother. Cora went skidding across the receiving chamber, fighting to maintain her footing.
“I suppose I should no’ be surprised to see ye here.”
From the dark stairwell, Malcolm McKay emerged. His teeth were bared as he glared at Faolan.
“Even a man such as ye.” Malcolm sneered. “Clinging to his honor like a nun to her hymen, well, ye still want a taste of this sweet little lass.”
“If I had such intentions,” Faolan began, “I would have kept her at me tower. Do nae smear me with the same blackness ye allow to color yer own soul. I am a man of clear conscience.”
“And yet, ye are here, Faolan.” Malcolm opened his arms up wide. “There is only one reason for a man to be here at this hour.”
“A man like you could only be here for one reason, sure enough,” Faolan grunted. A moment later, there was the hard sound of flesh hitting flesh. Malcolm disappeared from sight, a hard punch from Faolan sending him back into the stairwell.
“Ye must not.” Cora lunged forward. She caught the sleeve of his shirt, hooking the linen fabric hard in an attempt to pull him back.
Faolan turned a furious look on her. Rage flickered in his eyes, stunning her with just how hot it blazed.
“He came to put hands on ye Cora,” Faolan informed her bluntly.
It wasn’t so much his words that made her fingers go slack. No, it was the intensity of the emotion on Faolan’s face. He wanted to protect her, and the knowledge hit her hard, sinking so deeply into her, she was certain it touched her heart.
“Do nae pretend ye are here for anything else.” Malcolm surged up from the darkness like a demon. He rammed into Faolan, shoving him brutally into the room. Cora recoiled, moving aside just as the pair of them tumbled past her.
“I am no’ like ye, Malcolm,” Faolan hissed. He turned and flung Malcolm off him. The McKay laird stumbled a few steps before recovering.
“No, ye are not. Which is why I am laird.” Malcolm sneered. As his lips pulled away from his teeth, Cora caught sight of the blood coating them. The McKay laird chuckled as he circled his half-brother.
“Ye had the chance to fight for the lairdship. Ye conceded, so the spoils are mine.”
Faolan was shifting position. He kept his attention on Malcolm but placed himself between the McKay laird and her. Fear clawed at her insides. But it wasn’t for herself. Cora hadn’t spared a thought for the fact that Malcolm was likely there to force himself on her. No, what consumed her was that Malcolm was laird, and the stronghold was under his control.
“Stop fighting.” Cora tried to end the confrontation.
Malcolm looked past Faolan at her. “Easily done. Tell him that ye prefer me.” Malcolm shifted his attention to Faolan. “It won’t be the first time I’ve taken yer woman, will it now?”
“I will do no such thing!” Cora hissed.
“Of course, she will not.” Noreen made her entrance with a firm tone and a small army of matrons. The lady of the McKay had clearly roused half the senior kitchen staff. They flowed around her and into the chamber.
“It’s clear enough what is going on here, husband,” Noreen declared stiffly.
Malcolm’s frowned bitterly, but with so many eyes upon him, he drew himself up and reined in his temper. Half the clan was made up of women. Something any laird would be foolish to overlook. “Is it, wife?”
Noreen drew in a breath. “Aye. Such things happen…when precautions aren’t taken.” She ventured closer to Cora. “One of the reasons unmarried girls should stay close to home is to avoid difficult situations such as…this.”
There were nods from the women watching. At the entrance to the chamber, McKay Retainers were clustered on the landing outside the doorway. They strained to get a look at what was happening inside the chamber.
Cora found herself wondering if the floor might take the weight of so many people. But Noreen clicked her tongue, and the sound sent a shiver down Cora’s neck.
“Clearly Chief McKay feels he’s welcome in Mistress Cora’s private chambers.”
Cora felt her eyes widen. Noreen’s words were a blunt accusation, and no one in the room missed it. As lady of the stronghold, her word
s carried a lot of weight.
Too much for Cora’s reputation to bear.
Noreen lifted her nose. “I find these surroundings lacking in dignity. We shall continue this in the hall.”
Her word was law. There was a shuffle of feet as the Retainers clustered around the door parted and began to descend. A few came inside the chamber, intent on reaching for Cora to take her along.
“Keep yer hands off her,” Faolan warned in a low tone.
The Retainers froze. Faolan opened and closed his fingers, two of his knuckles popping loudly. He was spoiling for a fight.
Cora admitted she wasn’t far from the same need herself.
But she represented all the Mackenzies. As the laird’s sister, she had to maintain the reputation of her clan. She set her teeth into her lower lip and forced herself to move toward the door. The muscles along her neck drew tight as she descended onto the ground floor.
The great hall was where the McKay Retainers slept. Noreen had settled into her chair on the high ground, so those men who had been rolled into their plaids for the night were now wide awake. With the days growing shorter, there were more dark hours to sleep, which meant the Retainers were rested well enough to enjoy a bit of entertainment.
At her expense.
But Faolan stepped up beside her. For a moment, Cora forgot all about everything happening around her. There was only the fact that she wasn’t alone in facing it. Their gazes locked for the briefest of moments before Malcolm McKay made a large production of sitting down next to his wife.
Noreen, for her part, appeared to smile at her husband, but Cora wasn’t fooled. The smile on the woman’s lips was a practiced one. Cora knew it because she’d been schooled in precisely the same art.
Always maintain appearances.
Behind her serene expression, Cora knew Noreen was making ready to exact her revenge on her husband. Malcolm might have a mistress. He was laird, and Noreen would be expected to ignore the situation. Such an arrangement would continue in silence so long as the mistress fell beneath the authority of the lady of the house. For if the mistress conceived, the child must be of lower station than the children of the lady. But if Cora gave Malcolm a son, Noreen would see her position in jeopardy since she had only daughters.
Cora felt her belly twist. There was nothing more dangerous than a mother defending her young.
“Ye’ve crossed the line this time, Faolan,” Malcolm McKay began. He raised his voice, so it carried down the length of the hall as though it were not the middle of the night. The light level was increasing as the household staff hurried to light candles. “Half-brother or not, I cannot protect ye. The Mackenzies will be raiding our shores next spring if I fail to pass down a sentence stern enough to appease this slight to their laird’s honor.”
“My honor is not slighted,” Cora insisted.
“I thought ye older than that comment would suggest.” Noreen leaned forward to peer intently at Cora. “I heard ye are at an age to wed, no’ some half-grown lass who does nae understand that reputation is the most important thing a girl has.”
Malcolm slapped the wide arm of the chair he sat in. “Faolan…ye’re beyond contemptible for taking advantage of such a lass, and I am going to have to make ye pay for it.”
“There is only one solution,” Noreen interrupted her husband.
Malcolm frowned and shared a look with his wife.
“Faolan must wed her.” Noreen was quick to speak her mind.
“The devil ye say!” Malcolm exclaimed. He recoiled from his wife as though she’d muttered a perversion of the darkest nature.
Noreen opened her eyes wide. “Of course, that is the solution,” she purred at him. “Otherwise, the Church will be displeased with us as well.” Noreen looked toward the McKays watching. “And we will, of course, be able to gain her dowry from the Mackenzies since we are seeing to making matters…right. The Church will even back our claim.”
Those watching were silent for a moment.
And then they began to grin.
Cora felt like a noose was tightening around her neck. The attention which had been directed toward the high ground where Noreen and Malcolm sat shifted to her. Greed simmered in the eyes of the men as they calculated her worth. The women were different, though. Some of them sent her scathing looks of envy as they contemplated Faolan.
“Let’s not be hasty,” Cora appealed. “Things are always clearer in the light of day. We should wait.”
“Wait until ye are growing round with a bastard child so the Mackenzies may accuse us of wanting to prove ye are fertile before we would allow the wedding no matter the stain on yer reputation?” Noreen asked bluntly.
Cora felt her cheeks heating. Around her, the McKay Retainers were nodding and adding their agreement to their lady’s words.
“Summon a midwife, and I will prove I am still a virgin.” Cora had to force the words through her stiff lips. Such an exam was something she’d almost die rather than endure.
Almost, that was. Faolan deserved better from her, and she’d give it to him no matter the indignities necessary.
Noreen started to respond, but Faolan interrupted her.
“Yer brother would only accuse the poor woman of telling her laird what he wanted to hear,” Faolan spoke through gritted teeth. “Her word would be useless in the Mackenzie great hall.”
Cora turned and locked gazes with Faolan. Rage was flickering in his blue eyes, but there was something else. Resolve. He’d thought it through and was feeling as trapped as she was. What chilled her blood was the fact that his jaw remained clenched, proving he hadn’t found any way of changing the course of the events sweeping them both along.
“I have a betrothed,” Cora used the last thing she’d ever thought to utilize for her advantage.
“Well, now,” Malcolm began. “Perhaps the lass is bringing up a valid point for us to put this matter aside for a wee bit.”
“Wait, so the Grants and the Mackenzies have a reason to combine their strength?” Noreen stubbornly argued.
“Cormac Grant will no’ be happy to see his bride stolen,” Malcolm informed his wife sternly. “Look at the lass. She’s a prize.”
“Aye,” Faolan spoke up. “My prize by right of the fact that I saved her life. I will wed her.”
Cora jerked her head around to Faolan once more. This time there was hard purpose on his face. His eyes glittered with determination as he looked her straight in the eyes.
“I will wed her right now.”
Chapter Five
“Here now.”
Brynna spoke the words. Cora looked up as the McKay girl held out a pair of stays.
“It will nae take too much time to bring the priest up from the church. Best we get ye dressed. Ye would no’ want to be wedding in yer shift?”
Cora felt like a doll. She was detached from herself as Brynna and two other maids helped to put a finer gown on her. Someone had poked up the fire, so it was blazing because the dress was one of Noreen’s and made of delicate silk. Although beautiful, it seemed as surreal as the rest of the evening’s events.
Getting married.
Was the moment truly upon her?
Her mind was gripped by a thick fog. She caught a glimpse of herself in a looking glass. Brynna was directing two maids through the process of dressing Cora. There were long stays. Carefully quilted, and when a lace was threaded through the eyelets down the back, the garment closed to make her waist tight and support her young breasts. Next came a padded hip roll and then a farthingale.
It took all three maids to lift the underskirt up into the air.
“Raise yer arms,” Brynna instructed her.
Once Cora complied, the skirt was lowered into place and secured with a tie at her waist. The front of it was embroidered with colorful silk thread and even beaded with pearls.
He’d marry her right now.
Faolan’s voice was bouncing around inside her head. He couldn’t possibly want to wed her, and yet,
another glance in the polished looking glass showed her she was indeed being readied for her wedding.
The overdress was a fine shade of blue which went with her copper hair so well, no one would have suspected she hadn’t planned the gown for years. A first impression was important, considering her marriage had always been about the alliance first.
Well, that part hadn’t changed.
No, just the name of the groom.
Brynna finished everything up with little gold hairpins that glistened as Cora turned her head, and the light from the candles reflected off them.
“Ye are truly radiant, Mistress Cora,” Brynna sighed blissfully.
“I’ve never worn such finery in me life,” Cora admitted. She wanted to rub the silk between her fingers but decided it appeared so fragile, she didn’t dare risk damaging it.
“Yer groom will no’ be disappointed.”
Whether or not Brynna was correct was going to be tested very quickly. Cora only had another moment to ponder her reflection before there was a rap on the chamber door. Noreen came in a second later, no less than half a dozen maids at her back. They all had their faces set with stern expressions. Finding Cora dressed made them pause, two of them stumbling when the ones in front of them stopped.
“Thought ye’d have to dress me, Lady McKay?” Cora asked bluntly.
Noreen’s eyes widened at the audacity of the question. But her lips pursed. “Ye truly are fully grown, are ye no’ Cora? The woman in ye understands that while ye were born with position, to keep it, ye can nae be too picky about who yer bridegroom is.”
Noreen laughed softly. The women at her back joining her. It wasn’t a good-natured sound. No, it was husky and full of luscious knowledge.