A Flawed Scotsman (Clan Ross Book 4)

by Hildie McQueen

  When she slid a look to Calum, he’d paled. “I am Ruari Ross’ wife now.”

  “Is that true?” the Mackenzie snapped, looking to her father who’d remained without expression.

  “Aye, they came together last night, as husband and wife. We have witnesses.”

  Esme didn’t dare look at her father. Was he aware that, indeed, Ruari had spent the night in her bedchamber? Certainly, Ruari had left her chamber upon awakening.

  “Is that why he is here then?” The Mackenzie’s shrewd eyes moved past her to Ruari.

  The Mackenzie looked to Calum who swallowed visibly. “Why were ye not informed of this?”

  “I left before it happened.”

  “Was a clergyman inside the keep when ye left?”

  Calum nodded. “Aye.” He lifted his gaze to Esme and then to her father. With a guttural cry, he pulled out a dagger and attempted to stab Mackenzie but was cut through by a warrior swiftly. With a shocked expression, Calum fell from his horse.

  The Mackenzie looked down at the dying man and chuckled. “It seems I’ve been bested by a strong-willed lass. This time.” He looked to the men behind him. “Bring the women.”

  “I hear ye are a brave young woman,” the Mackenzie said, meeting Esme’s eyes. “I would have been glad to have ye as part of my family.”

  He then looked to her father. “There will not be bloodshed today, Fraser. However, ye will soon see that an alliance would have been in yer favor.”

  When her mother and Catriona appeared, they were escorted by warriors who released them to run toward them. Catriona stumbled the entire time, seeming disoriented and unstable on her feet. Esme held her breath, expecting at any moment for an arrow to fly through the air and strike them. Only when both were lifted to horses by guardsmen did she let out a relieved breath.

  Her father kept eye contact with the Mackenzie. “I would like to return to my clan and guarantee them peace, but I know ye will not cede this easily.”

  Laird Mackenzie shrugged. “I am not one to give up, however, I am also not foolish enough to fight a clan with a strong army behind it unless provoked.”

  “Is this a truce then?” her father asked. Esme held her breath.

  Finally, the Mackenzie replied, “Aye.” When his gaze moved to her, Esme knew he lied. The man was formulating what to do next as the word left his mouth. She looked to her father who seemed satisfied and wondered if she’d imagined the look. Surely the man would not speak the agreement in front of so many and then go back on his word?

  As they turned away, she turned and glanced at the man again. The corners of his lips lifted. Her skin crawled.

  Things were not over. Not by a long shot.

  Halfway between Mackenzie Keep and hers, the Ross warriors split off and headed north. The Frasers from across the river continued forth. They’d remain for another few days before returning.

  “Ye and I do not have to marry,” Esme told Ruari. “I do not trust this will ever end. There is no need for ye to remain.”

  When his gaze met hers, there was uncertainty. “Is that what ye wish?”

  “Does it matter anymore what anyone wants? There is no need for our clans to unite. The Ross has shown his support of my clan and that is ultimately all we can ask for.”

  “I gave my word,” Ruari replied. Interestingly, he did not say anything else which made her wonder if he was glad for the reprieve.

  “However?”

  “There is no however,” he replied and looked straight ahead. “Everything has already been decided. I see no reason not to go ahead and marry.” Although he smiled at her, it did not reach his eyes.

  “Ruari?” Esme reached over and touched his arm. “Once I see about my mother and friend, I hope that ye and I can spend time alone to talk.”

  He nodded and met her eyes for a moment. He was so extraordinarily handsome, her heart constricted at the perusal. When she looked to his wide shoulders, all she could think of was how enticing his body was.

  “Something does bother me,” Esme told him. “The Mackenzie. He had this strange look when we left.”

  “He will move to another target. Someone else will raise his ire,” Ruari said. “Do not worry overmuch.”

  Upon arriving at the keep, Esme hurried to her mother who, other than disheveled, looked to be unharmed.

  Catriona, on the other hand, had obviously been beaten. Keithen had her upon his horse and lowered her gently to waiting men who then quickly took her into the house.

  She raced after them. “What happened to her?”

  No one answered. She directed them to take Catriona to a bedchamber just past the great room.

  “Catriona?” She hovered over her friend as the healer came in.

  “I did not think I’d ever return here.” Catriona’s voice was weak. Blood trickled from her split lip when she spoke. “I wish to die…” she swallowed.

  “Water, please.” Esme held a hand out to a maid who gave her a filled cup. She lifted Catriona’s head to press the cup to her lips.

  Esme moved away from the bed to allow the healer and his helper to see to her friend. Unable to keep from it, she let out a shaky breath to keep from crying out loud.

  It was obvious what had happened. Catriona’s dress was torn, her breasts exposed, her neck purpled with toothmarks.

  “How could that man have allowed this?” she said to Keithen when he entered and stood as still as a statue.

  Catriona let out a scream when her arm was straightened so that it could be splinted.

  The rage in her brother’s expression startled Esme. She’d never seen him so angry. “Whoever did this will pay with his life.” He stared at Catriona’s contorted, bloodied face and then stalked away.

  Catriona’s midsection was wrapped as one of her ribs was fractured and so was her right arm. There were cuts and bruises all over the poor woman’s body. Dark purpling bite marks on her neck and shoulder told a horrible truth about how much had been done to Catriona.

  The healer moved back and motioned to maids who waited with a basin of water and cloths. “Ye may clean her now. Ensure not to jostle her arm overly.”

  Esme returned to Catriona’s bedside. Her friend whimpered, tears mixing with the dirt on her cheeks. The maids neared with warm water and cloths and they began to clean Catriona, who seemed to hurt with each jostle.

  “There, there.” Esme did her best to console Catriona and took a wet cloth to wash away blood and dirt from her face. “Ye will feel much better once the herbs take effect.” Esme looked to a maid who tossed dirty water out of the window. “Bring more water and some whisky.”

  The young woman hurried off and Esme returned her attention to Catriona. “Ye are alive and safe now.”

  “Wh-where is my mother?”

  “She was quite upset at seeing ye. I will send someone to fetch her once ye are cleaned up.” By the shocking swelling of Catriona’s face and so many injuries, she wondered if her friend’s mother would pass out at the sight.

  “Is there something ye wish to say?” Esme said to a guard who stood at the doorway.

  “The laird wishes a word with ye.”

  “Go fetch her mother,” Esme said to another servant and then turned her attention back to the guard. “Tell my father I will be there as soon as Catriona’s mother is here.”

  The guard hesitated, his gaze going to Catriona and widening, his face became like stone.

  Esme walked past a great room filled with villagers and straight into her father’s study and stopped upon seeing her mother, who’d washed up, Ruari, Keithen and the local vicar. “What is happening?” She was tired and hungry and wanted to sleep. But she’d already planned to remain with Catriona. Now something else was afoot and Esme was not sure she could handle another problem.

  Her father motioned her forward. “Ye and Ruari Ross will marry immediately. Upon the marriage taken place, ye will go with him to Ross lands.”

  Her legs wobbled and she reached out to grasp the
back of a chair. “What? We’d agreed that I would remain here. Fifty warriors…” She stopped talking.

  Of course. Her father, like her, had realized the Mackenzie had no plans to abide by the agreement. He would target both her and Keithen next.

  “What about Keithen. How will he be kept safe?”

  Her brother huffed. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I do not wish to leave. I will not leave. I can and will fight alongside ye both to defend our clan, our people.”

  She looked to Ruari, expecting that he’d support her. It had been his idea, after all, to move there and be with her clan.

  Whatever he thought was hidden in the hazel gaze that met hers.

  “Do ye not think it matters where I am? The Mackenzie can still send men after me.”

  Ruari shook his head. “Ross Keep is unbreachable. No one has ever been able to enter during an attack. Ye will be very safe there.”

  “This is not just about me,” Esme cried out, too angry to keep from stomping her foot. “This is about what is right. How can ye allow that man to intimidate us?”

  Her father slammed his fist on the table, making Esme jump.

  “Enough. Ye will do as I say and hold yer tongue. Ye take too much liberty, Esme.”

  She didn’t want to marry Ruari in that moment. Did not wish to be treated like an object and marry who was chosen for her, sent to live where they decided. No questions or regards for her opinion.

  “We will go out there,” her father said, pointing toward the great room. “A marriage ceremony will be held.” He gave her a pointed look. “A ceremony without incident.”

  Esme clenched her teeth. “Do sheep protest going to slaughter?”

  “Esme!” Her mother came to her side and grabbed her upper arm. “Cease at once. Ye cannot possibly compare what ye are about to do to what others have suffered in the last days.”

  There was pain in her mother’s gaze and Esme realized something horrible had, indeed, happened to both her and Catriona.

  “I am sorry, Mother.”

  “Shall we proceed?” the vicar asked, motioning to the doorway. First her father, followed by Keithen and Ruari walked out. She and her mother followed.

  Murmuring began at their presence. Esme clutched her hands together to keep her trembling from showing. She kept her chin lifted, her gaze straight ahead, refusing to look anyone in the face.

  It was a solemn night, after all. No one would celebrate. Injured men recovered in the adjoining halls, others were recently buried. Her dear friend lay upstairs battered and bruised, her own mother recently suffered a traumatizing event.

  The vicar held his hands up to quiet those gathered and motioned for Esme and Ruari to come before him.

  Never before had she felt small next to Ruari as she did in that moment. It wasn’t so much his physical size as it was the entire situation.

  Yes, she cared for him and was very attracted to Ruari, but they’d made a decision for her to leave and go away without ever asking her opinion. Her father was trying to protect her, that was true, but he knew she would rather die there fighting than to hide far away.

  Ruari’s hand enveloped hers and a ribbon was wrapped around them by the vicar. The warmth of his callused hand seeped up her arm and she let out a long breath.

  They repeated the vows after the vicar, their gazes on one another, never wavering.

  “I, Ruari Lachlan Ross, take thee, Esme Lenora Fraser, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, for fairer or fouler, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereunto I plight thee my troth.” His voice remained strong and clear.

  Even before speaking, Esme could barely keep from crying. This day, she knew, would come eventually. However, in that moment, every dream of how her wedding would be was dashed. She felt foolish that, as a grown woman, the thought of how ugly she looked would be the way she’d remember her wedding day. In a soiled gown, face etched with dirt from travel, hair askew, she was standing before her clan getting married.

  In a quiet voice, she repeated the vows, each word like a needle scratching into her skin. “I, Esme Lenora Fraser, take thee, Ruari Lachlan Ross, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereunto I plight thee my troth.”

  The vicar gave her a warm look and blessed their union.

  When Ruari leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, it shook Esme out of feeling sorry for herself and she looked into his eyes. “When must we leave?”

  “At daybreak,” he replied and squeezed her hand. There was no warmth in his gaze, nor did he linger at her side. Instead, he went to speak to the Ross men, probably instructing them to prepare for the departure.

  Her mother neared and placed her arm around Esme’s waist. “We must go and prepare yer belongings. I am told a cart will follow the party in the morning so ye can take as much as ye want.”

  “Mother, I am not prepared to leave. Catriona is still very ill and what about ye? I cannot bear to leave ye right now.”

  Her mother, as usual, had little opinion other than to cede to her husband’s wishes. “It is not our place to deem what shall be done. We are to obey. Did ye not just recite vows? Ye are now beholden to yer husband and must do as he says.”

  “He’s barely said a word to me.” Esme blew out a breath. “I must go see about Catriona.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ruari leaned on the corral fence. People were leaving the keep, heading to the villages before darkness caught them along the road. Horses were hitched to wagons and families loaded. Chatter was gleeful despite the lack of festivities. Each family had been given smoked boar and tarts that had been quickly cooked in the kitchens, which made everyone happy.

  There was no light from Esme’s window and he instinctively knew she was seeing to her friend. She would probably spend the night there.

  The poor lass’ injuries were extensive, and he understood that if it were his close friend, he, too, would prefer to be bedside than anywhere else.

  Now that Esme would return to Ross Keep, there was much to consider. He did not possess a home. He’d spent his entire life inside the keep. First inside the home and then upon his thirtieth birthday, he’d decided to live in the two rooms behind the stables. Always a loner, he’d preferred the quieter space to that of the crowded keep.

  The rooms were not a place for his wife to live in. Other arrangements had to be made.

  “The men wish to speak to ye,” his cousin said, motioning to the warriors and archers who stood huddled together.

  “Very well.” Ruari walked to the men. “I wish to thank ye for yer willingness to come with me here. For now, we will return to Ross lands, whether permanently or for a certain amount of time, I do not know for sure.”

  “We have something for ye,” Ewan said and held up a sword that gleamed in the last of the sunlight. “Upon hearing of an expert swordmaker in the nearby village, several men went to fetch ye a wedding gift.”

  The weapon was astonishingly beautiful. Ruari reached for it, his hand trembling.

  “Stunning,” he said, holding it up. The men looked on with pride that echoed his own. His men, clan and family accepted him fully. No matter what happened to his parents, Ruari understood, in that moment, how lucky he was.

  Once again, he looked up to Esme’s window. Although she was a strong lass, she would be forced to leave her people and it would be hard on her.

  “Thank ye all for this. I will treasure it always. She feels good in my hand.”

  There were crude remarks that made him chuckle. Men always found a way to turn every comment into a sexual reference.

  Ewan remained behind after the guards all went in search of a place to sleep. His cousin studied the sky f
or a few moments. “Do ye wish to return?”

  “No. I would prefer to remain here. However, I must keep my wife safe.”

  They stood together for a few moments, neither speaking. “Ye should stay.” Ewan looked at him. “The Mackenzie will do the same whether ye are here or not.”

  “Yes, but Esme will be away from danger.” Ruari shook his head. “Why are ye against departing? What does it matter?”

  Both turned to watch the keep gates close for the night. After a moment, Ewan let out a breath. “It feels as if we’re abandoning them.”

  Ruari considered his cousin’s words. Is that what they were doing? The clans who’d come to show their support would also be departing. If the Mackenzie decided to attack again, this time, they’d all perish. Although fifty men did not represent a huge number, it was enough to help them hold their own until reinforcements arrived.

  “I do not know what to do,” Ruari admitted. “Without our men, they are vulnerable. I should go and speak to the laird. Perhaps it is best for us to remain.”

  “Do ye wish me to accompany ye?”

  Ruari shook his head. “Thank ye, but it’s best that I do this alone.”

  Upon entering the keep, only a few people remained in the great room. Off-duty guards settled onto pallets near the hearth and some servants scurried about doing last chores for the day.

  “Where is the laird?” Ruari asked a lad who pointed toward the stairs. “He just went up.”

  Hoping to catch Keithen, he went to the laird’s study and found the man standing next to a side table holding a glass of whisky. Upon seeing him, Keithen motioned to the decanter. “Help yerself.”

  “Am I to presume there will not be a wedding night for ye?” Keithen asked without expression.

  “Yer sister is with her friend. I understand.”

  Keithen frowned into his glass. “Catriona seemed broken. The ride back here was the longest of my life.”

  “Ye have known her a long time then?”

  After letting out a breath, Keithen nodded. “Since we were young. She and Esme have been friends since childhood.”