Marti Talbott's Highlander Series, Volume 5 Page 5

  “What?” She no longer leaned hard against him, but could still feel Tristan’s muscles tighten. “You dare ask me that in front of others?”

  “If you are to be my wife, I must know the truth. Besides, these are simple people who do not even speak our language.”

  “I see.” Suddenly bold, Clare glanced at Neil and then turned around to look at her sister. “Alcott, how is your dearest friend?”

  “You have not yet answered my question.”

  “True, but mine is far more interesting to these simple minded people who do not speak our language. Your dear friend is George of Leics, is he not?”

  “George was quite well when last I saw him and I do not understand why you would bring up such a thing. Now answer my question? Has he spoiled you? I cannot have a wife who is not...”

  “Chaste?” asked Neil in English.

  A stunned Alcott quickly turned around.

  But from behind Clare, Tristan tapped Alcott on the shoulder. “We could use a good lad like you to clean up after the horses. They tend to make a considerable mess and cleaning up their droppings quickly teaches a lad to mind his manners...even in the company of simple minded people.”

  Alcott began to back away from Clare, but Neil quickly came to him. “You are the bravest of lads entering Scotland with only four. I am quite enthralled. Come, share my wine and tell me all about your friend. He is the new king, is he not?”

  Still shocked that Neil spoke English, he hesitantly nodded, let the giant take his arm and guide him to the table. Glenna took all the women, including Greer and Clare upstairs and soon the seats at the table were filled with Englishmen on one side and Scotsmen on the other, none of whom were certain what Laird MacGreagor was up to. Tristan and Brendan stayed back, but were determined to wait for Greer and Clare.

  Neil filled a goblet with wine and handed it to his guest. “We hear good things about this new king. Tell me, what do you like about him?”

  Alcott cautiously looked at the Highlander faces across the table from him. “Like about him? Ah...well...he is fair minded on most occasions.”

  Neil was tempted to make the man struggle to find flattering things to say about his king a while longer for sport, but he wasn’t sure he could abide the man’s company for long. “How long have you known him?”

  Alcott relaxed a little, on this subject he could speak easily. “We were raised in the same county, Cumberland naturally. We played together as...”

  SEATED ACROSS FROM him, Walrick finally caught Stuart’s eye and asked, “None of them speak Gaelic?”

  “Not a word. What would you like to know?”

  “How do you intend to rid yourself of him?”

  Stuart was shocked. “You know? But how...?”

  “It is what I would do. The world is better off without lads like him.”

  “He promised to give over a nice section of property when his father died, but he has broken his promise. Now I am bound to him forever, unless I can do him in somehow.”

  Walrick drank some of his wine. “We will not do it for you unless he draws his sword, but we will not protect him either.”

  “Thank you.” Stuart glanced at Alcott, who was still being grilled by Neil. “He only wants Clare to boast of her beauty to the king. They constantly try to out-do each other.” Stuart was quiet for a moment. “You will not kill him unless he draws his sword?”

  “Aye, unless he draws and aims to kill one of us.”

  “I am small yet in a fair fight, I might be able to do it myself. But the other two are loyal.”

  “I see. Then what you need is for us to provide you with a fair fight.”

  “Aye, and in return I will be a friend of the MacGreagors for life.”

  SO FAR, NEIL WAS NOT pleased with any of Alcott’s answers. However he thought he had the man plied with enough wine to be forthright when he asked a more pertinent question. “Why is the king looking for Charlet?”

  Alcott smiled, “I nearly forgot. I meant to ask you about her. Word has her being raised by the MacGreagors. Is it true?”

  “Aye there was a lass named Charlet in our clan, but it was years ago. She is probably dead by now, if that was the one. Charlet is a fairly common name in the Highlands.”

  “Dead? Are you certain?”

  “I am certain of nothing.” The man’s inability to hold his wine was becoming extremely irritating, so Neil decided to ask just one more time. “Why is the king of England looking for Charlet?”

  “I do not know who is looking for her. They are talking about her all over England. Some say she is the rightful heir, but George will never relent. It is not in his blood to lose any sort of battle and especially not to a lass.”

  It was not the answer Neil wanted, but he believed it was the truth. He sent Brendan upstairs to get Clare and then waited, giving only short answers to all of Alcott’s questions. As soon as she entered, all the men stood up. “Clare, do you wish to marry this lad?”

  Alcott finally made it to his feet, “See here, MacGreagor, I...”

  “Nay,” Clare interrupted. “May I go now?”

  “Aye.” Neil smiled and watched her go, followed by Greer, Brendan and Tristan.

  That was an end to it. Clare was a MacGreagor and it was time to send this English back to the hole he crawled out of. He noticed Alcott was not steady on his feet and nodded to Walrick. “See they are off our land and sent back to England.”

  Walrick helped Stuart take Alcott out the door and put him on his horse. He nodded as soon as Stuart mounted and then whispered instructions to the four men he was sending to escort them off the property.

  SHE WAS CALM ALL THE way back and never said a word, but when they got to Greer’s cottage, Clare could no longer maintain her composure. She was exhausted and did not hesitate to sit down on the tree stump near the cottage door and rest her face in her hands. “What a horrible little man and to think I put all my hopes and dreams in him.”

  Greer put a hand on her sister’s shoulder, “Do you forgive me for not taking you seriously?”

  “Only if you forgive me for not telling you.”

  “Only if you will tell me all about it later.”

  Clare couldn’t help but giggle. “Everyone will soon know what a baboon I have been for ever loving a man like that.”

  Brendan wrinkled he brow. “What is a baboon?”

  “It is a...”

  But Tristan interrupted, “That is what I forgot to tell Neil. Clare can read and write.”

  Brendan was thrilled, “That is it! We have been looking for something the women cannot refute and we have found it. Someone who can read and write English is very useful to the clan.”

  “Then I will stay, but I do not yet want a husband. I want to learn freedom first, and learn to weave, and learn to laugh, and even to cry.”

  Greer wrinkled her brow. “Aye, but what are we going to tell all the lads? Telling them you do not want a husband will not likely keep them away for more than a day.”

  Tristan rolled his eyes. “I suppose I could take her for a walk now and then and let the lads think she prefers me still.”

  Clare had just a hint of a twinkle in her eye when she grinned at him. “You are very kind.”

  Tristan’s smile was not as wide on the outside as it was on the inside. The moment Alcott said he was taking Clare back to England, Tristan made up his mind—when she was ready to think about taking a husband, he planned to be right there waiting.

  IN A FAIR FIGHT, ALCOTT of Cumberland, who recently became Lord of Wickerly Castle, proved to be a coward. The king granted Stuart the land he was promised—which meant the MacGreagors had a true friend in England.

  Someday they might need one.

  -End-

  DOLEE

  CHAPTER I

  SHE LOVED CAMRAN FROM the depths of her very soul. She loved walking with him, talking to him and being in his arms at night. The day he asked her to marry him, Dolee floated on air and thought her feet would
never touch the ground again. And since that first night, they had not been apart save for the times he went on the hunt, or Neil sent him to barter for hides from other clans. Camran MacGreagor was Dolee’s whole life.

  Camran’s occupation was one of honor. His strong hands easily and expertly pushed the large needle and thin leather strips through the hides to make warm winter capes and coats for the clan. Sometimes he was not satisfied with his work and fretted, but on those occasions, Dolee managed to soothe him with her soft touch and her gentle tone. It made him love her even more, if it were possible.

  They lived in one of the older cottages not far from the Keep, got along well with most everyone, and their little plot of land in front of the cottage was filled with Dolee’s favorite flowers. When there was time, they took long walks together or went to watch the training of the young colts, which was a favorite past time of many couples. Few sights were as glorious as the prance of a strong colt with its head held high and its tail straight out.

  But this year there was plenty of work and little time to watch the colts. A thick undergrowth of fur on the animals signaled a cold winter approaching and the whole clan needed to make sure they, plus the English brides were kept warm and fed. The leaves were only just beginning to turn, but some of the men felt a sense of urgency. So Neil took men away from other tasks and sent them off to hunt. When the hunt was plentiful, the women dried the extra meat and stored it just in case winter hunting became too difficult.

  With Camran busy sewing, other men were sent to barter for hides. However, the MacGreagors were not the only ones to see the signs and there were few hides to be had from the other clans. Warmth, it seemed, might have to be gained by wrapping in extra plaids and keeping the hearths lit.

  Therefore, the weaving of new garments and the gathering of more wood became just as important. Indeed, the days of fall were not idle days for anyone. The spinners spun the last of the wool into threads, the weavers worked their looms, the hunters went out every day, the tanners worked twice as hard as usual, and men like Camran spent nearly every waking hour sewing hides.

  Dolee worried about him. His sore fingers got worse every day, but he assured her they would heal and the clan was about to run out of hides soon anyway. She tried everything to ease his discomfort including lacing his shoes and even pleated his kilt for him in the mornings. She also took over other duties, such as keeping their daggers and his sword sharpened. But in the end, all she could do was watch him work and try not to notice his discomfort.

  He was not the only one hurting. Others were getting so tired they suffered more injuries than usual and Neil finally called a halt. Some of the men protested, but Neil was not willing to lose even one of them to an injury that would not heal. Instead, he removed his hold on marriages so the men could keep their beloveds warm, and began to think of other ways to conserve their resources. If the signs were true, it would be the coldest winter the MacGreagors had ever seen.

  CAMRAN AND DOLEE WERE perfect for each other. Both had yellow hair and blue eyes, and although his cheekbones were more pronounced and her nose was a little more pointed, they looked enough alike to be brother and sister. That happened with married couples sometimes, Dolee noticed, and speculated those were the couples who truly loved each other. It made her proud to count them among the truly in love.

  Camran was never harsh or demanding and seemed content just to have her near. But their marriage was not yet perfect and although he tried to hide it, sometimes she could see the hurt in his eyes. Their love had not given him the greatest gift of all—a son. In fact, Dolee had not given him any children.

  After the first year, she began to ask for advice so often, the other women were inclined to avoid her, and nothing they suggested worked anyway. One woman told her to drink mead before she went to bed and if her stomach hurt when she woke up, it was a sign she was pregnant. Her stomach never hurt. The multitude of bitter tasting berry and herb mixtures, and other potions prescribed to help her get pregnant, did not work. Some made her so ill, Camran finally put his foot firmly down and ordered her not try any more.

  The second year, Dolee consulted the priest, who was equally confounded. Most often, the women came to him asking how to keep from having children and he confessed he had little experience with a problem such as hers.

  But now she was approaching the end of the third year. According to the law of the land, after three years a man could set aside his barren wife and marry another. The very thought of it made tears come to her eyes. What would she do? Where would she go and how could she ever abide knowing another woman was in his arms?

  Dolee tried not to show her despair. She kept their small cottage spotless, their clothing clean and her husband well fed. She was a good wife and he often thanked her for it. But sometimes when she went to fetch a bucket of water from the river, she could not help but stop and watch the children play. The sight of them was almost as disparaging as the hurt in her husband’s eyes. He was not alone in his disappointment; Dolee wanted children as much as he did.

  The notion that he might be shed of her slowly grew into an obsession. She thought to ask him if he intended to set her aside, but doubted he would admit it. He did love her, she knew that for certain and therefore if he planned it, he would be forced to lie. Often, when her heart could bear the distress no longer, she excused herself and slipped into the forest to cry where he would not see.

  CHAPTER II

  IT WAS ON ONE OF THOSE quiet times in the forest that the answer came to her. For most of an hour, Dolee had been talking to God and when Nessa walked into the small clearing, she could not help but think God sent her.

  The fifth from the eldest sister, Nessa was becoming more attractive every day with long dark hair and piercing blue eyes. She didn’t expect to see anyone and as soon as she spotted Dolee, she stopped short. “What are you doing here?”

  Dolee smiled, “Just praying for a miracle.”

  “Oh, forgive me for intruding.” Embarrassed, she turned to go back.

  “I was hoping you were my miracle.”

  At that, Nessa turned. “I have been called many things, but never a miracle. Edana calls me a ghost because I am too quiet, Charlotte calls me quick, Alison thinks I am witless and Aleen normally just rolls her eyes at everything I say.” Nessa wrinkled her brow and then looked for a place to sit down. “Come to think of it, perhaps you could be my miracle.”

  Dolee was already seated on one of the many tree stumps available in that part of the forest and waited for Nessa to settle on one not far away. “What sort of miracle do you need?”

  “I want to marry a lad who prefers another.”

  Dolee interlaced her fingers, laid them in her lap and thoughtfully rubbed her thumbs together. “You do need a miracle.”

  “Aye.”

  “Might I know who the lad is?”

  “Do you promise not to tell?”

  “I promise.”

  Nessa lightly bit her lower lip, “He is Ros and I love him dearly, but he cannot see me. Emily is always with him and she demands all his attention. She is not the right wife for him, but he is too...”

  Dolee hid her smile. “Witless?”

  “Precisely, too witless to know it. Oh what am I to do?”

  “Well, I cannot see why you would want to marry a witless lad.”

  Nessa quickly stood up. “You are right. No lass wants a witless husband, even me.” Just as quickly, she sat back down. “It would not do for both the husband and the wife to be witless. On the other hand, I doubt Neil would let us get too out of hand.”

  Dolee couldn’t help but finally grin. “Tell me, what do you love about him?”

  “Everything. He is strong, kind, gentle and good to his horse. A lad who is good to his horse will also be good to his wife, do you agree?”

  “I do agree. If he has not noticed you, how do you know so much about his good qualities?”

  “I watch him...from afar. He has three little brothers a
nd I see the way he is with them. He is much older and one would think he is the father the way he keeps guard over them. He is never too busy to answer their questions; he takes them riding and teaches them absolutely everything he knows.”

  “I have noticed that too. Ros was born to his father’s first wife who died. His father did not remarry for several years and thus the difference in the ages of his sons.”

  “I see, I did not know that. He will be a good father someday and I would give all I own to have a husband like Ros. Even his smile is kind. If only he would smile at me, but he does not. Never have I known such vexation. I have tried everything to get his attention short of kicking him in the shins.”

  “That would surely work.” It should have made Dolee laugh, but although Nessa was helping to lighten her mood, she didn’t feel like laughing just yet.

  Both of them were quiet for a time, each lost in thought. Nessa took several forlorn, deep breaths and let them out. But then she studied the sadness on Dolee’s face. “You are unhappy. I have seen you often looking down as though you do not want anyone to see, but I can tell you are sad. Is it your husband?”

  “Not at all, he is a fine lad and I love him very much. You are young and would not understand. Perhaps...”

  “I understand more than you think. Nine sisters with two lazy brothers and a stupid father makes a lass discern a great deal. Is it your lack of children?”

  Dolee looked surprised. “Is it that evident?”

  “Nay, it is just that you have everything else...or seem to.”

  “I do have everything a lass could want, save children.” She forced herself to smile. “I am barren. I have tried everything and for a moment I hoped you had an answer, but now I see I was mistaken.”

  Nessa bit her lower lip again and tried to think of some way to help. “If only we were not so far away from the Widow Kennedy. She is a soothsayer and Edana warned us not to go there, so it is out of the question. Besides, to get there we would have to cross the land of the Kennedys. They are not so pleasant as the MacGreagors, believe me. Slava thought...”