Dangerous Pride (21 page)

Lachlan examined the amber liquid in his glass, downing it in one gulp as he reached for the bottle.  “I’m afraid she is no’ wrong.  It was the only way I could get her to agree to the wedding, and given yer sister’s history, I did no’ think I could risk having her steal away before the deed was done.”

Iain’s look of surprise would have been almost comical, had the topic not been such an embarrassment to them both.  His own cheeks were already red, and Lachlan knew the subject was a difficult one for a brother to discuss.  With a sheepish expression, he met his friend’s questioning gaze.  “Yer sister demanded my guarantee that the wedding would be a strategic alliance – and naught more – and I gave it.”

“You canna possibly mean to keep yer word?” Iain demanded, amazed at his friend’s calm demeanor in light of the circumstances.  “I ken full well my sister can be a handful, but do you really mean to agree to a marriage without any of the…the..comforts a man can rightfully claim as his own?  And what about an heir?” he blustered, his tone indignant.

Lachlan raised his hand for silence, brooking no further comment from his friend.  “What is between me and yer sister is our business, not yers.  Right now, she is like a half-tamed colt, and I do no’ intend to break her spirit by pushing her too far, too fast.  In time, she’ll see things differently, but any convincing will be done with a gentle hand, or no’ at all.”

Iain sat stiffly back in his chair. He wasn’t satisfied with his friend’s strategy, but he knew Lachlan would not be pushed on the issue.  “Aye, then, I’m sure you ken what’s best,” he said finally, though his tone was skeptical.  Iain knew his friend’s appetites too well to think he would settle for an empty marriage for long, but he also knew better than to say so.

Draining his brandy, he motioned for Lachlan to refill his glass before he continued.  “I thought it best to discuss the situation at Boyne before everyone is too far into their cups.”  Lachlan raised his eyebrows, motioning for his friend to continue.  “As you can rightly expect, my da was shocked by the news of Catriona’s return, and by the wedding, but he kens it is the best for all concerned.  He bid me to give you his blessing for the marriage – and to wish you good luck in it, too,” he said, chuckling softly.  “He plans to visit at the end of the month, after you two have had a chance to settle into married life.”

Iain nervously cleared his throat before he continued.  “When I was at Boyne, I had a chance to see firsthand the influence Calum Leslie has gained in my da’s keep.  When he heard Catriona had been found, and was to marry you, he flew into a terrible rage.  I honestly think he would have stopped the wedding, if he’d had a chance, but da and I agreed to withhold the news until the last minute.  By then, he could do naught.”

“This does no’ surprise me, and it should no’ surprise you, either,” Lachlan said evenly.  “We’ve known for some time that Leslie’s power in yer father’s keep has grown too strong.  Marriage to yer sister would have given him the perfect opportunity to take even greater control – particularly if you were no longer in the picture.”

Iain snorted his contempt.  “The same could be said of you, my friend.  If my sister were to become a widow, she would be ripe for the picking.”

Lachlan nodded his agreement.  “Then there is little to be done but to make sure Calum ne’er has the opportunity to do aught to either of us.  Did you tell yer father you plan to return to Boyne for good in the fall?”

“Aye, and he was none too pleased to hear the news.  I fancy he has enjoyed having Leslie fawn all over him, like the obedient son he ne’er had.  Calum tells him what he wants to hear, and so far, he’s shown no interest in finding out the truth himself.”  Iain unfolded his long legs in front of the fire, stretching his arms above his head. “I ken Leslie will be furious when I take my rightful place as heir to Boyne, but my da has sworn to say naught of it for the time being.”

“We best make sure we do no’ give Leslie any opportunity to undo our plans,” Lachlan warned, knowing the man would be busy plotting his revenge as soon as he learned his power and influence were rapidly coming to an end.

After some discussion of increased security measures at the two keeps, the men joined the wedding guests in the great hall.  Spying his mother near the entrance, Lachlan escorted her to a place of honor at the head table.  After she had arranged her skirts, and checked that her coiffure was in place, Lady Forbes reached up and laid her hand against her son’s cheek.  “You have done me proud today, Lachlan,” she said, a glint of tears shining in her pale blue eyes.  “I know it wasn’t your desire to wed the lass, but I think you’ll be pleased with her.  She is a bright girl, full of life, and if you but give her the chance, I think she will make you a good wife.”

Touched and a little surprised by his mother’s concern, Lachlan gently kissed her palm as he smiled down on her.  His mother was not a warm woman, and he realized it had been difficult for her to share her feelings with him.  “I’m sure Catriona will be most grateful to have you as her champion, mother,” he said kindly, his words prompting a smile on the dowager’s tired, lined features.

“Your father would have been proud of you,” the dowager replied, her eyes briefly misting with tears before she turned to meet his concerned gaze.  “Catriona may not be much like me, but I think she will be a good wife for you.  She’s loyal, and hardworking, even if she is a mite willful.  All she needs is a little time to adjust to you, and her responsibilities, and she will be fine.”  Lady Forbes grasped her son’s hand, pulling him closer so she wouldn’t be overheard.  “Give her children, son, and all will be well between you.  The sooner the better.”

Lachlan was caught off guard by his mother’s advice, but he quickly masked his surprise and embarrassment with a rakish grin.  “I do no’ think you need worry about being a granny for a while yet.  But should we have such good fortune, you’ll be the first to know.”  Flustered, Lachlan excused himself, leaving the dowager in Rory’s care while he went off in search of his wife.

Lachlan was only a few paces closer to the doorway when he was stopped by a neighbor.  He forced himself to make polite conversation, but his mind was focused on finding his bride.  Catriona didn’t know many of the guests, and he didn’t want her to be left alone in unfamiliar surroundings.

His neighbor was droning on about plans for rotating the crops in his fields when Lachlan spied Catriona waiting at the entrance to the hall.  His conversation immediately forgotten, Lachlan walked toward her without a word of goodbye to his neighbor.  Though Catriona was surrounded by a small group of women, and appeared to be engrossed in conversation, he could see from her tense posture she was anxious to be rescued.  When their eyes met, he saw a flicker of relief on her pretty features.

“I trust yer rested, my lady, and ready to join the celebration,” he said as he offered her his arm.  Lachlan was delighted to see the look of gratitude in her eyes as she greeted him with a shy smile. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the head table.  When she nodded her agreement, he made their excuses to the ladies, and led her to the back of the hall.  “It will no’ be much longer, lass,” he said, silently admiring the fortitude she had demonstrated throughout the trying day.  She was stronger than he had realized.  “We’ve the meal, and some toasting, and then there will be dancing for a bit.  If yer tired, or uncomfortable, you have to but say the word and we can retire for the evening.”

“
We
will retire, my lord?” Catriona replied, her shapely brows raised in question.

Silently berating himself for his poor choice of words, Lachlan struggled to regain the ground he had lost. “I beg yer pardon for my poor choice of words.  I will simply be escorting you to yer new chambers.  They adjoin mine, you see,” he added, embarrassed to find himself struggling to explain himself to his own wife.  “While we are enjoying our supper, several of the lasses will be moving yer things to yer new quarters. After all, it would appear a mite strange if the bride and groom were to leave the celebration separately, bound for separate quarters.”

“Of course,” Catriona mumbled, feeling foolish for having overreacted. The solemn, guileless look in Lachlan’s eyes removed any of her remaining doubts about his sincerity.  “Thank you for yer thoughtfulness.  And for the gift of the necklace,” she added, letting the pearls slip through her fingers as she toyed with them.  He felt his breath catch in his throat at a sight that was inexplicably erotic.

He was saved from having to respond when they arrived at the table.  Lachlan pulled out a chair to his right for Catriona, and helped her settle herself.  “This time I will ask a favor of you, lass,” he whispered next to her ear.  “I do no’ want the clan to think aught is amiss between us.  I would ask that you do yer part to act the besotted bride.  I shall act the besotted groom, and no one will be the wiser.”

“As you wish,” Catriona replied, though she was doubtful his people would pay attention to such things.  At a loss for anything else to say, she turned her attention to the food being placed before her.  As she watched him speak to the guest seated beside him, she suddenly realized that it was a very good thing he had no idea how little acting would be required on her part.

In the weeks following the wedding, Catriona was delighted to discover she’d been able to adjust to life at Tolquhon with ease.  The clan was welcoming and supportive, grateful for her role in the strengthened relationship with their sometimes fractious neighbors.

To the immense relief of all, reiving between the clans had gradually dwindled to nothing in the weeks following the wedding.  Though there had been grumbling from some of the young men who clearly missed the sport of it, calmer heads had prevailed, and a new spirit of cooperation had been forged.

Even the dowager had proven to be supportive and welcoming.  Shortly after the wedding, Catriona began to set aside time every afternoon to sit with the elderly woman in her solar.  The first few visits had passed awkwardly, with extended periods of silence.  Finally, the dowager had suggested they use the time to good purpose, and they had begun a new tapestry to adorn the walls of the great hall.  Though the dowager’s skill far surpassed Catriona’s, the pair soon settled into a comfortable routine.  As much as Catriona doubted they would ever be close friends, she was grateful for the older woman’s acceptance, particularly since she knew she hardly possessed the skills and disposition the dowager had wanted in a daughter-by-marriage.

It had taken Catriona several weeks to learn the rhythm of the keep and its occupants, and to see how she could best find her place in her new home.  Mrs. Bannerman, Tolquhon’s devoted housekeeper of many years, had enthusiastically introduced the lass throughout the keep, anxious to have another pair of hands to help with the work. Catriona had been surprised to learn the dowager had been only too happy to hand off the responsibilities of the lady of the keep, citing her advancing years and ill health.  Catriona suspected she did so more out of respect for her new daughter’s sense of pride and purpose, and she was appreciative of the dowager’s sensitivity.

The keep had been sadly lacking in medicinal herbs and those used to season food, and Catriona had immediately set about correcting this shortcoming.  She was grateful for an opportunity to put her skill and experience to use.

She was disappointed but resigned to the fact her own father was considerably less concerned about her happiness and well-being.  Though Iain had visited her several times since the wedding, she had not had any contact with the Earl.

Pride prevented her from taking the first step and visiting Boyne Castle herself.  Though she knew she owed her family an apology for the pain and grief she had caused them during the years she spent in the abbey, in her heart she believed the wrong they had done her was far worse.  All her life, their greater love for Elizabeth had been obvious, and even now it reached beyond her sister’s grave.  One day, she would muster the strength to face her father, but not until she was ready.

In the first weeks following their wedding, Lachlan had insisted Catriona take one of his men whenever she left the security of Tolquhon’s walls, but she chaffed under this demand, preferring to maintain her privacy.  Recently, he had relaxed his orders somewhat, and she found she was often able to slip away from the keep unnoticed.  As long as she returned within a few hours, no one seemed to be bothered by her absence.

Most mornings, Catriona would take a simple breakfast of porridge and tea in her bedchamber, before she dressed and began the day’s work.  It had become her custom to visit the kitchens every morning, to discuss plans for the day’s meals with Mrs. Bannerman and Mairi, the cook, and to determine what supplies might be required.  Lachlan’s men were only too happy to oblige if Catriona expressed a desire for grouse, deer or pheasant.  Any excuse to hunt game on the rich, lush land was welcomed.

The kitchen was a warm, comforting place, and Catriona enjoyed passing time with the woman who worked there.  Though Mairi lacked some of the finesse Cook had employed in the kitchen at Boyne, she was a happy, cheerful woman whose motherly interest in Catriona was a welcome reminder of Cook’s caring.

Mairi’s plump, full cheeks were always bright red, due in large part to the heat in the kitchen.  It stood next to the clan’s bake house, and in the summer months, the heat was unbearable at times.  Despite the discomfort in the summer months, Catriona knew the kitchen would be a welcome refuge in the winter, for Tolquhon was a droughty castle.  The castle’s prison, which was also located beside the bake house, stood empty, since there were no reivers to be found encroaching on Forbes lands.  The absence of prisoners was a blessing, Catriona decided, because no one would be likely to survive the incredible heat in that pit for long.

Mairi’s husband Quinton worked closely with Lachlan, overseeing the records for the keep, and providing his services as a clerk whenever grievances had to be settled between kinsmen.  The man’s slight, almost delicate features were in sharp contrast to his wife’s ample figure, though the couple seemed well matched in everything but size and temperament.  Where Mairi was boisterous and determined, Quinton was quiet and retiring.  It was from Quinton – through Mairi – that Catriona largely managed to keep informed about her husband’s activities.  Since the wedding, Lachlan had maintained a safe distance between them, a fact that both pleased and frustrated her.