Highland Champion (10 page)

“He will make ye a good husband,” Fiona said as she poured them each some wine.

“A reluctant one,” Keira said as she accepted the drink Fiona served her.

“I am not so certain he is reluctant. He put up no real fight.”

That was true, but Keira quickly beat down the hope that stirred within her heart. “He was sadly outnumbered.”

“Dinnae ye want him?”

“Of course I
want
him. How can any woman nay
want
him? How can she nay like him? How can she nay want to climb to the top of some high mountain and yell out to all the women of Scotland, ‘Ha! I have him now and ye dinnae!’” She smiled faintly when Fiona laughed, but then she sighed. “But so many have, havenae they? Had him, I mean.”

“Aye. Any mon that handsome will ne’er reach his marriage bed untouched, Keira. E’en my Ewan, who was so appalled by his own father’s licentious behavior that he controlled his passions with an iron fist, couldnae be chaste all the time. Sigimor, too, was verra careful in his habits. Then we have my brother Connor who wed your cousin Gillyanne. He had three women in the keep itself whom he bedded whene’er the mood took him.”

Keira nearly choked on the wine she had just drunk. “Och, nay, please dinnae tell me that I must face that!”

“Nay. As far as I can tell, Liam doesnae take lovers amongst the women who work or live within Dubheidland, or here, or e’en at his cousin’s keep. Mayhap he always kenned he would take a wife some day and didnae want the trouble that can bring. Or mayhap he didnae want the trouble it could bring
him
whene’er he went home or visited his kinsmen.”

“Or mayhap he just needed to give it a rest.”

Fiona laughed so hard she had to set her drink down on the table. It was an infectious laugh, so much so that, despite her somber mood, Keira laughed a little as well.
It was perhaps foolish to fret so over the past, yet she could not ignore what Liam’s past said about him. The man had bedded a lot of women. Worse, he probably had not had to do much to gain those favors. Women were driven to hunting him down. It did not promise a happy future.

“Keira, the mon was, mayhap, a little quick to accept all that was offered,” Fiona said, growing serious again. “And it
was
offered. I wouldnae be surprised if e’en those who require a coin or two for the giving would have bedded down with him for free. I truly doubt any mon would refuse such, er, gifts. Ye must forget it as, I suspect, he has. He ne’er wanted to marry any of them, was ne’er betrothed, and was ne’er faithful.”

“And, mayhap, he ne’er can be faithful.”

“Oh, aye, I think he can be. He behaved himself at the monastery for five long years, didnae he? He also held fast to rules few men follow—no innocents, no lies or false promises, and no wives or promised women. He believes in holding to a vow. Many of these Camerons do. As my brother Connor once told me, a mon seeks out a woman because he has an itch and wants a wee bit of warmth. If the wife gives a mon that, why look elsewhere? It simply isnae worth the trouble it can cause. Nay verra romantic, but ’tis the way most of these men think. I believe the men in your family are of the same ilk.”

“They are.” Keira finished her wine and frowned into the empty tankard. “Do ye
truly
think Liam will hold to his vows?”

“I do. Why, once Sigimor thought my Ewan had a mistress and followed him, intending to beat some sense into him.”

“And Sigimor has reared most of his
lads
, hasnae he?”

“He has. And Liam didnae spend five years training to be a monk because he had no place else to go. He has a deep belief, just nay a true calling to cloister himself. Such a mon takes vows spoken to a priest verra seriously. Come, I doubt there is any woman alive who weds a virgin.”

Keira almost said she was pretty sure she had, but hastily bit back the words. It might not be true. It was just one of far too many excuses she had made for her husband’s lack of desire for her.

For a moment, she seriously considered telling Fiona the truth, but her vow to Duncan stopped her. It had been wrong of him to make her swear to live a lie, but she had accepted that burden. She would not break her word now simply because it was inconvenient. The only one she felt she could tell the truth to was Liam—after he became her husband. She just could not think of a good way to do so or even begin to guess what his reaction might be. Keira greatly feared he would think her the worst of liars, that she played some cruel game with them all, or that she was so greedy she was willing to make fools of everyone just to claim Ardgleann.

“Do ye still grieve for your husband?” asked Fiona. “Is that what troubles ye?”

“Oh, I do grieve for him, but only in that he was too young to die and that he didnae deserve such a cruel death. I liked him and thought we could have a good marriage, but nay more than that. Howbeit, he at least chose to marry me. Liam is being forced to.”

“Nay, not forced. Persuaded. I have known these men long enough to ken that not one of them can be forced to do anything they dinnae want to. As I said, Liam didnae protest much at all. In truth, I cannae help but think he had already decided to make ye
his wife if ye would have him.”

“Fiona, we have only kissed twice, and we didnae e’en do that until we left the cottage. He certainly ne’er said or did anything to make me think he wanted to marry me.”

“Of course he didnae. Ye have money and land. He has naught Ye are higher born than he is as weel. I cannae explain how or why I believe it, but I truly do think he already had marriage in mind. I think he was slow to give ye e’en a tiny hint because he thought it wrong to reach so high, then thought to woo ye.” Fiona grimaced. “I havenae got a gift for such things as our Gilly does, but she told me that I do have a verra strong intuition about people, and I have kenned Liam for many years. I just feel certain that at least a part of him wants this and that he will make ye a fine husband. Dinnae ye care for him at all? Is that it?”

There was one truth Keira felt she could entrust Fiona with. “Aye, I love him. I think the seed was planted when I first saw him, and he certainly wasnae verra bonnie then. I havenae told him, and I probably willnae for a while. Unless I feel certain there is some scrap of the same emotion in him, I cannae risk it.”

Fiona nodded and gave Keira a brief, tight hug. “I understand that verra weel indeed. ’Tis that fear that ye might cause him such discomfort by confessing it that ye ruin what ye do have. Or e’en more chilling, all ye get in response to baring your heart is something devastatingly mild like, ‘That is verra nice, wife. Thank ye.’” She smiled when Keira chuckled. “Dinnae fret o’er what cannae be changed. Ye
will
be married on the morrow. Ye will also begin that marriage with more good than bad, I am thinking. So, as I told Sigimor’s wife when she was fretting, just love the fool. ’Tis all ye can do. ’Tis my feeling that ye will end up with something as fine as Sigimor’s wife and I have found.”

Except that the two of ye didnae go to your husband still holding true to a vow given a dead mon, Keira thought. A vow that makes ye a fraud. A vow that has chained ye to a huge lie.

“So, let us prepare for your wedding,” said Fiona, grasping Keira by the hand and tugging her out of the bedchamber. “A feast, some music, and all of that. But, first, we will find ye a verra fine gown to wear.”

Keira was more than willing to fall in with Fiona’s plans. Preparing for the wedding would keep her too busy to brood on what would happen after it.

“Mayhap she fled in the night.” Liam ignored Sigimor’s laughter as he stared at the doorway of the great hall, wondering why Keira had not yet entered through it.

“I ne’er thought ye would be nervous at such a time,” Sigimor said. “Not Liam, the greatest lover in Alba.”

Liam cursed and scowled at his cousin. “I am nay the greatest lover in this land.”

“I think a lot of women would disagree.”

“Mayhap, but mostly because they dinnae ken any better. I like the bedding. What mon doesnae? I like the feel of soft skin and womanly heat. I e’en liked most of the women I bedded, but that was easy enough, for it was often a fleeting alliance. I can string pretty words together, and I ken where to stroke them to make them ready. That is the sum of it. No great skills. No wondrous secrets. ’Tis this cursed face they bed down with, nay the mon behind it. My sin is that I kenned that weel yet still took whate’er was offered.”

“As any mon will if the lass is fair enough and doesnae stink too badly.”

Liam laughed and shook his head. “Sadly true, and if we are
itchy
enough, we will probably ignore the stink.” He sighed. “She doesnae want to marry me.”

“No one wants to be told to get married, but most are. Marriages are most often arranged by the elders for gain or alliances. I think ye and the lass start out with more than most. Ye lived together for a month and are still talking to each other.”

“More or less. That cursed Lady Maude sorely hurt my cause. And that maid at Denny’s alehouse has a verra loose tongue. Aye, the lass is talking to me again after she brooded for a while, but she doesnae trust me to hold to my vows. I dinnae mind a wee bit of possessiveness or jealousy, but I am nay sure how long I can patiently stomach my wife thinking that I cannae control my lusting at all, that I will be betraying her at every turn.”

Sigimor nodded. “That
would
cause trouble. It could be that she is uncertain of ye and of herself. ’Twill take time to cure her of that. I fear that for a while, ye willnae have much time to work upon strengthening your marriage or easing your wife’s qualms. There will be a battle to plan and to fight. When ye are settled at Ardgleann, working side by side to mend whate’er damage that swine has done, ye can sort it all out. As ye prove yourself a good laird to the people there, ye can prove yourself a good husband.”

“Aye, true enough. I do wonder how she feels about my gaining so much by this marriage, mayhap e’en usurping a place she wanted for her own. Her husband claimed her as his heir yet we both ken that once the people there ken she has a husband, they will see me as the laird, nay her.”

“Of course they will. Much better a strong mon with fighting skills than a wee lass. I would think she has the sense to see that for herself and understand it.”

“She probably does, but it doesnae mean she has to like it.”

“Then make sure all understand that ye are equal, that she speaks for ye and ye for her.”

Liam was about to compliment Sigimor on that very good idea when Keira entered the great hall and he forgot everything he was going to say. She wore a gown of a deep wine red that complimented her every gentle curve. Her hair flowed over her slim shoulders in a river of soft, shining black waves, its rich depths decorated with cream-colored silk ribbons. The dress and her hair combined to make her skin look an even
richer creamy color, soft and, at the moment, touched by the hint of a blush as everyone turned to look at her. Liam was moving toward her before he had even finished thinking about doing so.

“Here he comes,” whispered Fiona.

“How do I look?” asked Keira. “I shouldnae have worn my hair down. I am a widow, nay an unwed lass.”

“Cease your fretting. The mon cannae take his eyes off you.”

“That doesnae have to mean he likes what he sees. He could be stunned with horror.” She smiled faintly when Fiona laughed, but was too nervous to join in.

Then Liam was at her side, looking breathtakingly handsome in his black and gold doublet. Keira suspected this was some of the finery he wore when at court, and she could easily understand how it would affect the women there. He bowed to Fiona, then turned toward her, and Keira drew her breath in so sharply she nearly choked. His eyes were that warm blue color that appeared whenever he kissed her. Liam certainly did approve of how she looked.

That sign of approval, however, made Keira think of the night ahead of her, and she shivered. She had lain awake until far too late last night trying to think of a way to tell Liam her secret, all to no avail. Finally exhausted, she had fallen asleep telling herself that he would not notice. In the light of day, steps away from exchanging marriage vows with the man, she knew that was ridiculous. Liam may not have bedded any innocent maids, but she suspected it was something a man noticed, especially when the woman was one who had been married for three months.

“’Twill be alright, lass,” he whispered against her skin as he kissed her cheek.

Keira smiled and nodded as he took her by the hand and led her toward the priest standing at the far end of the great hall. She wanted to believe his words of reassurance, but even she could not tell herself that big a lie. The foolish part of her liked to think that he would be pleasantly surprised tonight, but her good sense scoffed at that. Before or after, she was going to have to tell him the truth, and that would mean exposing her humiliation. Keira knew that was one reason she could not spit out the truth, could not simply say,
Excuse me, but although I am a widow, I fear I was ne’er really a wife
.

And would she even become one tonight? she thought, finally facing her greatest fear. Liam was stirred by her kisses, but Duncan had seemed to like them, too. It was in the bedchamber, as they had stepped beyond kisses, that everything had gone so horribly wrong. Inside her was a deep, gnawing fear that she would suffer that same humiliating rejection from Liam. It was clear that she had never really convinced herself that the problem had been Duncan’s, not hers.

As they knelt on a pillow before the priest, Keira realized Liam did not have the slats of wood upon his leg. “Where are the splints?” she asked. “It hasnae been six weeks yet.”

“It has been nearly five,” he answered. “The binding remains. I wasnae able to kneel with all that wood on my leg. I will put the splints back on after we say our vows.”

Keira suddenly wondered if they would have to forego their wedding night because of his broken leg, and she felt her spirits rise.

“And take then off again later,” Liam whispered in her ear.

Her spirits plunged. She was just trying to think of a way to convince him that he could do irreparable damage to his healing leg if he indulged in something as strenuous
as bedding his wife when the priest drew her attention to him. For one fleeting moment, Keira considered refusing to repeat her vows. Then she glanced at Liam. He was watching her warily out of the corner of his eyes. She sighed and cursed her too soft heart. She simply could not humiliate him so before all of his kinsmen.

“I thought women always smiled at weddings, especially their own.”

Keira looked up at Artan as he stepped beside her. She did not need to look to her other side to know Lucas stood there. Her brothers were inseparable and always had been.

“This is my second wedding,” she said. “
And
I didnae choose to have this one.”

Artan shook his head. “Ye cannae tell me ye dinnae like the mon or want him.”

She felt a blush heat her cheeks, but she ignored it. “’Tis always better if there is some choice made freely.”

“Weel, I think the choice would have been made eventually.” Artan looked around at the men in the great hall. “’Tis a good alliance. Aye, ’twas already there in some ways, but this makes it a more direct, stronger one. These are good men to have as allies.”

That was a truth she could not argue with, but she was feeling particularly contrary at the moment “I am so pleased I can bring ye that boon through my sacrifice at the altar,” she murmured.

Lucas draped his arm around her shoulders. “Bury that resentment, Blackbird. If ye nurse it too long, it could breed a poison. He is a good mon who believes in vows spoken before a priest.”

“So everyone keeps saying,” she replied quietly, watching her new husband carry on an amiable argument with Sigimor.

Then heed them for they have kenned the mon far longer than ye have. He will make a good laird for Ardgleann.”

“Mayhap
I
wished to be the laird.”

“And ye would have made a good one, but ye have the sense to ken that matters will go more smoothly with a mon sitting in the laird’s chair. A wee lass as laird would seem a tempting target to many a mon, e’en the neighboring clans. A big, strong mon with a horde of big, strong kinsmen will make Ardgleann look strong.”

“And help keep it the peaceful place it once was. I ken it, but that doesnae mean I have to think it is fair.” She felt Lucas shrug and sighed. “Dinnae worry. I dinnae really care for I ne’er wished to be the laird. I agreed to the marriage settlements simply because I ne’er thought Duncan would die so soon after we were married. Nay, I am a healer, not a warrior. I am more than happy to set those responsibilities into Liam’s hands.”

“Something troubles ye, lass. I have seen it, and that look has lingered all day. ’Tis nearly time to sup, and I still see it. I cannae guess at what gnaws at ye, and I suspicion ye willnae tell me now either, but it wouldnae be wise to take it to your marriage bed.” Lucas nodded toward Liam, who was watching them. “Aye, and by the look upon that mon’s face, he willnae wait too much longer ere he takes ye there.”

Keira blushed for she had seen that look upon Liam’s face herself. It both warmed her and terrified her. The desire in his eyes was filled with promise, but she could not shake the fear that once alone in their bedchamber, that promise would quickly turn to ashes.

Lucas proved right in his prediction. Keira could feel Liam’s growing impatience to be done with ceremony as they ate. He even quietly endured a lot of not so subtle teasing from his kinsmen, but his tension increased until it began to infect her. It was as Sigimor proposed a third toast that Liam finally lost his restraint. He leapt to his feet with surprising grace for a man whose leg was tightly splinted. Keira quickly set down her tankard of wine as he grabbed her by the hand, pulled her to her feet, and started to drag her out of the great hall. She was a little surprised to find that she was not the only one who blushed over some of the ribald remarks flung at them as they left the room.

There was one good thing about this marriage, Keira thought as Liam led her to their bedchamber. Because she was a widow, there would be no elaborate and embarrassing bedding ceremony. They were allowed to simply go to bed, she observed, and felt her stomach knot as they entered the room. That feeling intensified when she heard Liam shut and firmly latch the door. It was then that she realized she had no real idea of what she should do next.

“Ye look a wee bit confused, wife,” Liam said as he slowly pulled her into his arms.

“Weel, I wasnae married verra long,” she murmured.

Liam pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Although I gain from what your first husband left ye, I dinnae really want him in the bedchamber.”

He kissed her, silencing the words she had almost said. Duncan was here whether Liam liked it or not. Keira allowed herself to become lost in the warmth of his kiss, too cowardly to face the truth now. The truth would be exposed soon enough, and she decided to take all she could before it was. Liam’s desire might be a shallow thing, shared too often with far too many, but she wanted to bask in its warmth for as long as she could.

Liam kept Keira bemused with kisses as he unlaced her gown. The deep blush she wore when he finally had her stripped down to her shift made him think that Duncan had been one of those men who had bedded his wife in the dark. Knowing he could not continue until he had removed the wooden slats from his leg, Liam grasped her by the hands and pulled her toward the bed. He sat down on the side of the bed and began to remove the wood that was the greatest cause of his awkwardness.

“Liam,” Keira said, “it hasnae been six weeks.”

“So ye told me earlier,” he replied as he continued to remove the splints.

“But ye could ruin all your healing if ye are nay careful.”

As he tossed the last splint aside, he looked at her. “I willnae stomp about on it.” Since his little jest had not eased her obvious concern, he said, “I feel verra strongly that it has healed enough for this, love. It aches after a long day, and I can feel that it has weakened, but nay more than that.”

Since his other injuries had healed with a pleasing swiftness, Keira thought it might be possible that the broken bone had repaired itself a little more quickly as well. The healer in her, however, continued to worry. She knelt at his feet and placed her hands upon his leg, trying to feel if there was any reason for her concern.

“My leg doesnae hurt that badly,” Liam said, but when he reached for her, she lightly slapped his hand away.

“Nay, it doesnae, but I wasnae looking for that. Now hush.” She grimaced at the abrupt way she had spoken. “Please.”

Liam shrugged. She might not have set her hands upon him to ease his pain, but it was eased. He hoped she had not taken it into herself for he did not wish to go through the whole ritual required afterward. He most certainly did not want to spend even a small part of his wedding night sitting idly by while she slept, not unless it was the sleep of a well-pleasured wife. When she stood up, he saw no sign of the reactions she had suffered before when she had laid hands upon his injury.

“Are ye weel?” he asked.

“Och, aye. I was only trying to, weel, see something, nay take away the pain or the like.”

“And what did ye see?” He braced himself for bad news.

“Nothing.” She smiled faintly when he sighed, obviously relieved. “It appears that ye
have
healed, but it would be wise to wear the splints during the day for at least another week and to be cautious in how ye use that leg. The bone appears to be mended, but the leg has weakened, and ye dinnae want to fall. That could cause trouble.”