Highland Fire (Guardians of the Stone) (28 page)

“Ach, ye randy lil bastard!” Aidan scolded. “Ye gave us a fright! Nay, the ground won, and ’tis lucky ye are that Caoineag didna feel like weepin’ tonight.” He peered at his wife, who was curled at Keane’s feet.

“I didna wish to wake them,” his brother said.

Lìli was the first to open her eyes. She blinked and smiled at the sight of Keane’s open eyes and Aidan felt a surge of gratitude clear to the core of his soul. He wanted to kiss her in that instant, with all his heart.

Sorcha awoke next and went squealing to the other side of the Keane’s bed. Keane lifted his hand and tried to ruffle her hair, but the effort lacked much strength.

Una snorted awake, her hand tightening around her staff in her hand. She thrust it out, and gave a little gasp, and Keane’s eyes sought the sound. “I dinna suppose Meara sleeps none the wiser?” his brother dared to ask.

Aidan lifted a brow. “If that is all ye have to say, I ken ye’ll be just fine, but nay. Meara, the poor lass was the one to find ye.”

Keane nodded almost imperceptibly and tried to wet his lips as Una finally came to the bedside.

Lìli reached behind Aidan’s back, to retrieve a small dish she had set there. “She dabbed a cloth inside the dish and set it upon Keane’s lips. He grimaced. “’Tis bitter,” she advised, “but the
vin aigre
will work its magic both inside and out if ye can but bear the sting.”

Keane grinned a hideous grin. “Ach, I’m a mon now,” he bragged. “Suppose I can stand a wee bit o’ pain.” His glazed eyes sought Aidan’s and Aidan realized he was referring to the toast they’d shared yesterday morn. He patted his brother’s shoulder. When Keane tried to move, he pressed his hand down to prevent him from rising. “Later,” he said. “Rest.” Later was soon enough to have a talk with the boy as well. He needed to grow up for the sake of the clan.

His sister Lael walked into the room and seeing Keane awake, she too gave a little joyful squeal and ran to the side of the bed where Sorcha stood. For a moment, Aidan studied his sisters standing side by side and realized how disparate his oldest and youngest sisters were. Sorcha was far more like Lìli in more ways than simply the color of their hair and the freckles on the bridge of their noses. She had very little in common with either Lael, Cat or Cailin.

Concealing her thoughts even from Aidan, Lael spared a glance for his wife but held her tongue, acknowledging neither gratitude nor contempt before her gaze returned to Keane.

For her part, Lìli remained silent, but she remained exactly where she sat, neither cowing to nor confronting his sister, and a thread of pride wove its way through Aidan's heart. Indeed, the lass would find her place amongst his kin.

“Have you any memory of what happened?” Aidan pressed his brother.

Keane shook his head, his pale green eyes hazed with pain. “Only that I stood one moment watching Meara’s sweet—” His gaze danced around the bed, at the faces surrounding him, remembering himself—”er, the next I was face down in Caoineag’s Pool.”

“Was there no one else near?”

Once again, Keane shook his head. “I canna clearly recall, but I dinna think so. My eyes were pre-occupied,” he confessed, and tried again to grin. The effort cost him. He groaned in pain.

“Serves ye right!” Una announced suddenly, smacking the end of her staff so loudly upon the wooden floor that it echoed below. No doubt she would have preferred to abuse Keane’s head instead. “Despite that ye like to think so, ye’re no mon,” she declared. “Ye’re as much a wee babe as the day I dragged ye kicking and screaming out of ye’re minny’s womb. And if ye dinna mind yourself, ye’ll ne’er see the day!” She turned away, but Aidan noted her glazed eyes, and he knew that she did not intend to allow anyone to see her cry. “Ach,” she groused, “a growing boy indeed harbors a wolf in his belly!” And she stomped out the door.

No matter that Keane did not recall what happened at the waterfall, Aidan would not rest easily until their guests were long departed. They had come to see Lìli wed, and now that the deed was done, there was no reason for any of them to remain. Their presence here only threatened discovery of the stone. So whilst his brother continued to recuperate, he rounded up their Scots guests, returned their weapons, and sent them on their way.

Lìli stood upon the pier, worrying her hands, but otherwise said little. If Lael had had her way, they would have sent the Scots off with nothing more than what they’d arrived with, but his sister nevertheless arranged a basket of food that would see them to their destination—as long as they did not gorge themselves during their meals.

Aidan insisted Aveline go along with them. As far as he was concerned, his wife didn’t need a maid, nor had Aveline shown much interest in performing any of the duties for which she had been employed.

“She is not my charge,” Rogan complained, speaking up at once.

Aidan lifted a brow, a scornful retort hovering upon his lips, for only now did the man suddenly not have any use for the girl. He could easily imagine the woman’s belly distending three months hence, and Rogan clearly did not care. The fellow had done little to change Aidan’s opinion of him, and Aidan would be glad once he was gone. “Neither is she mine,” he maintained.

“Alas, but I do not have a place for her under my roof, and it will displease David immensely if I send her home to Teviotdale.”

David could hang himself on the laces of his boots, for all Aidan cared. “’Tis a bluidy shame,” he said.

Rogan gave the maid a weary glance, and she visibly cowed. Aidan had a sudden shred of compassion for the lass and wavered. For her part, Aveline seemed torn. She clearly did not feel at home here, and yet she seemed to be gazing at Lìli anxiously, silently pleading with his wife that she speak in her behalf.

Lachlann handed Rogan his weapons. The man placed his sword in his scabbard and his knife in his satchel. His men were already prepared to ride, none daring a glance at their lord. “Would you truly send the lass to travel unchaperoned with five men?”

“Four,” Aidan countered stubbornly. “Seems to me the priest dinna retain possession of his balls.”

The sour-faced prelate made a choked sound, appearing affronted. He shifted from foot to foot, his face turning pink, but said nothing, especially after sending Una a wary glance. With a bit of the devil in her one good eye, Una smirked, digging the end of her staff into the ground, needling the man, and Aidan nearly laughed.

“Aidan…” Rogan used Aidan’s name as though they were long time friends. “Come now... ye canna mean to leave your wife without her maid? The two have been together far too many years to separate them now.”

Surprised by the claim, Aidan glanced at Lìli. Her brows knit softly in response, though he could not tell if it was in surprise at Rogan’s words, or consternation. Mayhap she didn’t wish to gainsay him?
Mo chreach,
she might well become a bossy warrior wench when she was asked to ply her healing skills, but one night in his bed clearly had not given her the nerve to speak up now if she disagreed with him. “Is this true?” he pressed her, wanting to give her her heart’s desire... not simply in gratitude for helping his brother, but because she was now his wife. He wanted her to speak up for the things she desired. Despite his bluster, Aidan’s heart was softening toward her... and he scarce hid the desire from his gaze or the twitch of his shaft when he thought of her lying naked in his bed.

“’Tis true,” she confessed, and nodded.

Aidan turned once again to examine the maid. The woman looked far more like a
Sassenach
than any lass he had ever known. Just the sight of her gave him heartburn.

Rogan persisted. “I fear if I take her with me, ye will subject the lass to the discipline of her father for having failed at her duties.”

Aveline looked a bit like a terrified, abused puppy in that instant, Aidan thought. He truly did not consider her a threat. “Verra well. Stay,” he relented. “But you’d best apply yourself to the duties you were assigned.”

Her eyes were wide. “R-right n-now?” she asked, and looked a little bit as though she might swoon.

Aidan gave a growl of displeasure and turned away. He could not stomach weak women. He was aware that the lass ran to her mistress straight away. He cursed beneath his breath, but with that settled, he could not see the Scots gone soon enough, while all his kinsmen were still in one piece.

All four armed men mounted quickly, but the priest seemed to stumble over the hem of his stupid gown. His crucifix caught in the horse’s reins, and Aidan could scarce take it any longer. He closed the distance between them and in one swift movement, without asking permission, or even hesitating over the man’s weight, he plucked the offending prelate off the ground and sat him atop his mount. The priest shrieked like a woman.

“T-thank you, my lord!” he said, looking down at him, squirming uncomfortably in his saddle.

“Aidan!” he roared back at the man. “
Dia leat!”

“W-what?” the priest stammered.

“I said go with God, ye lout! And do so quickly before I change my mind and whittle your bones down to pick my teeth!”

The man’s face blanched, turning nearly as white as Una’s hair. He found his nerve in that instant, or mayhap he lost it entirely, for he spurred his mount and headed toward the mountain pass before his companions could take their reins.

“I’m certain we shall see ye again as my nephew is certain to follow,” Rogan said, and he lingered a moment even after his men had ridden after the retreating priest. His gray gelding danced impatiently beneath him, clearly confused by the signals his master gave him. His gaze sought Lìli’s then, and Aidan was certain he read in them a warning. “I shall give Kellen your best,” he said to her.

Lìli nodded. “Please…”

And then he rode away, leaving Lìli staring after him, her body language unreadable though her eyes revealed far more than she realized.

F
ortunately, aside from the injury to Keane’s head, there were no major wounds for him to mend from. Even the wound on his head, with all the swelling and bruising, looked far more hideous than it truly was. The fall into the water had kept him from breaking any bones. If it weren’t for the smack to his head on the rocks on the way down, he might have walked away with naught but a grin as his reward for having braved the falls. Thus, he mended quickly, and for that Lìli was thankful. He was a terrible patient, unable to remain abed for more than a day. His boyish head was filled with thoughts of “Meara, Meara, Meara!” The lad was certain the girl would consider him heroic now that he had “conquered death.”

Lìli merely shook her head, smiling at his impertinence, for behind all his shocking declarations and his defiant manner, he was still a boy at heart, not so much unlike Kellen. At least to some degree, she was able to ease her terrible longing for her son by caring for Aidan’s little brother.

Judging by his first rude words to her—offering to show her where to piss—Lìli might have thought Keane would remain as recalcitrant as his sister Lael, but the boy seemed hungry for a motherly figure in his life, and from the instant he’d opened his eyes and understood that Lìli had been the one to heal his wounds, his gaze had softened toward her. Though he rarely held his tongue, he certainly did not use it to spit vitriol any longer.

Of course, neither did Lael. She was a prideful woman, who would never settle easily with Lìli. But Lìli would not force her to do so, for in the end, if Lìli could not find a way to disembroil herself from this political mess, Lael would be justified in all her thoughts of Lìli. And in truth, that was one reason Lìli also did not attempt to wrest the care of Aidan’s home from his sister, for as the lady of Dubhtolargg, she should be expected to manage the running of Aidan’s household. It was no different at Keppenach or her father’s keep. A woman’s place was as chatelaine, no matter whether the keys she held were for a small pantry in a tiny cottage or a stone fortress the likes of which Maud of Huntingdon kept as David’s wife. Of course, Lìli had never been a guest of Scotia’s king, but she didn’t need to see their massive holdings to know how much power the man had seized for himself. He had King Henry of England’s ear, and he was Earl of Huntingdon through his wife, and with that title, he had assumed control of Cumberland and Westmorland, Northumberland, and overlordship of the bishopric of Durham. Upon his brother Edgar’s death, he then inherited all of the lands of Southern Scotland and thus crowned himself as King of the South while his brother Alasdair had claimed kingship of the North. Now that Alasdair was dead as well, David would not rest until all of Scotia was under his rule. But the Highlands would never easily bow to a king whose history lay in an English court. The husband fate had given Lìli was no man to trifle with either... but he was just a single chieftain... one that remained isolated from the rest of the Highlanders. She could not seem to find a way to remove herself from the shackles of her duties. She was trapped, for the sake of her son... and Aidan was doomed regardless.