Kate Robbins - The Highland Chiefs Series 03 (23 page)

It was Freya who broke the kiss and gazed up into his eyes. “You must change before we return below.”

“Aye, I must. Will you assist me?”

She smiled. Now that they were wed, it was her duty to assist him in this way. And something she had never had the pleasure of doing for him in all the time she had known him. To perform a simple duty like it in the past was almost outlandish.

As she reached for the belt keeping his tunic in place, he lifted her chin with his finger.

“You are smiling.” It was almost a question.

“Aye, I suppose I am.”

“And will you tell me why you smile? I have not seen you happy in far too long, Freya. You make my heart soar when you smile.”

That made her smile more. “I was just thinking that performing wifely duties, such as dressing you, is a treat in its ordinary nature. Considering—” She could not finish because her heart ached when she thought about their lost child.

He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “We have been through much, you and I. I believe we can endure anything.”

“Ronan—”

“We will talk about my uncle, Freya. You deserve to know everything from start to finish without interruptions. Then I will accept your judgement. If you wish to sleep in another chamber, I will respect it, but—” His voice cracked and he held her tighter. “Freya, I cannot endure it if you leave me again.”

Freya squeezed her eyes tight at the thought of being separated from him. She could not endure it either. They were bound by an invisible tether that threatened to break them both should it stretch too much.

“Will you promise me that whatever punishment you decide for wronging you, it will not involve us living apart?”

The mist forming in Ronan’s eyes was just about her undoing. She could not bear to unman him. He had such a hold on her entire being that denying him anything was near impossible. She would never and could never leave, but she was not prepared to forgive him without that explanation. So, aye, she could wait until he explained his actions in detail so she could better understand. As hard as it would be to sleep in a different chamber, she would do it.

“I will give you the time you need to explain, and I do understand that it will not be this evening. I am your wife now and nothing either of us can do will change that. Mistakes made in the past will have to be dealt with within the walls of this castle. I will not leave you again.”

He gazed into her eyes and the corners of his mouth lifted making him look younger and giving him a touch of the carefree man he once was.

“You shall have all the time you need to make your decision, Freya. I will do everything I can to show you how much you mean to me, and how much trust you can place in me. I will earn it back.”

She shook her head. “Enough of this talk for tonight. You and I have guests awaiting us below, and if we keep this up we will not see them at all.”

He grinned. “I am certain they can wait for a little while, Lady Sutherland.”

“And I am certain, my husband might just drop from exhaustion if he does not change and get below. Additional exertions are not recommended for you, or me, right now.”

He bent low and kissed her again. “Then help me change, Lady Sutherland. Shall we celebrate our marriage?”

She nodded and smiled. “That we shall, my lord.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ronan stood with his allies and watched the royal procession as it drew closer to his castle. Banners flew high, emblazoned with the lion and the unicorn. By Ronan’s estimate, hundreds of men accompanied the king. Was it a warning, then, of his intent if he did not get his way?

He had proven time and again, he cared more for centralizing authority than the needs of an individual chief. Ronan drew a deep breath and stepped forward as the king approached and stopped a few feet away. Without preamble or ceremony, he dismounted and held out his hands. Ronan stepped forward and allowed the man to embrace him. Would wonders never cease? This was most unexpected.

“Ahh, Sutherland,” he said. “You do not have the look of your father. A fact for which I believe your wife should be grateful.”

Before Ronan could respond, the king moved toward Freya and bent low over her hand, kissing her knuckles in a showy manner. Ronan glanced at Fergus whose brows had nearly met his hairline.

“My lady. You are as stunning a woman as I have ever beheld. Surely the ladies of my court could never stand it if you were to visit.”

Was that a compliment or an insult? Ronan could not be sure, and from Freya’s furrowed brow, it was clear, she had taken it as a ‘you are not welcome’ message.

“Sire,” she said. “Surely, your wife would not take offence to my presence at your court, as surely she is the most beautiful in the land.”

Well done, Freya. Ronan raised his hand to his mouth to hide his smile. The king would probably underestimate many of them during this visit, but one, his wife, would not let him get away with anything without censure.

“Ahh, that she is, my lady.” His smile widened and his expression softened as he beheld her longer. Was the first comment a test then?

A moment later, he dropped her hand and moved to MacIntosh and Fergus for greetings.

Freya glanced toward Ronan. The pink in her cheeks and glint in her eyes told him she was displeased. As discretely as he could, he shook his head at her. For once in her life, he hoped she would bide herself and not let her emotions run away with her. While that was the part of her he loved the most, her passion, this king would not be forgiving and would charge her with treason if he so chose to find offence.

“Come then,” Ronan said. “Let us welcome you, my king, with a feast in your honour and later a melee for our sport.”

“A melee! Splendid. I embrace the opportunity to put my guard up against your Highland warriors.”

So be it. Glancing sideways at Fergus, Ronan noticed the man’s grin. There was no way hired guards could stand up against trained and battle seasoned warriors like those loyal to the Sutherland, MacKay, and MacKenzie clans. But if the king wanted to play, then play they would. Ronan just hoped that he could convince the king to wager the authority debate. It would take some delicacy, however. MacIntosh had conceded to assist, as long as if the king did win, they would all lay down their arms and pledge allegiance.

They moved into the great hall to where a feast as big as any Ronan had ever seen at Dunrobin was laid out. Roasted boar, pheasant, and deer filled several trenchers and the table was filled with enough to feed ten armies.

Ronan and Freya walked to the head table to where they motioned for the king to sit. To his surprise, the king took the seat to the side and insisted Ronan sit at the head and Freya to his right.

“That is your seat, Sutherland. Not mine.”

“Indeed, sire.”

Once they were all seated, the king rose with his goblet. All din in the great hall ceased. “My countrymen, I wish to toast our gracious host.” He turned to Ronan with a grin. “You do your forefathers honour by accepting your title and pledging loyalty to your king like the Sutherlands have done for generations. Although we have had our differences—”

Ronan did not like where this was going. Surely, the man’s memory was not that short that he had forgotten his father’s plot to help MacDonald usurp him.

“I am willing to forgive the past and begin anew with your reinstated title binding you to me and my crown.”

Ronan waited patiently for a chance to speak. He had no intention of interrupting the king, but he would make some additions to the man’s assumptions about their relationship.

The king turned toward the others seated at the table. “I ask you to raise your goblets in honour of our host. May he always seek justice, act with valour, and love with abandon.”

Ronan turned to Freya as the king’s words, followed by his wink in her direction, produced a pinched smile.

When he had raised his goblet to her, and she in return, they drank. Finally, he could speak.

“My king,” Freya said before he could get a chance. “I wonder. Should loyalty be commanded, or do you believe it should be earned?”

Christ’s toes. A little subtlety would surely go a long way. He had to find a way to get her to stop, else his plan would never see the light of day.

“Why, Lady Sutherland, I believe it should be earned.”

“And how would you earn my loyalty?” she asked.

What the devil was she asking him?

“I would pledge it to you on bended knee,” he said.

“Well then, my king, there is no time like the present.”

Before anyone could say another word, Freya rose from her seat. All the men at the table rose as well and the king sauntered around the table to stand before her. To Ronan’s complete surprise, he dropped to his knee and bowed his head in submission.

“I pledge my loyalty to you, Lady Sutherland. And vow to assist you in any way I can should you ever require it.”

Ronan could not wait to get her alone later to find out just what she was up to. He expected her explanation would be very interesting. His loins tightened at the thought of her commanding him in the same way.

Freya placed her hand on his head. “I thank you, Your Majesty.”

With that, the king returned to his seat and acted as though nothing had ever happened. Ronan looked at Freya who still gazed hard at the Stewart. He tried catching her eye, but she was not revealing any of her secrets just yet.

Eventually, after much useless chatter, the king turned back to Ronan. “Tell me about this tourney.”

Ronan grinned. “I believe we shall engage in sport on the morrow, if it pleases Your Highness.”

“It does indeed. What do you propose?”

“Propose?”

“Aye, what shall we wager?”

This was easier than he had imagined.

“Your guards against warriors from our clans. Equal numbers.”

“Aye.”

“We shall joust, and at the end of three days, we will recreate the battle of Bannockburn.

The king’s grin spread wide. “I like the turn of your thoughts, Sutherland. And the winner? What does the winner gain?”

Ronan noticed the king’s gaze flicked toward Freya and back again. His behaviour exorcised any future guilt he had about trapping the man.

“The winner takes all,” Ronan said.

The king’s brows rose and his jaw slacked. He cleared his throat. “All?”

Ronan nodded. “Aye, sire. All.”

The king grinned at Freya and raised his goblet toward her. “Then we have a deal.”

Satisfied, Ronan shifted his attention to every word the king uttered for the next few hours. He talked mostly of insignificant courtly troubles and offered little of his intentions for them. Ronan had hoped the constantly filled goblet would loosen his tongue somewhat so he could glean exactly how the man intended to claim their authority. But he said nothing of it.

At some point, Freya retired and he was grateful she was out of the king’s lascivious line of sight. Hours later still he climbed the steps to their chamber, stripped and slipped beneath the covers to find his bed empty.

* * *

Freya tugged on the bedcovers to no avail. Muren had rolled them around her body in the night and there was no setting them loose unless she woke the lass. Freya flopped onto her back in frustration. The night had ended in disaster and she could see no clear path forward for her and Ronan this time.

He had done it again. The very thing he had said he would never do, he had done it again. The king’s attentions were bad enough, but to have her husband, the man who was supposed to honour and protect her always, offer her up as a prize for the tournament had split her heart wide open. Anyone with eyes could see the king wanted her, and Ronan had all but handed her to him.

Freya rose from the bed, donned her mantle, and moved to sit by the window. The sky had already turned grey in the early morning light, and the mist crawling across the sea mirrored the clawing ache in her chest.

Heavy boots in the hallway just outside Muren’s chamber caught her attention and before she could react, the latch had lifted and the door swung wide. Ronan’s face was flushed and his eyes wild. Dear God, what had happened?

“There you are!”

“Hush, you will wake your sister.” She moved toward him and pushed at his chest until they were in the hallway with the door closed behind them. “What do you want?”

“What do I want? How can you even ask me that? I want my wife in my bed.”

“Before or after you whore me to your king?”

Though the light in the hallway was dim from low burning torches, Ronan’s shock was more than visible. Eyes wide and slack jawed, for a few moments he just stared at her.

Was it possible she had been mistaken in his intent? No. It was not. He would have to be blind to have missed how the king gawked at her all evening, and then to make a statement like he had was either very idiotic, or intentionally cruel. She was not sure which was worse.

“Freya,” he said. “How can you possibly think something like that?” His voice was soft, pleading.

“Ronan, you told him the ‘winner takes all’. Did you not see the look in his eyes as he gazed at me? You practically told him he could bend me over the nearest chair and have his way with me. Your wife!”

He grasped her shoulders and pulled her close. “Freya, I was talking about the very real problem we have with him intending to claim our authority. I would never offer you to anyone. My God, how can you even think that?”

“How? Because you have done it before. You used me as a pawn to glean information from your uncle. So, aye, I know you are capable of it because you have done it before.”

“I begged your forgiveness for that and you have promised me to work toward accepting it. Are you telling me now you are unable to do so?” His words seemed torn from him.

Freya’s chest tightened so much she found it difficult to breathe. Had she thought she could forgive him for his crimes against her regarding his uncle? She thought she could get past it, but perhaps she could not. What then? What if she really could never trust him again? Clearly, if what he said was true, she had leapt to assume the worst from him.

“Ronan, I do not know.” Her chest heaved with her need to draw breath. She could almost see the deep chasm between them widening. After all they had been through, would her mistrust be the final thing driving them apart for good?

To her surprise, he gathered her into his arms and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair.

“I admit, I did notice the king’s attentions on you, Freya. But know this, I would rather offer the man my own heart on a trencher before I would let him, or anyone else for that matter, touch one hair on your head. I promised you I would show you that your trust is not misplaced. I vow that to you again now.” He cupped her face with his hands. Ronan leaned in to brush his lips across hers. “Sweet Freya, you are more precious to me than anything. I will never allow harm or dishonour to come to you.”

“Oh, Ronan, my heart knows yours, but my mind is not so quick to dismiss your actions. The king’s very clear desires combined with your promise had me convinced you were using me all over again.”

“Freya, you have no reason to ever worry about anything like that. Please believe me.”

“I promise you I will give you the benefit of the doubt in the future,” she said, hugging him tighter. Without saying another word, she began walking back to their chamber with her arms linked around him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you make the king pledge loyalty to you? Considering what you’ve just said about his attentions making you uncomfortable, I am surprised you would risk additional contact with him.”

She laughed. “I recalled Fergus recounting how the king had pledged loyalty to Lady MacIntosh upon learning it was her father who had travelled to England as surety for his ransom. I thought that if I could get him to do the same for me, he would be less likely to harm you.”

“Harm me?”

“Aye. Ronan, I know why the king is here. I overheard Fergus talking. You play a dangerous game and I am in complete agreement with you as to why you must play it. But I do not think for one second he will agree to your terms so easily.”

“He has already agreed to the terms of the tournament. MacIntosh has also said he will intervene on our behalf should the king become dissatisfied with the outcome.”