Tempting the Highlander (3 page)

“My nephew, Cyric, is on his way north and will be here either tomorrow or the day after.”

“You have little time then,” Conor finally said, impassively stating facts they both knew.

“Then you agree with my plan.”

Conor pulled out a chair and sat down with a noncommittal shrug. “I find it hard to comment. You are meddling in people’s lives.”

Schellden shook his head, but continued his gaze at the stable doors. “Not meddling.”

“Influencing then.”

“But for a good purpose.”

Conor shifted in his chair and stretched out his legs. “Only if it all turns out as you hope.”

Schellden finally turned around to lock eyes with the one man who knew the details of the plan and the reasons behind them. “But do you think it is possible?”

“Possible?” Conor repeated, crossing his arms behind his head. “Aye, your plan is
possible
. But is it probable? You are one of the best strategists I know, Schellden, but this is no battlefield. We are talking about people and two of them are my brothers. Both happen to be quite perceptive to being manipulated.”

“And your wife?”

Conor threw his head back and laughed. “Aye, Laurel could be a challenge. I have no idea how she will respond to this plan of yours but I know that she
will
react in some unpredictable way.”

“But will she cooperate?”

Conor stopped laughing as his face took on a look of total incredulity. “Cooperate. No. But I doubt she will be able to keep herself from participating. Best not to tell her anything. If I explain your plan and she thinks you are right, she will most likely support your cause. If she thinks you are wrong, then . . . well
. . .
But your biggest problem isn’t Laurel. It’s my brothers.”

Schellden looked back at the stables. All four were still in there and if the couples were engaged in what they had been doing when he spied them sneaking inside, he had hope. Never did he believe he would wish his daughters to be caught in such a shameful way, but in truth, it made things easier. Especially, as Schellden knew deep down neither Craig nor Crevan would ever do anything to compromise the two people he loved most in the world. “Do you think your brothers will do as I ask?”

Conor pulled back his legs and leaned forward so that his elbows were on his knees. He clasped his hands. “I cannot say,” he answered, his tone turning serious. “I will not interfere with your plans, old friend, for I know you only seek the best welfare for all involved as well as the future for your clan and these Highlands, but do not ask me to be a part of your schemes. I cannot. My brothers have been men for some time. They can make up their own minds and both you
and they
will have to live with the consequences of today’s decisions.”

Schellden grimaced and after one last look, he walked over to the table, picked up his mug and downed the last of his ale. “That I know all too well. But it has to be done. In the end, the choice to act will remain theirs,” he said with assurance.

Conor raised a single brow. “Does that claim include your daughters?”

Schellden’s jaw tightened. “I have protected them too much, as evidenced last month when both turned down the last marriage proposal so publicly and in such a way not a man in two hundred miles would ask for their hand in the next ten years.”

“I think that was their goal.”

Schellden banged his empty mug on the table. “Mac-Dougal’s boy was nice!”

Conor shook his head. “A good soldier perhaps, but admit it, even you found him boring.” Then, realizing that he was transgressing from a listening friend to an advising one, he threw up his hands in the air and resettled himself against the back of the chair. “But what do I know? When it comes to a sword, I’ll have an opinion, but not regarding relationships or people. I’ll leave that to you and my wife.”

“Well, then I best confront them immediately. Your brothers could have given me no better opportunity than the one I have now.” Schellden waited for a second and seeing that Conor had no intentions of rising and coming with him, Schellden marched to the exit and grabbed the handle. Just before he opened the door, he paused and said, “I know your position on the matter, but can I expect you to be here when I return?”

An enormous grin took over Conor’s face. “Aye. Wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

Schellden examined the four bodies sprawled in the hay of one of the larger stalls. None of them had heard his entry, enabling him to watch the singular commotion without notice. A giggling Raelynd was dancing all around Craig as both were attempting to tackle the other, while his other daughter, Meriel, rolled around in the hay with Crevan engaged in a similar leisure interest. He had expected them to be actively engaged—had even hoped to find them with lips locked—but a hay fight? That was something he had not anticipated. Worse, the
lack
of impropriety was going to make his plan all the more difficult to execute.

Raelynd swung around Craig, who unceremoniously tossed her onto a mound of hay before flopping down beside her. She was about to stand up and attack again, when she froze. “Papa,” she spurted, spitting out a piece of straw. “What are you doing here?”

Schellden crossed his arms and stared down at Raelynd and then Meriel, hoping his expression conveyed severe unhappiness. His daughters’ eyes darted everywhere but his gaze. Both McTiernays, now aware of his presence, did not feel similar shame and rose to their feet, looking at him with a bemused mixture of feigned innocence.

Craig and Crevan McTiernay had trained under Schellden as young men several years ago. They had fought with him and his late commander last year at Bannockburn, the hard-won battle that resulted in deep losses. Earlier in the year, the brothers had agreed to assist him in guiding and training new recruits until a new commander could be decided upon.

Fraternal twins, Craig and Crevan McTiernay possessed similar features, but in personality they were unmistakable individuals. An exceptional soldier, Craig’s booming and decisive voice grabbed the men’s attention and held it. Soldiers listened to him, respected him, and followed his lead without question. But off the field, his wit, quick mind, and merry disposition typically made him the entertainment for any gathering.

Though just as commanding on the battlefield, Crevan interacted with those around him quite differently. Possessing an introspective personality, most believed his quiet demeanor due to his halted speech. But after years of knowing him, Schellden knew such assumptions were shortsighted and unwise. Crevan had accepted who he was long ago and his style of command did not reflect insecurity, but thought, consideration, and firm resolve. With one exception—Raelynd.

With her, Crevan was discomposed . . . though he never let anyone see it. Raelynd was his opposite. She was vivacious and strong minded, but she too often walked without aim. That is unless angered by Crevan. Then she possessed unusual focus and determination.

Schellden finally captured the mortified gazes of his daughters. “Both of you return to your rooms until I call for you.”

Then, without pause, he turned to face Crevan and Craig. Two pairs of bright blue eyes returned his stare without qualm. Both men knew they had been caught in a potentially compromising situation, and yet neither spoke a word of apology. The McTiernay brothers were known throughout the Highlands for their ability to outthink their opponents and for their incredible obstinacy.

I can be stubborn too
, Schellden reasoned to himself.
I have to be.

After looking both men in their eyes, Schellden inhaled deeply and said, “Follow me. We have things to discuss.”

Crevan glanced at his brother, who mirrored his grimace, and then pivoted to follow Schellden out of the stables and across the bailey. With each step, Crevan replayed the actions of the last half hour against what he knew of his neighbor.

Rae Schellden loved his daughters. Too much in many ways, and Crevan had told him so on several occasions when Schellden refused to address Raelynd’s officious conduct with the servants. She and her sister were the man’s most precious gifts and since his wife passed away nine years ago, he had become even more protective and indulgent. The close bond between their two clans would have mattered little to Schellden if either Crevan or Craig had done anything wrong, but both women were still innocent and that was clear. Whatever Schellden had in mind, Crevan had no compulsion to capitulate based on what happened in the stables.

Schellden shoved his hands against the large doors of the Great Hall and they swung open. The place was empty with one exception. Crevan nodded at his eldest brother, who was sitting relaxed in a chair across the room. Schellden moved to the chair next to Conor, but stopped before sitting. Crevan and Craig followed him inside, but did not join him at the table.

Schellden’s jaw tightened with resolve. “When you leave this room, I intend to announce a double engagement. Raelynd will join with Craig and Crevan is to be with Meriel.”

Crevan said nothing. Schellden was laird of one of the most powerful clans in the Highlands and he was accustomed to getting what he wanted. Countless times Crevan had seen him masterfully wield people, bending them to his decisions. Today, however, would not be one of those times. Not on the topic of marriage. The last thing he or his brother would be when they left Schellden lands in the morning was engaged—to anyone.

Crevan glanced at Conor, who just shrugged his shoulders and said, “You are both grown men. You can make your own decisions and need no input or approval from me.”

Shifting his gaze from his brother to Schellden, Crevan asked, “W-w-what is the true motivation behind this impromptu marriage decree? W-w-why do both your daughters need to suddenly be engaged and to us?”

Schellden’s hazel eyes soberly returned the royal blue stare and with a serious tone that reeked of foreboding, replied, “Cyric is due to arrive tomorrow and he is not coming for a visit.”

Crevan held the stare and after several seconds, exhaled the deep breath he had been holding. “So King Robert w-w-was being sincere last summer.”

Craig swung around to glare at his brother. “Just what happened last summer and
who is Cyric
?”

“Cyric is my nephew,” Schellden explained calmly, and yet the weight of his words conveyed that Cyric was much more than a nephew—he was a burden. “My only nephew and King Robert intends for him to be the next Schellden laird upon my death.”

“But why?” Craig asked, mystified. “Why would the king desire an outsider to oversee one of his largest and wealthiest clans?”

“Because the Schellden army is just that—large and critical to the king’s future needs.
And
he doesn’t consider Cyric an outsider. Though he was raised by his mother in the Lowlands, he is my brother’s son and therefore a Schellden and a Highlander by birth. The king thought it time to ensure the unity of this clan, and he is achieving that end with the only male heir. And in that, he is right.”

Crevan moved over to the table and leaned back against its edge. “Remember Ian Lainge?” He directed the reminder to Craig, whose face suddenly transformed with understanding.

Just before the Battle of Bannockburn, Ian, laird of one of the larger Lainge clans and armies, died unexpectedly with no presumptive male heir. His three daughters had quickly married into other clans for reasons of security and the Lainge lands ended up being divided amongst their new husbands. The split killed the strength, numbers, and leadership of the once strong and deadly Lainge army.

With Schellden’s twin daughters unmarried and no definitive heir, the Schellden clan was similarly vulnerable. All knew Robert I’s desire to free Ireland from English rule, which meant more battles lay ahead. And while the king had not yet called upon the McTiernay or Schellden clans for support, it would eventually happen and the new ruler expected all of his clans and their armies to remain strong. That included securing their futures. And since neither Raelynd nor Meriel had found a man worthy for marriage, the king had selected one for them. Their cousin.

“Cyric is not the solution,” Crevan replied quietly. He had met the man briefly while visiting court after the successful spurning of the English from Scotland’s soil. Looking at him, no one could doubt that Cyric had Schellden blood in his veins, but his height and build were the only Highlander traits he possessed.

Schellden sighed and nodded in agreement. His younger brother, Abhainn, had left years ago to fight for Scotland’s freedom and soon afterward had met and fallen in love with a wealthy Lowland noblewoman. But his desire to follow Robert I on his campaigns caused Abhainn to be absent during much of his son’s childhood. Upon his return, Abhainn had found the lad weak and pampered due to excessive coddling by his mother. Shamed, Abhainn had avoided his son, only exacerbating the boy’s sensitive temperament—something Schellden had personally witnessed. “I have met Cyric briefly on several occasions, and while he is not unintelligent, he is soft.”

“The w-word you w-want is pathetic,” Crevan mumbled under his breath, remembering his one encounter with the man. Robert I had gathered members of key clans together and Cyric had been included. Many Highlanders had wondered why since Cyric had never taken a step onto a battlefield. Crevan had the misfortune of sitting near him and had endured several hours of hearing the man complain and whine about everything from his uncomfortable, cramped accommodations to the coolness of the weather. The idea of such a useless person becoming his neighbor sent a shiver down Crevan’s spine.

Schellden grimaced, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Crevan’s assessment. “Cyric intends to marry one of my daughters. All know that whoever marries Raelynd will be the next Schellden laird, but if she refuses and Cyric instead marries Meriel, he will have an excellent argument for inheriting my title, even if Raelynd eventually does wed.”

“Neither of them seems very w-w-worried about the possibility,” Crevan surmised. “I assume that is because they don’t know about Cyric’s impending arrival.”