Tempting the Highlander (32 page)

Standing at one of the Great Hall windows, she waited patiently as she cradled her youngest child on her hip. Neither she nor Bonny liked it when she was away from the castle visiting and it took several days before the little girl was willing to be away from her mother’s side when she returned.

Soft wavy brunette curls lifted from Laurel’s shoulder as Bonny pointed to the gatehouse. “Look, Mama. Crevan has come back home.”

Laurel smiled and kissed the child on the temple. “That is good news, Bonny.” Then, over her shoulder, she called out, “Come take a look.”

Conor let go a “hrmph” and continued his conversation with his commander, Finn. Rae Schellden joined her. He watched as Crevan marched determinedly toward the Warden’s Tower and disappeared inside. “Finally,” Rae grumbled, but Laurel knew he was relieved.

“You had doubts?” she chuckled.

By the time she had met and confirmed her suspicions with Laird Schellden almost all the pieces were in place with the exception of Cyric. Unknowingly Rowena was the one who corrected that small bump. She had not been part of Rae’s original plan, but a welcomed addition after watching the two bond. He considered her a third daughter and her happiness was of great importance to him.

“Aye,” Rae admitted. “I had not planned for Cyric and Rowena to fall in love. She tends to be overly guarded and I’m afraid too little time has passed to break down the barriers she has placed around her heart. And after last night . . .”

Bonny started to squirm and Laurel let her down. “True, but you heard her when she thought they were alone. Only when you love someone very deeply do you get that angry.”

Rae chuckled. “She will need that spirit in Perth with all the people and pomp and circumstance at court. But I believe she will do well there.”

“Aye,” Laurel agreed. “The queen is not much older than Rowena and I suspect they will get along well.”

Schellden waved a finger toward the Star Tower across the inner yard. “And while it looks like Crevan is coming to his senses, will Raelynd? I hate to admit it, but my daughter has my stubbornness.”

“She also has your ability to correct mistakes before she makes them.”

“Only if she sees them.”

Laurel grinned mischievously and crossed her arms. “Don’t worry about that. I made sure there was someone with them who will point out any mistakes she sees.”

Schellden tilted a single brow and looked at her uncertainly. “Who?”

Laurel’s smile broadened and her eyes danced. “The one person without whom your plan would have never come together. Brenna.”

Brenna lay on her stomach on one of the window benches watching Meriel twist and curl her sister’s hair. It had taken them forever to get dressed and when they finally started doing their hair—what Brenna had been pining to begin for hours—they wouldn’t let her help. She hated being seven. Almost everything being discussed made no sense. But one thing was clear—no one was happy. And after a morning of tears and comments that a year wasn’t so long, Brenna decided that she was never going to get married. It was obvious that the whole event was very painful and she was pretty sure that getting a husband was not worth the misery.

“Brenna, can you bring me that comb?” Meriel asked, pointing to the ivory object just out of Brenna’s reach. The little girl got down and handed over the comb.

“Why is Rowena so mad?” she finally asked, hoping to at least clarify one mystery.

Meriel opened her mouth to refute the assumption, but closed it before she did so. “Raelynd, look at Rowena,” she whispered. “Brenna is right. I thought she was just upset like I was at the situation, but she is not sad, she’s . . . well, like Brenna said, she’s mad.”

Raelynd pivoted in her chair and considered her longtime friend. Rowena was sitting on the settee, knees pulled against her chest, and she was rocking slightly while staring into the fire. Her sister and Brenna were right. Rowena was mad.

Rowena had bathed and done her hair early that morning and Laurel had let her borrow a gold dress that accentuated her dark feminine features. Normally, such a dress and the prospect of a wedding would make her bubble with excitement. But Rowena was far from being even mildly pleased. She so rarely let anything visibly rile her, they had not recognized her anger.

Glad for any excuse to delay getting ready, Raelynd rose to her feet and walked over to her friend. “What is wrong? Last night you arrived and practically begged for a wedding to take place.”

A tear escaped and Rowena quickly brushed it away. “Not this wedding. I did not want you to marry a man you do not love.”

“But I did not love Craig either.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

Brenna went back over to her window seat and flopped back down on her stomach, propped up her elbows and rested her chin on her palms. “Because she loves Cyric like you love Crevan,” she answered.

All three women’s heads snapped to stare openmouthed at the little girl. Meriel was the first to speak. “I promise you, Brenna, my sister does not love your uncle Crevan. They fight all the time.”

Brenna produced an unimpressed shrug. “So do Mama and Papa.”

“
I
was the one who was going to handfast with Crevan,” Meriel explained, thinking that their similar looks had confused the young girl.

A puzzled look took over Brenna’s face and her silver eyes searched Raelynd’s. “That’s what I don’t understand. Why would you do that if
you
love Crevan? And why did he agree?”

Raelynd swallowed. “Whoever I marry will become laird of Meriel’s and my clan. So we did it to ensure the happiness of my sister and your uncle Craig,” she answered, refusing to look at Meriel.

“
My
happiness,” Meriel repeated, mystified as her mind quickly replayed recent conversations. How many times had she rejected Raelynd’s idea that she and Craig join? And she had emotionally forced Raelynd into doing everything she could to keep her from possibly becoming responsible for Caireoch. “Raelynd, you should have said something.”

Raelynd stared at her fingers. “I didn’t even realize I loved Crevan until recently. He only admitted his feelings the night he and Craig left to see Father. When they came back and we all agreed to handfast, what choice did he have? Crevan was not about to steal the only opportunity Craig might have at becoming a laird.”

Meriel started to pace. “Craig doesn’t want to be a laird.”

Raelynd scoffed, unable to comprehend such an absurd idea. “Every man, every soldier desires deep down to be in charge of a clan—especially one as powerful as ours.”

“Not everyone,” Rowena muttered. “Cyric dreads the idea.”

Raelynd jumped off the settee as if it had pinched her. The tight knot already present in her stomach just doubled in size. “I’m confused.”

Brenna giggled.

Meriel stopped her pacing and leveled a glare at the child. “This is not funny, Brenna.”

Unfazed, Brenna tossed her pale gold curls over her shoulder and sat up. “It is to me. No one wants to marry the person they love!” Then her gray eyes turned serious and seemed to instantly age and fill with wisdom. “I’m bored. And
nothing
makes any sense. I’m going to find Mama. Maybe she can tell me why Crevan can’t marry Lyndee when he is
the only one
who wants to be a laird.”

With a childlike growl, she got down, shuffled across the room and left, leaving everyone in the room stunned.

Rowena raised her head and stared at her two friends, her eyes flickering between them. “Did I understand Brenna right?”

“Crevan
wants
to be a laird?” Meriel posed.

Raelynd stared at Rowena. “Cyric loves
you
?”

A tense silence enveloped the room as everyone digested what they had just learned. Assumptions had to be reversed, decisions had to be reconsidered, and most importantly, personal desires that had been suppressed had to be reexamined.

“Why am I just about to handfast with Cyric?” Raelynd finally asked aloud.

Meriel shook her head. “I have no idea.”

Rowena huffed. “Because if you don’t, Cyric will believe he was played a fool. All his life he has worked hard for the respect of his family and he doesn’t believe he can get it any other way.”

Raelynd stood motionless for several seconds. “Do you believe that, Rowena?”

Rowena paused and considered her answer. Spinning around in the settee, she sat up with her back straight and her eyes clear. “No I don’t. And I don’t believe your father does either.”

Raelynd went back to the door and yanked it open, planning to call for Brenna. Instead two little boys fell inside. “Braeden. Gideon. How fortunate to find you here. Do me a favor and go find your mother and my father. You do know him, right? Laird Schellden?”

Dark heads silently bobbed up and down, fearing she was going to make them confess what they had been doing. “Please find them and tell them that there is going to be no wedding this afternoon.”

Braeden was the first to get to his feet. “You mean no one is marrying anyone of you?”

Raelynd nodded. “Aye, that is
exactly
what I mean. We are tired of allowing our lives to be dictated by the desires of everyone else. So until that is understood, we are staying put.”

Gideon’s eyes became huge. “We can’t remember all that.”

“Just remember the part about us refusing to marry. That should be enough,” Raelynd directed, and then gave them both a slight push out into the corridor and closed the door.

“There,” she said, feeling confident and hopeful for the first time in days. “I have been told twice now to never let anyone else determine my future. I think it is time I listened.”

Crevan entered the stairwell to the second floor. The Warden’s Tower was where the soldiers slept, as well as the steward and a few others. Only two rooms in the tower were suitable for guests. He, Craig, and Conan were supposed to be sharing them. Fortunately for Schellden and his nephew, the weather had not turned bitter and all three of them had opted for other sleeping arrangements.

As he took the last step, Crevan considered what he was about to do. He had not planned what he was going to say and he had no idea what reaction to expect from Cyric. Normally, either one of those factors would cause him to refrain from confronting the man, but today, no action was not an option.

As the first pink rays of dawn chased away the night, it had occurred to him he had not said a word. Cyric demanded his rights. Meriel tried to sacrifice herself, Craig had protected her, and Raelynd had offered to save them all. Rae had spoken and even Conor offered his opinion. But he had remained silent.

Never had Crevan felt so inadequate. He had been powerless to do what he wanted and had been ashamed of his weakness. Not until morning arrived did he realize that his feelings of helplessness were within his control. He had given his power away. It had not been taken from him. It was past time to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Never before had he avoided an enemy and Crevan had every intention of facing this one. Today, he was going to stop living his life to please others at the expense of his own happiness.

He was not going to give up Raelynd for another day, let alone a year. If Craig really desired leadership, then he would have to seek another way to attain it. And if his brother did so, then he would also have to learn how to make decisions that did not involve a battle plan and weapons. Though he would never say it aloud, Crevan knew he would be a far better chieftain than his brother. Cyric, on the other hand, was another matter.

Before Crevan left Caireoch, he had spoken to a handful of men whose opinions he trusted and all of them had the same things to say. Cyric was a Lowlander and it was obvious, but he was also smart and brilliant with a sword. They did not know about him as a leader of the clan, but Cyric had proven himself capable of dealing with and gaining the respect of other clan leaders. Would they follow him? None of them could answer the question. But the fact that they didn’t outright refuse said enough. With sufficient time, Crevan suspected they would. After all, Cyric was a Schellden.

But what did Cyric want? What had driven him to confront them last night and demand his rights? Why not a month ago? Pride? A sudden desire for power? And what were his plans once the year was complete?

The only way to learn the answers was to confront the one who had them.

Crevan stopped at the only door that was closed on the second floor and rapped hard three times on the wooden planks. He did not have to wait long before it swung open.

Golden eyes held Crevan’s blue ones for several moments before Cyric stepped back. “Come in.”

Though raised in the Lowlands, Cyric was unmistakably a Highlander. His height was almost that of Crevan’s and his chest was slightly bulkier. His hair and facial structure were nearly identical to Rae’s, but his eyes must have come from his mother’s side. Surprisingly, the golden orbs held not the arrogant countenance of a man who felt victorious.

A deep crease was notched in the space between Cyric’s brows and the set of his shoulders was tight. Stress lines bracketed his mouth. If anything, the man looked like he was preparing to sacrifice himself by assuming a heavy burden.

“W-w-we need to talk.”

Cyric raked his hand through his hair and nodded. He then waved to one of the several folding chairs leaning against the wall as he sat down on one that was already open. “You want me to walk away, but you must know that I cannot do that.”

Crevan grimaced and grabbed the uncomfortable item and popped it open. His grandfather had hated the folding chairs with a passion, stating that sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall was more comfortable. He had been ridiculed commissioning one of the local carpenters to build him several chairs like those he had seen used by royals with arm rests and high back supports. The result was twenty oversized, bulky chairs made from bog wood, which his grandfather placed in the Great Hall.

It was his father’s idea to make them comfortable by padding them. Conor had been the first to steal one from the Great Hall and by the next night three more disappeared. Only then did his father notice the change in the Hall decor. Crevan could still remember his father’s flushed face as he was about to threaten all those who had procured chairs without permission. He was stilled by his mother’s gentle hand upon his arm. His older brothers,