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Authors: Lisa Dawn Wadler

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BOOK: The Draig's Woman
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Chapter 32

“You kenned this.” Ian stood in Claire’s chamber and held out the small infant garment for Hagan’s view. Ian moved closer to the man he called brother. “You kenned about the bairn and yet you said nothing to me!”

“So she told you.”

He placed the clothing gently back into the sewing basket that sat on Claire’s table. His rage centered on Hagan. “How long have you kenned she is with child?”

“Aliana told me the night before Claire and I left. I rode from here believing she would have told you. My parting words to you were harsh due to the child she carries.”

Somehow the small clothing had found its way back to his hand. The feel of the fabric was soft to the touch. “She did nay tell me.”

Ian told the story of their parting and of his inability to find her until it was too late to speak. “I had no idea. If I had . . .” Ian stopped his thoughts; nothing would have changed her leaving. He had been trapped in his deal with Tavis. “I sent her away. She carried my child, and I made her leave. ‘Tis no wonder she will nay look at me, much less accept my touch.”

“Claire and I spoke of this before the attack. She kenned the child made no difference and that either way she had to leave. She thought to save you from the guilt.” Ian felt his face contort with grief as Hagan continued. “Let there be no mistaking my words, kenning the way of things and accepting them are verra different. The lass I claim as cousin is hurt and angry and justly so.”

“Why did you not speak of this to me?” Ian found anger to be better company than pain and guilt. “I have been home for hours. You should have told me. Even before I left, I sat by your bedside. There was ample opportunity to speak with me. I should have been told.”

“Ian, ‘tis not something to be heard from me.”

Neala’s sudden entrance disturbed the conversation.

“Forgive me. I dinna expect you both to be here.”

Ian’s wrath found a new target. “Why dinna you speak of this to me, Neala?” The tiny garment was once again held out to emphasize what was meant. “How dare you nay speak of this to me!”

“I dinna tell you because it was nay mine to tell.”

Ian bellowed his reply. “Would you both stop telling me what was not yours to tell!” Looking at his hand, the small clothing had been crumpled into a ball. With care, he smoothed it and replaced it gently into the basket. “Neala, while it may nay have been yours to tell in the beginning, Claire was injured. I should have been told then.”

“Ian, there are things you dinna ken. I encouraged the child to speak to you, and she held back for many reasons. First, she spent most her time asleep, and then I was asked nay to speak of the bairn. When Claire came back, she was very badly injured.”

“I ken how she was hurt. Was I nay here in this chamber as you cleaned and dressed each of her wounds? Did I nay hold her hand while you stitched it closed? Together we cleaned so much filth and blood from her . . .” Ian’s words faded as the memory of that night made him weak. An ache spread in his chest as he realized she was with child during her ordeal.

“As I was saying, Claire was hurt. When she woke there was pain.” Neala held up her hands to prevent him from interrupting. “There was more than pain from the wounds. There was pain from where the bairn is carried. I dinna ken if she would keep the bairn. There was nothing I could do to aid her, though she begged for help. In truth, I am amazed there is still a child, and ‘tis nothing short of a miracle in my opinion.”

Ian found his mind drifting to the night he held Claire. Her sleep-filled words took on new meaning. Hers was the child she could not protect. Ian glanced at Hagan. “Did you ken this, too?”

“Not until the danger had passed,” Hagan replied. “Aliana dinna wish to upset me with what could nay be prevented. Only as the women judged her healed did I learn of this.”

“Claire is out of danger? Is the child safe?”

“She is doing quite well. I have limited some of her activity and encourage rest. ‘Tis my belief she will carry the child easily.” The words meant little, but Ian knew he could trust the smile on Neala’s face.

“My thanks for your care of her and the bairn.” Relief poured through his heart.

“‘Tis my duty and my pleasure. ‘Tis no secret that I am verra fond of the lass. What is to happen now?” Neala asked. “None of us ken what to expect.”

Ian shook his head at the thought. “Claire says she is leaving on the morrow.” His eyes searched between the two before him. “I told her she and the bairn already have a home.”

“Is that all you said to her?” Hagan asked.

Ian took the opportunity to explain the time alone with Claire, the awkward beginning, what had been said, and how the conversation ended. “She left before I could say anything else. I had hoped to find her here, in her chamber.”

“I once vowed to protect Claire as a member of my family, and ‘tis an oath I take seriously. She deserved better from you. You let her go so you could accept a drink from Dedre? I dinna blame Claire for leaving.”

“Nay, Dedre brought a cup. As I accepted the drink, Claire disappeared. I was stuck listening to Dedre complain about Finella nay taking orders from her. It took me a few moments to end those concerns. Now I need to find Claire.”

Hagan let out a sigh. “So it is true. You plan to accept Lachlan’s offer in the hall tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Ian wondered if Hagan knew where she hid. The rest meant little to him.

“Lachlan intends to offer his daughter to you this eve. From what he has said, there is great confidence you will accept, and even Dedre believes this. The lass has spent the last two moons telling all she will be your wife upon your return.” Hagan waited for Ian to respond.

The immense implication of what Hagan had said washed over him. “I have never discussed this with Lachlan. The man presumes based on a talk we had last year.” The final thought brought clarity and a sense of dread. Ian asked hesitantly, “Does Claire think I am to wed Dedre?”

Neala’s answer was short and to the point. “We all do. Dedre has talked of nothing else since her arrival. That one has done everything she can to let all ken she will rule here. Lachlan more or less confirmed this when he rode in. With nay a word from you, we assumed the Campbell laird and Dedre were correct.”

Hagan stated, “I will nay see my cousin pained by this. Do as you see fit. Claire and I ride in the morning. She simply need state to which lands we ride, Douglas or Campbell.”

“What do you mean which lands? Why would she ride to Campbell lands?” The anger was back in Ian’s voice. He knew that too much had happened in his absence.

“As you can ken, Campbell wants Claire gone, as did Tavis. The reasons may be different, but she is nay welcome with Dedre. The laird sees her skill with the books and has offered her a position in his home. The offer includes safety for her child and mayhap more if Claire approves. He approached me as is proper with this fine offer.”

Spitting out through clenched teeth, Ian asked, “The Campbell made an offer for Claire?”

“A proper one, provided the lass is interested after she recovers from the childbed. ‘Tis obviously better than her living here, as Dedre would make her life a living hell. All here ken that.”

“Claire will nay leave with Lachlan, and I have no intention of marrying Dedre. Those thoughts have long been gone from my mind.”

Too much had gone on in his absence. Ian now understood what had happened in the study with Claire. She had no faith left in any promises he had once given. He directed more poignant questions to Hagan and Neala and discovered all that had been said while he was away. Ian took control of the situation and gave Neala orders to prepare for the night to come. Hagan had to promise to make certain Claire was in the hall for the evening meal. This night would set the course for his future. For the first time in ages, Ian felt the weight of his fate resting in his own hands.

Chapter 33

“I have been looking for the two of you.” Aliana smiled as she found Claire and Cerwyn playing on the grounds behind the keep.

Scooping up Cerwyn, Claire said, “He woke up early from his nap.”

Seeing the tired look in Claire’s eyes, Aliana asked, “Did he prevent you from resting?”

“No, I didn’t feel like lying down.” The last thing she wanted to do was sleep and dream, too afraid her mind would incorporate the earlier confrontation in the study. “Besides, it’s a beautiful afternoon, and I couldn’t think of a better way to spend it.” That was the truth; a final afternoon with the small child she loved was time to be cherished.

Aliana took Cerwyn into her arms. “You, my son, need to be cleaned up and dressed a wee bit finer for the evening meal.”

Claire didn’t miss that Aliana didn’t look her in the eye. “I can help you with that.” She hoped Aliana would take her up on the offer. The thought of being alone was too unpleasant, and busy was better. It kept her mind occupied.

The sound of women yelling disturbed their quiet moment, and the voices were easy to identify. Aliana commented, “It would seem there is trouble in the kitchens. There is much I need to do. Claire, would you mind seeing if you can calm them down? You and Finella have a fine way together. Mayhap you can straighten this out?”

“Of course. Go clean up the little man.”

Aliana offered a small smile. “My thanks, I will see you at the evening meal.”

There was no acknowledgment for the comment as she strode to the kitchens. Claire knew there was no way she would be in the hall tonight. Some things were just too painful to contemplate.

The vision of Dedre and Finella toe to toe in the kitchen was the sight that greeted her. “Is there a problem, Dedre?”

Hostility rolled off the young woman. “Aye, there is a problem. I ordered this one to slaughter a sheep for the evening meal. The laird has returned, and a feast is in order. I would have this night perfect in all ways.”

There was no missing the subtle implication, but Claire was aware of the obvious problems. “By the time you requested such a feast there was probably not enough time to see it done. The sheep are out grazing in the far pastures. For everything to be done, it would easily take a full day. I’m sure this could be arranged for tomorrow’s meal.” She hoped a little reason would end this nonsense. She failed to mention the sheep were off limits for eating, as the wool production was no longer her concern.

“I dinna care for your excuses any more than I care for hers!” Dedre turned back to Finella. “I have spoken with the laird about your lack of respect. You would do well to heed me or you will find yourself with no home!”

Finella’s laughter filled the kitchen, oblivious to the threat Dedre just made. Claire was relieved that Finella only walked away. The laughing certainly had not helped.

“From the smells in this kitchen, it is safe to assume a fine meal is in the works. I’m sure it will be acceptable to Ian. He’s not that fussy about his food.”

“And you would ken this, Claire?” Dedre’s anger was now fully centered on her. “It matters little to me what you believe Ian wants. These matters are nay your concern any longer.”

The anger was written all over Dedre’s features. Claire was hit by the knowledge that she knew. Dedre knew everything. “I was just trying to make your evening easier. The meal is almost done, and everything here is under control. There is no need to threaten Finella.” Peace was the goal along with a quick exit.

“Dinna speak to me of how my kitchens are run. Dinna speak to me of what Ian prefers. Your days have ended here. All this time you sat by my side and played the companion. Did you think I would nay find out? Could you believe I would tolerate such behavior?” Dedre ended the tirade with a parting shot. “I will nay be the wife to look the other way.”

“Dedre, none of this matters now. I’m leaving in the morning, and I won’t be coming back, so let’s just leave it at that.” Claire’s voice held weakness, with any conviction long gone.

“Aye, Claire. You will leave in the morning. Your welcome on these lands is gone. I will rule here, nay you,” Dedre answered with a snarl in her voice.

“Fine, rule away.” Claire caught sight of Finella out of the corner of her eye. “Just rule well. These women work hard and should be treated with respect.” Claire edited out the added thought that if you aren’t going to do any of the work you shouldn’t be so quick to criticize.

Dedre’s face reddened. “How dare you speak to me like this? I will not be told how to run my household by some whore!”

Claire didn’t miss the moment Dedre shifted her body and saw her right hand come up with the intent to slap. Without hesitation, Claire’s left hand shot up to block the intended smack and blocked it with more force than necessary. It caused Dedre to stumble backwards slightly. She grabbed Dedre’s wrist and shifted her thumb between the knuckles, which forced the Lady to bend to counter the discomfort she inflicted.

So many things could have happened at that point: with a twist of the wrist, Dedre could have been thrown to the floor; with a hard snap, the wrist could have been broken or simply held so the opponent was in place for the right hand to retaliate. Claire opted for none of the options as Dedre’s anger transformed to fear. She was surprised at the guilt, and she never wanted to be the type of person who instilled fear, but guilt wasn’t enough to make her let go. She was no one’s punching bag.

“The last person who hit me found his sword buried deep in his chest. Don’t do that again.” She slowly released Dedre’s offending hand. “That was my bad hand, but I guess it still works just fine.” She was somehow not surprised Dedre didn’t appreciate the humor of her statement.

“How dare you! Do you ken who I am?” Dedre shrieked as she stumbled back out of Claire’s reach.

Answering with a small laugh, she replied, “Of course I know who you are. I’ve known too many like you. You have been raised to be exactly who you are, a spoiled woman who wouldn’t know an honest day’s work. You expect everyone to do everything for you because you are presumably better than everyone else because you are pretty and your father has coin, so the rules don’t apply to you.”

The look of shock crossed Dedre’s face as she soaked in the meaning. Quickly regaining her composure, Dedre taunted, “You speak like a woman who has lost all, Claire. Your petty jealousy means nothing to me. Leave on the morrow. I care nay to where you journey as long as it is far away. Warm my father’s bed for all I care. But before you go, you will witness my triumph. This night I become Lady of the Draig clan. This fine keep falls to my care, the wealth here will be at my disposal, my children will be the heirs, and most importantly, Ian shall be mine. Go to your bed alone this night, for I shall nay.”

Now it was Claire’s turn to be shocked. Never would she have believed Dedre could have spoken to her like that. Dedre turned to leave and shouted for Neala to come tend her hair. She offered one final insult. “You will be in the hall this night.”

Claire didn’t bother to give voice to the “go to hell” reply swirling in her mind. There was no point. While she may have been correct in every word she said, it didn’t matter one bit. Dedre had won. Claire could pretend all she wanted; it didn’t change a thing. Dedre would have the only thing Claire ever wanted—Ian. The forbidden thoughts rose to the surface, and she acknowledged the unthinkable. She still loved him. Despite everything that had happened, all those feelings were still there. The scar on her hand had healed, but the pain of loving Ian was still there. That was the hurt that would never leave.

Startled by the gentle hand on her arm, she allowed Finella to guide to her to a stool and drank the offered cup of goat’s milk. Claire could not get enough of the stuff. She listened to the voice without focus on the words. Setting the cup down on the table, she said, “Finella, I’m going to miss you.”

BOOK: The Draig's Woman
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