The Wedding (42 page)

“I'm just bone weary like you are,” he answered.

“You're also just as covered with dirt and dried blood as I am. God only knows what we smell like. As soon as I see to my horse, I'm going to the lake. I assume you'll do the same.”

“Is there a particular woman you want to impress?”

“Several come to mind, but I was considering how your wife will react to seeing you, Laird. She's bound to run the other way.”

Quinlan caught Connor's attention then, for though it was customary to wait for his laird in front of the keep, his friend had altered his routine and was now waiting for his laird in front of the stables. The expression on Quinlan's face was one Connor had never seen before, and had he not known better, he would have thought his friend looked relieved to see him.

Crispin had the very same thought. “Whatever the problem was, it must have been exasperating.”

Quinlan waited until they dismounted before coming forward. “All's well, Connor.”

“I expected it would be.”

“From the look on your face, I thought something was surely amiss,” Crispin remarked. “You look relieved to see us.”

“Relieved? If I were not a man, I swear I would be overcome with joy.”

“Then there was a problem?” Crispin asked.

“I've just informed our laird there were no problems. There were, however, minor frustrating inconveniences,” Quinlan added before once again addressing his laird. “Connor, I swear to God, I'm never going to get married.”

“I take it, then, my wife was the cause of these inconveniences?”

“Your wife could never cause an inconvenience,” he managed to say without laughing, which Quinlan personally felt had to be a rather amazing feat.

Davis and another younger soldier came outside to take the horses. The stablemaster waited until his assistant had greeted his laird and gone back inside before he took his turn.

“It's good to have you home, Laird. Your black is inside his stall, should you be wondering.”

“I assumed he would be,” he answered, puzzled that the old man wanted to tell him where his horse was.

“Well, now, I quit assuming that over a week ago,” he said.

“Did he give you any trouble while I was gone?”

“No, he didn't, Laird, and he sure as certain didn't look me right in the eye and lie to me either.”

Before Connor could ask him to explain, Quinlan grabbed hold of Davis's plaid and shook him. “Your mistress didn't lie. She smiled at you. Recognize the difference.”

The stablemaster nodded agreement before Quinlan released him, then bowed to his laird and hurried back inside.

“What was that all about?” Crispin asked. “Has Davis gone addled?”

“They have all gone addled,” Quinlan replied. “I, however, am a much better man and didn't have any trouble at all figuring out what her game was.”

Crispin was trying hard not to laugh. “Are you referring to our laird's wife?”

“I am. She is alive and well, however.”

“I sure as hell hope so,” Connor interjected.

Crispin lost his battle and burst into laughter.

Quinlan didn't appreciate his friend's behavior. “Laugh all you want now. Just remember, mi'lady didn't kill herself while I was on watch.”

Assuming his friend was exaggerating the problems Brenna had caused, Connor shook his head to let Quinlan know he wasn't in the mood to hear about it now and started up the path toward the keep. He seemed compelled to see Brenna for a moment, just to make certain she was all right before he rode to the lake.

“I'm not interested in the paltry problems a mere woman might cause you,” he remarked. “Have you anything more significant to tell me?”

“No,” Quinlan answered. “As I said before, I handled the inconveniences.”

“I'm curious to hear what made our friend whine like a female,” Crispin remarked. “You may tell me everything, Quinlan, if it will make you feel better.”

Quinlan chuckled. “Mi'lady asked me not to tell her husband, and if I can't tell him, I certainly can't tell you.”

“What exactly doesn't my wife want me to hear?”

“Her surprises. She has several waiting for you and doesn't want me to ruin them. Those were her instructions, by the way, but if you insist . . .”

“No, I'll let her tell me. I'm not going to like the surprises, though, am I?”

“Perhaps,” was all Quinlan would allow.

“Where is she now?”

“She's measuring.”

“Meaning?”

“Father Sinclair's here for the day. Your wife requested his presence so that he could approve her dimensions for the chapel.”

Connor didn't say a word for a long minute. “Where exactly is she measuring?”

Quinlan smiled as he told him. “In the courtyard.”

“You're jesting.”

“I'm not. She wants to put the chapel up against the keep.”

Both Connor and Crispin looked incredulous. Quinlan found their reaction immensely satisfying. They were both finally beginning to understand what he had been up against.

“You put a stop to it, didn't you?” Connor asked.

“Of course. Just as soon as I found out what she was doing, I told her she had to wait and get permission from you. I would mention one other matter. I threatened to lock her in her chamber.”

“Because of the chapel,” Connor said with a nod.

“Actually, no, it was another matter that caused me to use such a threat.”

“How did our mistress react to your warning?” Crispin asked.

“She knew I was bluffing. She misses our laird, by the way, so much so, she is easily startled. The least little sound makes her jump. She isn't eating much either. I was so concerned, I took her to Lady Kincaid. She assured me Lady Brenna was all right. She must have been correct because as soon as Sinclair arrived, she went to confession and seems much happier now. I told her word had reached us that you would be home by nightfall, and she was extremely pleased with the news.”

“Did Jamie remove her stitches for her?”

“No, your wife took care of it on her own.”

Connor nodded before changing the subject. “I noticed you put Ewan back on the wall. He was happy to alternate the duty with another so that he could work on his fighting skills,” he reminded Quinlan.

“I had good reason.”

“And that was?”

“I trusted Ewan not to be swayed by your wife. She wanted to go to the lake.”

“But you didn't let her.”

“No, I didn't.”

“And she tried to go anyway?” Crispin asked. “Is that why you threatened to lock her away?”

Quinlan sighed. “No, that wasn't it.”

“Then what . . .” Connor lost his train of thought as soon as he reached the top of the path and saw his courtyard.

There were deep holes everywhere. He was so stunned by the desecration of his land his temper ignited. Unfortunately, the woman responsible was directly across the yard. His wife. The longer he stood there staring at her, the more his throat began to throb with the need to let out a roar. Thankfully, he was able to suppress it by clenching his jaw tight and staring up at the sky.

She didn't realize her husband was there, as her back was turned to him and she was a fair distance away. Two soldiers were leaning against the wall, watching her pace. They stood at attention the second they spotted their laird.

They looked relieved to see him. Connor fully understood why.

The muscle in his jaw was beginning to ache. God help him, the longer he looked at the holes in the ground, the more infuriated he became. She didn't move for a second or two, then whirled around. She had a dagger in her hand.

She didn't scream, but from the look on her face he knew she was about to. He was taken aback by the fear he saw in her eyes. Yet as soon as she realized he was watching her, she let out a cry of joy, dropped her dagger, and came running to him.

“I told you she was acting peculiar,” Quinlan remarked.

Connor nodded but kept silent as he watched his wife skirt her way around the obstacle course. He expected her to stop as soon as she reached him and was therefore surprised when she threw herself into his arms and kissed the side of his neck.

It was improper behavior, as others were watching them, yet Connor couldn't make himself care. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him, feeling very like a man whose wish had finally been granted.

“I'm so happy to have you home at last,” she whispered against his ear.

He gave her a squeeze and then let go of her. She continued to hold on to him for several more seconds before she could make herself step back.

“I have much to tell you.”

“It seems you do,” he agreed. “You will explain everything this evening. Go and wash your face now. It's covered with my dirt.”

Quinlan and Crispin both watched their laird with curiosity. Connor's voice sounded strained, yet calm. He was keeping his anger hidden from his wife, and Quinlan thought that was admirable of him. Crispin knew better. His laird was simply saving his temper to take out on his weapon later when he trained with his soldiers.

“Where are you going now?” she asked.

“To the lake.”

“I could go with you.”

“No, you couldn't.”

“But I . . .”

“Others will be there, Brenna.”

“Could you please come with me inside for just a few minutes. I have a surprise for you in the great hall.”

“Can't it wait?”

“I suppose it could.”

He waited for her to leave. She waited for him to reconsider.

“I wonder how long you will be busy.”

He wondered how long he could hide his temper from her. “Until tonight.”

“Connor, are you happy to see me?”

“Yes.”

His frown suggested just the opposite. She bowed to him before she started back across the courtyard. “If it's dark when you come back, be careful. The ground is full of holes.”

“I noticed,” he called back.

All three maintained their silence until Lady Brenna had turned the corner on her way to the kitchens.

“She remembered to pick up her dagger,” Crispin remarked.

“She never forgets her knife and is constantly checking to make certain she has it with her. She still forgets everything else, though. You're to be commended, Connor,” he added. “You didn't lose your temper.”

“This isn't amusing, Quinlan. There are over twenty deep holes in my courtyard. Have them filled at once.”

After giving his order, he and Crispin returned to the stables to get fresh horses. Connor hoped he could get over his anger before he saw his wife again. He didn't want to upset her, which he thought was damned considerate given that the demented woman was trying to squeeze a chapel up against his keep.

“She wanted to please me. I must keep that in mind every time the word chapel is spoken in my presence.”

“Laird?” Quinlan called out. “Could you spare a moment of your time to speak to Father Sinclair before he returns to the Kincaids?”

Connor motioned to the priest to join him. He spoke before Sinclair had a chance. “Do you know why my wife's afraid?”

“I cannot say.”

“I was told she's been acting peculiar and that after she spoke to you, she was happy again. Did she confide in you?”

Once again the priest gave him an unsatisfactory answer. “I cannot say, Laird.”

“Did she go to confession?”

“Yes.”

“Did she tell you what was bothering her during confession?”

“If she did, I couldn't admit it because that would be breaking my solemn promise never to acknowledge anything said during confession.”

Connor nodded acceptance and didn't try to press Sinclair again.

“What did you want to speak to me about?”

“I wanted to thank you for allowing me to stay here. I won't be a bother,” he promised, “and really shouldn't be here all that often. It's my duty to serve a wide area.”

“You should give your appreciation to my wife, Father. She is the one who pleaded for you.”

“I have already thanked her. I will forever be in her debt. She wishes me to sleep in one of the chambers inside your home, and while I appreciate her thoughtfulness, I feel I should have my own accommodations in the event any of your followers should need to speak to me in private. Is this agreeable with you?”

“It is,” Connor answered. “I'll have one of the vacant cottages cleaned and readied for you. When will you be joining us?”

“As soon as Laird Kincaid grants me permission to leave. I would also mention one other matter. I return to England in a few days to explain this change to my superior. I shouldn't be away more than a week.”

“I will have soldiers escort you,” Connor said.

“That isn't necessary, Laird; for as long as I wear the black cassock, no one would dare harm me, even those whose souls have already been promised to Satan.”

“Wild animals won't show you such consideration.”

“I will stay to the main path,” the priest insisted.

“As you wish.”

“Was there any news you wished to send back to England?”

Connor shook his head and waited until Sinclair had left before he continued on. His thoughts were on his wife, of course. She had been very kind to the priest and was certainly concerned about the man's pride and his feelings. One day soon, Connor hoped she would learn to show him the same consideration.