King's Knight [Highland Menage 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 9

  She’d exhausted herself cleaning Duncladach, wanting to make a difference. She did not want to live here but if she must at least it would be close to acceptable. There was a lot she would buy with whatever dowry the king gave her. While she scrubbed and cooked and patched clothes she thought on what she would purchase. Almost all would go in their chamber, for their personal use. Some would go to the kitchen to make her life easier. She would get herself a padded chair, one with arms, a narrow seat, and short legs to suit her perfectly. She’d make sure no MacDougal male would fit in it!

  She found herself with Torquil and Ewan often. Her husbands had warned her not to be upset if they’d have nothing to do with her. She treated Ewan as she had Tommy when he first arrived at Calltuin. The cat had been fearful, knowing little of people other than they were a danger. She’d seduced Tommy by quietly working, making no quick movements. She’d dropped bits of food, a little closer each time. Within weeks he was purring in her lap.

  As Ewan was sensitive and had the Sight she kept as calm as she could around him. It was good practice as Somerled made her steam. She’d finished making berry tarts the first time Ewan approached. She’d offered him one, and suggested Torquil might enjoy one as well. She’d added it would be best if they ate them in the kitchen so the others didn’t know. That got Ewan into the kitchen.

  Once Torquil realized she actually liked him he showed his wry sense of humor. She’d broken out into a laugh at a comment he’d made about Somerled. She’d slapped her hand over her mouth to hold it in, still grinning. After that the three of them were comfortable with each other.

  Torquil often murmured things at the table that made her fight to hide her grins. Some of the brothers picked up on the sarcasm, if they heard it. Somerled insisted that Tearlach and Rory sat beside he and Niall, as they were second in line. She was sure it was done so they didn’t sit next to her. Being merely the servant and kitchen drudge she was relegated to the far end of the table with Ewan and Torquil. She was quite pleased to be there rather than near Somerled’s extensive reach. If he didn’t like what one of his brothers said he smacked them in the back of the head. As he was six foot six his arms reached a fair distance.

  Somerled missed most of Torquil’s humor though Niall did not. He hid it from his twin though his eyes twinkled at her. Somerled ignored her unless he was hollering orders. He had to yell because she’d somehow become rather hard of hearing and rarely acknowledged a thing he said.

  It frustrated him so much he began sending Niall to speak with her. They’d have a good chat, Niall helping her in whatever chore she was doing at the time. He’d asked her to be patient, that none of them were used to having a female near, especially an attractive, intelligent one who laughed and worked hard.

  She decided that though the rest of them enjoyed her company, Somerled thought her a threat as the brothers paid her attention and he was used to having it all himself.

  She’d hinted to Niall that King James might send a wife without notifying Somerled in advance. Niall had looked at her shrewdly and asked if she knew who it might be. She’d insisted she didn’t but then added it was well known the king wished to end all feuds. Niall was thoughtful for a moment before his eyes had crinkled. He’d replied that he hoped the wife chosen for them had Isabel’s sweet spirit.

  When Isabel snorted and said she was not sweet at all but was behaving this way so not to shame her husbands, Niall admitted Somerled needed a woman who could bring his sense of himself down a few sizes. He also needed someone he could trust enough to relax with.

  Finn and Dougal liked to flirt with her, partially to bother her husbands but also to practice, they said. They had many hardworking older brothers and had reacted by playing the fool. She wondered what would happen if they received a personal challenge. She barely kept in her laughter when they informed her they planned to marry a wealthy woman so they could have a life of ease. She would be beautiful, of course, with a magnificent castle and lots of armed men so they could enjoy themselves. She’d chuckled at that while scrubbing the floor.

  She did not go near the chambers used by Somerled and Niall. He’d insisted she clean his chamber first. She’d cleaned it but moved everything around to confuse him. Of course she was apologetic, putting herself down with comments that made Niall bite his lip to stop his smile.

  Niall knew what she was doing but said nothing. She wondered what he was waiting for. Then she remembered the king’s plans, and chuckled to herself. One of these days, hopefully after she left, Somerled would find out what it was like to be on the other side of orders. Isabel hoped whatever woman the king married them to had a shrill voice, a stout frame and strong arms to punch him with, and an evil imagination. Since MacDougals did not harm women, but could bellow like a bull elk in rut, Duncladach’s walls would shake.

  Artair and Zander were sweet, overwhelmed by all those older brothers. She’d love to have them at Calltuin. By now Laird Graham should have returned all the beautiful things he’d taken to Duchray Castle. That meant she could be sandwiched in a giant feather bed by two eager, demanding men.

  Ewan suddenly twitched. His spoon fell into his bowl. Torquil tensed. The others didn’t notice as Somerled was lecturing them on something or other at the far end of the table. Ewan whispered something to Torquil that Isabel couldn’t hear over Somerled’s booming.

  Torquil stood up. He waited until all was silent.

  “A rider has touched MacDougal land,” said Torquil. All the brothers tensed. He held up his hand before one could rise. “He brings news, not war.”

  Ewan gestured for her hand. She placed it palm down on the table. When he touched it with one finger he jerked back. The relief that shows on his face eased her worry. Since he faced her, none saw it.

  “What did ye see?” demanded Somerled.

  “We will miss ye, Lady Isabel Graham,” said Ewan formally.

  “What of my husbands, Tearlach and Rory?”

  “We won’t miss them as much.” Ewan gave her a wink.

  She couldn’t hide her eagerness at leaving. A chorus of complaints filled the room. She believed Niall, Artair, and Zander’s sad looks. Dougal and Finn muttered about going back to lousy food. Somerled grunted.

  “Make sure ye finish yer chores. My chamber needs a cleaning afore ye go.”

  She smiled sweetly at him. “Ye’re looking a mite more choleric than usual, Laird Somerled. Methinks ye dinna like the special food I cooked for ye.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Did ye put sommat in my bowl?”

  “Me?” She showed wide-eyed innocence.

  In the silence all could hear his belly rumbling. He suddenly shoved his chair back and strode from the room. As soon as he cleared the door he began running in the direction of the garderobe. All eyes turned to her. She shrugged.

  “He did say he wanted a special meal made just for him.”

  “What did ye put in it,” asked Niall. He was curious more than upset.

  “’Tis a spring tonic to cleanse the man’s bile. He will have a wee bit of discomfort for a few hours. ’Twill warn him not to treat his wife the same way as he did me.”

  “What wife?” demanded Dougal.

  “’Tis no secret King James wishes the Laird of the MacDougals married.”

  That caused jaws to drop. They heard footsteps on the stairs. Tearlach burst in.

  “A rider approaches.” He looked around the room. “Where’s Somerled?”

  “Well, husband,” she said, meekly. “If the herbs I dropped in his stew are working properly he’ll be in the garderobe for some time. ’Tis a good thing ye cleaned out the cesspit.” She smiled at him, one that showed her true feelings. “That was such a romantic gesture.”

  “Romantic? I didna buy ye a ring or naught!”

  “Any man can send a servant to buy a ring,” she replied. “It takes a real man to clean out a hundred years of mess so his wife will have a sweeter time.”

  His eyes sunk into her with a message th
at made her pussy throb so much she shifted on her hard bench. How could a man tell her she’d soon be screaming her orgasms merely by looking at her?

  “Ye didna poison our laird, did ye wife? I think ye should have, but I ken ’tisna like ye to kill someone.”

  “I gave him a spring tonic to purge him of his ill humors.”

  Tearlach’s shoulders relaxed. “Well then, I guess the herald riding up may have to speak to Niall instead.”

  “Herald Murray approaches?” she asked eagerly.

  “I dinna ken. Someone’s riding toward us, red lion blazing on his gold tabard. Rory’s gone to meet him. They’ll just beat the storm.”

  “They’ll be hungry.” She turned to Niall. “Should ye not send someone to get wine from the cellars?”

  “Artair?”

  “Two bottles, Niall?”

  Somerled’s twin nodded at Artair, who hurried from the hall. “Best if Lady Isabel is dressed more fitting to her station,” said Niall to Tearlach.

  “I’ll not hide how Somerled treated my lady wife,” replied Tearlach. “And no matter what this herald says, Rory and I will be riding out with our wife as soon as the storm passes.”

  “We’re leaving?” She jumped at his nod.

  “Ye deserve better than this, Isabel. We’ll be takin’ ye to Calltuin. I’ll ask the herald if the king will gift it to ye, since ’tis yer home.”

  “What of Duncladach?” she asked, biting her lip.

  “There are enough brothers here. They dinna need me.”

  “And the sea?”

  “I want ye in my arms, and happy.” Tearlach, ignoring the groans from his brothers, strode over to her. He lifted her, wrapping his arms in a hug. “I didna ken all what he was havin’ ye doin’,” he whispered in her ear. “Somerled is my laird and I ken ye said ye wished to do it yerself, but I canna have him treating ye bad. Rory and I said we’d take ye away afore we saw the rider.” He backed off enough to look at her. “If ye wish to go.”

  She dropped her head on his chest. His heart thumped steady but fast.

  “I wish to leave this place and be with ye and Rory. Calltuin would be my choice, but as long as I have the two of ye, I will be content.” She grimaced. “That is, if I have the two of ye without Somerled within a day’s ride.”

  Chapter 13

  “Can ye tell us what was in the sealed orders ye gave my Laird Somerled?” asked Rory of the herald.

  They’d stopped for a break before riding into Calltuin’s valley. He’d held off this long but could not stand it anymore. While Herald Murray’s replacement was young, he was equally shrewd.

  “Your laird has been married by proxy. After I see that all has been returned to Calltuin I will report to the king. I will then escort the lady to Duncladach.”

  “The poor thing,” said Isabel. “There’s not a wee bit of comfort in that castle. I am glad to have cleaned what I could, but there’s a long way to go.”

  “Can ye tell us her name? Or even her clan?” asked Tearlach.

  “Please say the poor woman is strong-minded enough to put up with a big man who things all should bow and kiss his feet,” asked Isabel.

  “Somerled never asked ye to do that!”

  Isabel snorted a laugh at Tearlach’s outrage. “Were ye there when he lectured me on my duties as I knelt on the stone floors, scrubbing?”

  It was Tearlach’s turn to choke. Rory got him a good one in the back before he got away.

  “Nay he didna say that,” she admitted before Tearlach could speak again. “But he believes his way is the only one, and he knows naught of women.” She got that sly look Rory had come to know meant she was very pleased with herself.

  “What did ye do to keep him away?” he asked.

  “I told him I was on my moon time and if he didna wish to see me bleed—”

  “Och, wife, ye didna!” Tearlach’s face was a mask of horror.

  “Aye,” she replied, proud of herself. “It scared him off. He must not have told the others as they still visited. They all helped me pick strawberries to make tarts.” She laughed. “Though it was hard to get them from taking them all when they were cooked.”

  “Those tarts were the best thing our brothers had tasted in many years,” said Tearlach. “Ye won their hearts with that, if naught else.” He reached for her, and was soon lost in a kiss.

  Rory let them. He’d just realized Isabel had not had her woman’s time while they were together. There was a very good chance she was already carrying their babe, conceived on MacDougal land.

  He gulped, the enormity of it hitting him like an arrow to the heart. He mumbled something about wood for the fire as he stumbled off. He could barely see. His heart pounded and his legs wobbled. He sank to his knees, finding himself in the position of prayer.

  “God, please keep her safe. And the babe,” he added.

  He had to choke the words out. Too many women died having a bairn, or soon after. Now he knew why Ewan had pulled him aside before they left and told him to take good care of Isabel. At the time he’d thought it was his sensitive little brother warning him to be careful of the woman they’d all fallen for. Now he realized Ewan must’ve known she was with child.

  He cursed. If they had known Isabel carried a babe they’d not have allowed her to ride a horse and camp on the hard ground. They would have—

  Perhaps that was why Ewan didn’t speak of it. There was no other way to travel. He rubbed his knuckles on his forehead. Isabel’s babe was far safer with her riding a horse surrounded by five trained guards than on her knees scrubbing, or climbing to wash walls, or all the other things she’d done in the last few weeks. If that hadn’t shook the bairn loose, nothing would. No, Isabel didn’t need coddling. MacDougal seed rarely slipped once planted. All being well, she would have their child before spring.

  What she needed, and what he needed, was loving. Not the type that made a babe. He wanted to hold her in the night as she slept. To kiss the top of her head as he walked past, or pat her well-rounded bottom. Yes, he wanted the physical as well, but it wasn’t enough. He didn’t merely want Isabel’s body, he wanted the woman inside it.

  His heart hurt. He pressed his fist against it, thumping it a few times. It didn’t help. He wanted to hold Isabel tight and whisper his love of her. Yes, he loved her with a fierceness that would never fade. Why did it take him realizing she was with child? A child he already loved. Three days ago he would have scoffed at loving something he’d never seen. Yet already his arms ached to hold their babe. He’d enjoyed holding Sam and Mary’s wee son, kissing the top of his head as they rode.

  He couldn’t yet hold Isabel’s babe, but he could hold her, while she carried the wee one. He would hold, and protect, and provide for her and their family.

  He inhaled, a new sense of responsibility settling on his shoulders. God and the king willing, they would live their lives out at Calltuin. He didn’t know how Tearlach would cope. Maybe children would make up for the action he needed to feel of worth.

  He would wait to speak of it. He wished to savor the knowledge, for once knowing something Tearlach did not. No doubt Isabel would realize it soon. If not, Janet would tell her. He discovered he was grinning like a fool. He tried to shake it off but it kept returning.

  He was going to be a father. Not one like his own, who cared for little but himself. And not like Somerled, who cared only for the clan and not the members within it. He would be a husband, a father, a brother, and a farmer.

  And damn good at all of them!

  * * * *

  Exhaustion and relief hit Isabel as they rode into Calltuin valley. Exhaustion from the physically demanding work at Duncladach, the tension at Stirling Castle, and the demands of riding. Relief that she would soon be home. But for how long?

  Having seen the vicious way of life at Stirling Castle and the cold, hard one at Duncladach, she had a much better appreciation of her life growing up here with Janet. They’d made their own way without too much interferen
ce from bull-headed men who thought they knew best about everything. A few weeks with Somerled had given her a taste of a high-handed laird. It was more than enough. Tearlach could be that way now and then but it didn’t last long and she did know he cared about her.

  Somerled cared for nothing but his precious castle and clan.

  Though he’d fight any thought of it, in many ways Somerled was a lot like what was said of his father. Having been ordered to court, Laird Dougal had returned to discover all his older brothers dying, poisoned by enemies. It explained why Somerled refused to go to Stirling Castle, or anywhere off his land. It also suggested why his father created many sons to make the clan strong. Laird Dougal had passed on to Somerled his obsession with keeping Duncladach in MacDougal hands. While the others, herself included, had ranged far, Somerled had not ventured beyond the chapel, and that only when his brothers watched for danger.

  It was the herald who told her all the land presently claimed by Clan Campbell and the southern MacDonalds of Clan Ranald, as well as the isles now held by Clan MacLean, had once belonged to the MacDougals. At least nine castles spread over two hundred and fifty square miles had been reduced to the small area they now held. Though that time was centuries in the past it didn’t matter to Somerled. He hated all Campbells with a vengeance.

  The MacDougal brothers had lived harsh lives, one she did not care to experience. She would soon find out what their laird, and that life, had passed on to Tearlach and Rory. Though they’d been together for weeks they hadn’t had that much time to talk alone. Her husbands were either with others, sleeping, or doing things that still made her blush.

  Isabel tilted her pelvis forward to rub on the saddle. A snicker behind her suggested Rory had noticed. She pulled her bonnet lower, hoping her blush wasn’t seen.

  “Ye’ll have to wait a wee bit afore ye can change mounts.” Rory spoke so quietly she barely heard him. “That bed best be set up in our chamber for I’ve a need to plow yer furrow in it. Thoroughly.”