Page 64 of Claimed Highland Brides

19

ANTICLIMACTIC

I n the end, it was agreed that Aileen would stay at Braenaird Castle to prepare for the wedding with the help of her sisters while Barclay and his cousin would remove to Inchcree.

“D’ye need to borrow my men to help ye?” Daividh asked as Barclay made preparations to leave.

Barclay smiled at him appreciatively. “Ye have gone further than any brother-in-law might expect with yer help. But allow me to call upon ye if I do indeed need help. I expect that I will need yer women more than yer men to help me clean up the castle but let me make do with the staff on-site for now. I need to ken wha’ they can do.”

Daividh nodded. “Aye. In any case, I shall send Maisie and Fenella doon to help ye wi’ the wedding preparations in a few days.” He lifted his hands to stop Barclay’s anticipated protest. “They have insisted.”

“Actually, I was going to say that seeing as yer dear wife has been confined to her bed, and our other sister-in-law is also quite advanced in her pregnancy, I thought perhaps to have the ceremony here, to save them the need to travel.”

“That’s kind.”

Barclay nodded. “But, I thank the lassies for their help.” He clapped Daividh on the back. “I’ll be going now.”

“We’ll be seeing ye.”

* * *

Barclay stood outside the doors of Inchcree, buried in memories. He remembered waiting in the doorway as his father carried his mother home. He felt the despair wash over him once again and tried his best to push it away.

“Sir?”

He came back to the present to find a rotund woman standing anxiously in front of him, twisting her hands.

“Aye?”

“W-we’ve prepared a room for ye an’ ye want to see it.” Her voice was low and tentative.

He nodded. “Thank ‘e.”

With that, he took the step that would bring him into the castle. The first thing he noted was that it was less dusty than he’d left it. In fact, if he was not mistaken, a thorough cleaning seemed to have been done.

“Well, I see ye’ve cleaned. That was nice o’ ye,” he told the housekeeper.

“We thought ye might like to come back to a clean hoose.” She fidgeted anxiously. He reached out and squeezed her hand.

“What are ye so fashit aboot?” he asked curiously.

“N-Nothing, sir.”

“Oh, aye? Because ye seem fashit.”

He could see her bosom heaving as her face drained of color. “Sir, I’ve served in this hoose for years, doing for the old laird. I’m a hard worker, sir, and I can cook vera weel. I looked after the old laird’s son too.”

“From what my wife told me of his condition, not vera weel.” He narrowed his eyes at her for added effect.

She shook her head so hard that she dislodged her cape. “We didnae have much t’eat, and what there was, the laird and his guests ate first. We made do.”

A bolt of anger flashed through Barclay at this further evidence of neglect. “Weel that is done the noo. Everybody gets enough to eat, y’hear me?” he growled.

Mrs. Woodward nodded. “Aye, sir. C-Can I show ye to yer chambers the noo?”

Barclay nodded, looking around as he walked, noting how everything had been cleaned and shined.

There may not be as much to do as I thought .

Mrs. Woodward showed him to what had been the master bedroom during his parents’ time. The ornate red velvet canopy was still the same as was the large four-poster bed. Even the bed covers looked familiar.

“I see ye didnae change much while I was gone.”

“He stowed all yer parents’ things in the attic. Once he left, we brought them oot, cleaned them, and used them. We thought ye might appreciate something familiar.”

Barclay felt a lump in his throat. “That was kind o’ ye.”

Mrs. Woodward curtsied. “Shall I send in yer manservant to unpack yer bags?”

He nodded. “Aye, do tha’.”

* * *

Aileen tried on her gown, for once in her life, feeling as if she might just look as pretty as she felt. It was brilliant green lined with gold leaf along the cleavage and at the waist, giving her more body definition than usual. The viridescence of her gown brought out the gold of her skin, making it glow. Her hair fell down her back in a long plait, intertwined with flowers. She wore simple pearl earbobs on her ears and a gold chain around her neck.

She smiled at herself in the looking glass, feeling for the first time that she might be worthy of a husband—of this husband. A knock at the door had her turning in time to face her sister, who was gawking at her.

“ A Dhia ! Ye’re lovely.” Jamesina grinned. “That gown suits ye. Yer happiness suits ye even more.”

Aileen beamed. “Why, thank ‘e.”

Jamesina stepped closer. “I have a message for ye, from Aifric. She asks that ye go to Drumacree and see her before the wedding.”

Aileen’s eyebrows shot up. “The wedding’s in two days!”

“Aye. So ye’d best get going. Wish I could come wi’ ye.”

Aileen sighed, looking down at herself. “Weel, I guess I am as prepared as I’m going to be. So I’d best go now.”

“Perhaps ye can take ùna. I’m sure she’d love to accompany ye.”

Aileen shook her head. “No. I want to be as quick as I can. I’ll take my horse and go alone. It’ll be faster.”

“Och, no. Ye cannae go alone! One o’ the men must accompany ye.”

“It’s only Drumacree!”

Jamesina gave her a look. Aileen sighed in resignation. “Fine. One man. And he better keep up wi’ me. If’n Barclay hears that I went off wi’ a man, ye’ll explain it to him.”

Jamesina laughed. “Better than saying ye went alone.”

* * *

Barclay arrived for the wedding the next day and was greeted at the door by Daividh. “Where is Aileen?”

Daividh shook his head. “She hasnae come back yet.”

Barclay’s brows rose. “Come back? Where did she go?”

Daividh took Barclay’s arm, leading him into the house as he explained to him about Aifric’s message. “The seer summoned her, and she felt compelled to obey.”

Just as Daividh reached out to close the door, the sound of hoofbeats had them pausing and turning around. The guard at the gate shouted in alarm before rushing to open the gates. Daividh and Barclay both reached for their swords, standing back to back, waiting.

A horse galloped into the compound, coming to a stop right in front of the front stairs. His passenger was slumped over, only keeping his seat because he was tied to the horse with a rope.

“Murchadh!” Daividh exclaimed before rushing to help the man. Barclay followed more slowly, a feeling of trepidation growing inside of him. Daividh reached for the man, untying him from his horse and helping lower him to the ground.

“Is he deid?” Barclay asked.

Daividh shook his head slowly. “I feel his breath, faintly.”

“Can ye help him?”

Daividh sat back with a sigh. “Aye, I think so. We have a bigger problem, though.”

“Ye mean who did this to him?” Barclay asked.

Daividh looked up at him, his face bleak as he shook his head. “No. The fact that he accompanied Aileen to Drumacree.”

Barclay’s heart went cold. “I beg yer pardon?”

“Murchadh was Aileen’s escort,” Daividh said as he tried to lift the warrior to his feet. Barclay hurried forward to help.

“We mun’ wake him up then, find out wha’ happened.”

“Aye.”

They hurried him to a bedchamber and laid him out on the bed. Fiona and the housekeeper hurried in with the bag of simples. “We’ll try something simple to wake him up first,” she said, wafting a bag of smelling salts in front of his nose. Murchadh gasped and coughed, his eyes fluttering.

“He’s waking up,” Barclay murmured.

Fiona put a glass in the man’s hand. “Drink,” she ordered.

Instead, Murchadh shot into a sitting position, leaned over the side of the bed, and vomited on the floor.

“Oh, dear.” Fiona murmured.

“Gil…roy,” Murchadh said between gasps of breath.

Daividh leaned down to lend the soldier his ear. “Gilroy, ye said? He did this?”

Murchadh began to fumble in his belt. Finally, he produced a piece of script and passed it to Daividh. The laird gave it to his wife, who read it first to herself, her face paling.

“What is it?” Daividh asked.

Fiona looked up, her face white with horror. “H-He has Aileen.”

“What?” Barclay snatched the script from her hands and read it himself. “No!” he whispered.

Daividh stepped forward and took the script. “Wha’ does he want?”

“He says that if Barclay wants his wife back, he will go and get her, alone.”

Daividh shook his head. “We cannae allow tha’. ’Tis a trap, ye ken.”

“I ken. But I cannae risk her.” He covered his face. “God, she mun’ be so afraid.”

Fiona’s hands began to shake, her eyes wide and scared. Daividh reached out and squeezed her hand. “Dinnae be fashit. We will get her back.”

Daividh turned to Barclay. “Let’s go.”

“Just the two o’ ye?” Fiona exclaimed.

“We’ll go ahead. Send Simon along wi’ a dozen men, just in case.”

Fiona nodded, reaching out to clutch his arm. “Bring her back.”

“I will.” Daividh led the way out.

* * *

“The first thing we should do is to find Aifric,” Daividh said.

“Why? Will she be able to divine where Aileen is?”

Daividh shook his head. “I dinnae ken, but the note we got was apparently sent by her. We mun’ find oot if it truly came from her or from Gilroy.”

“I think ’tis fairly obvious it came from Gilroy.”

“Ye’re no’ thinking. If Gilroy merely intercepted them as they rode to Aifric, it means he had no real plan. If, on the other hand, he wrote the note, then this is an orchestrated grab, and he means something more than just to have ye fashit.”

Barclay took a deep, shaky breath. “Ye’re right. I wasnae thinking. I would like very much to hope that my step-uncle isnae thinking but…” He shook his head.

Daividh nodded. “Aye. It’d be good to ken for sure.”

“We mun’ hurry though because we dinnae ken how much time she has afore he does something to her.”

Daividh spurred his horse into a gallop.

* * *

“Yer wife is close. I dinnae ken where, though. I didnae summon her to me, but I sensed her approach,” Aifric told them.

Barclay and Daividh exchanged glances. “So ye’re saying she’s in Drumacree?” Barclay asked.

Aifric nodded slowly. “Or close.”

“Where has Gilroy MacFarland been seen lately? Anywhere in town?”

“He and his son have eaten at the inn. But I dinnae ken where they’re staying.”

“Thank ‘e, Aifric. If’n ye think o’ anything else, please let us ken.”

“Aye.”

They left her home, resolving to go to the inn and ask the publican if he had any idea of Gilroy’s whereabouts. “Ye ken, he could be watching us,” Barclay said.

“Aye, he may. ’Tis best if he kens ye’re no’ alone.”

“But what if he hurts her?”

Daividh turned to face him. “He isnae going to do tha’. He wants ye, no’ her. If he means to get Inchcree back, ye’re the one he must get rid of.”

“Perhaps all he wants is revenge on me. He can achieve tha’ easily by killing her.”

“Perhaps, but even if he does, he will want ye there…to see.”