Page 10 of The Chieftain’s Feud (Chieftain #3)

Jamie’s announcement had every head in the hall turning in his direction. Pleasing though it was to see Buchan dumbfounded, he tucked Eve in close to his side, feeling her quiver through the thickness of his mail shirt. A muscle in Jamie’s cheek lifted, pulling his lips in a sneer as he snorted in derision.

Some would say that the scowl on Buchan’s face made Eve tremble; they would be wrong. The lass who battled a storm to reach her man’s side wouldnae be intimidated by an expression she was bound to have witnessed often and often. However, for Eve’s sake, Jamie was glad to see the McArthur had confiscated the four Buchan men’s weapons, their scabbards hung empty by their sides.

His sneer segued into a smile as he looked down on Eve, on his wife. A fact he preferred to keep to himself for the moment.

“Come lass,” he said, “let’s go beard the lions in their den.”

Still smiling down at her, he found it hard to imagine how he had resisted her for so long. In truth, Eve was naught like Brodwyn, lovelier by far, and better natured. The fates must have been saving her innocent soul until they could get them both in the same place at the same time.

“Come o’er here,” Buchan roared at the top of his lungs, “I’ll wipe that smile off the side o’ yer face, as would any father whose daughter has been abducted by a whore-monger.”

Without missing a step, Jamie’s hand clenched around his sword’s hilt, the only sign of his anger. Yonder stood a man who, although he bellowed out accusations like a bull, had nae true consideration for his daughter, except as a piece of property. A piece that he might have stolen, but didnae abduct.

McArthur was the one who answered Buchan. Without raising his voice, he said, “Mind yer language, there are lasses present, and mine for one isnae impressed.”

Jamie discovered Buchan had nae sense of self-preservation when he countered the McArthur’s warning with, “Why would you care? I dinnae mind o’ you marrying yours. Is that why you let that—” As he turned round to point, Eve’s blue plaid slid off her shoulder, and the only noise was the McArthur leaping to his feet and the other men following suit. Afore Jamie could retrieve her worsted wrap, the surprise they had been saving for everyone but his sister Iseabel was revealed to the whole hall.

For once, Buchan couldnae find words. A miracle, as Jamie could tell he was searching for them by watching the movement of his jaw, up down, up down, but nary a skerrick came out. He wanted to laugh but had taken his life in his hands appearing afore them. The slip of her plaid, revealing the obvious bulge of her belly, had lit another flame in the fire Buchan had burning behind his eyes.

Buchan’s chest seemed to heave itself up out of his belt as if still desperately trying to make his voice heard but was prevented by lack of breath. His sword arm hung limp by his side, fist clenched as if missing the weapon Jamie was certain the McArthur would have confiscated. That was his way. Trouble might come to Cragenlaw’s gate, but he always did what he could to defuse aggression inside his hall.

“Nae more,” commanded the McArthur, a note of intransigence in his words. “I willnae stand for this breach of the hospitality I’ve shown ye by bringing ye inside out of the cauld. Unless ye have a liking for the stables, I’ll thank ye for a little civility toward my guests, of which yer one. Yule is the season of celebration, a time to reflect on the past year and make plans for the next. As far as yer daughter is concerned, it would seem the horse has bolted. I suggest ye join us at the high board and, after the meal, mayhap we can work on a solution.”

It was nae surprise to Jamie that his father voiced his disapproval before Buchan had a chance. Not that he said anything of moment, simply let out a growl.

The McArthur’s nostrils flared, a signal Jamie recognised, and he could tell by the tightening of Eve’s fingers on his arm that she wasn’t unaware. His friend Rob nudged Nhaimeth’s shoulder and they both smiled, listening to their mentor say, “That includes all my guests.”

Eve waited at Jamie’s side as the hall filled with a variety of manservants and maids extending the width of the high board and placing more stools and benches around it. At first she thought everyone, including her father, intended ignoring her, then Iseabel came over, her eyes smiling and spoke to her. “Dinnae worry, the McArthur will sort all this curfuffle out. He’s a dab hand at calming people down.”

“It isnae just because of the bairn. Yer father and mine have been feuding for years and years. I cannae see the McArthur ending it by gi’en them a talking to.” Huffing out a breath, she looked Iseabel in the eye. Was it only because they were so like Jamie’s that she felt she could trust her? “All yon years and I still dinnae ken what the feud is about.”

“Well, I can tell … ye…” her words dragged out as Jamie leant closer to them. “Not the now. They want us to sit up at the board. Besides, Eve, ye’ve hardly had a bite to eat all day, it cannae be guid for ye. Think of the bairn,” he said, all concern.

“I’ve thought of naught but since I discovered I was carrying. The only one I had to rely on was Gillian…” Her breath stuttered in her throat and the two accompanying stopped walking.

Jamie’s face paled, “What’s wrong?”

And she didn’t wonder at it, for small beads of sweat were forming on her upper lip. “My maid, Gillian, was the only one I told where I was going, she wouldnae have given me away willingly. What will they have they done to make her tell?” Surely her father wouldnae hurt the lass … but Hadron, he was a man with nae conscience or compassion. She remembered his ferocious scowl. Her father had been shocked, but Hadron had been incensed as if she had slighted him more than anyone.

Jamie’s arm came around her shoulder. She recognised his touch, his tenderness and still hoped for love … love for her and the bairn. “Just wait,” his answer a soft murmur in her ear. “Once we’re seated, I’ll ask after her. They cannae ignore the question in front of everyone. If they do, at least we’ll get a reaction.”

“I’m sure my brothers wouldnae hurt her. The trick to get me home wasnae of their making. They thought it a great jest, but I wouldnae put anything past Hadron. He doesnae like me. I doubt he likes anyone but my father, and sometimes not even him.” Eve lifted an eyebrow and looked up at Jamie frae under her lashes. What would her new husband think of her family? If he hadnae a skunner of them before, he would now; but, like the explanation naebody appeared willing to give her, that was a question best left until later.

Everyone sat where the McArthur directed. Though Jamie didn’t say a word, she could tell frae the looks he gave her that he was as amazed as she was when they were seated in the middle, their backs to the hall, but opposite their host and Morag Farquhar, Rob’s mother.

Eve’s youngest brother took the place at her side and then the rest of her family, finishing with her father and Hadron at the very end. It was a relief when her brother squinted down at her belly and grinned. He might be young and foolish, but he had little malice in him. She smiled back, but afore she could ask him aught, Jamie demanded her attention, “These lads next to me are my best friends, Rob and Nhaimeth, the ones who carried ye in frae the cauld yesterday, and for that I am profoundly thankful. I’m afraid I only rescued yer palfrey.”

“Ye have a name for loving horses, but then ye also had a name for being fond of the lassies. But we proved that wrong; now ye have a liking for only one.”

“I cannae argue with the truth,” he said. And that was the trouble.

She could hardly expect him to confess his love afore everyone at the table. The pity of it was she was sure the thought ne’er crossed his mind.