Page 13 of The Highlander’s Dangerous Desire (Kilted Kisses #2)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

M acTavish Keep was a moderately sized, and slightly forbidding looking structure, though Grace admitted that the impression was not at all helped by the fact that night was falling, leaving the dark stone shape barely visible against the gloom. The guards greeted Ewan at the gate, and by the time they reached the door, two more men were waiting.

Ewan dismounted, and helped Grace down, then led her forward. “Malcolm, see tae me companion’s needs. A room, an’ some food an’ drink after our journey. Devlin, come talk with me, an’ tell me what’s been happenin’.”

“Aye, me laird.” The two men nodded. Ewan smiled at Grace. “Get some food an’ a bath if ye want it, Grace, an’ I’ll come tae ye as soon as I’ve spoken with Devlin.”

It seemed strange that he wouldn’t at least introduce her to the two men properly, but at the same time, she was hungry, and the two fires had sounded serious. She knew a lord had to prioritize his time. “I understand.”

She saw both men stiffen slightly at her accent, but neither of them said a thing about her obvious English heritage. The one Ewan had addressed as Malcolm waved over a young woman in the simple and now familiar uniform of a Scottish serving maid. “This is Anne, me lady. She’ll see ye settled with whatever ye wish. I’ll send some lads tae gather yer things, an’ see tae airin’ out a room fer ye.”

“Thank you… Master…”

“Steward, me lady. Just Steward Malcolm.” The man tipped his head, then hurried off, calling for the servants as he went.

Anne offered her a curtsy and a small, shy smile. “Welcome tae MacTavish Keep, me lady. Would ye prefer food or a bath first? Me laird is likely tae be a while.”

“A bath please. Perhaps the food will keep until the lor-laird also has time to take some refreshment?” It was awkward, trying to pronounce the word as the Scottish did, but she made an effort.

“Very good, me lady.” The maid dipped her head. “If ye like, since yer room isnae ready, I’ll show ye tae the main bathin’ chamber fer the castle. Would ye like me tae have a lass bring a change o’ clothes fer ye?”

“Yes please. From my bags if you would.”

“Aye. Reckon yer clothes in this pack will be in need o’ launderin’. Beggin’ yer pardon, me lady.”

“No, it is all right. You are correct.” Grace nodded and smiled and the woman’s blushing cheeks.

“This way please, m’lady.”

Bemused, and not altogether certain whether she was being welcomed or tolerated, Grace followed the maid into the depths of MacTavish Keep.

“Yer lass is English?” Devlin’s voice was an odd blend of amused and almost disapproving as they strode toward Ewan’s study. “Nae what I would have expected.”

“Nae what I intended.” Ewan grumbled. “But that’s also nae why ye sent me two urgent messages, with messengers given orders tae watch for me on the road.”

When they entered the study and shut the door, Devlin moved with practiced ease to pour Ewan a drink. He hesitated, ever a responsible subordinate, and Ewan waved for him to pour a second drink for himself. “What is kent about the fires?”

“They were extinguished easily enough, but a few cottages burned in both places. Folk are uneasy, nae kenning if ‘tis bandits or bad fortune.” Devlin’s tone was heavy. “But in truth, I’m o’ a mind that it is Gael MacTavish. He wants tae make ye seem like an unreliable laird who cannae defend his people.”

“Usin’ fire?”

“Aye. Fire is more dangerous than soldiers. Soldiers can be driven away; men can die. But fire… fire can tak’ a man’s livelihood. Can tak’ a village, from crops tae homes.” Devlin shook his head. “He could convince the Council that ye cannae defend yer people… an it doesnae help that ye’ve been gone fer the better part o’ two fortnights.”

“I ken. But ‘twas an urgent matter.” Ewan downed the rest of his drink and considered pouring himself another. “What did the Council say? The messenger lad said the fires were near the holdings o’ two o’ them.”

“Aye. The holds themselves are nae damaged, but it was close enough tae make the Elders o’ the clan uneasy.” Devlin shook his head. “I’m fair certain ‘tis Gael MacTavish behind it, but I cannae prove it, an’ more’s the pity.”

“Aye.” Ewan took a deep breath. “’Twill nae be much, but make sure the villagers have lodgin’ even if they have tae live here in MacTavish Keep. An’ see that extra coin an’ supplies are given tae replace those that were lost.”

“I’ve done most o’ that already.” Devlin responded. “But I wasnae certain what supplies ye would wish tae give tae the families.”

“What would ye recommend?” Ewan considered the matter. “Two bags o’ seed, two sets o’ clothing an’ two blankets for each member o’ the households. What else?”

“Cookin’ pots and utensils fer each o’ the family, an a pouch o’ coppers fer purchasin’ whatever else they need.” Devlin suggested.

“An’ the clan can support it, or dae we need tae petition Clan MacDuff?” He was fairly certain MacTavish was prosperous enough, but then, he didn’t know how many families needed the support.

“The clan can support it easily.” Devlin nodded. “’Tis six families in all. We’ve the resources tae spare, after the fall harvests.”

“Then that’s what we’ll dae.” Ewan agreed. Then he sighed. “What are the Elders thinkin’ in regard tae Gael MacTavish?”

“He’s young. An’ he has nay experience as a laird, or a leader. But he’s MacTavish stock, an’ he has a wife an’ child. The last is important tae them.” Devlin hesitated. “I ken ye’ve served as a good laird tae the clan since the previous laird fell. An’ though there’s folk who’d call me a fool an’ disloyal for sayin’ so, ye’ve done better by the clan than the man who ruled us afore.”

“I’ve done me best. But what are ye sayin’?”

“Dae ye want tae be the Laird MacTavish?” Devlin’s statement was blunt and straightforward. “There’s nae doubt that ye’re a good leader o’ the clan, but would ye prefer tae be Laird MacTavish, or Laird MacDuff’s second-in-command?”

“I wouldnae be here if I wasnae willing tae claim the responsibility o’ leadin’ the clan.” Ewan frowned. “An’ ye ken that well enough, so why are ye askin’?”

“Because if ye want tae lead the clan, ye have tae establish yer own household. ‘Tis the least o’ what the Elders will expect.”

Ewan scowled, but said nothing. He knew quite well that it was true. Only a year before, he had been arguing the same issue with Alistair.

Now I understand better why he was upset about the matter… ‘tis nae so easy tae be pressured intae marriage ‘fer the sake o’ the clan’. But what is me choice? Tae go back tae bein’ me braither’s shadow?

I love Alistair, an’ he did his best tae treat me as his equal, but if I truly want tae be his equal, then I need tae tak’ the opportunity he gave me… an I need tae defend it. Just as I counseled Alistair tae defend his lairdship afore.

He could defend the lands and people he had taken as his own. But if he truly wished to be a proper laird to his people, he would have to start considering his legacy as well. And, unfortunately, he had little time to deal with the matter.

“M’Laird?” Devlin spoke softly. “The Council o’ Elders will be meetin’ within the next seven-day. An’ they’ll be meeting both ye and Gael MacTavish. I can tell ye now that they’ll be meeting Gael’s wife and son too.”

“I ken.”

“The lass ye brought with ye… will the Council be meeting her?”

Ewan fought back a groan. When he’d told the council he was planning to meet with Laird Cameron in regards to an alliance, and that he might bring back a bride, he’d intended to tell them his search for a proper wife had been unsuccessful. He hadn’t intended to bring Grace near MacTavish lands. Now that she was here, the situation had become difficult.

There was a possible solution. However, he was absolutely certain that Grace was not going to like the idea. He wasn’t sure he did. On the other hand, it might give him some time to find a better - more acceptable - alternative.

He turned to Devlin. “Perhaps ye’d like tae come with me tae find Malcolm, an’ the two o’ ye can meet the lass I’ve been travelin’ with fer the past ten-day or so.”

The bath made Grace feel much more like herself, and the bracing tea that Anne served her afterward was both warming and comforting. The room she was offered to wait in was stone, but hung with thick wall hangings that kept the warmth of the fire in the room. Unlike her uncle’s keep, the place had minimal furniture, heavy but comfortable. There weren’t a lot of mementos or paintings, but the austerity of the plain stone was oddly appealing as far as Grace was concerned.

A knock on the door was followed by Anne. “M’lady. M’laird asks if ye’ll join him and Steward Malcolm an’ Master Devlin fer supper.”

“Of course. I’d be happy to.” Grace followed the young woman to another room, a room appointed as a laird’s study. A small table was set for four, and Ewan was standing nearby, accompanied by the two men she’d met briefly before.

“M’laird.” Anne curtseyed and left.

“Grace.” Ewan stepped forward. “I’d like ye tae meet me close friends and counselors - Devlin an’ Malcolm.” He paused, and Grace felt a small knot of tension settle in her stomach. “Devlin, Malcolm, I’d like ye tae meet Lady Grace Lancaster - the woman I hope will dae me the honor o’ becoming me wife.”

If lightning had struck, she couldn’t have been more startled. “I… you never…” She saw the sudden, hopeful, almost pleading look on Ewan’s face and swallowed down her first, vehement denial. “You did not tell me you’d be announcing it so soon.”

Or even that it was a consideration. I thought you agreed to discuss such things with me after the incident with the villager not a seven-day ago!

She was abruptly, coldly furious with Ewan MacDuff. She wanted to slap him. However, she also knew enough about Ewan to know that he wouldn’t have done such a thing without some reason. The man she’d gotten to know while crossing the Highlands had more sense and courtesy than to behave in such a manner.

Ewan’s eyes were apologetic as he moved closer. “I ken. I should have mentioned it tae ye. But I wanted tae introduce ye tae Devlin an’ Malcolm properly, afore we went to meet the Council.”

The Council?

Her uncle had always had the final say in matters of the Lancaster family, at least since her father’s death. However, she knew from listening to him grumble with other lords how a council for a ruler functioned. She could also guess that introducing her to the Council was tantamount to announcing their wedding to clan and country, even if he made the introduction as informal as he had a moment ago.

Slapping him didn’t seem to be quite the right response.

“You should have given me more warning,” she hissed as low as possible so that the only one who could hear her was Ewan. “Besides, you know full well that my only reason for accompanying you was to see my friend, Niamh MacDuff. And, in any case… have you even told your Council where I hail from?”

“I told them I was seeking tae secure an alliance with Niamh MacDuff née Cameron’s kinfolk, an’ that I might seek a wife.”

“And you do not think there will be… concerns?”

“I dinnae think it matters.”

“You dinnae think it matters?” How could it not matter - introducing her as his English bride to a room full of Highland Elders. “You…”

She hissed at him again, as discretely as she could. Ewan caught her arm. “Enough lass. I’ll nae be introducing ye tae the Council taenight. An’ there’s nae need tae indulge in a fit o’ temper about the matter.”

He took her arm and led her toward the table. “Mayhap ye will feel a little less flustered after a good meal.”

“And mayhap I will feel less flustered if I toss the wine in your face.”

Ewan smirked, making her want to kick him. “Och, I wouldnae waste the good wine with such an action lass.”

As if to underscore the point, her stomach chose that moment to grumble. Grace blushed as Ewan’s eyebrow rose. She swallowed her first reaction, and pulled herself free to sit with as much dignity as she could muster. “Very well. We shall, however, be discussing the matter further after supper when we’re alone.”

Ewan nodded, and accepted a tankard from one of the other men, before taking his own seat. “As ye will, Grace. After supper.”

The other two men joined them for dinner, and Grace turned her attention to the meal.

She might be too well-mannered to challenge Ewan in front of his men, but she was certainly going to let him know exactly how displeased she was.

Ewan grimaced as Devlin and Malcolm left the study after supper was over. He was certain Grace was angry. He wasn’t certain she would forgive him for his actions after he’d explained.

Grace, lady that she was, waited until the door had closed before she turned to him. “I thought you understood that I wished to be consulted before you made such announcements.”

“Aye. Ye told me, an’ I agreed. ‘Twas a…” Ewan paused, then sighed. He’d never been one to make excuses for himself. “I’m sorry I put ye in that position fer the second time.”

“I should like to know why you did so. This time is a lot worse than the last. How are ye going to get out of this?””

He might as well tell her the whole truth. “When I left tae find ye, I told the Council that I was leavin’ tae seek our own peace with yer friend Niamh’s kin-folk. An’ that I might bring back a possible lady tae be me betrothed. I didnae want tae risk that they’d protest me decision tae escort an Englishwoman through the Highlands fer nay benefit tae the clan I’m currently the overseer fer.”

The words did not appease her, but after a moment, she nodded. “I suppose I can understand that. But why did you not at least give me some warning?”

“Because I didnae originally plan fer ye tae come any closer tae MacTavish Keep than MacDuff Castle. I planned tae return alone, an’ tell the Council that I hadnae found anyone I was willin’ tae be betrothed tae. A day or two afore I met ye, however, Devlin sent me word that there was another contestant for the lairdship, Gael MacTavish. An’ then there were the fires… which may have been caused by bandits, or had possibly been lit by Gael’s men.”

“Is there no way to be sure which is the truth?”

“Nae at this moment.” He shook his head.

“And what does this have to do with your decision to claim me as your betrothed?” Grace frowned.

“Gael MacTavish has a distant claim o’ blood, and a family. A wife and son. I’ve been the overseer and laird for two seasons, but there’s a chance that the Council will let him claim the lairdship on those grounds. Especially as my presence is justified by the fact that the previous laird died without an heir.”

She nodded. “I understand. My uncle has often considered similar matters.”

“I still intend tae tak’ ye tae Castle MacDuff taemorrow. Ye dinnae need tae meet the Council if ye dinnae wish tae.”

Grace frowned, but it seemed more thoughtful than angry. “So…”

“Ye dinnae have tae pretend tae be me betrothed if ye dinnae wish.”

“And if I did agree to support this… ruse?”

“Then ye’d meet the Council first thing in the morning.”

“You know they are likely to object to the fact that I am English.”

“I ken. However…” He hesitated, then continued. “The protection o’ bein’ a laird’s betrothed will keep ye safer than anything else I could dae. And safer than just bein’ Niamh’s friend. An’ after the bairn’s born, if ye like, we’ll simply say that we’ve come tae a different decision, an’ have someone escort ye home.”

Grace considered that argument. Ewan held his breath. He’d told her the truth, and it was up to Grace to make the decision now. He wouldn’t try to convince her to agree with him, even if the result made his life more difficult.

Finally, Grace nodded. “Very well, I agree to your suggestion. I shall present myself as your betrothed, until such time as we may agree to part ways.”

Ewan breathed a sigh of relief, and wondered why he also felt a pang of something that might be disappointment.