The Chieftain's Feud (10 page)

“But think on,” she murmured softly, yet pointedly to the Buchans. “Most of these terrible losses have been caused within a family, not by outsiders or so called enemies.”

Everyone seated around the board, looked frae one to another and the silence expanded, grew until it seemed to swallow up all the air in the great hall.

Under Jamie’s palm, the bairn, his son, began to kick wildly, as if fearful, as if wanting out of that warm place meant to keep him safe. Beside him, Eve’s face blanched, and the green of her kirtle seemed to reflect off her pale skin. He threw a baleful glance at his father and hers. “I’m taking Eve away frae this atmosphere. She almost froze to death yesterday and needs to rest both for her own sake and the bairn’s.”

Slipping his hand around her back and under arm, he helped her rise and would have lifted her except she looked up at him with her big green eyes he could never resist, and with a wee shake of her head that sent her curls clinging to his chainmail she whispered, “Nae, let me walk away on my own two feet, at least while everyone is watching.”

He did as she asked, guiding her to the wooden steps at the end of the platform that set the high-board above the folk in the hall. Everyone stood as they moved past, and he heard soft murmurs of approval frae the other wives. Her brother John touched her arm and the eldest, Callum said, “It’ll be all right, lass; ye’ll see.”

Her father removed the fist he held pressed close to his lips and said, “I’m sorry, Evie. Gang with yer man, and I’ll see to everything here. Time to make an end to this nonsense, lass. Bad enough that I lost yer mother. I cannae lose ye as well.” As he apologised, Jamie noticed that Buchan had the same colouring as Eve, if a particle more timeworn, with silver threading through his hair and beard.

They had reached the top of the steps when Hadron jumped into the hall and an instant later leapt back two steps and dragged Eve frae Jamie’s arms.

The small knife in Hadron’s hand was used for eating, but when he held it against her throat, Jamie and everyone there was aware it could still kill. The dread thought of blood staining the front of her bonnie green kirtle, her life flowing away, sent Jamie’s hand to the hilt of his sword. He had it out its scabbard as he leapt into the hall, and as he heard the thud of feet landing behind him kenned Rob was with him.

“Keep away lads,” Hadron threatened, unless ye want to be the death of her.” His tone was low but vicious, sharp like the knife he held, then rose as he sang out, sarcastic-like, “See where all yer talking has landed us, Buchan. If ye had left me to my own way of doing, I could have rid us of Ruthven years ago, the way I did his wife.” Jamie heard a clatter behind, stools knocked o’er and his father shouting. It was as naught to Hadron who kept on talking. “The man deserved it, for wasnae his the blame in the first place for stealing yer betrothed? I thought of you, brother, when I raped her.”

The blood rushed to Jamie’s head, his pulse drumming in his ears like a call to war. He danced forward, sword levelled at his prey, but Hadron shifted, placing Eve in the way of his target. Jamie was only one of many armed men crowding around Eve and her captor—all but the Buchans, whose swords had been confiscated and placed in the armoury, and he caught a glimpse of Buchan father and sons conferring.

Would they assist Hadron? He didnae think so, but his own time was too precious to waste speculating. The McArthur and the others would take care of them.

Hadron, intent on stirring Jamie up, tempting him to make a foolish move said, “Come by, lad, come by. See if ye can kill me before I slaughter this wee madam and let her bleed out the way they do to swine.” The smile on Hadron’s lips ne’er reached his eyes, which remained cold as steel but twice as lethal.

“There’s nae way out of this Hadron, ye’ll die here and ye ken it. Give up,” Jamie urged, but his opponent merely dragged Eve around like a sack of turnips.

“Aye, I began this moment certain of the outcome, but that’s not to say I cannae have a wee bit of amusement before I die. Hadron Buchan always gets his own back on yon folk who think he has nae merit. I paid Ruthven back in his own coin and likewise my brother.”

Jamie edged forward and Rob with him, Hadron’s eyes couldn’t be everywhere though they flicked back and forth, searching out any danger to him. Eve’s terror was writ large on her face. It was enough to make him charge, but to do so would kill her, so he held back his anger until the moment when he’d kill Hadron, for kill him he would.

The villain hadn’t finished taunting his brother, and though he was becoming breathless, he had enough air in his lungs to say, “Ye were away at the wars, Buchan, and Elaine was sick and lonely, yet she still rejected me … rejected my love the way she had when I first brought her home frae Northumbria. That potion I fetched to make her better was laced with monkshood. Gradually it made her incapable of telling me nae, or speech of any kind.”

John Buchan and his younger brother had circled around to come at their uncle frae the other end of the great hall. He was looking straight at them when he shouted, “That’s when I raped her. D’ye hear, I took both yer wives afore they died, took them from ye without either of ye suspecting it was I.”

There came a bloodcurdling howl frae Buchan’s place at the far end of the platform, followed by a flash of steel as a skean dhu hit Hadron close to his spine. He staggered, releasing his hold on Eve, and at last Jamie could make his move. He grabbed Eve inelegantly with one arm while thrusting his sword straight through Hadron’s heart.

What happened next was too horrible to describe, or for Eve to see, but Hadron had invited this when he talked of raping wives. When a man’s blood was up, he would commit acts that would repulse him while in his normal state of mind.

Whisking Eve up in his arms, Jamie carried his wife back to their chamber, intent on keeping her mind on other matters for the night and letting the men left behind attend to clearing the mess.

The morning after Yule, Eve awoke surrounded by warmth for the second time since falling deep into a snowdrift on the way to Cragenlaw. As it had then, the world took on a crystal white light, and this time she recognised the cause. The sun had come out, and its reflection on the snow sprang through the narrow windows of the Keep into their chamber.

Their chamber. She had begun to believe such a place would never exist for her … for them … and the warmth enfolding her was exuded by Jamie Ruthven, her new husband. Her head rested on his shoulder, and she thanked God for its comfort having grown accustomed to waking in a chamber where her breath grew more and more visible as winter deepened. Then she remembered the fates of her mother and Jamie’s and kenned she’d been blessed. Twice, both she and the bairn inside her had been in grave danger and her husband had saved them, rescued them, and now the simple act of waking up in Jamie’s strong arms made her feel hope in the future. Their future.

She squirmed backwards until every notch in her spine aligned with his chest, abdomen and the hard length of his male flesh that had been poking her buttocks all night without his experiencing that satisfaction she knew he craved. Yet he had let her sleep, his hand remaining on her belly throughout the night.

Sighing, her eyelids fluttered closed, content to stay where she was and dream. All was well and good, but dreams couldnae be controlled, and this one was in colour—red.

The blades stabbing at her were covered in blood—not hers, Jamie’s. With each thrust of steel, she dodged and the blade stabbed her husband. She was killing him. It made her whimper low in her throat and, eyes wide, she watched a silver streak arc toward her, determined not to move. Instead she screamed, over and over.

The noise had Jamie starting upright and reaching for his sword afore he realised where he was—in bed with Eve.

Her screams gave way to sobs as he turned her in his arms and held her close to his heart. “Hush now, bonnie lass, I’ve got ye.” He rubbed her back and kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her face, sipping on her tears as if they tasted like the grandest wine. “Try to forget what happened. Yer uncle Hadron was a wicked man.”

Eve snuffled against his chest. “He was that. He raped and killed both our mothers and boasted about it. I never really cared for him. He was a rough man, but he was my uncle and he tried to kill me.”

Pushing her hair back frae her forehead Jamie looked deep into her eyes, hoping she could read the truth in his as blue met green and stared. “He was an evil man, but he wasnae stupid. He knew he would die, so he incited the hatred of your father and mine, to make sure that death, when it took him, would be swift.” He tipped up her chin up and brushed her lips with his. “And it would have been swifter, but I feared harming the lass I love more than life … my wife.”

Eve laid her hands on his chest in order to ease back and look him in the face. “Ye love me?” she asked—a question that would have shocked the clothes off his back had he been wearing any. “How could ye doubt me? I’ve loved ye frae the first moment I laid eyes on ye.”

“Why did ye ne’er tell me?”

Another shock. “Ne’er told ye?” Through the gravel in his throat, he groaned, “I thought I had. I asked ye to marry me.”

“I was carrying yer bairn.”

“That was simply an extra advantage. It was you I wanted, and always will for as long as I live,” he admitted as Eve curved her palm around his jaw.

“I love ye, too, and always will,” she promised. Stretching up to place her lips against his, she licked at his mouth and made his go dry. Heart racing, he pulled her closer and for his pains received a powerful kick in his ribs frae his son. Holding his breath, he felt in awe at the wonders of life. Love hurt. It also healed, and as Eve took him into her body, Jamie realised he would have it nae other way.

Jamie was fortunate in his friends. The McArthur and Morag had insisted that he and Eve remain at Cragenlaw until after their bairn was born in early spring. Their son, Arthur, came into the world swiftly, his long limbs kicking and punching to get out. The moment he saw his dark head appear, Jamie kenned he would be the best of them, eyes neither blue nor green but, like the sea, changing depending on his moods.

He could see him now, standing tall, a warrior to his bones, for he would need to be, and Jamie had already asked the McArthur if he would foster him when the time came. Scotland’s future would depend on lads like his son, and Jamie wanted to be certain his son took part in that future and was well prepared for what was to come.

“Wrap that bairn up and come back to bed,” Eve murmured, her hair spread across the pillow frae their lovemaking and her shoulders bare. “It’s so early. I ken that ye find watching Arthur hard to resist, as do I. For a first attempt, I feel we made a guid job of making him, but who’s to say if you come back to bed we cannae do better?”

As naked as his wife, Jamie swiftly rewrapped Arthur’s swaddling clothes and placed him down to sleep in the crib Nhaimeth had made for him.

Joining Eve under the covers, he asked, “What do ye say to a lassie next time. I’ve a mind to have a daughter with red curls and green eyes, though I will make it my greatest endeavour to be vigilant and remove any lads who try to steal her away.” He grinned at his wife.

“Ach, Jamie, I dinnae think that will ever happen, for should we have a daughter who looks just like me, it’s for certain she will twist ye round her wee finger the way her mother did.”

That said, Eve plunged her hands into his hair and pulled him closer, tempting him with her kiss.

For Jamie and Eve, as it began, so it would end … with love.

The End

Nominated for the 2014 RITA Award for Best Historical Romance

Euan McArthur is a chieftain in need of an heir.

While still a young a warrior, Euan incites the fury of a witch. She retaliates with a curse that no wife will ever bear him an heir. As he buries his third wife and yet another bonnie stillborn son, Euan can no longer cast her words aside.

Morag Farquhar is a woman in need of sanctuary. With a young relative in tow, Morag flees the only home she has ever known to escape her brother, Baron of Wolfsdale, and find sanctuary in the MacArthur stronghold. Pronounced barren by a midwife, Morag is of little value to her family, but a Godsend to Euan, a lover he can’t kill by getting with child.

Years ago, chance drew them together, and tangled their lives in ways they could never have imagined. This time their destiny lies in their own hands, but it will take courage and strong hearts to see it through to the end.

Chieftain Series Book 1

Chieftain By Command
Frances Housden