The Draig's Woman (10 page)

Interrupting the conversation, Ian said, “Nay, sister. I promised Claire on our journey that I would show her the grounds and the keep. Unlike our travels, this day promises warm sunshine.”

Hagan added, “I would nay have you break you word, brother. But there are matters that need your attention. You have been gone a while. Some things will nay wait any longer.” Claire heard the underlying truth in Hagan’s statement; she and Ian were to stay apart. “Your sister is more than capable of showing my cousin her new home.” His eyes settled on his wife with a smile signaling this victory.

“Come, Claire, the sun is out, and the child is restless.” Aliana rose and grabbed her arm. “We will have a fine morning.”

Ian stood with defeat written across his features. Claire felt the sadness creep back into her chest. He was not for her.

“What about the accounts? I planned to start today.” Claire spoke to Ian but kept her eyes safely on the child.

Ian said, “You have traveled far and hard. They will be there after you have had a chance to rest and refresh yourself. Take a few days to recover.”

Turning her eyes up to face Ian, she said, “I would prefer to start today, if that is okay. It’s hardly strenuous work.” Claire waited for a reply, hoping he would let her.
A little time together today would be nice, just working of course.

Ian’s small smile told her that she had gotten her way. “If you wish, I can show you after the midday meal. We can spend the afternoon getting you acquainted with your tasks. If that is acceptable to you, Hagan?”

Hagan recognized Ian’s verbal challenge. “That should be fine. Then we should begin immediately with our work.”

Aliana took her cue. “Come, I will show you the grounds of your new home.”

Claire took the plain cloak Neala offered to keep away the morning chill and then followed Aliana to the main door. She turned briefly back to Ian, saw the hurt in his brilliant green eyes, and knew the day would have been perfect if he was the one showing her the grounds.
If I had said yes, this day might have been ours to enjoy.
After meeting Hagan, Claire knew the decision had been correct. These people needed more than she could even think of providing. Claire also knew that Ian’s gaze followed every step she made until she was long out of sight.

Chapter 8

Claire walked the corridor to the study. She entered the room and immediately felt more cheerful. A window looked into the gardens, and shelves stood on either side of the fireplace where Ian crouched and built a fire. There was so much in the chamber worthy of notice: the seating area against the wall, the tapestries covering the stone, and the large table covered in papers. Instead, she watched Ian’s back move as he stoked the flames in the fireplace.

Rising in a single fluid motion, Ian stood before her. No words of greeting were offered, just a warm smile that lit his green gaze. Ian’s hand tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, causing his fingers to brush gently down her neck. The sound of her quick breath filled the air.

“Are you sure you wish to begin this day, Claire?” The words were soft while his eyes searched her face, a very different question written on his features.

“I think so . . . I mean, yes?” Claire’s voice was too breathy for her liking.
How can one simple touch make me feel this way?
She took a deep breath intending to clear her mind but was only filled with his scent.

No one should smell this good
.

She cleared her throat. “Where should we begin?”

“With something to eat,” Neala answered, carrying in a tray of food. She set it on a small table nestled between two chairs off to the side of the fire. “Since neither of you bothered to come to the hall, I’ve brought you something. Claire, sit close to the fire as the breeze outside still carries a chill. There is water for you and ale for Ian.” With an acknowledgment to Ian’s look of surprise, she added, “The lass and I spent a fine early morning talking. I am well aware of what is preferred.” She quickly filled the waiting cups. “There now, eat and then be about your business. I will be close at hand if you should need me, child. Forgive me for leaving, but there is much to be done.” With a quick nod, Neala was gone.

“Tell me, Claire, did you enjoy your tour of the grounds?” Ian asked while filling the plates with food.

As they ate, she talked of all she had seen: the front courtyard, the training area, the stables, the kitchen gardens, the outer buildings, and the cliffs overlooking the sea. “It was so beautiful. I’ve never seen a view quite like the one you have of the sea. It’s simply breathtaking. The only challenge was keeping Cerwyn from running too close to the edge.” Claire laughed as she told stories of the child and the mischief he found at every turn. “Then we ended with a quick stop in the kitchen, and here I am.”

“You went into the kitchen? You are braver than most.”

“You are afraid of the kitchen?” Claire caught his amused expression. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

Ian’s smile faded. “‘Tis nay the kitchen I fear, but the woman who runs it.”

“Do you mean Finella? She was almost as nice to me as Neala. She even gave me a full tour.” Claire wondered who could be afraid of a woman who barely stood five feet and probably weighed less than ninety-five pounds.

“She is a strange one. Finella will only speak in her people’s tongue even though she understands everyone just fine. Nay a soul can remember a time when Finella dinna occupy the kitchens. That one rules her space and rules it well. I have learned throughout the years to stay out of her way.” Ian entertained her with stories of being chased from the kitchens as a small lad. Her laughter filled the study as he spoke of being sent away from there even as laird.

“Then I will make sure to be on my best behavior in the kitchen. She sounds like the wrong person to make angry. Though I must say I find it all hard to picture. Finella was so sweet to me.” Then it clicked in Claire’s mind, Ian’s comment about her people’s tongue. “Finella must really like me because she spoke to me in English, like you. Which is good or I wouldn’t have understood anything.”

Ian sat a little straighter in his chair. “We are speaking Gaelic, lass. Mayhap our people call the same tongue by different names.”

Shaking her head, Claire said, “I’ve heard of a language called Gaelic and know only that it was spoken in this area of the world a long time ago.” She realized with a start that this was a long time ago. She rose from the seat before the fire and paced the length of the cozy chamber.

For whatever reason, she could mentally accept she was stuck, at least for now, in thirteenth century in Scotland. Understanding languages was something else entirely. The only thing she knew for certain was that she spoke English and that she had probably forgotten more of her high school Spanish than she remembered.

Ian’s voice cut into her mental fog. “Tell me why this troubles you.”

“I don’t speak Gaelic, much less any other language you would recognize. We shouldn’t be able to understand each other at all,” Claire explained as she paced. Her motion came to an abrupt halt when she found Ian standing in front of her. She had been so lost in the mystery that she hadn’t even heard him stand up.

Before she could blink, Ian held her face in his warm hands. He asked, “Do you ken the meaning of my words?”

“You are asking me if I understand what you are saying,” Claire replied. She was aware that she did nothing to put any distance between them.

“Has there ever been a moment when you dinna ken the meaning?” Ian demanded while his emerald eyes bore into hers.

Thinking over the question, she knew from the moment they had met, understanding each other verbally hadn’t been a concern.
Too bad for me that my body has no issues either.
With his hands cupping her cheeks and one thumb tracing her lower lip, Claire felt her breathing become rapid and shallow.

“Hear me now, Claire. Nay a chance will be taken that you dinna ken my meaning. When I claimed you it was for more than a night,” Ian began.

She was trapped like a deer in headlights. While Ian’s face was neutral, his eyes glowed at the reference. For just a moment, their eyes locked and they were back at that inn. She could almost feel his skin against hers and hear him asking her to be his. The blush was hot on her cheeks as her body responded unbidden with heat coiling low in her belly. It was obvious he knew everything she was feeling and remembering. It was clear in his eyes.

At that moment at the inn, with his body covering hers, she hadn’t completely understood the full implication of what he had offered. Her mind and body had been lost in a blinding need for him. Even now, she doubted she would have said no to making love if she had known it could have left her married or heartbroken. That it had taken everything ounce of strength she had to deny him as they had talked the previous night in the rain ran through her mind.
How in the world am I supposed to be strong enough to say no again? Why would I ever want to say no to him?

She turned away to blink away the moisture that threatened to become tears.

Ian’s voice broke into her haze of thought, and his voice softly called her name. “Claire.” She heard it so clearly, how he was asking for far more than her attention.

Snap out of it. If I answer him now, my promise is broken. Stop thinking about him and start thinking about the implications. I understand a language I’ve never heard before. Why?

The annoying voice in her head was right. She had vowed to leave him alone for a very good reason. Mutual desire did not equate to his taxes being paid or keeping the people she had met from starvation. They were why she would keep her promise.

Getting out the only words she could form, Claire said quietly, “Maybe the door I came through did more than just change my place and time. Do you think it could have enabled me to understand the way people talk here?” Daring a glance up, Claire saw Ian regain his composure. The want was still in his eyes, but it was tempered now.

He inhaled deeply before he replied, “It makes the most sense. Your passage here appears to have given you a tool to survive.”

If only it had given me more strength
, she thought. She was going to need it. “Since it seems like the most rational explanation, let’s assume it’s right.”

“Tell me you have always kenned my meaning,” Ian asked softly.

“Always, Ian. I swear it,” she answered. A chill crept down her spine as his hands fell to his side.

For several long minutes, the room was silent as each took time to come to terms with one more goodbye. Ian finally broke the quiet. “So, Finella took a liking to you. Count yourself fortunate, for you are one of the few.” Ian took a long drink before asking his next question. “Did Aliana introduce you to many in the clan today? ‘Tis my hope that all who greeted you were as kind.” The look he gave spoke of dread at what the answer might hold.

“Well, I met the women in the kitchens, the ones out back who were hanging the laundry to dry, the man who tends the horses, a few from the village who were in the courtyard, and the men who were out training. Everyone was very welcoming and nice.” Claire didn’t add how Aliana made of point of telling the men that she was single and from a fine clan or how long they had spent with the men. “Honestly, it will take me a while just to remember everyone’s names.”

Ian’s look said he knew what had been left out. “If you are finished with your meal, we can begin.”

Avoidance is a wonderful thing when applied correctly. Hopefully, it will continue.
Turning to face the desk, she felt a sudden burst of confidence.
Business Claire was back in charge. If I can handle past due accounts and bankers, Business Claire can deal with working side by side with Ian.
She paused to take a look at the desk covered in books and loose papers. “Tell me that mess is not your accounts.” Claire moved to stand in front of the desk, taking in the disarray there and also on the shelves.

With a guilty look, Ian asked, “Is it that bad?”

Picking up notes, letters, and other papers, she stated, “Ian, it is that bad. When was the last time you could find the wood under this mess?”

Ian thought before he answered. “It has been some time. Mayhap not since Bryan left us, the man who kept the accounts last.”

Claire sat in the desk chair and started to sort the debris into piles. “How long has it been since he left?”

“Bryan left before last winter began, shortly after the harvest.”

“Are you telling me no one has taken care of any of this in almost a year?” Claire thought she might be in way over her skill level. “Look, I need your help. As it is, I need to learn how your money, or coin is valued, and what you consider something of worth for you books. There are letters here to be read and answered. I don’t know where to even begin.” She sat back in the chair, overwhelmed by the job that needed to be done.

Just take a deep breath . . .

“How about we start by sorting this mess out? One step at a time.”

“‘Tis a fine plan, lass,” Ian responded. He moved a chair next to hers and began sorting.

Chapter 9

“Are you still in here?” Hagan asked as he entered the study.

Ian wanted to kick Hagan out immediately. He thought Hagan should be pleased that he had spent the last week at work attending to the duties of being a laird. Much had been accomplished; the herds had been counted, the plans for planting were in place, and messengers had been sent out with long-awaited replies. Even the desk and shelves were organized.

“You can see we are, what is it that you need?” Ian’s tone carried his displeasure. This was the only time he spent with Claire alone. Most of it was spent working, yet there seemed to be a bit of time spent getting to know more of her. She was quick in thought and in wit. Even he was amazed at how much they had accomplished in so short a time. Mayhap the business of running the clan was not as tedious as believed, especially with Claire at his side.

With a laugh, Hagan continued, “Believe me when I say that last thing I wish is to stop you from working. Have I not been asking you to see to these matters for quite some time? However, the evening meal is being served. The men wait for you, as does my wife. We are all aware of how little she likes to wait for anything.”

Ian looked at Hagan. “Well spoken. A meal sounds like a fine thing.” He turned to see Claire still reading old ledgers. “Lass, ‘tis enough for today. It will be here on the morrow.” He called her name again before getting any response.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?” Claire asked as she looked up at the two men waiting for a response.

Ian turned to Hagan. “Go on to your meal. We will be there in a moment.” He waited for the man to leave. “Lass, when the laird speaks ‘tis wise to listen.”

Claire’s eyes sparkled with humor at his comment. She laughed. “But of course, laird, what was it you wished?”

There were many things he wished, but none of those were to be spoken aloud. He closed his eyes briefly as his mind wandered where it should not and then continued with what could be spoken. “I wish for you to be done so we can eat.” Claire’s graceful body glided to his side.

With a small mock curtsey, she said, “Then let’s go. I can see to the rest tomorrow.”

With a barely restrained chuckle, Ian led her into the hall, allowing his hand to touch the small of her back as they walked. He waited for the opportunities to place his hands on her. He knew he should resist the temptation, as his hands always craved more.

Entering the hall with Claire at his side made his chest swell with pride. She may not be his, but he treated her as such. As had become their routine, Claire sat at his right across from Hagan and Aliana. One never quite knew where the wee one would sit, and the preference of laps changed constantly.

“Larry!” Cerwyn squealed as he ran to sit on Claire. Scooping the child into her arms, the battle for her name had long been over and “Larry” had won.

“So how goes your progress today, cousin?” Hagan asked.

“If you are looking for exact, I still need a bit more time,” Claire replied.

Ian knew what Hagan wanted, he had asked every day. Yet he sat and listened as Claire explained the matters that had been decided just today. The household stores and supplies would all be counted. The livestock would be left to multiply, especially the sheep. Wool had once brought in a fine price at the markets; hopefully it would again this fall. Meat for the table would come from hunting; groups of the men would be assigned to begin this task for the morrow. She began to speak of her research into the taxes, but Cerwyn interrupted, the usually happy toddler now very angry.

Aliana took the child into her arms as his hands held bright red cheeks. “‘Tis the other tooth. I fear this will be a long night.” With a stern look at her husband, she said, “You will be needed, keep your drinking small this night.” With a quick step to the stairs, Aliana asked, “Are you coming up with us, Claire?”

Each night Ian wished her a good sleep as she left in the company of his sister. Each night he stayed in the hall, drowning his thoughts in whiskey. Ian pretended not to notice when a few of the men asked Hagan for permission to spend time with Claire alone. Thankfully, Hagan always replied, “The lass is newly arrived, let her find her way here.” Even then there would be little in the way of permission, and Hagan let it be known that she could make up her own mind. He wasn’t sure how he would survive knowing Claire was alone in the gardens with one of his men.

Each night Hagan pointed out that his bride would arrive soon. Each night Ian grew to resent Hagan and his part in arranging the upcoming marriage. While deep in his cups, Ian resented the responsibility to which he had been born. As he sat in his chamber alone late at night with the embers burning low in the hearth, he imagined how different his life would be if Claire had said yes, if she had claimed him. Then he drank until he could think no more. Ian was aware this behavior needed to cease.