Black Raven's Lady: Highland Lairds Trilogy (29 page)

Keir had desired Raine for two long, self-recriminating years.

And in the end he’d been awarded his heart’s delight.

Perchance ’twas magic after all.

He didn’t care.

 

Chapter 24

September 1504

Archnacarry Manor

Western Highlands

O
NCE THE
R
AVEN
and her sister ships passed the Isle of Mull and entered the Firth of Lorne, word quickly spread that their topgallants had been sighted. Upon reaching port, the crews of the three galleons were given permission to go ashore, save for a watch left to guard the ships under Abid al-Rahman’s supervision. Ethan and Robbie Gibson’s parents met them at the gangplank to take the lads home until shore leave was over.

Colin and his father, Walter, planned to travel to Kinrath Castle to visit Lachlan MacRath and his wife, Lady Francine. Fearchar and Tam would ride to Kinlochleven Castle to stay with their cousin, Rory MacLean, and his wife, Lady Joanna, as well as Fearchar’s wife, Maude. After time spent in the port town arranging for supplies, Macraith assured Keir he’d join him at Kinlochleven for the wedding.

Riding from the
Raven
’s anchorage in Loch Linnhe, Keir brought Raine home to her mother. He could sense Raine’s excitement the moment Archnacarry Manor came into view through the surrounding trees. The gray stone building with its four flanking towers had once been a primitive square keep.

Under Gideon Cameron’s capable stewardship, the upper part of the manor house had blossomed into a castellated skyline of gables, turrets, and dormers.

Keir felt his own tension rising as his time to face Raine’s uncle and guardian, Laird Alex Cameron, approached.

With his arm placed protectively around Raine’s shoulders, Keir entered the manor’s great hall, where Raine’s mother, Lady Nina, and Uncle Alex would most likely be waiting.

Word had traveled even faster than Keir expected.

To his surprise his own mother, Lady Emma MacNeil, and his uncle, Duncan Stewart, earl of Appin, stood next to the Camerons, along with Raine’s dotty Aunt Isabel. In honor of the voyagers’ safe return, the men wore their clan dress kilts. The ladies had tartan shawls pinned across the shoulders of their pretty gowns.

Lady Nina smiled the moment her daughter appeared in the open doorway. She stepped toward them, holding her hands out in welcome. “Raine, my dearest! And Keir!” she called across the wide expanse of the large room. “How wonderful that you’ve both returned to us safely.”

As always Nina Cameron resembled a compassionate angel, with her red-gold hair and creamy complexion. But Keir could imagine the lady’s keen disappointment once she learned that he’d taken advantage of her naïve young daughter.

That he had in fact taken her innocent daughter into his bed.

Keir refused to dissemble.

Nor try to make excuses for his inexcusable behavior.

Standing just inside the doorway, he held Raine close beside him, his arm about her slender waist. He could feel her lithe body trembling with the exhilaration of homecoming. He hoped she’d remain true to the promise he’d elicited before they’d disembarked. Raine had agreed—reluctantly—to let him do all the explaining, so everyone’s disapproval would fall on his guilty head.

With an upward jut of his chin, Keir met their curious eyes. Lady Emma watched him with her usual composure. A loving smile curved her lips and her holly-green eyes glowed in welcome. He feared she wouldn’t be smiling long.

“Raine and I are going to be married,” Keir announced in the voice of authority generally reserved for his crew. He wanted to make clear to everyone present that the subject wasn’t open for discussion. Nor did he intend to haggle with Raine’s guardian over the particulars of the marriage settlement.

Alex Cameron could insist that a large sum be paid to the bride’s widowed mother to compensate for the sudden, unexpected loss of her only child. And the title to a large tract of land in Barra might be demanded from her guardian in retaliation for Keir’s failure to follow accepted protocol. Keir didn’t care what the marriage contract would cost him. After all he
had
seduced their bonny, intelligent lass and by sheer good fortune won her heart in the process.

Keir intended to marry Raine no matter who objected. Not even his own lovely mother, who’d surely be appalled at his unchivalrous conduct.

Keeping Raine at his side, he stopped partway up the long hall and waited, expecting to hear an angry chorus raised in dissent and condemnation. Instead, each and every person standing in front of the room’s enormous fireplace beamed their approval and offered their joyous felicitations on the impending wedding. To Keir’s astonishment, the cavernous hall echoed with deep male laughter and feminine cries of delight.

Lady Nina opened her arms and Raine ran to her mother. “ ’Tis wonderful news, dearest child,” Nina said, hugging her daughter close. “I’m so happy for the two of you.”

Keir watched in relief as Raine returned her mother’s kisses, her musical laughter spilling over at last. “I promised Keir I’d be quiet long enough for him to announce our intentions. But he failed to tell you the most important news of all.” Raine paused and looked around the room at her loved ones, who appeared to be holding their breath as they waited for her glad tidings. “Keir and I are deeply and truly in love!”

Her eyes flashing with a droll humor, Aunt Isabel embraced Raine. “Didn’t I tell you, child, to stay close to Laird MacNeil and you’d be safe?” she asked with knowing smile. “I was certain how things would turn out in the end.”

Wisps of gray hair stuck out from under Isabel’s old-fashioned horned headdress. As always, the short, plump spinster had bits of oatmeal sprinkled on her shoulders in the idiotic belief that it would ward off faeries. And the small pair of scissors hanging around her neck was thought by the foolish and ignorant to be a great protection from the entire elfin race.

Isabel turned to Keir and gave him a warm hug. “On the day of Raine’s birth,” she told him with a happy laugh, “I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed she wasn’t born with a pair of wings.”

’Twas clear Raine loved her aunt, so Keir intended to keep his skeptical thoughts to himself for the moment. He’d wait until they were in private to explain to Raine once again that the Celtic people’s near-universal belief in the fairy faith had been based on ancient wonder tales created out of sheer nonsense by their Druidic ancestors.

With a sincere smile, Laird Alex offered his hand to Keir. “Congratulations, Laird MacNeil, and welcome to our family.”

Stunned at his obvious pleasure, Keir shook his hand, then turned to his own mother. “I have your blessing as well?” he asked, still prepared for her disapproval.

No one needed to tell Keir that he wasn’t worthy of marriage to Raine. As her protector on their dangerous voyage, he should have kept his hands off her—and he damn well knew it.

“Certainly you have my blessing,” Lady Emma told him, her wide smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. Taking Keir’s hands, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “The two of you were made for each other, my dear. But I sometimes wondered how long it would take for you both to realize it.”

Uncle Duncan grinned and thumped Keir on the shoulder. “Good for you, lad! Good for you!” The earl of Appin’s astute eyes twinkled with merriment. “I’d begun to lose hope that you and Raine would stop bickering long enough to perceive what those around you could see so clearly—the pair of you were already half in love, but too stubborn to admit it.” Duncan leaned closer and whispered in Keir’s ear. “Of course that fiasco with two women fighting over you in Edinburgh didn’t help your cause any.”

Keir returned his uncle’s good-natured grin. “Never again,” he promised with a rueful laugh. “I can assure you, sir, that travesty will never happen again.”

Everyone began to talk at once. Servants carried trays of wine among the happy family members. Toasts were made to the fortunate couple.

In the midst of the din, Keir drew his uncle aside and spoke in a quiet tone. “Did you receive my message to cease negotiations with Laird MacNab?”

A dapper man in his early fifties, the earl of Appin was perceptive and shrewd. Keir had total confidence in his uncle’s ability to unravel any promises that might have been made.

“Your letter came too late, I’m afraid,” Duncan replied.

Keir frowned in disappointment. “You mean I’m officially contracted to Mariota?”

His hazel eyes twinkling with merriment, Duncan shook his head. “Nay, lad,” he answered, “but brace yourself for a shock.” Amusement flitted across his aristocratic face, but his tone was solemn. “I’m obliged to inform you that your offer of marriage has been turned down by Mariota’s apologetic and rather mortified father.”

Keir grinned in relief. “Fillan MacNab disapproved of me then?”

“I’m sorry to say ’twas the maid herself who disapproved. When Mariota learned that her parents intended to hand her over to one of the Hellhounds of Scotland, she ran away with a mild-mannered lad she’d known since childhood. So I’m afraid you’ve been rejected by your first choice for a wife.”

Keir held up his glass of wine. “Here’s to being rejected.”

Duncan touched his glass to Keir’s. “And a toast to both the happy couples. May they prosper and be blessed with many children.”

At that moment Raine came up. Slipping her arm through Keir’s, she leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed in obvious contentment. “What two happy couples?”

“It seems, sweetheart,” Keir said, “we’re not the only ones soon to be married. The maid of Strathfillan has eloped with a secret admirer.”

Her sloe eyes wide with disbelief, Raine looked at Keir in astonishment. “Mariota MacNab refused your offer?” She turned to Duncan, utter bewilderment on her lovely features. “How could this possibly be?”

Speechless, Duncan gazed at Raine, clearly mystified that she knew about Keir’s offer of marriage to another woman. Most ladies would have a far different reaction, given the female penchant for jealousy.

Keir chuckled as he brought Raine closer and bussed her forehead. “Not every lass is brave enough to marry a notorious privateer, darling.”

L
ATER THAT
MORNING
Raine peeked into the music room, pleased to find it just the same. The heavy damask curtains on the tall windows were pulled back to allow the autumn sunshine to fill the room. A harp and virginal stood near an inside wall where three different-sized lutes hung, ready to be lifted down and played at a moment’s notice. Bookshelves and paintings graced the walls. Armchairs and small tables were scattered about the room, which had always been her favorite place in the manor. ’Twas here that the family had often gathered, playing and singing, and entertaining guests.

Taking a deep breath, Raine walked across the rug to stand in front of the fireplace. She looked up solemnly at the portrait of Laird Gideon Cameron. As always her father smiled down at her.

Memories of his kindness filled her heart. When she was tiny, he’d lift her up in front of him on his mount. He’d shown Raine how to ride her first pony and when the time came, taught her how to jump a hunter over a stone wall. Her childhood had been filled with his loving presence, always there to guide her with a gentle word.

During his lifetime Papa had earned the respect and admiration of all who knew him. He’d taught Raine to strive for high ideals. To be courageous, true to herself, and considerate of others.

Gideon had been a scholar of history and geography. Rather than leave her schooling to a hired tutor, he’d instructed Raine in all her lessons, He’d only begun to teach her about astronomy when he’d been murdered defending his wife’s honor—and ultimately, his daughter’s unblemished birthright as the maid of Archnacarry.

There was no doubt in Raine’s mind that Papa had loved her. She’d sailed through the Hebrides in the midst of a rebellion, foolishly searching for a man she’d believed was her father. She’d been wrong. Gideon Cameron had been her father in every sense of the word and she couldn’t have asked for a better one.

Lost in reverie, Raine sank down on the high-backed settle that faced the fireplace. She understood now why her mother had always admonished her for questioning her own heritage. It hadn’t mattered to Papa that his daughter was a black-eyed, black-haired child in a family of pale-eyed blonds. It no longer mattered to Raine.

The rustle of satin brought Raine’s attention back to the present. Her mother stepped through the doorway. “There you are, dear,” she said and came to sit with Raine on the high-backed settle.

She put her arm around Raine’s waist and drew her close. Together they looked up at the portrait of Gideon.

“I was just thinking what a wonderful father I had,” Raine said quietly.

“We were the center of Papa’s world,” Mama agreed, tears glistening in her eyes. “No one could have loved us more.”

H
E’S A BEAUTY,
Mother. Thank you.” Keir looked at the black colt in admiration, then back to Lady Emma standing beside him.

Slightly taller than most women, Emma MacNeil exuded a vivacious loveliness combined with unruffled serenity. ’Twas a quality few possessed.

“I thought you deserved a gift to celebrate your safe return,” she told him. Her green eyes glowed with pleasure. “I purchased a pregnant mare when Duncan and I were visiting the king and queen at Stirling Castle this past spring. I was thinking especially of you, dear, when I chose her. The foal was born in June just as you were leaving to fight the rebellion. Duncan and I decided to bring them from Stalcaire to surprise you.”

The spirited colt raced about the Archnacarry paddock with several yearlings, giving a spectacular display of beauty and grace, while the mare watched her offspring’s antics placidly. The black colt had a well-shaped head on a muscular neck, a blaze of white on the forehead. Two long white stockings stretched up his hind legs from the fetlocks nearly to the hocks.

Keir put his arm around his mother’s shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze, then looked back to admire the lively youngster again. Putting two fingers to his lips, Keir gave a piercing whistle. The colt stopped still and looked in their direction. He whinnied and tossed his mane, bold eyes flashing. Keir held out an apple, and the colt came trotting over, apparently used to receiving treats. The chestnut mare followed right behind, wanting to make certain her foal was in safe company.

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