Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

D arren woke feeling slightly sore, but more relaxed than he’d felt in a long while. He also woke completely nude, with the fingers of one hand tangled in a soft linen shawl. The sight of it brought a smile to his face. As did the sight of Alayne, curled amid the blankets and pillows beside him, still asleep.

Then he heard the soft but insistent knocking at his door, like too many other mornings lately. With a sigh that was almost a groan, Darren rolled himself to the edge of the bed and carefully eased himself into an upright position. To his relief, he was far less sore than he’d been the day before, though still fairly stiff. He took another breath, growling quietly at another knock, then heaved himself out of bed and went to collect his discarded kilt.

Once he was decently attired, he went to the door, to find Bard on the other side of the portal, looking faintly apologetic. Darren stepped into the front room and shut the door. “What time is it, and why are ye waking me?”

“Tis two hours past dawn, me laird.” Darren raised an eyebrow. That was later than he’d slept for some time, not counting the days he’d spent unconscious. “And I was thinkin’ tae let ye rest, but ye’ve visitors, and the situation is…” he trailed off.

“Who is it?”

“Yer braither Marcus and his wife turned up about a candle-mark ago. Apparently, Ryan sent word tae yer braithers that there was some trouble here, and they elected tae come see what the situation was fer themselves. I was plannin’ tae make yer excuses and wait until ye woke on yer own, but then Laird Ranald came down tae break his fast, and yer braither was a wee bit upset.”

“I’ll wager he was.” Marcus had been there for the whole feud between himself and Donall’s father, and his wife’s sister had been kidnapped and threatened by Donall himself. Given Erin’s temperament, Darren was entirely uncertain which of the pair would be more likely to attack Alayne’s brother.

He scrubbed a hand over his face with another groan. He didn’t need a misunderstanding between his brother and Donall creating more problems to deal with. “Who’s keeping an eye on them?”

“Adrian and Ryan.”

“All right.” He took a deep breath. “Tell the cooks tae make extra breakfast, if they havenae already, then get me braither and his wife something warm tae drink, and tell them I’ll be down as soon as I’ve dressed.”

“Aye, me laird.” Bard dipped his head in a half bow, then turned and left. Darren went to tip some water from the nearest pitcher into a basin to wash his face. The cold water made him feel a little more alert, and ended any amorous thoughts that might have been budding before Bard’s knock. He raked his damp hair back, and went to get dressed.

He hadn’t planned on disturbing Alayne, but she was awake, and already getting dressed when he reentered the room. She looked up as he entered. “Is there a problem?”

“Nae yet, but there could be.” Darren went to collect a clean shirt and sash, before he donned his belt and boots. “Me braither and his wife are here, and they’ve already learned that yer braither is a guest as well.”

Alayne winced and hurried into a skirt and blouse. As she turned to find a brush to tame her wild hair, Darren spotted a dark mark from their lovemaking at the edge of her throat. He cleared his throat, grinning as he did so. “Ye’ve a bit o’ a mark there,” he pointed.

Alayne’s hand flew to her neck, and she blushed. “If Donall sees…”

“He’ll ken that we’re a husband and wife, and have a healthy relationship inside the bedchamber.” Darren smirked.

“That’s nae the point,” her flush darkened.

Darren considered, then bent and shifted the pillows until he found what he was looking for. He held out the shawl he’d used the previous evening. “Use this tae cover it.”

“Darren!” Alayne gave him a wide-eyed stare. “I cannae…”

“And why nae? Nae one else will ken about last night.” He stepped closer, and looped the shawl over her shoulders. “It covers the mark, and it looks lovely on ye. But at the same time, every time I look at ye, I’ll remember last night. I’ll be able tae look at ye and think o’ ye, and ye’ll be able tae watch me and ken that I’m thinkin’ o’ how much I want ye.”

“Ye’re a proper beast, ye are, Darren MacLean.” Alayne stepped away from him, cheeks flushed, and began to brush her hair. Darren turned to finish dressing with a smirk on his face.

When they left the room she was still wearing the shawl, one eyebrow raised in silent acceptance of his challenge. Darren grinned and offered her his arm, and the two of them went down to breakfast.

It was just as well that he’d found something to amuse him before they descended, because they walked into the main hall to find a scene so tense it could have been mistaken for a dueling ground. Marcus and Erin were seated on one side of the main table, with Donall on the other side. Marcus was glaring daggers at Donall, one arm about his wife, and Erin looked as if she was one wrong word away from stabbing the man who’d once kidnapped her sister.

Donall, for his part, was obviously attempting to look as calm and non-threatening as possible. It was just as obvious that he was tense, his shoulders tight and his body poised to move if one of the others lost control and decided to attack him.

Darren sighed, and addressed his brother first. “Stop considering whether ye could get away with murderin’ him. Ye’d only get me thrown in gaol fer a breach o’ the king’s treaty. Besides, he’s nae the one who’s behind the mischief that’s plagued me o’ late.”

Marcus’s gaze flicked to him. “Ye’re sure?”

“Aye. Sure enough. We’ve had our talk and buried our grudges, and he’s a guest in me home, visiting his sister and getting the report on his clan afore he returns home tae take up his duties.”

“Ye may have buried yer grudges, but I’ve nae forgotten mine.” Erin’s voice was venomous.

“Then have it out with him in the sparring yard or a contest o’ yer choice. But please dinnae attack a man who’s both guest in me home, and kin-by-marriage tae all o’ us.”

There was a moment of tense silence as they all considered his words. Then Marcus sighed and squeezed Erin’s shoulders lightly. “All right. I’ll dae me best - we’ll dae our best - tae be civil. So long as ye dinnae expect us tae be friendly with him.”

“As long as ye’re civil. Speakin’ o’ which, let me make proper introductions fer ye, as ye couldnae attend me wedding.” Darren led Alayne a little more forward. “I present tae ye me wife, Lady Alayne MacLean, formerly Ranald, and her braither…” Donall rose and bowed. “Laird Donall Ranald o’ Clan Ranald.” He paused while Marcus and Erin also rose. “Laird Ranald, Alayne, I present tae ye me braither Marcus MacDougall, formerly MacLean, heir tae Clan MacDougall, and his wife, Erin MacDougall, eldest daughter o’ Laird MacDougall.”

Alayne curtseyed. “A pleasure tae meet ye both.” Donall, perhaps wisely, just dipped his head in a second greeting.

Marcus and Erin both mumbled a begrudging but fairly polite response, and all of them sat down as the servants, waved over by Adrian, Bard and Ryan, brought out the morning meal and drinks for everyone.

Marcus waited until they’d all been served before he spoke again. “So, now ye’ve told us what the trouble ye’ve been dealing with isnae, tell us what is. All we ken from Ryan is that there’s been some trouble, and ye were attacked.”

Breakfast was… difficult.

One the one hand, Alayne was delighted to once again be sharing a meal with her brother. It had been months since she’d been able to sit and eat with him, and she’d missed his presence beside her.

On the other hand, it was hard to ignore the veiled hostility from Marcus and his wife. It would have been under any circumstances, but Alayne had to admit, the worst part was trying to make any polite conversation with Erin MacDougall.

As the only other woman present, it fell to her to entertain the MacDougall lady, but Alayne found Erin’s cold demeanor toward her brother to be somewhat distressing. And even if that hadn’t been the case, Erin MacDougall was an intimidating woman.

She was, quite simply, everything that Alayne had never been, never been allowed to be, and in some cases, everything she’d never even considered wanting to be. Erin was a warrior, Alayne barely knew how to handle a small dagger in self-defense. Erin was tall, with a body made strong by regular exercise and skin tanned by hours in the sun. Alayne was shorter, smaller, softer in every way, her skin pale from spending the majority of her time indoors.

And what did they have in common to talk about? Erin apparently enjoyed things like combat and weapons. She was skilled enough and knowledgeable enough to contribute to the discussion about the dangers that threatened Darren. Alayne knew very little about such matters. Her interests and skills were more ladylike - sewing, herblore, gardening and the like.

Erin was confident and almost forward, for a lady. Alayne felt shy and nervous.

She was therefore very surprised when Erin turned to her and asked, quite candidly “Is Darren treating ye right? I ken ye have an arranged marriage, and ye werenae the best pleased, according tae rumors.”

Alayne blushed. “I wasnae very happy, ‘tis true. But Darren’s been a proper gentleman with me, and fair kind. I’ve nae complaints.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “So long as he’s a gentleman without bein’ a monk.”

Alayne felt her cheeks redden, her hand tugging the shawl tighter around her shoulders. Fortunately, she was spared from having to answer as Erin turned and punched her husband in the shoulder. “Marcus! That’s nae something ye ought tae be asking about?”

“Why nae?” He raised an eyebrow. “I was only thinkin’ tae offer her some friendly advice, if he’s being tae standoffish.”

“I dinnae need yer advice braither. Me wife and I dae quite well.” Darren’s voice was stern. “Start tae pry tae much, and I’ll start asking yer wife if ye’re behaving properly in the marriage bed, and if she needs some advice in how tae cool yer enthusiasm.”

Erin and Marcus both flushed, and Erin looked away. Marcus, on the other hand, looked slightly smug. Darren noted the expression. “Ye’ve something tae tell me?”

“Aye.” Marcus looped one arm around Erin’s shoulders and tucked her close, his other hand moving to cover her abdomen. “We actually came fer two reasons: Tae help ye with yer troubles, but also tae tell ye some good news.

“Aye?”

Marcus nodded, and a slightly shy, but highly pleased, expression lit his face. “Aye. Only a seven-day the healer confirmed that Erin is with child, carrying our first bairn.”

Any nerves Alayne felt around Erin disappeared in delight. “Och, that’s wonderful news! Are ye very far along?”

“More than a month, but less than a season, according tae the healer.” Erin smiled warmly, the awkwardness between them forgotten in the quiet delight and commiseration that only women could share.

“Ye’ll be needing some new dresses when ye’re further along, or so I’ve heard. I’m a dab hand with a sewing needle, I could make ye some comfortable things tae wear if ye like.”

To her surprise, Erin flushed. “Ye dinnae have tae…”

“’Tis nae difficulty. Ye can call it a late wedding gift, or a congratulation, or something o’ the sort.” Erin and Marcus had sent a wedding gift when the weather had made it apparent they wouldn’t manage to attend the wedding. “Or a gift fer yer day of birth or some other occasion if ye like.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Erin smiled wryly. “I’ve never been much fer needlework, and me younger sister is more interested in reading than sewing, though she’s more skilled than I.”

Alayne flushed, recollecting what she’d overheard about Lyla’s reading.

“Ye cannae be embarrassed about bein’ skilled at sewing and such. There’s naught wrong with being interested in such pursuits, so long as ye truly like them.”

“’Tis nae that…”

Erin studied her face, then rose. “Darren, we’d like tae celebrate with ye, a belated celebration o’ yer marriage and early celebration o’ our coming first babe.”

“I was thinking tae suggest the same.” Darren smiled. “I’d welcome the chance tae celebrate such joyous news with me kinfolk, nae matter what else brought ye.”

“Wonderful.” Erin smiled at Alayne. “Ye and I can take some time tae get tae ken each other while we help the cook plan fer a small feast this evening. Meanwhile, the menfolk can speak about other matters.”

For a moment, Alayne was tempted to decline. Then she gathered her courage. Erin was making an effort to be friendly, despite earlier hostilities between their kin.

For better or worse, they were kin-by-marriage now, and she’d far rather have an amiable relationship with Erin than a difficult one. And really, she’d always wanted a chance to have friends who were women. Her father had never permitted it, but Lyla had been kind to her, and she looked forward to seeing if she could develop some common ground with Erin as well.

“I like the sound o’ that.” She offered Erin her arm, and the two of them made their way toward the kitchens.

Erin waited until they were out of earshot of the menfolk before asking quietly. “Now then, why did ye turn so red when I mentioned my sister’s reading?”

Alayne made a wry face. “I never learnt much o’ the ways between men and women afore I was wed. Me maither died when I was too young tae ask her, and our healer wasnae interested in tellin’ me more than what tae dae fer me moon cycles. Or mayhap she was too scared o’ me faither.”

“Och, so when ye married…”

“Didnae ken what tae dae, or who tae ask. And then I happened tae overhear yer sister and her husband talking about something they were plannin’ on doin’ taegether… Darren told me later they got the idea from a book …”

“Och, say nae more.” Erin shook her head, sympathy on her face. “I ken well what ye mean. I’ve heard some conversations between me sister and her husband… well, if I werenae married tae Marcus, I’d never lose me blush. And I thought afore I wed that I’d run out o’ things tae be embarrassed about.”

Alayne blinked. “Why would ye be embarrassed?”

Erin laughed. “I was a warrior maid. Never cared tae learn aught about courtin’ or loving a man, until I decided I needed tae seduce… Darren tae seal an alliance between our clans. And because in our youth I thought I fancied him. I made a right fool o’ meself, and then I went and asked Marcus, o’ all people, tae teach me how tae be a seductress.”

“But… ye married Marcus, nae Darren?”

“Aye. Learned me lessons so well I seduced me teacher, and found meself seduced by him in turn. ‘Twas the most embarrassing thing I’d ever done in me life, I dinnae mind tellin’ ye.” The blush on Erin’s cheeks lent truth to her words.

Alayne laughed as well, and the two of them were still laughing as they entered the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, they had a feast planned, including favorites for almost everyone, while still being possible for the cooks to prepare with less than a day’s notice. The venison would be the most difficult, but still manageable, according to the lead cook.

As part of it, she and Erin decided to try their hands at making sweet pastries for their husbands. They were in the middle of gathering ingredients when Erin made a soft noise. “Och, I need tae put me wedding ring on its chain.” She fumbled with her ring, then removed a necklace to slide the ring on it. She met Alayne’s glance with a shy smile. “I cannae wear it when I’m training myeblade skills, so Marcus and I both have a second place tae wear the rings when we need tae take them off.”

It sounded like a good idea. Alayne set her ingredients on the table they’d chosen to use and moved to remove her own ring.

Her finger was bare. Alayne swallowed hard, her eyes widening as she looked at the place where her wedding band should be.

Somewhere, somehow, she’d lost her wedding ring. She closed her eyes, trying to remember where she was sure she’d had it on last.

“Alayne? Are ye well?” Erin’s concern interrupted her thoughts.

“Aye. ‘Tis only… I’ve lost my ring. I ken I’m supposed tae be helping ye, but I need tae find it.”

“Och, I understand completely.” Erin actually made a motion as if to push her out the door. “Go, find yer ring. I’ll be here, probably messing up the dough and exasperatin’ the cook, when ye return.”

Alayne breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank ye.” She turned and hurried to the door, still thinking hard about where the ring could be.

The study. Darren had taken her hand and toyed briefly with the band before he’d carried her to their rooms. So she’d had it then.

She’d start with the study, look to see if it might have slipped off in there, then retrace their steps to the bedroom. If she didn’t find it after she searched the bedroom, particularly around the bed, then she’d seek out Darren and see if he’d found it, or had some idea where it could be.

Alayne felt better once she had a plan. She picked up her pace, hurrying to the study in the hope that the ring would be easy to find, so she could rejoin Erin in the kitchens.

She heard the scuffling in the study, but she didn’t think much of it until she opened the door to find Adrian standing on Darren’s side of the desk, his hands flicking through the files with a furtive air. His eyes when they rose to meet hers were wide and shocked, filled with guilt.

Time seemed to freeze as Adrian registered her presence, and she recognized his. Then it occurred to her that if the men were having a war council, Adrian should have been with them. She stepped forward. “What are ye daeing here?”

She saw the moment he looked as if he would make an excuse, tell her something innocuous. She saw the moment he decided not to, as a sneer curled his lip, along with a look of loathing.

He was the threat they’d been unable to fight. The unknown assailant, the one behind the attacks and Darren’s kidnapping.

Alayne turned to escape, but she barely made it one step before Adrian grabbed her. One hand covered her mouth and nose, cutting off her ability to scream or breath.

The last thing she heard as darkness fell over her was Adrian’s voice in her ear. “Sorry, lass. Ye’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I cannae have ye babbling tae yer laird and ruining all me efforts tae become his trusted war leader.”