Chapter 10

10

Clan Business

W illiam leaned against the fireplace mantle and pinched the bridge of his nose. His body felt weak and his mind troubled. He knew he should pay attention to the bickering farmers before him. After all, they were his kinsman and under his guardianship, yet his mind was skipping back to Dakota every chance it got. He was barely able to pick up what the quarrel was between the two men.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t concentrate on the issue at hand. He turned on his heel and stared at the two gentlemen before him. They both shared the same expression of irritation. The man to his left, with his scraggly fiery red hair, rolled his shoulders back and puffed out his chest, making him look formidable. While the man to his right stood a good head lower and had a potbelly shifted his weight as his fingers itched at the hilt of the dirk on his hip.

"I’m telling ye they were mine. I marked them last spring. They have a brand on the right year of a hook."

"I’d seen no such marking."

"Are ye calling me a liar?"

"Aye, that I am. And who marks their sheep behind the ear? ’Tis the buttocks that ye need to brand. Makes it clear on who’s heard they belong to."

"Just because I don’t do it yer way doesn’t mean my way is wrong. Yer just trying to swindle me out of my stock. Ye’d been eying them since last spring when I outbid ye."

William listened as they squabbled. Their voices rose higher and higher, bouncing off the walls of the room, causing William’s head to pound. Moving to his desk, William kept his eye on the men as they stocked him with their eyes. He knew if he didn’t settle this matter promptly, one of them was bound to get testy. Lowering himself into his chair, William remained silent and waited for their bickering to end.

"Oh I see, ye think because the fact that yer lass is set to marry, ye have a right to my flock is that it? What’s the matter Jamison, ye cannae afford the dowry? So ye resort to stealing?"

"Ye and I both know my daughter isn’t of age yet. But I suppose it’s yer son’s ignorance standing numbers that makes them think that the flock is yers. That’s what this is all about isnae? Ye’ve got and ignorant child and ye daenae want to cop up to their mistake. I always knew ye were a bit daff, O’Brien, but I never thought that ye would stoop to this level."

O’Brien and Jamison both reached for their dirks and drew their blades on one another. William sat back in his chair and cleared his throat.

"How old are yer children?" William asked in such a soft tone that caused the man to pause in order to hear him. Their heads whipped around as their eyes widened.

"Come again?" Jamison said as he refused to lower his blade.

"What was that?" O’Brien asked as he arched an eyebrow but kept his hands steady with his dirk positioned at Jamison’s gut.

"How old are yer children?" William repeated as the men exchanged a quick glance with each other.

"What does that have to do with anything? This man here has called me a liar and a thief and I will nae tolerate it."

"And all nae have used stealing what’s rightfully mine and calling me a liar," Jamison said.

"Answer the question," William demanded in a soft growl. He headed up to his eyeballs with the two. And if he had listened to one more complaint, he was willing to cut them both off at the knees.

"My boy is at that tender age of manhood."

"So sixteen?" William asked.

"Aye, sounds about right," O’Brien said as he nodded .

"And yer daughter, how old is the lass?" William turned his attention to Jamison. Jamison recoiled his blade and slipped it back into its sheath as he stepped forward.

"If ye think I’m going to be giving my lass over to ye, yer sorely mistaken," Jamison said.

"That is nae my intentions," William answered coldly. "If it hasn’t become aware to ye I’ve already taken a wife. But seeing as how yer two families continuously give me a headache, I’d say would be wise to unite yer families under the banner of marriage. Seeing as how ye just confessed yer daughter is of age to marry, it seems the reasonable solution."

"I’ll nae hear of it," O’Brien gasped and stepped back, dumbstruck by the mere suggestion.

"Aye," Jamison said. "I’ll have to agree with O’Brien. There’s nay way I would take such a cantankerous woman under my roof."

"Very well if it’s nae marriage that brings ye two together, then I suggest ye combine yer flocks and divide them up equally," William said as he glared at the two men before him. He understood the men’s animosity towards each other, after all, the two families had been bickering since he was a child. But he knew if he didn’t find a way to settle their disagreements, no one would.

"And how is that fair? My herds have always been the largest. Kinfolk come to me all the time looking to breed their livestock with mine. And now ye want me to just hand over half to the scoundrel?" O’Brien said as he folded his arms over his chest.

"The way I see it is if ye both have the same amount then neither one of ye can be jealous of the other. I would also propose that the herd be separated by sexes, that way ye would have to use each other in order to multiply yer flock," William stated.

"That still doesn’t seem right," Jamison said. "Say I have all the males of the flock, and him with the females. When they meet it’s the ewes that give birth and only his flock will multiply."

"How many newborns does each ewe give?" William asked as he folded his fingers into each other and stared at the two men.

"Depends on the season I suppose," O’Brien answered. "Sometimes there’s just one other times there can be three."

"Then when ewe gives birth, the party with the males gets the first pick of the newborns. And should there be more than one birth at any time, they will be separated."

"And if there’s three born to one ewe?" Jamison asked as he arched an eyebrow, intrigued by the prospect of growing his herd.

"If a third is born it belongs to me," William said as he noticed something moving in the corner of his eye. To his surprise, he noticed Dakota walking through the door of the study. His heart tightened the moment he laid eyes on her. It was as if the world had stopped spinning in both his study and the two farmers before him disappeared before his very eyes.

William was no longer sitting in his study, but on the boulder down by the loch. His eyes remained glued to Dakota as she moved like a phantom haunting his dreams. She turned her head ever so slightly and, for a moment, their eyes met. It was one brief moment, but enough to send William’s heart into a wild flutter. All the order and regiment he had built up around him seemed to crumble like a sand castle against the wiles of the tide.

"What say ye Laird Rottrich?" The husky voice pulled William out of his thoughts. He blinked several times, trying to bring the room back into focus. Feeling disoriented, he leaned back in his chair. He’d always been in control of the situation in his thoughts, yet now he felt like everything was spiraling around him. He pulled in a deep breath and studied himself.

"Say again," he said as he cleared his throat.

"We wish to bring the herd here and have it divided," O’Brien said as he glanced at Jamison. It didn’t go unnoticed to William that they had questions lingering on the tip of their tongues. But he knew they would never express them out loud. At that moment, William understood all too well the kind of power Dakota had over him. She was more than just a pretty face drifting through his home; she was a distraction.

"Aye, then do it. But I’ll tell ye right now if there is another squabble between the two of ye that is brought to my attention, I’ll see that yer daughter and yer son be married at once," William threatened. "At least then I’ll know for certain that yer families will not go against each other again. And if ye so praise both of yer children with such high esteem, I would suggest the both of ye find a way to bury the hatchet."

O’Brien and Jamison nodded and turned to one another. William watched as they spat in their hands and shook on the new agreement. Relieved that one problem had been resolved, William couldn’t help but wonder if another was rearing its ugly head. He sat in his chair as the two men walked towards the door. But it wasn’t the man he was watching; it was Dakota.

She had an air about her that caused his skin to tingle and the hair on the back of his neck to rise. His stomach twisted in knots as he thought about the different ways he could approach her. Never in his life had he been so tongue-tied and nervous about speaking with the woman. Yet here he was, mulling over the right words to say to her.

"M’Laird?"

William grunted and leaned back with a disgusted look when he saw Mrs. Portsworth standing before him. How she had slipped by without him noticing astonished him. William couldn’t help but blame Dakota for the distraction. He swallowed hard and tried to hide his disdain for his lead housekeeper. After all, she had been working for the family since before he was born and to show her any disrespect would be unthinkable. She was practically an aunt to him.

"Aye? What is it that ye need?" William asked as he shuffled papers around on his desk, trying to find his balance. Ever since Dakota stepped into his home, things had been muddled, and he couldn’t think straight.

"I’ve come to report that we need new curtains in the library," she said as she stepped closer to the desk.

"Very well. Is there anything else?"

"Aye," she answered a bit too quietly. William looked up from his paperwork and glared at her. She was never one to mince her words, nor was she one to be tongue-tied, yet the way that she approached him was unusual and a bit standoffish.

"Out with it then."

"Perhaps we could gather a bit more firewood for the rooms? After all we do have another body in the house and another room to tend to."

"Make it so," William said with a wave of his hand.

"And the cook would like to know what it is ye want for dinner."

"Roasted duck," he answered as the thought of the succulent meat of the duck caused his mouth to water. A rumble in his stomach made him realize that he hadn’t had much to eat.

"Very well, I will tell the cook to get on that."

Mrs. Portsworth stood before him, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. She didn’t say anything, just merely stared at him, and her gaze was intimidating and unnerving. There is no doubt in his mind that she had more to say but was merely waiting for permission to do so. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy sigh.

"What is it? Ye never linger, which is one of the things I like about ye. So out with it and be done. I have work to do and don’t need ye loitering about."

"Perhaps it would be best if ye delegate chores to yer new wife. She is, after all, the lady of the house, and I’ve caught her multiple times moping about."

"And what would ye have me do about that? Do ye suppose she cooks? Or mends? Ye have doors for her to do them, by all means, give them to her. It makes no difference to me what she does or how she spends her days."

"Do not think that it’s best for ye to show her around? She is after all a stranger in a strange land. And ye are her husband now."

"Aye, I am her husband, but I am not her guide. Nor do I have time for childish things. If the lady wishes to paint give her paints. If she wishes to read and show her the library, it matters not to me."

"My point being, M’Laird, is that ye are married now. And while ye may think that this marriage is one of convenience there are still certain formalities that must take place."

William leaned back in his chair and rubbed the stubble on his chin. He didn’t know whether or not he wanted to scold her for reprimanding him or give his ear to hear more of what she had to say.

"What formalities are there and left to establish? She is my wife and she knows it. I am also aware that ye have explained to her the need to keep things as they are. I will not have her turn my home into something that I do not recognize."

"Aye, of course, but perhaps ye would consider having dinner with her. Make her feel a bit more welcome to hear what she does. As yer lead housekeeper, it is not my duty nor my responsibility to entertain yer wife."

"So that’s what this is all about, entertainment? Fine if ye think that I should sit with her during our meal time, then so be it. Now if ye don’t mind I do have other things that I must attend to. And seeing as how ye are my lead housekeeper, I would expect ye to be able to answer any questions the mistress has about where she belongs and what it is that she can and cannot do."

"Aye, as ye wish," Mrs. Portsworth said as she bowed and gave a short curtsy before exiting the room.

William ran his fingers through his hair and stood. "Mrs. Portsworth!" he called.

A moment later, the housekeeper came shuffling back into the room.

"M'Laird?"

He moved swiftly to the fireplace and watched the flames lick the log. Part of him wanted to ride in the country and escape the madness clawing at the edges of his mind. But dark clouds billowed in the distance as he turned his attention towards the window . He knew he wouldn’t be able to get far enough away to clear his head before the rains came.

"How am I supposed to be able to uphold the clan and my duties if I am constantly being distracted?" he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, M'Laird?"

Turning his attention away from the fire to the painting of his father above the mantle, he dropped his shoulders in defeat. His mind raced over all the advice his father gave him as a young lad, but nothing his father said could prepare him for what he was dealing with now. Sure, there was some advice that served him well over the years, one in particular, he could recall was how he should never let his emotions get the best of him. Yet there was no doubt in William’s mind that that was exactly what was happening to him. Ever since Dakota stepped into his life, the little things have started to crumble around him.

"Me faither always was able to handle things with such ease, wasn't he?"

"Aye, he was, but yer makin' yer way too, M'Laird."

But how does one extinguish the flames of passion? When all I really want to do is be consumed by them?

Dakota wasn’t the one he was supposed to marry. It was supposed to be her sister, the homely, plain , brunette. Instead, he got the bold and daring, blond-haired, blue-eyed seductress.

"How do people become immune to illnesses or poisons?" asked the Laird.

"I'm nae quite sure I'm followin' ye."

"One must be desensitized by them. Perhaps if I spend more time with the lass, she will not—"

Transfix me!

"I shall take care of the lady," announced the Laird.

William charged out of the study, determined to find Dakota. He scrambled past the servants and felt their sideways glances as he passed. Pushing through the doors of the library, he scanned the room, expecting Dakota to be sitting near the bay window. When she wasn’t there, he circled the room, hunting in every nook and cranny. When he found himself back at the doorway, he flexed his jaw.

"Where could she possibly be?" he mumbled to himself. Turning, he made his way through the hallway to the side door. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he’d find her out in the garden, but when he went out, she wasn’t there. Frustration ran deeper than he wanted to admit. After all, he’d spent nearly all day avoiding her, and now that he wanted to see her, she was gone.

Soft muttering caught his ears and he whipped his head toward the stables. Three of his men came walking out as they chatted amongst themselves. William didn’t think they would have seen her, but the thought of her disappearing led him to only one conclusion, she must have fled.

"I should have paid better attention to what she was doing," he said under his breath as he stopped the stablemen.

"M’Laird," they said in unison.

"What are ye doin’ out here? Do ye nae see the clouds coming in?" William asked as he realized it would cause too many rumors amongst the staff if he admitted to losing his bride.

"Aye, we were just finishin’ up in the stables. Yer horses are cared for and all is well," they said.

William pursed his lips into a tight line and arched an eyebrow. "Where is Cameron?"

"Around back," they said, pointing to the courtyard. William bolted around the corner of the castle, hoping his actions didn’t cause too much suspicion. The moment he caught sight of Cameron, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Daenae ye look like the cat that swallowed the canary," Cameron teased as William came up to him. "What’s got ye so flustered? Been having a go with the Mistress?"

"About that," William whispered. "I’m looking for her. Have ye seen her?"

"Aye, last time I caught eye of her, she was in the kitchen."

William smiled and gave Cameron a solid pat on the shoulder before moving swiftly to the vegetable garden. When he saw the wooden door leading to the kitchen, he stopped. A strange feeling came over him as he studied the door. It wasn’t an unusual door by any means, but the fact that he’d see her on the other side of it made his palms sweaty.

As he walked to the doorway, he mulled over what he was going to say. Pushing through the doorway, he kept his eyes down.

"M’Laird," The cook's voice was filled with shock. "Dinner will be served soon enough. Is there somethin’ ye need from me?"

Slowly and carefully, William lifted his head. There she was, sitting at the long table in the center of the room. Dakota shot to her feet and dropped the roll she had been nibbling on. She gave a curtsy as he approached her. Knowing all eyes were on him, he kept all emotion off his face.

"M’Laird," Dakota said. Hearing her delicate voice caused his skin to tingle. He wanted to reach out for her and hold her in his embrace. Wrestling with his want for her, he straightened.

"What’s this?" he demanded as he noticed the plate of food beside her. "Are ye nae eatin’ wit’ me?"

"I didnae ken that was what ye wanted me to do," she said as her eyes shifted to the staff in the kitchen.

"Yer my wife are ye nae?"

"I am," she said a bit timidly.

"Then ye will dine with me."