Temptation in a Kilt (16 page)

Ciaran was breathless with rage, but he swallowed hard, trying not to reveal his anger. The lass was distraught enough. He did not want to add to it. Leaning forward, he intertwined their fingers. “Nay one should ever touch ye that way, Rosalia. What she did wasnae right. I know of men who beat their women into submission, and I think your mother is nay different. She wanted ye submissive. What I donna understand is how your father turned his eye. Ye are his only daughter.

“I donna understand how ye can say ye are weak and a coward. Lass, ye have more courage than most men. Ye cut your tresses and dressed as a lad. Ye were battered and bruised, riding Noonie for many miles before ye passed out from the pain. Ye are a courageous woman, Rosalia. I only wish I knew how to take away your pain,” he said softly.

“I am hoping in time my dreams turn to faded memories. I donna enjoy reliving the moments time and again. It feels as if I am still there.”

Ciaran rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “Ye are safe. No one will touch ye while ye are within my walls.”

She smiled her thanks. “I am frightened this will always be a burden for me to bear. I just want to find peace. I want to find… me.”

“And I hope I am able to help ye with that. Take all the time ye need, lass,” he said, smiling at her with compassion.

“Ye have heard enough of me. Please tell me of ye, my laird.” Abruptly, she changed the subject.

“Me?” Sitting back in the chair, Ciaran was surprised by her request. No one had ever asked him to speak of himself. “And what would ye want to know of me?”

“Tell me more of your family.”

He rubbed his brow. “My father and mother loved each other verra much. They raised us to be honorable men. I cannae say Aiden and I didnae cause our fair share of mischief, but Father raised us to be able to eventually take his place as laird while Declan was kept under Mother’s wing. At nay fault of my father. He did what he thought best. Declan was the third son, even though we ne’er made him feel that way. Father made Declan train with us and tried to mold him, but when he took nay interest, Father didnae pressure him to do so.”

Rosalia smiled in understanding. “That gives some reason why Declan acts—”

“As an arse?”

“Well, that wasnae exactly what I was going to say.” She chuckled.

“Declan wasnae always as he is now. Nae until Mother died. He and Mother became verra close. Father was busy training Aiden and me, and Declan would be with Mother. She loved us all, but we know she favored Declan. Mayhap she tried to intervene because Father spent so much time with Aiden and me. It is difficult to say. After she died, Declan kept to himself. He didnae want to speak with any of us, nay matter how hard we tried. He started whor—er… wenching and getting into his cups.”

Ciaran ran his hands through his hair. “It was as if he was trying to destroy himself along with Mother. We all told him that Mother had died and he hadnae, but he wouldnae listen to reason. Father tried to help him but couldnae.”

“That had to be difficult for all of ye. Nae only did ye lose your mother, but ye had to watch Declan lose himself,” she said quietly.

“Aye. We hoped when Aiden and Aisling wed that Declan would try to find a lass and wed himself, but he wants naught to do with seeking a wife.”

There was a heavy silence.

“And what of ye, my laird? Ye ne’er thought to seek a wife?”

Leaning forward, he grabbed her hand. “’Tisnae as if I havenae thought of it, especially as of late…”

“Ciaran, my apologies. I loosened my tongue too much. I had nay right to—”

“Shh… Ye should know the truth.” He paused. “I made a promise to Father before he died that I would set Declan on a clear path. Father felt he’d failed my brother and made me give my word I would help him. I didnae realize that promise would be a battle of wills. I cannae break my vow. To be truthful, it has ne’er caused me too much concern until now. Rosalia, I cannae wed until—”

She stood and placed her hand to his lips. “Shh, my laird. We agreed nae to speak of such things and to enjoy our time together.”

He nodded his head in consent.

“’Tis late. I thank ye for the comfort, Ciaran.”

He pulled himself to his feet and raised his hand, placing an unruly lock of hair behind her ear. “I am here for ye, lass, if ye need me for anything.” Ciaran brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead. Pulling away slowly, he smiled. “Get sleep. I shall see ye in a few hours.” He gave her one last glance before he closed the adjoining door.

Knowing sleep would not come now; Ciaran approached his desk and lit a candle. He penned a missive, confident in his strokes. He did not need to compose much, knowing what he had to write. Completing his task, he stretched out his back. Placing the MacGregor seal into the melted wax, he breathed a sigh of relief.

It was done.

His chamber brightened with the golden hues of the peeking sun, making him realize he had not slept at all. No matter, he would send the missive by special messenger this morn to Glengarry—well, as soon as the messenger was awake.

Rosalia descended the stairs to break her fast, still smiling at the gift that had been placed upon her chair early this morn. She thoroughly enjoyed being able to bare her soul last eve to Ciaran. As she remembered their conversation, she prayed he did not think her daft. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was some foolish chit. After all, she was not a delicate flower. She just needed someone to offer her comfort and he was a wonderful listener. She was comforted by the fact that James was not the only man she could speak with openly.

As she approached the dais, Ciaran was already breaking his fast with Aiden. Odd, Declan and Aisling were not in attendance. Aisling was probably with Teàrlach, and Rosalia hoped Declan was not cowering somewhere recovering from a night of debauchery.

Both men stood upon her approach.

“And how are ye this morn, sweeting?” asked Ciaran.

She was startled not only because the endearment was spoken, but because it was expressed so freely in front of Aiden. She cast Aiden a nervous glance, but he just smiled and went back to his meal as though nothing were out of the ordinary. “I am well. And ye, my laird?”

He kissed her on the cheek and heat rose in her features. Pulling out her chair, he whispered closely, “I would think after last eve ye would call me Ciaran.”

Turning another shade of crimson, Rosalia sat down on the chair.

“I left something for ye this morn. Did ye get it?” he asked softly.

“Aye,” she whispered back, trying desperately to remove the color from her face.

“I thought ye might want another one for mayhap when we ride again or if ye wish to wear it to bed.” He cast a roguish grin. “After all, ye donna want to wear out my other tunic. The one I left ye was recently made.”

Her eyes started to stray to her hands, and she forced herself to look him in the eye. “Ye have my thanks.” Rosalia paused, touching him gently on the arm. “Ciaran, about last eve…”

“What about last eve?” slurred Declan, staggering to the table.

When Ciaran grunted, she thought it best to redirect. “Aiden, where is Aisling this morn?”

“She is with Teàrlach,” he mumbled, throwing looks of displeasure at Declan.

“Hmm… And what do ye do this day, my laird?” Rosalia asked Ciaran as Declan tumbled into his chair, knocking over a tankard.

“Before or after I battle with Declan?” Ciaran spoke through gritted teeth. Leaning forward, he narrowed his eyes at Declan. “Break your fast. Then we practice swordplay with the men in the bailey.”

Ignoring him, Declan took a leisurely drink from his tankard. When Declan turned his head, Ciaran was annoyed to see how glassy his younger brother’s eyes were. “But my great liege, I already practiced my swordplay yestereve.” Declan nodded to two serving wenches who were giving him smoldering glances from across the hall. “
Twice
, I do believe
.
Howbeit ye will be pleased to know they said I mastered it verra well,” he said arrogantly.

Ciaran and Aiden sprang to their feet, flanking Declan. They moved so quickly that Rosalia jumped. Hauling Declan forcefully from his chair as if he only weighed as much as a mere bairn, they shoved him in the direction of Ciaran’s solar. The hall went quiet as everyone gawked at Declan being abducted while breaking his fast. Rosalia only prayed there would not be bloodshed.

After finishing her meal alone, Rosalia went in search of Aisling. She did not need to look far. The sounds of Teàrlach’s screams were piercing as Aisling descended the stairs. “Good morn,” Aisling said loudly, closing her eyes in an apparent attempt to bear the sound of Teàrlach’s shrill screams. “I take him outdoors for a walk. I cannae promise it will be soothing, but ye can come along if ye want.”

“Of course,” said Rosalia, rubbing her hand over his tiny curls.

Aisling bounced him gently in her arms, and when they reached the bailey, Teàrlach stopped crying almost immediately. “Ye see? He has Aiden’s stubbornness already.” She cocked her head and raised her brow. “Well? Come now. Tell me all of what occurred with Declan this morn.” When Rosalia gave her a questioning gaze, Aisling smiled. “Anna. She tells me all.”

They leisurely made their way toward the stable. “It wasnae good. Declan could barely stand when he came to break his fast. Ciaran told him after his meal that he would need to practice his swordplay with the men, and I do believe Declan said he had already practiced his swordplay with two serving wenches—
twice
.” She cringed and Aisling sighed. “Aiden and Ciaran dragged him away. To Ciaran’s solar, I believe. I donna know what occurred after that. I didnae really want to stay and find out.”

Aisling kissed Teàrlach on the head. “Och, Declan has done it now. He doesnae listen to anyone. I wonder if Aiden and Ciaran finally beat some sense into him. ’Tis up to them now. There is naught we can do.” Aisling studied her for a moment and smiled. “Ye seem lighter of heart this morn. Could it have something to do with a certain laird?”

“It may be possible,” Rosalia said. Even her walk had a sunny cheerfulness.

Aisling grinned. “I am joyful to hear it. Do ye want to go and fetch your cloak?”

“Nay, I am fine,” she said, shaking her head.

Aisling stopped. “Rosalia, do ye
have
a cloak?”

She was silent for a moment. “Ye will think me daft, but nay, I donna. When I took my leave, I took only clothes to travel and blankets. I didnae—”

“It doesnae matter. Ye are in the Highlands and ye will need a cloak. I will see to it.”

Aisling had given her so much already—they all had. “I already have your gowns. I cannae accept—”

“Ye can and ye will. Come,” Aisling said in an authoritative tone, leading her back indoors.

***

Ciaran thrust Declan into his solar and slammed the door while Aiden pushed Declan further into the room and shoved him unwillingly into a chair. Aiden took a seat in the opposite chair as Ciaran sat behind his father’s desk. Briefly closing his eyes, Ciaran took a deep breath before his ire got the best of him.

“So why the silence, your worship? Now I have to wait the same as a wee lad until ye are ready to give me a scolding?” Declan smirked.

Ciaran’s eyes flew open and he was just about to kill his brother when Aiden sprang from the chair, pulling up Declan by the tunic. “Ye go too far, Brother. If Father were still alive—”

“Aye, but he isnae,” said Declan sarcastically.

Aiden punched him square in the jaw.

Ciaran flew from his chair, rounded the desk, and pulled them apart. Shoving them forcefully into their own chairs, he then sat on the desk between them. Aiden rubbed his hand as Declan rubbed his jaw. What would his father have thought at such a sight?

“Declan, for once ye are correct. Father isnae here, which means I am laird and I
will
be obeyed. Ye are still my brother and my responsibility. I willnae continue to watch ye drowning yourself in yer cups and destroying everything and everyone around ye.” Ciaran spoke in a voice that demanded attention.

“Nor will I,” Aiden concurred.

“So what do ye say, Ciaran? Just speak the words ye are holding back,” Declan bit out, leaning casually in the chair.

Ciaran glanced at Aiden, and he nodded his head in silent confirmation. “As your brother, I cannae stand by and watch ye continue to destroy yourself. The gods have taken Father and Mother, but they havenae taken ye—at least, nae yet. If ye donna straighten your path, ye willnae be far behind them. How can I continue to watch your back when ye donna watch your own?”

He paused as Declan studied him intently. “As of now, ye will cease drowning in your cups. Ye will cease wenching within my walls. Ye will practice your swordplay daily with the men, and ye
will
straighten your path.”

His brother yawned, stretched his legs out in front of him, and crossed his feet at the ankles. “And if I donna?”

“Ye are on your own—removed from my walls with only the clothes upon your back. Before ye speak, think upon this. Ye are my brother, my blood. I cannae watch ye continue on this path ye have chosen. Ye care for nay one. Ye made this mess and only ye can clean it up. ’Tis all your choice, Brother. I only hope ye choose wisely. Make nay error in judgment, Declan. I am your brother, but foremost, I have a duty as laird. I will be obeyed and willnae be made the fool in front of my men.” His voice rang with command.

“Declan, Aisling and I have tried to help ye. We
want
to help ye, but we cannae if ye donna even try to help yourself. Ciaran is right in this matter and he has my agreement. If ye donna cease, ye are on your own, Brother,” Aiden said tersely.

There was a heavy silence.

Declan rose. “Well, ye two have obviously decided my fate.”

“Nay, Declan. Ye make your own fate,” Ciaran countered. “I will see ye in the bailey with the men.”

“So I am simply being dismissed, your greatness?” Declan walked leisurely to the door and turned around. He gave a forced smile and a tense nod of consent. “I will meet ye in the bailey.”

When the door closed, Ciaran and Aiden visibly relaxed. “Do ye think he heard ye?” asked Aiden with concern.

“I donna know. I hope for his sake that he did.” Ciaran ran his hand through his hair. “I donna know how Father handled such things.”

Aiden laughed. “Ye donna think he felt the same as ye when he was laird?”

He shrugged. “I donna know.”

“Ciaran, he had three sons. Ye donna remember the trouble we caused Father? How could ye forget my wenching ways before Aisling? Ye yourself had quite the appetite for the lasses. And let us nae forget one of the many times when ye were in your cups and placed your kilt around your horse,” he chuckled. “I also recall the first time
ye
were a drunken sot and were caught by the blacksmith taking liberties with his daughter. Father had a lot of explaining to do. I am sure he felt the same as you do. Ye will know more of the same when ye have a son. Speaking of—”

Ciaran scowled. “Donna start with me, Brother. Declan will be on a clear path soon enough, even if I have to strap him down and hold him on it.”

“And Rosalia will wait until that time?” asked Aiden, raising his brow searchingly.

“Rosalia knows I made the vow to Father.”

“How verra understanding of the lass.” Aiden chuckled. “Ciaran, will ye take advice from a man that has been wed?”

Ciaran held up his hand to silence Aiden, but his brother simply waved him off. He would have to remind him again soon who was laird.

“I donna care what ye speak. I give it freely. Love doesnae happen often in a marriage, and when it does, ye grab hold with both hands and donna let go. I see ye care for the lass. Why donna ye wed and be done with it? Surely ye donna plan to take her to Glengarry. Ye promised Father to see to Declan, but ye didnae say ye would wait to wed.”

Ciaran slumped down into the chair next to Aiden and sighed. “We have been through this, Brother. It was understood.”

“By ye or by Father? He would ne’er ask ye to wait to wed.”

They sat silently for a long time. The lines of awareness deepened along Aiden’s brow and under his eyes. Ciaran knew he was deep in thought. This could not bode well for him. He was about to stand to escape Aiden’s lecture, but his brother spoke before Ciaran had the chance to flee.

“Think upon this. Your duty as laird is to beget a legitimate heir. The only way to accomplish that task is to wed. And I think ye are sorely lacking in your responsibilities as of late.” Aiden folded his arms over his chest. “I bet ye ne’er thought of it that way, aye?”

Ciaran sat back, shook his head, and moaned. “Why do the gods grace me with such brothers? One pains me in the arse and the other pains me in the head.”

“Promise me ye will think upon it or my wee wife will be keeping me up all eve speaking of ye. Surely ye can understand that I donna want to be speaking of
ye
in my marriage bed, Brother. I donna want to be
speaking
at all.”

Rising, Ciaran held up his hands in surrender. “Cease, Aiden. I donna want or need to know what ye and Aisling say or donna say in your marriage bed. Besides, I thought she cursed ye out of her bed.”

Aiden shrugged, giving him a sheepish grin. “It wasnae exactly
me
she cursed out of her bed. It was my—”

“And that is another reason why I donna rush to wed,” Ciaran said, laughing.

***

Aisling gave Rosalia a cloak that was too small, but at least it matched her shortened gowns and would keep her warm. Why did she have to have her father’s height? When she reached Glengarry, she would need to seek proper attire. She did not want to embarrass her
seanmhair
. As Rosalia walked through the bailey, she saw that Declan had joined Ciaran and Aiden with swordplay. Apparently, everyone had survived the confrontation in one piece. When she reached the stables, she scanned the area but did not see Niall. She enjoyed his company. He had a warm and caring personality that reminded her of Duncan.

Noonie stomped his feet and whinnied upon her approach. She reached out and rubbed her hands on his sleek black coat. “And how are ye this morn, Noonie?”

“What an interesting name for a mount.”

Whipping her head around, Rosalia saw Beathag walking toward her with a sly grin. “He is a fine beast.”

Rosalia shifted her weight, trying to center her attention on Noonie. “Aye.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Beathag continued to study her intently, but Rosalia refused to display her nervousness. Attempting to keep her focus on her horse, she would not give Ciaran’s former leman the satisfaction of knowing how entirely uncomfortable she felt.

“What are ye doing here?” Beathag asked, her tone coolly disapproving.

“I see to my horse,” she remarked, pleased at how indifferent she sounded.

Beathag’s eyes narrowed. “Nae that. Why are ye here at Glenorchy?”

To Rosalia’s dismay, her voice broke slightly and she stammered in bewilderment. “I only stay until ’tis safe to travel to Glen—” she paused. It was probably not the best idea to advise Beathag of her plans.