Authors: Lisa Dawn Wadler
Chapter 10
Claire walked the corridor with Aliana, while both hoped Cerwyn would fall asleep. As Claire watched the woman next to her, it was anyone’s guess who was having the worse night. She could see the exhaustion and frustration on Aliana’s face. Claire finally said, “Hand him over to me. You need to go to bed. I can walk with him until Hagan comes up.”
“I should say nay but will instead bless your kindness. This new bairn I carry has made me so tired.” She settled Cerwyn into Claire’s arms. “Shhh, sweeting, Larry has you now.”
Cerwyn curled into Claire as he rested his head on her shoulder. His sleepy voice said, “Hair Larry, want hair.”
“Cerwyn wants your hair to hold. Do you mind?” Aliana waited for permission and then undid Claire’s hair. Cerwyn immediately grabbed a handful and settled in. “I ken he is spoiled, you need nay tell me.”
Claire walked as she answered, “I don’t mind about the hair, but I do mind about the Larry thing.”
Aliana laughed. “I will nay encourage it any longer then.” They continued walking the corridors, waiting for exhaustion to take over. “There is something I would ask you.”
Suddenly a bit uncomfortable, Claire asked, “What is it?”
Does she know, too?
“I ken we dinna speak of these matters, but how do the affairs of the clan stand? Does my brother truly need to wed? I am still holding out hope that he will cancel this arrangement and marry the Campbell’s daughter. Hagan tells me to leave it alone, but Ian is my only brother, and it would be fine to see him settled with a bit of happiness.” Aliana finished with a heavy sigh.
“Well, I’m not done with the books yet, but it does not look promising. I’ll know more when I figure out the taxes. When I have more information, I will tell you myself.” Her curiosity was too much, and Claire couldn’t help but ask, “Ian mentioned the Campbells and a potential marriage there. What was your thought on the woman?”
“I have only met her briefly, but Dedre is a bonnie thing and from a fine, respected clan. She would have fit in here well and has been raised to be able to manage a keep of this size. In all ways I can think of, she would have made a fine Lady Draig. My brother would have been pleased to have her by his side. They would nay have had what Hagan and I share, but I believe they would have been happy. Mayhap you will find something in the books that was missed, and talks with the Campbells could resume?”
Trying not to choke on her reply, Claire said, “I will try my best and keep you well informed, I promise.” Cerwyn was still awake and irritable on her shoulder. “Go to bed. You’re barely awake. I have him tonight.”
With a look of hope, Aliana quickly replied, “Only if you are sure it is not asking too much. Hagan should be up shortly to take him from you.” Aliana gave Cerwyn a quick kiss to his head, and then Claire was alone.
Talking softly to the child, she said, “Why do I ask questions I don’t want answers to, Cerwyn?”
The child’s only reply was, “Walk, Larry, walk.”
Claire kissed his small head as she turned to walk back down the corridor. “Shhh, I’m walking, you sleep.”
She walked back and forth for what must have been an hour before the child fell asleep. The sound of men coming up the main stairs caught her attention. If they had been any louder, they would have waked Cerwyn. She walked to the top of the stairs. As Ian and Hagan landed on the second floor, her look said it all. Both men walked toward her softly.
“I am grateful, cousin, you managed to get this one to sleep. ‘Tis no small task.” Hagan bent and gently removed the sleeping child from Claire’s arms.
“Don’t move yet. Cerwyn still has a handful of my hair.” Ian untangled the fist of the sleeping child. She held her breath when he smoothed her hair down her back.
Ian and Claire were abruptly left standing in the corridor as Hagan left with the sleeping child. Looking at Ian quickly, she said, “Thanks for your help with my hair.” She started to turn toward her chamber.
“Do you play chess, Claire?” Ian’s voice stopped her steps.
“Sure, there’s an app for that.” She laughed at the joke and then at Ian’s confusion. “I mean, I do, not very well, but I know how to play.”
“Mayhap you would join me in a game?” Ian’s voice echoed more than a simple question.
Claire smiled. “That sounds fun. Let me know when.”
Ian’s quick reply ended the vague possibilities. “How about now? ‘Tis nay so verra late, and it would be pleasant to pass the time this way.”
There was no mistaking the urgency in his voice as the invitation was issued. Claire knew she should have hesitated, but she didn’t. “Chess it is then.” Ian’s whole face brightened at her response, forcing a smile in return.
Eyeing Neala in the corridor, Ian asked, “Would you fetch us some wine?” Not waiting for a reply, Ian led Claire to his chamber, lightly touching her back as they walked. “The board is here, ‘tis more comfortable than sitting in the hall. Have a seat by the fire.”
All movement paused as Claire entered the chamber. The room was much larger than her own and even bigger than the one Hagan and Aliana shared. Most of the other furnishings in the keep were simple, almost utilitarian, but this place held the exception. The fireplace came up to her waist, and the chairs in front of it were large, covered in furs, and held pillows to rest against the wooden arms. The table between held the chessboard with space for more. The far wall held the biggest bed Claire had ever seen, which was also covered in furs. The frame was carved with a dragon head at each end that covered the entire headboard. Even the four posts were carved in the same pattern. By each side of the bed were small tables. Ian moved throughout the room lighting candles, another luxury. The chest for his clothing was at the footboard. Unlike her chamber, the washbasin sat on its own table. This was a room made for a laird.
“Wow,” the word escaped from Claire’s mouth before she could stop it, and she felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment. “I mean, this is a lovely chamber. Well, maybe lovely is not quite the right word but it’s very nice.” Now she felt foolish.
You don’t call a man’s room lovely.
The uncomfortable realization hit her hard.
I shouldn’t be here. He talked about his chamber before, that night at the inn, and the bed really is covered in fur.
Ian saw her flush as her words stumbled and her eyes took in the chamber and stared at the bed. In his mind, he could see Claire lying on the furs, her hair spread around her sweet face as she reached for him. This image was nothing new to him. It was the same one that haunted his dreams every night. He felt his body tighten in longing even as he sought to shake away the tormenting image. “I am glad the chamber pleases you, please sit.”
Taking the other chair, Claire made herself comfortable. She tucked her legs at her side and rested her arms on the pillows against the arms of the chair. Her hair spilled to one side as she leaned to study the board. He clenched his hands into fists to prevent himself from reaching out to touch its unbound lengths.
“I’ve never seen a board like this one before, handmade. Do you know who created this?” Claire held the wooden pawn in her hand, marveling at the smooth texture. The game pieces were not white and black; some were dyed extremely dark, and the others were bleached pale. The board was done in stone, again dark against light. Ian knew it was a work of art and found pleasure that she saw it the same way. Claire finally looked up at him.
The wonder and curiosity on her face were such a breathtaking combination. Her hand explored the game piece, and he remembered the pleasure her fingers had brought to his skin. “That I do,” Ian finally answered. “‘Tis a fine tale, do you wish to hear it?” He vowed he would tell her every tale he had ever heard if it meant she would be near.
“I’ve noticed everything seems to involve a story.” Claire put the piece down and began to appreciate the fur covering her seat, her fingers running through the soft fur.
He held in a groan as she caressed the furs. His body remembered the feel of soft hands on his back, and he forced his mouth to respond to the comment. “Aye, lass, there is. ‘Tis the way of things.”
“What is the way of things?” asked Neala as she entered with pitcher and two cups.
“That everything has a story.” Claire answered, as the woman approach.
“That there is, child. When you have finished with the books and spend your time with me, I will tell the ones I ken.” Neala’s comment was offered with kindness, not reproach.
Ian glanced up at Neala. “The accounts will keep her busy for some time.”
Neala responded with a small laugh. “Nonsense, we are all aware she is almost caught up from the mess you left. I told her I would teach her some of the things she should ken how to do in this place. Claire needs to ken how to care for a household.”
Ian wanted to say that this was not needed; there were plenty of lasses here to manage the laundry, the cooking, and the rest of life’s tasks. He knew that Neala was preparing Claire for a home of her own; someday she would marry and need to handle a household. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. A large gulp of wine did not erase the unwanted images.
“Ian was going to tell me where the chessboard came from.” Claire’s words were clearly meant as an explanation and a shift in conversation.
Ian knew she could feel the tension from him. Her posture was now more alert. It was awkward; they both knew what Neala was saying without it being said. Their time together was going to be short lived. It was probably meant as a reminder for both of them.
“Now that is a fine one. Enjoy the tale and your game,” Neala said while reaching to touch Claire’s hair. “When you wake, I will help you wash out whatever the wee one has gotten in your hair. See you at first light, child. I will leave the door open in case you have further need of me.”
Shifting position slightly in the chair, Claire reached to touch the bottom edge of her hair. “She’s right, I’m a bit sticky.”
Ian laughed. “I will not tell a soul. In truth, your hair does nay look anything but fine.” She flushed at the compliment.
Holding his lingering gaze, Claire asked, “Who moves first?”
Taking another sip of wine, he said, “You begin, and I will start your tale.” Ian saw the pawn begin the match and smiled as Claire reached for the cup of wine.
This is what an evening should be,
Ian mused,
quiet conversation before the fire, a moment to be relished.
“The set was made by the war chief of my great-grandmother’s people. It was given as a gift to my grandfather when he was a young lad.”
There was awe in Claire’s voice. “This is almost too old to play with, and in my time, this would be considered an antique.” She answered his silent confusion. “We tend to put older things away and out of use so we don’t break them.”
“Then we would have no game tonight.” Ian could only stare as she studied the board then marvel as she captured his knight. “Well played, lass.” He moved to threaten her bishop and smirked as she frowned at the move.
“So it’s going to be that kind of game, is it?” Claire raised her eyebrow in challenge, causing him to laugh. “That wasn’t much of a story.”
“That was not the story, just how the game came to my hands. The tale lies in my great-grandmother, Samantha. My ancestor, Faolan, met her and her warriors on the road as he traveled home. ‘Tis said that upon meeting her he tried to trade his dagger for her.”
Claire looked up in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me. Are you saying your great-grandfather tried to buy a woman he just met?”
“I ken it a strange tale. They say Faolan was so moved by her beauty that he acted without thought.” Never before had Ian understood the compulsion that set this story in motion until now. The fire played in Claire’s hair and warmed her face, and the light from the candles made her soft brown eyes shine bright. That her mind matched her beauty was unfathomable.
To trade a cherished dagger for such a woman, what man would not?
“What happened? Did they sell her?” The curiosity was evident in Claire’s question.
“Nay, her war chief was acting as leader, sheltering her. When the offer was made ‘tis said Samantha rose to take charge and belittled my ancestor for being a fool. Raiders then attacked the two parties, and she saved my ancestor’s life in battle. She and her men were brought here as honored guests.”
Claire asked with wide eyes, “If Faolan had acted so badly, why in the world would she go with him?”
This was the part of the tale that concerned him. He didn’t know how she would react. “They were in need of shelter. The band of warriors had traveled a great distance and almost a thousand years.” Ian waited as Claire started to understand what was said and saw the moment his meaning took hold.
The color drained from her face. Ian handed her the cup and helped her take a drink. “I told you that there were tales of others when we met. I hoped such a story would bring you comfort. Truly, I did not mean to upset you.”
Claire reached over the game and touched his hand. “You didn’t upset me, it’s all just so . . . so . . . so your great-grandmother was from my time?”
Ian turned his hand to hold hers in his grip and felt her soft skin against his palm. He was left only with cold when she pulled away. “So the tale goes.” Touching his chest where the clan tattoo resided, offering a smile as he spoke, “‘Tis also said she bore his mark on her skin.”
Claire stared at where his hand rested. “She had the same tattoo?” Her voice held only wonders as she asked the question.
Her fingers touched and rubbed together. Knowing she thought of the minutes her hand had traced his mark, Ian said, “Aye, Claire. ‘Tis said that she was a warrior and also very wise. She and her men were responsible for rebuilding the keep in stone.”
With a soft laugh, she said, “It does explain some things. I wondered about the hot water system for the baths and the somewhat conventional kitchen, and it’s a lot cleaner here than I expected, given when we are.”
“‘Tis true. I have been to many another keep and am always shocked by the filth that surrounds them.” Ian waited as she made the next move.