Authors: Lisa Dawn Wadler
Ian hands rose to cover his face and pull the hair at his scalp. His fate was sealed. The dowry promised was needed more than ever. Any hope he may have carried in his heart died. Looking across the table, he was amazed at how Claire had the courage to deliver this. He wondered when her hope had died.
“There is a bit of good news. It doesn’t quite balance what I just told you, but it may help.”
“At this moment I will take anything.” Ian’s voice seemed flat, even to his own ears.
“If you look at your rents, you bring in a fair amount here. Now it all goes where it should. The livestock is doing well and should produce a decent wool crop this fall. Your accounts are currently okay. Provided the harvest is good, this winter will be easy to manage even if it is a hard one.”
“Do you truly believe this?”
She offered a smile for the first time since Ian entered the room. “I know so. Have a look for yourself.” Claire showed him the numbers as she spoke. “The coin due to you now comes to you. Every week I would like to sit with you and go over the books. After what you just saw, it may help to be the one who does the final entries and the counting and . . .”
Without waiting for her to finish, he said, “There is trust between us. I will not argue that I should spend more time here handling my duties. We will meet as is needed, and we will review things together.”
As her posture relaxed, she said, “I’m glad you feel that way. Besides, I need the job, remember?” She offered a small smile at the comment.
“The job is still yours, for as long as you wish. Is there more?” Ian prayed silently there would be no more.
“I do have one more thing. This one confuses me a bit.” She pulled yet more documents into view. “You used to collect rents and profits from a mine. As far as I can tell, it was part of your mother’s dowry. When your parents married, it was quite profitable. Over the years, the production slowed, but a nice sum was still paid once a year. It has been almost three years since a payment was made.” Making sure to capture Ian’s full attention, Claire said, “Someone owes you coin.”
“Finally, fine news.” Ian studied the papers and ledger before him, wondering again how he knew nothing about any of this. “Did the man Bryan steal this as well?”
“I don’t think so. The payments stop before his handwriting takes over. He may have never noticed it was missing.”
“He did not have your attention to detail.” She flushed over this compliment. “‘Tis possible the mines stopped producing and notice was never received here.”
Claire took the ledgers from him and found the correct entries. “It’s possible I suppose but doubtful. The amount had gone down for several years, but that changed two years before payments stopped. The amount had been doubling, not getting smaller. There is something here worthwhile. It may not pay the taxes, but it would more than cover the costs of a weak harvest.”
Ian studied the ledgers. “You speak truth as always, Claire. This land is a good two days’ ride from here,” Ian’s voice stopping as he saw the lands in his mind. “‘Tis very near to where we met. ‘Tis an odd fact.”
He could see her mind absorb the oddity before she asked, “Do you think there may be a connection?”
Thinking about the implications, he said, “‘Tis hard to say. I will see to sending some men to investigate.” Claire rose to come stand by his side, and the pain in his heart returned.
“Then my work is done for now.”
Rising to stand before her, Ian asked, though he knew the answer, “‘Tis all finished?”
“For the moment anyway. Now that things are caught up, it should be a simple matter to keep them up to date. I believe the next big task comes in when . . .” Claire’s eyes shifted away from his to find his chest, “Until it is time to log the dowry and see to the tax payment.”
The only sound heard came from the crackle of the fireplace and their breathing, the reality of what must be changing the mood. Without thought, Ian’s hands pulled Claire into him, wrapping her in a soft embrace, holding her against him as his face rested on her hair. He was grateful when her arms found their way around his waist. For a while, this simple embrace said it all.
With Claire in his arms, he felt everything he wanted in life evaporate. No longer would his nights be filled with their conversation and laughter. The images that haunted his thoughts of when he could carry her to his bed left his heart in a painful rush. His fate was set in stone. Claire would never be his wife.
In a voice meant only for her ears, he said, “All this while I had hope, sweet Claire. I carried the hope that your skill would find the funds I needed to stop what has been set in motion. Someway you would succeed where I had failed. Instead, my failure to do the work before me has left me trapped. I had hoped to be able to choose and to offer what I wished in my heart to have. Do you ken what I am saying to you?”
“I believe you had mentioned wishing to wed with the Campbells.”
In a flash, her face was in his hands, forcing Claire’s eyes to meet his, giving her a full view of his heartache. “Dinna play games, not now! Not about this.” He felt her try to pull away from his grip, but refused to let her go. “Answer me, Claire, do you ken what I have told you?” Not getting any response, Ian growled, “If you dinna answer me, I will speak of everything, everything I hold inside. I swear I will tell you of the thoughts that keep me awake at night. Every want and desire will be shared with great detail. Do you wish to hear it all?”
Claire answered as her eyes closed. “I heard you, Ian, and I know what you said.” Immediately the touch was soft as his hands held her, pulling her once again against him, wrapping her within his embrace.
Holding Claire for as long as he dared, he knew he had to let go. Against her head, Ian whispered, “You will never ken how sorry I am.” Placing a soft kiss against her hair and releasing her, Ian left.
Chapter 12
Claire wasn’t sure how long she stood alone in the study. Ian’s scent still filled her senses, though her body was now cold without his warmth wrapped around her. The dull ache that filled her chest daily had become a sharp pain. She needed to leave this chamber or the heartbreak would cripple her.
Commotion upstairs drew her attention as she wandered the hall with no true goal in mind. She hoped there was something distracting up there. Women scurried in and out of the chambers, some with stacks of linens, while others carried pails and cloths.
Spotting Neala in the corridor, she asked, “Can I help with something?”
Neala smiled at Claire. “I am surprised to see you up here, ‘tis early. Do you need a break from the accounts, child?”
The use of the word “child” still made her smile. “Well, I’m done for the moment, things are up to date. With all of the noise I thought maybe you could use some more hands.” She noted the commotion of the women in the corridor. “What is going on up here?”
“The chambers need to be readied for the bride, her father, Tavis, and the men of rank he will bring with him. Extra hands would be a blessing today.” Without waiting, Neala led Claire into the chamber across the corridor from Ian’s own.
Stepping inside, she was quick to note it had to be one of the best rooms in the keep. Not quite as nice as Ian’s, but certainly as large. This one also boasted a large fireplace with better chairs strewn with pillows and a table between the two. She noted the bed was large. Even if the frame was not ornate, it was beautiful. The window held a view to the side yard where she liked to play with Cerwyn, and the ocean was just past that. The room had obviously been cleaned, and the fresh air from the ocean breeze scented the space. Turning to find Neala, she said, “It’s lovely in here.”
“I agree, ‘tis a fine chamber. Normally it is saved for the use of high-ranking guests. Never would I have believed the purpose for which it shall be used.” Neala shook her head in disgust. “If you stand on the far side of the bed, we can make quick work of this task.”
Moving as directed, Claire grabbed an end of the linens. “Why would it be bad for the bride to be here? Wouldn’t she be given a nice place for when she first arrives?”
“Of course she would be offered a comfortable, fine chamber. The fact that this is to be her chamber for the rest of her life ‘tis the part I take issue with. Hand me the pillow, child.”
While doing as told, Claire asked, “What do you mean the rest of her life? Don’t married people here share a room? I mean, Hagan and Aliana do?”
I’ve known from the beginning that whoever she is, she would share his chamber. Ian spoke of such things.
With a sigh, Neala continued, “The laird gave the order himself. This chamber is to be prepared for his wife. When I questioned Ian about this, he said that there is no illusion this marriage is to be a joyous one. He assumes this arrangement will be as most are, empty.”
Claire felt the burden of this weigh down her steps. Ian had spoken so eloquently of all the things he wanted for his life, yet now expected none of them to happen. Closing her eyes, she wasn’t sure what was worse, him living like that or having to watch him do it. “I don’t know what to say.”
Neala was finishing making the bed and gauging her reaction. “Ian did not speak of this to you?”
Surprised by the question, Claire retorted, “Why would he?”
“You two spend your evenings talking, and I thought maybe you had more answers than I do,” Neala responded.
Looking around the room while avoiding Neala’s gaze, she said, “We’ve talked about a lot of things, the subject of his marriage, well . . . we . . . it’s never come up.”
“Forgive me, ‘tis foolish of me to think it would have.” Neala gazed around, seeing everything in the place she would have it. “This chamber is fine. There are more beds to change if you still wish to help.”
The two moved quickly, readying another five rooms before they reached the last. “Come, child, help me straighten Ian’s chamber, and then we are finished with the beds.”
Walking into this now familiar place, Claire thought it somehow seemed a bit empty without Ian. Moving without thought to the table by the fire, she saw the cups from last night were still there and the unfinished chess game sat waiting.
“You did nay finish last night?” Neala followed Claire’s motion to the table.
The voice of the other woman pulled her back to the moment. “No, we didn’t. I think we were talking more than actually playing.” They had sat and talked for hours, as usual. She remembered how the conversation had been easy and comfortable with plenty of laughter.
“‘Tis a fine way to pass the night.” It was Neala’s only remark as she straightened the chamber.
Turning to see Neala and smiling at the choice of words, Claire said, “That’s exactly what Ian says.”
They each stood on a side of the bed and began working together to change the linens. Never had she ever focused so hard on such simple work. Simply the smell of him in the room and even on the sheets drove her senses crazy. The sound of horses from the window provided a welcome diversion. She could see Ian, Hagan, and a few others mounted and leaving through the gates. “Where do you think they are going?”
“The sun is shining. They may be off to hunt, to check on a matter, or mayhap to enjoy a day in the saddle.” Placing the furs back on the bed, Neala requested, “Hand me the pillows, child.”
Doing as she was told, Claire asked quietly, “Neala, can I ask you a question?”
“I told you when we met I am here for you. Always ask what you would.”
“How soon after the bride arrives will the wedding take place?” Not having the nerve to face Neala with the question, Claire kept her eyes on the pillows as they were moved into place.
Answering in a matter-of-fact tone, Neala said, “I dinna ken exactly. There are most likely negotiations to finish. When things are agreed upon, it will happen quickly.”
Trying hard not to show anything other than curiosity, Claire asked, “How long does it take for the priest to arrive?”
Neala tilted her head, taken aback by her question. “No one has explained this to you? In all the tales you have heard, I am surprised this one was left out. Sit in the chair, and I will tell you all.”
Moving to her usual seat and finding the comfortable spot right away, Claire sat, waiting for yet another tale.
Facing her, Neala began, “You will never find a priest on these lands. Dinna mistake me, the clan has a fine love of the church and its words, but not its men. The first laird of the Draig, the very one who conquered these lands, made verra clear to his children to keep this rule. ‘Tis said that a man pretending to be a priest kidnapped and nearly killed his wife. Since that time things have been done according to the ways of the clan. So there will be no priest for the ceremony. Ian and his bride will make their vows before the clan, and the contracts are signed. In the morning, a sheet is hung in the hall. The Draig marriages have always been this way. You will find most clans have their own ways.”
Stunned was her only thought.
Just a few public words and a contract?
No, don’t go there, not now.
Trying to clear her thoughts, Claire asked, “So everyone here marries like this?”
“Aye child, ‘tis the way of things. The village has never complained about these ways, though in the village a contract is not necessary. That is reserved for the laird alone. The men and women who serve this land exchange their words, and the sheet is hung outside the door the next morn.” Neala added, “Dinna doubt me when I say that most of the time ‘tis merely a bit of wine that marks the sheet.”
If Claire could have crawled away at that moment, she would have. She felt the heat of her blush cover her face and burn her ears. “Thank you for the tale, Neala. As always, it was a fine one.”
Neala answered with a smile. “Now you ken more of the ways here. Let us hope the bride who comes is as understanding. I have been told that she has spent the last ten years living in a convent.”
Claire asked, “Ten years in a convent? Why?”
With a sigh, Neala continued, “Again, it can be the way of things. For some clans ‘tis how they raise their lasses. The goal is to keep them biddable and chaste so they can be wed for the gain of the clan.”
Gain of the clan
?
This phrase resonated through Claire’s mind. It was very clear what the Draig clan would gain with this union.
What did the other laird gain?
Neala’s rising broke her thoughts. “We have been idle long enough. Take hold of the linens while I grab these cups. These things all belong elsewhere. Let us see to it.”
Bending to grab the sheets from the floor and moving to follow Neala to the laundry area downstairs, Claire indulged in a deep inhale of Ian’s scent that permeated the sheets in her hands.