Page 5 of The Secret (Highlands' Lairds 1)
No one said a word for several minutes. Then Gelfrid stood up. The palms of his hands rested on the tabletop when he leaned forward to glare at lain. âYou are advisor here, nothing more.â
Iain shrugged. âIâm your laird,â he countered. âBy your vote,â he added. âAnd I now advise you to honor my brotherâs word. Only the English break their pledges, Gelfrid, not the Scots.â
Gelfrid reluctantly nodded. âYou speak the truth,â he admitted.
One down and four to go, lain thought to himself. Damn, he hated having to use diplomacy to get his way. He much preferred a battle with fists than with words. He hated gaining anyoneâs permission for his or his brotherâs actions, either. With an effort, he controlled his frustration and focused on the matter at hand. He turned his attention back to Graham. âHave you become an old man, Graham, to be so concerned about something as insignificant as this? Are you afraid of one English woman?â
âOf course not,â Graham muttered, his outrage over the mere possibility apparent in his expression. âIâm afraid of no woman.â
lain grinned. âIâm relieved to hear this,â he replied. âFor a minute, I did begin to wonder.â
His cunning wasnât lost on the leader of the oligarchy. Graham smiled. âYou dangled your clever bait and my arrogance reached for it.â lain didnât remark on that truth. Grahamâs smile was still in evidence when he turned his attention back to Frances Catherine. âWe are still confused by this request and would appreciate it if you would tell us why you want this woman here.â
âHave her tell you why they both have two names,â Vincent interjected.
Graham ignored the elderâs request. âWill you explain your reasons, lass?â
âI was given my motherâs name, Frances, and my grandmotherâs name, Catherine, becauseââ
Graham cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand. He continued to smile so she wouldnât think he was overly irritated with her. âNo, no, lass, Iâm not wanting to hear how you came by two names now. Iâm wanting to hear your reasons for wanting this English woman here.â
She could feel herself blushing over the misunderstanding. âLady Judith Elizabeth is my friend. I would like her to be by my side when my time comes to deliver this baby. She has already given me her word that sheâll come to me.â
âFriend and English? How can this be?â Gelfrid asked. He rubbed his jaw while he worried over that contradiction.
Frances Catherine knew the elder wasnât deliberately baiting her. He looked genuinely puzzled. She didnât believe anything she could say would make the elder understand. In truth, she didnât believe Patrick truly understood the bond she had formed with Judith so many years ago, and her husband wasnât nearly as set in his ways as Graham and the other elders were. Still, she knew she was going to have to try to explain.
âWe met at the annual festival on the border,â she began. âJudith was only four years and I just five. We didnât understand we were . . . different from each other.â
Graham let out a sigh. âBut once you did understand?â
Frances Catherine smiled. âIt didnât matter.â
Graham shook his head. âTis the truth, I still donât understand this friendship,â he confessed. âBut our laird was correct when he reminded us that we do not break our pledges. Your friend will be welcomed here, Frances Catherine.â
She was so overcome with joy, she sagged against her husbandâs side. She dared a quick look at the other council members then. Vincent, Gelfrid, and Duncan were smiling, but Owen, the elder sheâd believed had slept through the questioning, was now shaking his head at her.
Iain noticed that action. âYou donât agree with this decision, Owen?â
The elder kept his gaze on Frances Catherine while he answered. âIâm in agreement, but I think we should give the lass fair warning. She shouldnât be getting her hopes up for naught. I stand with you, lain, for I too know from my own experiences that the English canât keep their pledges. They follow their kingâs habits, of course. That scoundrel changes his mind every other minute. This English woman with two names might have given Patrickâs wife her promise, but she wonât be keeping it.â lain nodded agreement. Heâd wondered how long it would take for the council to come to that same conclusion. The elders were all looking much more cheerful now. Frances Catherine continued to smile, however. She didnât seem to be at all worried that her friend might not keep her promise. lain felt a tremendous responsibility to protect each and every member of his clan. Yet he knew he couldnât protect his sister-in-law from the harsh realities of life. She would have to suffer this disappointment alone, but once the lesson was learned, she would surely realize she could only count on her own family.
âIain, who will you send on this errand?â Graham asked.
âI should go,â Patrick announced.
lain shook his head. âYour place is with your wife now. Her time draws near. Iâll go.â
âBut youâre laird,â Graham argued. âItâs beneath your stationââ
lain wouldnât let him continue. âThis is a family matter, Graham. Since Patrick canât leave his wife, I must see to this duty. My mindâs set,â he added with a frown, to discourage further argument.
Patrick smiled. âIâve never met my wifeâs friend, lain, but I can well imagine that when she sees you, sheâll have second thoughts about coming here.â
âOh, Judith Elizabeth will be pleased to have Iainâs escort,â Frances Catherine blurted out. She turned to smile at her laird. âShe wonât be at all afraid of you. Iâm certain. I thank you, too, for offering to go on this journey. Judith will feel safe with you.â
lain raised an eyebrow over that last remark. Then he let out a long sigh. âFrances Catherine, Iâm just as certain she wonât willingly come up here. Do you want me to force her?â
Because she was staring at lain, she didnât see Patrick give his brother a quick nod. âNo, no, you mustnât force her. Sheâll want to come to me.â
Both Patrick and lain gave up trying to caution her against getting her hopes up. Graham politely excused Frances Catherine from the meeting. Patrick took hold of her hand and started for the doors.
She was in a hurry to get outside so she could hug her husband and tell him how pleased she was to be married to him. Heâd been so . . . magnificent when heâd stood up for her. Sheâd never doubted that he would, of course, but she still wanted to give him the praise she thought heâd want to hear. Husbands needed their wifeâs compliments every now and again, didnât they?
She had almost reached the top step to the entrance when she heard the name Maclean mentioned by Graham. She stopped to listen. Patrick tried to tug her along, and so she kicked off her shoe and motioned for him to fetch it for her. She didnât care if he thought she was clumsy. She was too curious to hear what the discussion was about. Graham had sounded so angry.
The council wasnât paying her any attention. Duncan had the floor. âIâm against any kind of an alliance with the Dunbars. We donât need them,â he added in a near shout.
âAnd if the Dunbars form an alliance with the Macleans?â lain asked, his voice shaking with fury. âGet your head out of the past, Duncan. Consider the ramifications.â
Vincent spoke up next. âWhy must it be the Dunbars? Theyâre as slick as wet salmon and as sneaky as the English. I canât abide the thought. Nay, I canât.â
lain tried to hold on to his patience. âThe Dunbar land sits between the Macleans and us, I would remind you. If we donât align ourselves with them, they could very well turn to the bastard Macleans for protection. We canât allow that. Itâs simply a choice between bad or worse.â
Frances Catherine wasnât able to hear any more of the discussion. Patrick had put her shoe back on her foot and was once again nudging her along.
She forgot all about praising her husband. The minute the doors closed behind them, she turned to Patrick. âWhy do the Maitlands hate the Macleans?â
&n
bsp; âThe feud goes way back,â he answered. âBefore my time.â
âCould it ever be mended?â
Patrick shrugged. âWhy do the Macleans interest you?â
She couldnât tell him, of course. Sheâd be breaking her promise to Judith if she did, and she would never betray that confidence. There was also the telling fact that Patrick would have heart palpitations if he ever found out Judithâs father was Laird Maclean. Aye, there was that consideration as well.
âI know the Maitlands are feuding with the Dunbars, the Macphersons too, but I hadnât heard about the Macleans. That is why I was curious. Why donât we get along with any of the other clans?â
Patrick laughed. âThere are a few we call friends,â he told her.
She decided to change the topic around to the praise she wanted to give him. Patrick walked her back to their home, and after giving her a long kiss in farewell, he turned to go back to the courtyard.
âPatrick, you do realize my loyalty belongs to you, donât you?â his wife asked.
He turned back to her. âOf course.â
âIâve always considered your feelings, havenât I?â
âYes.â
âTherefore, if I knew something that would upset you, it would be better for me to keep silent, wouldnât it?â
âNo.â
âIf I told, it would mean breaking a promise to someone else. I couldnât do that.â
Patrick walked back to stand directly in front of his wife. âWhat are you trying not to tell me?â
She shook her head. âI donât want lain to force Judith,â she blurted out, hoping to turn his attention away from the talk about old promises. âIf she canât come here, he mustnât use force.â
She nagged Patrick into giving his word. He reluctantly agreed, just to please her, but he had no intention of keeping his pledge. He wasnât about to let the Englishwoman break his wifeâs heart. Lying to Frances Catherine didnât sit well, though, and Patrick frowned over it all the way back up the hill.
As soon as lain came outside, his brother called out to him. âWe have to talk, Iain.â
âHell, Patrick, if youâre going to tell me about another promise youâve given your wife, Iâll warn you now, Iâm not in the mood to hear it.â
Patrick laughed. He waited until his brother reached his side, then said, âI want to talk to you about my wifeâs friend. I donât care what it takes, lain. Drag her here if you have to, all right? I wonât have my wife disappointed. She has enough to worry about with the baby coming.â lain started walking toward the stables. His hands were clasped behind his back, his head bowed in thought. Patrick walked by his side.
âYou are aware, arenât you, that if I force this woman, I could very well start a war with her family, and perhaps, if the king decides to take an interest, a war with England?â
Patrick glanced over to see what his brother thought about that remote possibility. Iain was smiling. Patrick shook his head. âJohn wonât involve himself in this unless he can gain something from it. Her familyâs going to be the problem. They certainly wonât just let her leave on such a journey.â
âIt could get messy,â Iain remarked.
âWill that matter?â
âNo.â
Patrick let out a sigh. âWhen will you leave?â
âTomorrow, at first light. Iâll talk to Frances Catherine tonight. I want to know as much as possible about this womanâs family.â
âThere is something Frances Catherine isnât telling me,â Patrick said, his voice halting. âShe asked me about the feud with the Macleans . . .â
He didnât go on. lain was looking at him as though he thought heâd lost his mind. âAnd you didnât demand she explain whatever the hell it is sheâs keeping from you?â
âIt isnât that simple,â Patrick explained. âYou have to be . . . delicate with a wife. In time sheâll tell me what sheâs worrying about. Iâll have to be patient. Besides, Iâm probably jumping to conclusions. My wifeâs worrying about everything these days.â
The look on Iainâs face made Patrick sorry heâd mentioned Frances Catherineâs odd behavior.
âI would thank you for going on this journey, but youâd only be insulted.â
âThis isnât a duty I embrace,â lain admitted. âIt will take seven or eight days to reach the holding, and that means at least eight back with a complaining woman on my hands. Hell, Iâd rather take on a legion of Macleans single-handedly than suffer this task.â
Iainâs bleak tone of voice made Patrick want to laugh. He didnât dare, of course, for his brother would only bloody his face if he so much as cracked a smile.
The two brothers walked along in silence for several more minutes, each caught up in his own thoughts.
Patrick suddenly stopped. âYou canât force this woman. If she doesnât want to come here, then leave her be.â
âThen why the hell am I bothering to go at all?â
âMy wife could be right,â Patrick rushed out. âLady Judith Elizabeth might willingly come here.â
lain gave his brother a hard glare. âWillingly? Youâre out of your mind if you believe that. Sheâs English.â He paused to let out a weary sigh. âShe wonât willingly come here.â
Chapter 2
She was waiting on her doorstep.
Lady Judith had been given advance warning, of course. Two days before, her cousin Lucas had spotted the four Scottish warriors just a stoneâs throw away from the border crossing near Horton Ridge. Lucas hadnât been there by chance, he had been diligently following his aunt Millicentâs instructions, and after nearly a month of twiddling his thumbs and daydreaming the early summer evenings away, heâd spotted the Scots. Heâd been so surprised to see the full-blooded Highlanders, he almost forgot what he was supposed to do next. Memory quickly returned, however, and he rode at a dust-choking pace all the way to Lady Judithâs remote holding to tell her sheâd best prepare herself for the visitors.
There hadnât been much for Judith to do to ready herself. Since the day word had reached her through the intricate gossip vine that Frances Catherine was expecting, sheâd had most of her baggage packed and all of her friendâs gifts wrapped in pretty pink lace ribbons.
Frances Catherineâs timing certainly could have been better. Judith had only just returned to her uncle Tekelâs holding for her mandatory six-month visit when the message arrived. She couldnât pack up and go back to her aunt Millicentâs and uncle Herbertâs holding, for to do so would raise questions she wasnât about to answer, and so she hid her baggage and her gifts up in the loft of the stable and waited for her mother, who was home on one of her rare stopovers, to grow bored and leave again. Then she would broach the topic of her journey into Scotland with her guardian, Uncle Tekel.
Her motherâs older brother was a soft-spoken, mildmannered man, the complete opposite in temperament from his sister, Lady Cornelia, unless he was drinking. Then heâd turn as mean as a snake. Tekel had been an invalid for as many years as Judith could remember back, and in the early years he rarely lost his temper with her, even in the evenings when the pain in his misshapen legs became too much for him to endure. Sheâd know about his discomfort when heâd start rubbing his legs and ask one of the servants to fetch him a goblet of hot wine. From past experience, the servants had learned to bring along a full jug. Some nights Judith was able to sneak away to her own chamber before her uncle became abusive, but other nights he would demand that she sit by his side. Heâd become quite melancholy and want to hold on to her hand while he talked about the past, when heâd been young and fit, a warrior to be reckoned with. An overturned cart had crushed his knees into grains of sand when he was but twenty and two years in age, and once the wine dulled his pain and loosened his tongue, he would rail against the injustice of that freak accident.
Heâd rail against Judith, too. She didnât let him know how much his anger upset her. A knot would form in her stomach and wouldnât go away until sh
e was finally dismissed for the night.
Tekelâs drinking got much worse over the years. He began to demand his wine earlier and earlier in the day, and with each gobletful he consumed, his disposition would change more and more dramatically. By nightfall he would either be weeping with self-loathing or screaming incoherent insults at Judith.
The following morning Tekel wouldnât remember anything heâd said the night before. Judith remembered every word. She desperately tried to forgive him his cruelty to her. She tried to believe that his pain was far more unbearable for him than it was for her. Uncle Tekel needed her understanding, her compassion.
Judithâs mother, Lady Cornelia, didnât have any compassion for her brother. It was a blessing that she never stayed home more than a month at a time. She had very little to do with Tekel or her own daughter even then. When Judith was younger and more easily hurt by her motherâs cold, distant attitude, her uncle would comfort her by telling her she was a constant reminder of her father, and her mother had so loved the baron that she still, after all these many years, mourned his passing. When she looked at her daughter, he said, the ache of her loss would well up inside her, leaving little room for other emotions. Because Tekel hadnât been drinking so heavily back then, Judith had no reason to doubt his explanation. She didnât understand such love between a husband and wife, though, and she ached inside for her motherâs love and acceptance.
Judith had lived with her aunt Millicent and uncle Herbert the first four years of her life. Then, on her first real visit with her uncle Tekel and her mother, she accidentally referred to Uncle Herbert as her papa. Judithâs mother went into a rage. Tekel wasnât overly pleased, either. He decided she needed to spend more time with him, and ordered Millicent to bring Judith to his holding for six months each year.
Tekel was repelled by the idea that his niece would consider Herbert her father. For that reason he set aside an hour each morning, when his mind wasnât muddled with wine, and tell her stories about her real father. The long curved sword that hung over the hearth was the very sword her father had used to slay the dragons who dared try to snatch England away from the rightful king, and her noble father had died protecting his overlordâs life, Tekel would tell her.