The Angel and the Highlander (17 page)

L
achlan paced in front of the fireplace in the great hall. A fire kept the chill and dampness out, the weather still proving temperamental, though the rain had stopped leaving behind overcast skies.

He had shared breakfast with his family, having intended to see if Alyce would join them, but Zia advised against it. She cautioned that Alyce needed rest after such a strenuous journey.

He heeded her advice and now waited for her to wake, everyone having left him to go about their daily duties.

Champion suddenly pounded in the room followed by his dog Princess, though her entrance was more of a royal prance. Addie followed them in.

Lachlan bent down to what most masters would expect, an exuberant welcome. Not so Princess, she sat regally in front of him expecting him to welcome her, which of course he did.

“Where was she yesterday, Mother?” Lachlan asked.

“Hiding from the storm,” Addie explained. “You know how she hates storms.”

As if Princess knew they discussed her, she raised her chin as though annoyed that he hadn’t realized that.

“It appears that I have two females in my life who want things their way,” Lachlan said, rubbing beneath her chin, just where he knew she favored. “Or is that all females, Mother?”

Addie pointed to Princess who had inched closer to Lachlan and was now cuddled against him as he continued to stroke her. “I’d say you have a way with knowing exactly what a woman wants and will soon have her melting to your touch.”

“I was always confident of that until…”

“You fell in love?” his mother asked.

Lachlan nodded. “Love changes everything.”

“It certainly does,” his mother agreed.

“You do things you don’t expect to do. Act a fool. Worry endlessly. Argue senselessly and yet…” He shook his head.

“You wouldn’t do without each other for a moment,” Addie said.

“Not one moment do I want to spend without Alyce,” Lachlan admitted. “Though you probably wonder why when she was not very pleasant to you or the others yesterday.”

“Love does not always come easy or gently. Sometimes we deny it, or fear it for reasons we don’t understand ourselves, but in the end love conquers even the most foolish heart.”

Lachlan stood and hugged his mother. “You always know what I need to hear.”

“More of a reminder,” Addie said with a smile. “What are your plans for the day?”

“I thought to show Alyce our cottage.”

“I think she would like that,” Addie said. “You and she need time together.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Lachlan said and suddenly looked forward to the day.

Alyce obstinately kept her joy to herself. She was thrilled with the cottage that Lachlan had made ready for them. It was much larger than she had expected with a separate room off the common room and a loft, and a garden plot right alongside the house. And it was far enough removed from the keep to afford them privacy, something she yearned for at the moment.

“It will do,” she said when truly she wished to throw herself in Lachlan’s arms and thank him for this gift.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said cheerfully. “It gives us room for a large family of our own, and of course I can always enlarge it if necessary.”

His sincere joy had her smiling. With a good night sleep and feeling herself once again she felt safe succumbing to his charm, and besides she loved that about him. The way he could smile and find pleasure in the simplest of things.

“You intend a large family?” she asked.

“Only if you agree.”

He gave her a choice and that was unlike most men, but then after last night and meeting his family, she realized that the Sinclare brothers were unlike most men.

Alyce found herself being honest with him. “I wouldn’t mind a large family.”

Lachlan walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. “We agree on something.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she teased with a grin while her stomach rumbled loudly.

Lachlan laughed. “Hungry?”

“Actually, yes,” she said, though it had been only a couple of hours since she had eaten.

“Then let’s get you fed and then we can gather your things from my no-longer-necessary bedchamber and move them here.”

She liked the idea, making this cottage their home, though she refused to admit it.

They entered the keep and had the table before the hearth to themselves, the room otherwise empty.

“What do the women do all day?” Alyce asked after sitting at the table and surprised to see a servant girl ready with a pitcher of cider and a plate of bread, meat, and cheese.

Lachlan sat across from her reaching for a hunk of cheese. “Zia is busy at her healing cottage. My mother and Honora sometimes help her but most of the time they are busy running the keep, seeing to the babes and stitching.”

“I don’t stitch,” Alyce said as if she admitted a great sin.

“Honora and my mother, with help from some of the women in the village, do most of the necessary stitching. You needn’t worry about it.”

But she did, for what would she do all day? She
had loved her busy life, and she couldn’t grasp doing nothing. With winter near upon them and the garden dormant, there was no planting to see to. She could string a fine bow, but who here would allow her to do that. She was good at settling disputes, but that was Cavan’s duty. She was good at preparing meals, each woman having taken her turn, but here there were servants to do that, and she loved planting and tending the fields, but she had a feeling her kitchen garden would be the only land she would be expected to tend.

The partially open door creaked open more and in walked Princess with a haughty raise of her chin.

“My dog Princess,” Lachlan said as the animal walked over to Alyce. “And her name suits her well.”

Princess sat in front of Alyce and stared at her.

“She wants a pat,” Lachlan explained.

Alyce laughed and patted her head then rubbed behind her ear. “I like her.”

“Princess goes and comes as she chooses and expects to be catered to.”

“And you oblige her?” Alyce asked.

“How do you deny a Princess?” Lachlan asked and the dog sauntered over to him to sit and lean against his leg.

Alyce’s stomach protested again and with it came a kick and none too gentle. Her hand flew to her stomach and her eyes rounded.

Lachlan hurried to her side, his hand covering hers and his arm slipping around her waist. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s moved before, but he’s never kicked me,” she admitted with a surprised laugh. “He’s strong.” She moved her hand so that Lachlan’s lay flat against her stomach. “Show your father your strength.”

As if on command he kicked again.

Lachlan gasped. “Did you feel that?”

“I certainly did,” Alyce said laughing.

Lachlan pressed his cheek to hers. “It feels strange to me and I only have my hand on you. I cannot imagine how it must feel for you.”

“Just as strange, but somehow right and comforting,” she admitted. Her stomach gurgled again.

“We must feed him; he protests.”

They hooked hands and left the cottage, Princess prancing alongside Lachlan, and for a moment Alyce felt as if she were home and the thought warmed her.

Late afternoon found Alyce tired and she retired to the cottage to nap, though only for an hour. She woke with a start and decided to roam the village. The sky had darkened from when she slept and the scent of rain remained in the air. She braided her blond hair and wrapped her green shawl around her to keep the dampness at bay; she made certain to wear boots, the ground still thick with mud in spots

The village was a bustle of activity with all calling a friendly greeting to her. She was offered drink and food, which she kindly turned down. Other women offered newly made candles or plants from their gardens, and one woman insisted she take a beautifully crafted basket to carry it all in. By the time she came
upon Zia’s healing cottage her basket was full, though of what she wasn’t certain.

There was a bench outside for those who waited and she took a seat, grateful to be off her feet. She was growing tired more easily of late and hungrier, otherwise she felt fit. She had no intentions of visiting Zia. She only wanted a moment off her feet and then she’d be on her way.

An older man emerged from the cottage with a smile promising to do as Zia instructed and praising her for always helping him.

“I’m so glad you stopped by,” Zia said, her smile growing more generous. “I’ll fix us a special brew.”

Alyce wanted to run, not ready to make friends just yet.

But Zia had already hooked her arm around hers and urged her inside.

Alyce sat at the table in the center of the room noticing how orderly Zia kept the cottage and the fresh flowery scent that permeated the room.

Alyce decided to be blunt. “I’ve found it necessary to depend on myself.”

“I’m familiar with the feeling,” Zia said with a laugh while adding a mixture of leaves to the boiling cauldron in the hearth. “And I’m lucky to have found a man who understands me and lets me be who I am.”

“He does?” Alyce asked, sounding confused.

Zia poured the hot brew in the tankards on the table. “Well, it did take a bit of training.”

Alyce chuckled, thinking Zia reminded her of Rowena, though not in appearance, Rowena being
more buxom and with a fuller figure. It was personalities they shared always smiling and cheerful and caring.

Zia placed a gentle hand on Alyce’s arm. “It wasn’t easy for me either when I first came here, even though I loved Artair. I left much behind, but I’ve also found much. Give yourself time and let yourself love. It’s the only way you’ll know for sure if this is where you belong.”

Alyce felt a tear surface and was quick to wipe it away, embarrassed that she would cry in front of a stranger.

“I was a crying fool while I carried Blythe,” Zia confessed. “Artair didn’t know what to do, poor man. And naturally he couldn’t do anything, though he felt he should.” Zia shook her head. “Men. They think they can fix anything.”

Alyce liked Zia. The more she talked the more she reminded her of Rowena and that made her feel she could trust her. “About that pain I had?”

Zia asked dozens of questions and Alyce answered everyone best she could. Zia praised Rowena’s instructions and what to expect and claimed Rowena a fine healer, which made Alyce realize that she could easily befriend this woman.

Alyce was laughing at a tale Zia detailed concerning the birth of the twins, that Honora and Addie had concocted to help her out of a predicament but served to upset the men, when Lachlan suddenly burst through the door out of breath.

Alyce and Zia immediately jumped up.

“What’s wrong?” Alyce asked fearing the worst.

“You—” He paused out of breath.

Alyce placed her hand to her chest, her heart beating wildly. “I what? What is it? Tell me?”

“You. You’re ill?” Lachlan managed to get out between labored breathes.

Artair poked his head in the doorway with a smile. “I told him it was nothing, but he wouldn’t listen. But lord, it does my heart good to see him act so foolish when he swore he wouldn’t.”

Lachlan shot him an evil look then turned to Alyce. “A few in the village said you were here.”

“And he naturally assumed the worse,” Artair said.

Alyce suddenly felt dreadful. The fear on Lachlan’s face was palpable, and she was sure that if she rested her hand to his chest she would feel his heart pounding. He was truly worried about her and while she had seen worry in his eyes before, she had never seen this depth of fear for her before.

“I’m fine,” she said wishing nothing more than to ease his burden.

Lachlan wrapped his arms around her waist. “You’re sure?”

“Tell him, Zia,” Artair urged. “I can’t stand to see the fool suffer.”

“We have talked and Alyce truly is fine,” Zia confirmed. “I expect she will deliver the babe without a problem.”

Color suddenly returned to Lachlan’s face and he sighed. “This is good to hear.”

“Though, I am hungry,” Alyce admitted.

“Again?” Lachlan laughed and took her hand to walk out of the cottage.

Alyce turned her head as she reached the door. “Thank you, Zia.” And she scooped up her basket as she left the cottage.

Raindrops fell one by one from the gray sky and Alyce and Lachlan hurried to their cottage. Once inside he took her in his arms.

“You needn’t have worried,” she said.

“How could I not?” he asked, brushing a kiss across her moist lips.

It sent a shiver through her. It had been too long since last they were intimate and she missed his touch.

“After feeling the babe kick inside you and knowing that a child we made from our love was happily growing inside you…” He shook his head. “I would brave the tortures of hell to see you both safe.” He kissed her gently. “Good lord, Alyce, I love you so very much.”

She tried to respond but his mouth captured hers in a kiss that sent her senses reeling.

L
achlan desperately wanted to make love to his wife, but her gurgling stomach advised that food was more prudent. He did, however, want her to know just how much he ached for her.

“I want to make love to you, but our babe has other plans,” he said after ending their kiss.

She sighed with disappointment and it not only pleased him to know that, but made him want her all the more.

“All you have to do is touch me and I want you,” she admitted.

“You sound as if it’s a curse.”

She nipped at his lips. “A pleasurable curse.”

He was elated. Things were going well, slowly but surely, and he was confident they would continue to improve, especially tonight since he intended to make love to
his wife
for the first time.

“One I will inflict on you often,” he teased.

She returned his playful teasing. “I will counter it with my own.”

“Then I will be on guard.”

She brushed her lips over his. “I will storm your defenses.”

He nibbled at her lower lip enjoying its plump ripeness. “I may be forced to surrender.”

The babe interrupted them with a kick they both felt and they laughed.

“He reminds us that he’s hungry,” Lachlan said.

“As is his mother.”

Lachlan was upset to see that no food had been brought to the cottage, and surprisingly it was Alyce who suggested it was do to the poor weather and that she truly enjoyed the bountiful spread at the keep.

“That hungry are you?” Lachlan teased and Alyce tugged him toward the door.

“Starving!” she claimed.

Lachlan fashioned a tarp of sorts with a winter cloak so that they could make it to the keep without getting soaked; the rain while not a downpour, a steady fall.

They were enjoying the spread the servants provided when Honora and Addie joined them with the twins. Princess crept in alongside Champion, but went directly to Lachlan to lie at his feet beneath the table.

“She’s afraid of storms?” Alyce asked and Lachlan confirmed with a nod.

“Addie and I need to see to some mending while the twins play in the sewing room, if you care to join us once we’re finished here,” Honora offered.

“Alyce doesn’t stitch,” Lachlan answered, recalling her earlier remark and besides he wanted her to himself.

“Then let us know, Alyce, if there is anything you need stitched,” offered Honora.

Lachlan could see that his wife was surprised that Honora had not been offended with her lack of sewing skills. It would be only a matter of time before the Sinclare women won her over and she would feel comfortable with them enough to perhaps even think of them as sisters.

Cavan and Artair entered a bit damp but anxious.

“Trouble brews in the east,” Cavan said.

Honora and Addie took the twins and left the hall, while Alyce remained beside her husband.

“You can join the women,” Cavan instructed.

“I don’t stitch,” Alyce said and stood. “But I will take my leave, after all what could a mere woman offer seasoned warriors.”

Cavan glanced at Alyce as she disappeared down the hall that led to the kitchen then looked to Lachlan.

He shrugged. “Alyce has a mind of her own.”

“Then she will fit perfectly with our wives,” Artair said.

Alyce didn’t know what to do with herself. She had meandered through the kitchen and was offered all sorts of food while the workers saw to their tasks with a sense of camaraderie.

She managed to make it to the stables without getting soaked and found her mare. Bored with an endless day of nothing substantial to do, she grabbed a brush, but before she got started she saw that the stall could use a good cleaning. She found a pitchfork and
got busy. Once her mare’s stall was cleaned and the animal brushed and given a ration of food, she decided to do the same for the other horses.

It felt good to be doing something. She hated sitting around and if truth be told, she would much rather be at the table with the men discussing the trouble that was brewing.

She supposed that was why her father had such a difficult time with her. When she was young he had allowed her access to meetings strictly meant for men and it was there she had learned the strategies of battle. However, when she had gotten older and began voicing her opinions, especially the ones that outshone the men, her father banished her with a sound reminder of her place in the clan.

Of course that hadn’t stopped her from objecting and frustrating her father even more, but what had he expected after allowing her to taste the workings of leadership?

She wiped the sweat from her brow then leaned on the handle of the pitchfork, her smile wide. The stable looked great and was fragrant with the pungent scent of fresh hay. She smiled, feeling invigorated and not the least bit tired.

Her smile faded when she wondered what she would do with her time tomorrow and the day after and so forth. She had four months until the babe was born, but she had no intentions of sitting and doing nothing.

She left the stable and, with the rain having stopped, once again made her way through the village when she
heard a shrilling squeal. She ran toward the sound and watched with delight as a young lad of about six tried desperately to catch a squealing pig.

The lad stopped when he spotted her and, with worry, pleaded, “Please help me catch Henry before he runs away.”

His sorrowful dark eyes had her chasing after the pig with him in no time. The chubby animal squealed and snorted and slipped right out of their grasps each time they got near him. Soon she was ready to slaughter the chubby little thing, and when Henry slipped past them again, she was sure she wanted to kill him.

She and the lad ran like wild idiots after the squealing animal as he dodged and darted around cottages, through a few gardens, his backside being swatted with a broom by a couple of irate women.

“Henry’s going to get away,” the young lad cried as they kept close on his hind legs.

“He is not,” snapped Alyce and leaped, her arms spread wide ready to grab Henry as she landed on her side in a mud hole beside him, her arms catching him tight around his fat middle.

“Got you, you damn pig,” she muttered and looked up expecting to see the lad happy and saw her husband and his two brothers.

“You truly do like to play in mud don’t you?” Lachlan said.

The lad prevented any answer since he ran up and grabbed Henry tight, the pig no longer squealing.

“Bad, Henry. Bad, Henry,” he scolded. Henry
snorted. The lad turned to Alyce and sniffled back a tear. “Thank you for catching Henry.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, not moving out of the mud hole and realizing that she probably looked a fright.

“It might be a good idea, Lachlan,” Cavan said, “to find something for your wife to do so she stays out of mud holes.”

That bristled her temper and she tried to get up only to keep tumbling back on her bottom.

She heard them laugh as Lachlan extended his hand to her. She slapped it out of her way. “I don’t need any help.” Sheer annoyance got her up on her own, and she glared at Cavan. “And I’ll do what I damn well please.” She turned to leave then turned around and with a poke at Cavan who backed away to avoid her muddy finger said, “And as laird it’s your duty to help your people. It should have been you in that mud.”

She gave one last poke that Cavan sidestepped, his foot catching the mud and the next thing he knew, went flying backward. Lachlan and Artair instinctively reached out trying to prevent him from falling. Both lost their footing and joined Cavan in the mud, though they hit it face first.

Alyce stood stunned, looking down at the three men sprawled in the mud.

Zia was suddenly at her side shaking her head. “Playing in the mud, lads? You really should know better.”

The three scrambled to get up but could only manage to sit up with the assistance of each other.

Zia looked to Alyce. “I assume you got yourself out of the mud?”

Alyce nodded and smiled. “All on my own.”

“Well, lads,” Zia said. “It would seem that Alyce is the wiser one here.”

“She’s the one that got us in here,” Cavan complained.

“Shame on you, husband,” Honora scolded as she joined the other two women. “Blaming a pregnant woman for your own folly.”

Cavan tried to protest. “I did nothing.”

“My contention exactly,” Alyce said.

“You failed to help Alyce?” Honora asked perturbed.

“I—I—I—” Cavan stumbled unable to find the right words.

Zia wrapped her arm around a muddy Alyce. “Come with us, Honora and I will get you cleaned up.”

Honora shook a finger at the three men. “You all should be ashamed of yourself for treating Alyce so unkindly.”

Cavan shook his head watching the women walk away. “What happened?”

“How the hell are we to know?” Artair said. “Women make no sense.” He looked at Lachlan. “And why the hell are you grinning?”

“This was perfect,” Lachlan said and slapped his knee sending mud flying at his brothers.

Cavan wiped the splat of mud off his cheek. “You better explain yourself before I drown you in this muck.”

“This incident helped my wife bond with your wives.”

“So we are to appear the fools so our wives will get along?” Cavan asked, confused.

“He’s got a point,” Artair said. “Can you imagine what life would be like if they didn’t get along?”

Cavan shook his head. “That won’t be good.” He jabbed a finger at Lachlan. “But find something to keep your wife busy, so that something like this doesn’t happen again.”

“Not so easy a task,” Lachlan admitted.

“What did she do at Everagis?” Artair asked.

“Everything,” Lachlan said. “The women and land flourished because of her. She even taught them how to defend themselves in battle, and disguised as mercenaries they kept the area safe.”

“How were they aware of who needed protecting?” Cavan asked.

“Piper, their tracker was like none I’ve ever known. She knew everything that was going on in the area. She could scent intruders in the air long before tracks were even found.”

“Then wouldn’t they have known of the mercenary troop long before the warring clans knew of their presence?” Artair asked. “And don’t either of you find it curious that the mercenaries never bothered Everagis?”

“Why would they bother nuns?” Lachlan asked.

“Why wouldn’t they unless they were paid not to,” Artair said. “They are paid thieves and murders, doing anyone’s bidding for a price.”

“Artair makes sense,” Cavan said.

“Artair always makes sense,” Lachlan said annoyed.

“You’re just angry because you didn’t see it yourself,” Artair said. “But it’s obvious why you didn’t.”

“Why is that?” Lachlan snapped.

“Love blinded you to the obvious.”

“He’s right again,” Cavan said.

“Are you suggesting that Alyce lied to me?” Lachlan challenged, annoyed that there might be some truth to what Artair suggested.

“She’s lied to you from the beginning,” Artair said.

“She had to,” Lachlan defended, not wanting for a moment to believe he couldn’t trust his wife.

“Then if she lied out of necessity, perhaps she does so again,” Artair suggested.

Sometimes Lachlan hated Artair’s reasoning nature.

“If that’s so,” Cavan said solemnly, “it could mean only one thing.”

Lachlan didn’t want to hear or believe what Cavan was about to suggest.

“Alyce could very well know something about Carissa and if that’s so, then she could possibly also know about Ronan.”

“Why not share it?” Lachlan asked.

“A necessity as I suggested,” Artair said, “perhaps an exchange or bargain of sorts agreed upon between her and the mercenaries.”

“It makes no sense,” Lachlan argued, though truly it did; he simply didn’t want to admit it.

“Find out,” Cavan ordered sharply, “or I will.”

Lachlan nodded, knowing Cavan had suffered
along with Ronan during their capture and would do anything to see him safely home.

“Excuse me, sirs.”

The three looked up to see the lad who Henry the pig belonged to.

“Do you need help getting out of the mud?” he asked and held out his small hand.

Lachlan wasn’t surprised when he heard Cavan refer to the lad by name, Daniel, since Cavan was familiar with all in the clan. He made a fuss over his generous offer and Cavan allowed the lad to help the mighty laird out.

Lachlan remained sitting in the muck wondering just how long he’d remain stuck.