Claimed By A Charmer (The Pith Trilogy) (3 page)

“Ye must stay. You would have been
my son if your ma didn’t go with Robert that day.
My son!
” Thomas
wheezed, before continuing, “I’ve no one else, only you, Douglas. The clan is
depending on ye. You’ll just walk away?”

“Why should I stay? I’ve never
belonged here. Never felt that I … I want to kill the Dunmores for what they’ve
done.”

“I always cared for ye, Douglas. I
didn’t want anything to happen to you. That’s why I sent you away. It never
mattered that you weren’t my blood son. Ye have always been my son.”

He returned to the bedside. “You
cared?” Thomas nodded. Douglas sighed. “I’ve always thought that I’d be laird
of the Kerrs. I was even willing to marry that harlot, Morna, as you asked.”

“You didn’t marry her?”

“She’s not worthy to be a Kerr. I
do want to stay, but if—”

“If you say she’s not worthy then I
believe ye. You will be laird, Douglas.”

“The Dunmore clan will pay for what
they’ve done. You’ve my word,
Father
.”

“It does me old heart good to hear
ye call me such. I’ve never wanted to tell you … but, son, I knew ye deserved
the truth. I was wrong to keep it from you. I don’t care about the Dunmores. Don’t
take my feud into your heart. I need you to care for the clan. That is of more
import.”

His father closed his eyes. “Bring
your sister home for my burial. I want my children home, and promise to take
care of Shelagh. She was a good mother to ye.”

“Aye, I will. When do you want me
to leave?”

“At all haste. When you return,
I’ll be gone from this realm.”

“Is there no way you might
improve?”

“Nay, son.” His father opened his
bleary eyes. “My time has come. I’ll face it as I must. Trust Cedric, he’s a
good lad. I might run out and get into a battle with our enemies. I wish to die
as warrior, not in my bed like a damned Sassenach.”

Douglas chuckled. “It would be just
like you. I’ll leave at first light to get Candace. It should only take me a
week, mayhap I’ll return before …” His voice trailed off when he realized that
his father had fallen into a disquieted sleep.

After giving him a pat on the
shoulder, Douglas returned to the hall to talk to his stepmother.

Shelagh was still beautiful at such
a great age. As a lad, Douglas had asked her age, but she teased him and said
that she would never reveal it. Her jovial mood made everyone around her
lighthearted. He recalled the night when she’d told a story about having their
clan’s symbol inscribed on her back. Everyone wanted to see it, but she
wouldn’t let them. Besides, who would actually etch a boar on themselves? Douglas
cared for her because she was able to get his father from mourning his mother,
and she always was kind and loving.

Knowing the truth of his mother, he
became disturbed. Why had his father regaled them with kind memories of her? His
father must have loved her a great deal. Douglas shook the thoughts away. He
would retrieve his sister and return before his father passed.

When he reached the table, he took
a seat next to Brendan. A fair-haired lass served him a tankard of ale. He
eased his disgruntlement by downing the drink.

“My lord, I’m Rachel, should you
need anything.”

Douglas shook his head, dismissing
her. “He’s not doing well,” he said quietly to his stepmother. “I didn’t want
to believe he was ill.”

“I tried to make him comfortable,
but he grumps to let him alone.”

“He asked me to retrieve Candace. I’ll
leave on the morrow.”

“Aye, she needs to come home. She’s
turned into a lady, and has changed much. Ye haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“Nay, I haven’t. She must have been
six then.”

“I’m saddened by Thomas’ illness. It
came on suddenly, and I wasn’t able to …” Shelagh wept into the palms of her
hands.

Douglas hugged her, knowing how sad
she was. “Please, don’t weep. It hurts me to see ye so distraught.” He looked
into her tearing faded blue eyes.

“I’m trying to be brave, Douglas. Honestly,
the man is mule-headed. He’s just giving up.”

“I agree, but there is nothing we
can do to aid him.” He called across the hall, “Lass, assist my mother to her
chamber.”

The girl nodded, moving forward,
taking his mother’s arm.

“Mother, get some rest. He’s worn
you out.” He gave her a kiss, then left to go assemble men for the journey to
retrieve his sister.

On his way to the garrison, he
thought about the events of the day. He didn’t notice the lady that watched him
from the window, or the men that glanced at him when he passed by. Nor did he
notice the serene landscape of his clan’s holding. Nay, his mind was set on the
tasks at hand. Aye, he would retrieve his sister and return. By God, it was now
his feud and he wouldn’t let Thomas down. His usual smiling face now held a
frown. The only thing that mattered was his honor and gaining the respect of
his father’s clan by seeking revenge. Only then he would win their admiration
and claim his right as laird.

In the morning, he set off to
retrieve his sister with Brendan and Gil. They hadn’t stopped much to rest,
only taking a few minutes to drink and give their horses a respite. Heat from
the ground rose as the afternoon sun beat down on Douglas. Summer in full
effect, made him hot and irritable. The closer he got to the Gordon’s, the more
affected by the heat he became. He was used to the cooler climate of the higher
ground and wooded forest of the Highlands. He felt uneasy because his father
could be dead at that very moment, and he’d not even know it. He wanted to
retrieve his sister, and return home posthaste. Relief washed over him when he
finally reached the Gordon’s keep. Adjusting his eyes to the contrasting light
of the hall as he entered, he searched for his sister.

Stanley Gordon approached. “Douglas,
what brings ye here?”

“Laird Gordon.” Douglas bowed. “I’m
here to retrieve Candace. Our father is dying and we must return home
immediately.”

Stanley’s face fell. “’Tis sad
news. I’m sorry to hear that, lad. I’ll have Mabel get her ready.” The stout
man shouted for his wife. He directed her, and she ran to do his bidding.

“Come and rest. How are things
otherwise? I see you brought the disagreeable MacKinnon with you.” Stan nodded at
Brendan.

“Aye, I’m to return and will take
over my clan. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I knew the day would come …”
Douglas detested admitting such a flaw.

“Your father’s a good man. You’ll do
him proud, lad. Oh, Scottie’s been messing with a new brew. You may want to see
him before you leave. I’m headed out to a hunt, but will return by supper.”

“I want to leave this day, after
supper.” Douglas noticed Brendan nodding.

Stan laughed so hard, his eyes
watered

Douglas thought he’d lost his mind.
“What’s so amusing, Stan?”

“Well, now, lad, it may take us
that long to find the lass.”

The adversary sat against the tree,
seemingly meditating or asleep. Isabel studied him, trying to assess his
wakefulness. Scottie Gordon’s hair blew from the gentle breeze, and he reached
to scratch his bearded chin, yet seemed to settle back. She saw the flask of
brew lying on his lap. He didn’t know that she schemed to steal that very flask,
for if he had known, he wouldn’t have kept his eyes closed. He continued to
rest peacefully, with his legs stretched out, and his back against the tree.

“Is he asleep?”

“I don’t know, Candace, mayhap. He
must be, because his eyes are closed. Listen, he’s snoring now. Shhh, we must
be quiet or he’ll catch us.” She hesitated.

Candace shoved her back. “Go on, do
it.”

“Very well, stand aside, but be
ready to run.”

Candace forced her forward. Isabel
skulked toward the tree, gazing at the target. She lifted her skirts, and
tiptoed to Scottie. She heard her friend’s laughter, and turned to give her a
warning glance. Noise would surely awaken him, and then he would catch them. She
rerouted her gaze, making certain none could see her intent. She bent, gently
lifting the object from his lap. She scrunched her eyes closed when Scottie
moved, when he reached to scratch his beard again. Bravely, she opened her
eyes, and found him still slumbering. With the flask now held in her grasp, she
moved away from his body. She hurried toward her friend, and as she reached her
side, she heard a shout.

“Bring that back, lass!”

Isabel’s heart jumped in her chest.
She gripped Candace’s hand, and propelled her friend forward. “Oh, drat, he’ll
catch us for certain. Hurry, Candace, hurry.”

Scottie ran after them to get his
flask back, but his aged body wasn’t able to keep up with them. Isabel glimpsed
his tartan fluttering, showing his bare thighs. She colored and averted her
gaze to a hideout. As soon as she entered the recess in the wooden wall behind
the water well, she yanked Candace inside. Scottie rounded the keep, cursing
his displeasure at not finding them.

Isabel watched through the hole in
the wood, and he turned away. She tugged Candace’s arm, and they slunk behind
the stable wall. Scottie marched toward the keep. His angry stride indicated
that he would surely tell Uncle Stan what they’d done, but Isabel knew her
uncle had gone hunting and wasn’t inside. Their punishment would await upon her
uncle’s return.

Isabel smiled, lifting the flask in
salute to her friend.

“We did it. That was easier than I
thought it would be. Come, let us have a drink.”

“I never had it before. Does it
taste good?” Candace’s eyes shone with deviled gaiety.

“I never had it before either. Surely
it’s as good as wine or ale. I want to see what’s so appealing about it. The
men seem to like it.”

They climbed to the loft above the
stable and sat in a huge pile of hay. Isabel sank back in the softness of it,
opened the flask, and smelled it. Her nose wrinkled at the odor. She wasn’t
sure if she should take a swig.

“It doesn’t smell terribly awful,
just a bit strong. Mayhap it will taste good.” She held the flask out to
Candace, hoping she would try it.

Candace wrinkled her nose and shook
her head. “You first.”

Isabel fearlessly swigged the
contents of the brew, and began coughing when the hot liquid rolled down her
throat. The brew burned, making her eyes water. She sucked in her breath,
gasping for air.

Candace waited anxiously for her
report. “Well, how was it?”

“It burns my chest slightly, but
doesn’t taste overly bad. Here, ‘tis your turn.” Isabel held the flask outward,
and Candace reluctantly took the container, lifting it to her mouth. She
hesitated.

“Go on,” Isabel prodded. “I did it,
now you have to. Come now, be brave.”

She lifted it and drank a sip of
the liquid. “It doesn’t taste bad. ‘Tis hot and warms me.”

A short while later, the flask lay
empty beside her. There was enough of the brew to send them into a giggling
state. Isabel grinned at her friend’s silliness. Candace couldn’t stop laughing
at the simplest things, while she became more melodramatic and serious. She
stood, wobbling on her feet, and threw her hand over her chest. Isabel recited
a verse that she’d received from an unworthy suitor, who she was lucky enough
to avoid.

“Your hair is
like the finest silk …

spun to hold my
heart …

Your eyes are
like jewels …

that glistens
when the sun shines so.”

She laughed heartily. “Is that not
the worst sonnet you ever heard?”

Candace frowned and nodded. “He
actually wrote that?”

Isabel sank to her knees and
giggled. “Aye, I thought it sweet at the time, but then after reading it, I
told Russ that he better take to his books ‘ere he thinks of wooing a lady.”

Candace grinned. “This drink is not
so bad. I feel quite nice. How do you feel?”

“I feel wonderful. We should go and
steal more.”

Candace rolled side to side,
laughing. “Nay, we wouldn’t be fortunate enough to get away twice in one day. God
will surely punish us for our sins. I fear we must go to confession and pray
for forgiveness.”

Isabel sucked in her breath. “We
committed many sins this day, thievery and … and … drunkenness. We must find
Father Georges and beg for redemption.”

“Father Georges’ penance will be
harsh. I would rather not.”

Isabel scooped a pile of hay,
throwing it at her friend. “’Tis your fault, I shouldn’t have listened to ye. You
always get me in trouble.”

Candace threw hay back, and they
began a playful fight. Isabel fell on top of Candace, knowing their laughter
could likely be heard by the stable boy who was at his tasks below. Someone whistled,
and then the sound of someone climbing the ladder stopped them. Tom, the stable
boy, jumped up onto the upper landing of the loft.

They screamed.

“Ah, mi’ladies, what are ye doing up
here?”

Isabel fell back in laughter when
Candace snorted.

“Och, I see what ye been doing. Best
hurry, Laird Gordon’s been looking for ye.”

Isabel huffed, knowing they’d be in
trouble for sure. Most likely, Scottie told on them. She grabbed her friend’s hand
and they crawled to the ladder. Once the exited the stable, they ran into her
Aunt Mabel.

“You two look as though ye been
rolling around in the stable. Isabel, your uncle wants to see ye both in the
hall. Someone has come for Candace. Be quick now.”

Isabel tried to think of some
excuse for their behavior, but she couldn’t think of any. Her friend held her
hand so tightly, as they entered the hall. She stood beside the door, stopping abruptly
at the sight of the warriors. Mabel told them Laird Gordon wanted to see them,
but she hadn’t said they had company. She tried to correct her rumpled
appearance. Regrettably, she and Candace couldn’t do a thing about their
appearance now. She smiled at her uncle, and he grinned, giving her a quick
wink. The other men held hard looks on their faces. She nudged Candace forward,
and eyed the man who stared at them. She knew who he was the minute she stepped
before him. Who else but Candace’s brother would come to see her?

“Douglas.” Candace became timid.

Isabel could barely hear her.

“Candace?”

Candace nodded.

“I’ve come to return ye home. We
must return at all haste.”

The warrior relaxed his stance, and
continued to look at his sister. He leaned against the table, and seemed to be
waiting for Candace to speak.

“You’ve changed and have grown into
a bonny woman, lass. We must leave at once.”

Candace must have found her
gumption, because she finally spoke. Isabel moved closer to her friend and took
her hand.

“Mother said I could stay as long
as I liked. I don’t wish to leave yet. I’ve my friend here, and we are—”

“Father is dying, get your belongings.”
He spoke as though he wouldn’t be questioned.

“Gracious.” Candace slunk to the
floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Her brother didn’t seem to know how
to comfort her, or wasn’t willing to. Isabel knew she’d have to console
Candace, and patted her shoulder.

She glared at his lack of manners. “That’s
no way to be telling her, you have distressed her.” She gave him a hard look,
and her brother looked startled by what she’d said.

“Lass?”

Was he waiting for an apology? Well,
she decided she wasn’t wont to give him one. Isabel’s eyes flickered with anger
at how upset he’d made her friend. He continued to stare at her, seeming to
gauge her from head to toe. She didn’t like be assessed so thoroughly.

After staring back for a minute,
she reproached him. “Ye could have broken the news more gently. You, sir, are
not a gentleman. You are Candace’s brother, are you not?”

Isabel lowered her gaze, amazed
that she just yelled at him. Whatever that brew was, definitely addled her. She
shouldn’t have drunk it, and regretted it now. Good lord, she lost her good
sense—lost it in the stables drinking that foul drink. Losing her good sense
would suffice as penance, wouldn’t it? At least she was able to curb her
tongue, and hadn’t truly insulted him. Or had she?

Candace never let on how handsome
her brother was. His dark honey-colored eyes pierced hers as he watched her,
and his dampened hair made him look cross. Isabel couldn’t help noticing his
ruggedness or his arrogant stance. She knew he tried to maintain equanimity. Forcing
herself to glare at him, she found herself wanting to smile. Would he ever
respond? His stare made her feel uncomfortable.

“Aye, I’m her brother. I’ll speak
to her anyway I please. Who are you?”

Isabel eyed him as his hard words
sunk in her mind. He thought to intimidate her. “Humph!” She refused to let his
arrogance affect her, but affect her it did, when he took a step forward, causing
her to step backward in turn. She wouldn’t be afeard, and she boldly stepped
forward again. His eyes narrowed at her haughtiness. Warriors! She blinked when
Candace’s crying drew her notice, and she patted her friend’s shoulder again.

“Let me take you to our chamber,
you’ll be all right.” Pulling Candace from the floor, Isabel guided her from
the hall.

Once inside the chamber they
shared, Isabel sat beside her, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“I’ll pack your belongings. I’m
sorry your father is ill, Candace.”

“I cannot believe he’s dying. He
was well when I left. Surely Douglas is mistaken.”

“I shall miss ye. I don’t know when
I’ll see you again or if I’ll be able to visit.”

“Your father better let you visit,
Isabel. I’ll find a way for us to see each other again, though it may be a long
while. What if Douglas insists I marry? Oh, what about my da’s vow that I can
choose my husband? I don’t believe Douglas will make the same concession.” Candace
sobbed again.

Isabel placed her friend’s satchel
on the bench, and began placing items inside. She stopped when her friend’s
sobs grew in earnest. She sat beside her again, and patted her shoulder.

“Have your mother tell him so.”

“Douglas will be laird, and can do
as he pleases.”

Isabel pulled a strand of hay from
Candace’s hair then she touched her own, and smiled when she felt the brittle
pieces. “If ye must marry, write me, and I’ll come. You cannot wed a boorish
warrior like your brother.” She laughed, feeling somewhat giddy, a feeling she
only encountered when she was with Candace. She hoped her jest would lighten
her friend’s mood.

“Nay, you’ll not be able to travel
to the Highlands by yourself. It would be too dangerous.”

“You know me, I could find my own
way.” Isabel placed her hands on her lap, and smiled.

“I’ll have Douglas come to get ye. That’s
what I’ll do.”

“I don’t believe he’ll be in favor
of it. He didn’t seem to like me.”

“Mother said Douglas is honorable. If
I tell him I promised to come for you, he’ll have to agree, won’t he?”

“You’re asking me? If ye must
marry, have someone fetch me. I’ll meet the intended, and if he’s not worthy,
we’ll remedy it.”

Candace sighed. “I know I can count
on you. Thank you.”

“I understand how much you love
your father, Candace. I’m sorry that he’s taken ill and is dying. Were that my
father was so loving.”

Candace nodded slightly. “Will you
be all right? I know you dread going home. Our visit was coming to an end
anyway.”

“Father is sure to send for me
soon, but I shall delay it as long as possible. I am good at fooling him.”

“Aye, you’re good at fooling
everyone. I’m glad we were able to visit.”