The Draig's Woman Read online

  “You should have spoken. Now I am pleased I did.” Aliana picked up the pile of infant clothing she and Neala had been working on and handed them to Claire. “Take these. They are yours.”

  “These are yours. I am working on ones for me.”

  “Nonsense. I have most of what Cerwyn wore, and the lasses have been working to prepare more for me.” She placed them in Claire’s arms. “These I have made for you.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. “This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

  “Dinna cry. I, too, carry a child and will be forced to cry with you.” Already Aliana’s eyes filled with the promise of tears.

  “Thank you, Aliana.” It was all she could manage to say with her throat thick with emotion.

  “Go to bed and sleep. Mayhap soon we can find some time alone. You were trying to explain a . . . a burrito to me.”

  With the first genuine smile Claire had felt in weeks, she said, “Now you’ve made me hungry. We’ll talk when we can. You had a lot of questions, and I’ll answer them all.”

  “Then sleep well. My questions grow with every talk we have.” Aliana hugged her tight and then Claire walked the corridor her to chamber.

  Placing the gowns on her bed, she gently folded and added the infant clothing to the basket on the table. Her hand covered her small bump and sleep called to her weary body. She cringed at the small, comfortable bed. Sleep had become a time of nightmares and she tended to wait for exhaustion to force her to bed.

  Walking to the window, she listened to the waves crashing on the cliffs. Her mind sought the meditative hum of the repetitive sound. She wasn’t ready to face the demons of her sleep having just spent the evening with the live blond version.

  Chapter 29

  Nothing seemed to be working. No task was up to the challenge of clearing her mind. Alone in the gardens behind the keep, Claire believed even the weeds mocked her lack of focus. She wondered which of the herbs were used in her treatment, which ones for Aliana’s morning sickness, and how many were just used to flavor the food. She wanted to learn more.

  Through most of the day, the dream from the previous night haunted every fiber of her being. It had been so real. Her subconscious had finally found the perfect combination of all that bothered her, of all the fear she carried inside. Fear sucks.

  The dream began, as they all seemed to lately, bound in the forest with her hands tied above her head. The pain was always so vivid. The overwhelming sensation of helplessness could be felt down to her bones. Only this time it wasn’t Nolen who taunted and tortured her. Instead, it was Ian. Even more disturbing, Michael assisted.

  Claire closed her eyes. The dream was as strong as any memory, and the smell of the earth and trees and the bright light of day filled the sky with voices, not talking to her, but about her.

  “Here is where the man went wrong.” Michael stood back to point at Claire’s legs and continued his lecture. “Women have different strengths than men. Their legs contain their true force while fighting. Combine that with a strong core, and almost anything is possible. I know it is true with Claire. How many times did I make her do extra work to build her strength, her focus, and her skill? Too many times to count, and she was such a great student. But her mind is the weapon Nolen never anticipated.”

  “I can only agree, her mind is ever sharp. My own eyes have witnessed her cunning in battle. You are a fine instructor.” Ian’s compliment earned him a nod. “So this is why her legs are now bound. It prevents escape, does it nay?”

  Claire tried to scream at them to stop, to let her go. How can they do this? She had no voice, not even a whisper, and was helpless to stop the insanity.

  “Correct, Ian. Without her legs or arms free, she is now truly trapped.” Michael bent to test the bindings. “No room for movement here. She won’t be any trouble.”

  “My thanks for your service.”

  “Now what?” Michael’s tone seemed almost bored, no concern, just bored.

  The glee was evident in Ian’s voice. “Now I take what I want, and she can nay stop me.” He paused to look past Claire’s head. “Dinna worry for her. I will nay touch her. Why should I take what was so freely given and so often. Her body has served its purpose.”

  The verbal insult demeaned what had been between them as it had been intended. Claire wondered what both men stared at so intently. The feeling of fear and dread washed over her like a wave at this unknown and unseen threat. She struggled to see but was unable to move as pain forced her body to still.

  “I will take what is mine.” Ian held out his hand and a soft smile appeared on his face. “‘Tis time you came home with me, son.” The small boy of maybe five years old reached out to take the waiting hand.

  “He is a good-looking boy. He has your eyes, bright and green. I can see Claire in his hair coloring. Still, he looks more like you.”

  “He is a fine, strong lad.” Ian turned to greet the woman approaching from the tree line. “Would you not agree, Dedre?”

  She looked the child up and down as she brushed nothing from her skirts. “Nay as fine as the two strong sons you have waiting for you at home. Why would you want him? He is nothing but a bastard.” The disdain for the child was more than obvious as Dedre spoke while refusing to look in his direction.

  “True. But he is mine, so I will take him.” Ian let go of the child to take Dedre in his arms. “He will be nothing to us. The lasses will take care of him. Dinna fret, my sweet. Our fine firstborn son will stand as my heir as you stand alone in my heart.”

  Claire forced her eyes closed as Ian bent to kiss Dedre. It was no simple small kiss, but one slow and sensual, full of passion and desire. She only knew the kiss ended when she heard his voice again. “Let us ride home, wife. There is nothing left for me here.”

  Ian placed Dedre on her mount and then picked up Claire’s son to ride with him on the stallion. No goodbyes, no further taunts, just her left alone, bound in the woods. The silent scream ripped from her throat.

  “Claire. See me, child. ‘Tis Neala. You are dreaming, ‘tis all. Please wake.”

  The feel of the grass beneath her back brought panic, even as Neala’s worried face came into view. Claire’s heart slammed in her chest as she tried to rise from the ground, the wave of dizziness nearly knocking her back again. She gripped tight to Neala’s arm. “I’m okay. It was a dream.” The words were more for her peace of mind as her hands moved to her stomach. The small bump was still there. The child was safe. She repeated over and over, “My child is safe.”

  “Are you well, child? You gave me quite a fright. Mayhap you were out in the heat of the day too long. Come to your chamber so you can rest.”

  “No!” Claire practically screamed the word. “I can’t handle the thought of rest now. Maybe you’re right. It could be the heat.”

  Or it could be the recurring nightmare from hell that won’t end.

  “I’ll go to the kitchen for a drink. I’m sure that will help.”

  “‘Tis a fine idea. I came to find you with news. We can talk while you have a drink and mayhap a bit to eat.” Neala took Claire’s arm and led her to the kitchens.

  The cool of the kitchen was a welcome relief from the heat of midday. Maybe Scotland does get hot in August. Now that the cooking fires had been moved outside, the room remained pleasant and served more for storage and preparation. She took her customary seat at the table and asked Neala for some goat’s milk.

  “Still you prefer this?”

  “I can’t help it. It just tastes so good.” Claire took the offered cup and drained it dry. “Maybe I was just thirsty.”

  “‘Tis a fine thing to crave, child. Now here, eat a bit, and I will tell you what you have missed.”

  “I missed the meal, didn’t I?” Claire said as she accepted a plate
of bread and cheese with a refill on the goat’s milk.

  “You did. Now eat,” Neala scolded and placed a small bowl in front of her. “Try this on the bread. ‘Tis summer fruit made into a compote, an old recipe, and one the kitchens have always made.”

  She regretted the smell of the dish in front of her, strawberries. The voice taunted the back of Claire’s mind.

  “You smell of sweet summer berries . . .”

  Claire pushed the offending mixture away. “I’ll stick with the bread and cheese.”

  Neala didn’t ask about the reaction, for which Claire was thankful. “Riders came in just before the meal. Lachlan and most of the men have returned.”

  The food sat precariously in her stomach. “Just Lachlan?” She was afraid to ask the question and even more afraid to hear the answer. Claire had always assumed Ian would come home safely. Being angry and feeling betrayed were one thing, but she would never wish him harm. She had seen enough death to last a lifetime.

  Neala patted her arm. “Forgive the way I spoke, child. Ian and the rest of the men will follow within the week. There are still matters they tend to at the mines. From what I have heard, there is now great wealth for this clan. You were right. ‘Tis a fine thing you have done for all.”

  “I really didn’t do anything. I just found something that had been overlooked,” Claire answered, ignoring the praise.

  “Dinna claim such modesty. Because of your deeds, this clan is safe and will nay ken hunger this winter. I am proud of you, child.”

  “And I am proud as well, cousin.” Hagan’s comments caused both women to look at the door. “I was hoping to find you, Claire. There is further need of your services.” The ledgers in hand gave away the purpose of his search.

  She looked at what Hagan carried as she finished her food. “Where are those from?” Claire knew every book in the study, and these were foreign.

  “Lachlan brought them from the mines. They came with explicit instruction that you were to see to them. Apparently they are not easy to understand, as the format is strange. Ian’s hope is that you will find the meaning.”

  Unbelievable! Ian expects me to sit here and do his bookkeeping?

  She wasn’t sure if she should tell Hagan off for even thinking she would do this or remember this was not the man she was angry with, so she settled for the easy way out. “I’m not sure I should be doing this.”

  With a barely concealed grin, Hagan spoke, “Fine, Claire. I ken your reasoning. Dinna fash yourself over these. I will tend them.”

  The fire in Claire’s eyes answered before any words reached her lips. “The last thing anyone needs is for you to try to figure these out. Give them to me now. I’ll do it.” Claire knew she had been played, and Hagan’s stupid grin confirmed the thought. She snatched the books from his hands. “I’ll be in the study if anyone needs me.”

  Before Neala could speak, Hagan said, “Tis a fine thing for her to be doing. It gives her a distraction and less time to think. The lass spends too much time thinking.”

  “I was nay going to criticize this. If anything, I believe it best for her to stay busy. It also saves her from Dedre’s company. Too many here ken what was between Claire and Ian. It will only be a matter of time before someone speaks of it to Dedre.” Neala smiled as the thought occurred. “It gives me reason to stay clear of the Lady, too. Someone must make sure Claire is well tended. The needs of the clan must come first.”

  “Agreed, Neala. See Claire tended. Let us hope this all works out for the best.”

  Chapter 30

  “For days you have kept to this chamber, Claire,” Lachlan said as he entered and took the seat across from her at the desk. “I wish to speak with you alone.”

  Barely glancing up from the ledgers, Claire let out a sigh at the disruption. “Then talk,” she mumbled, with her focus back on her work.

  “It would be easier to speak if I had your attention.” She hadn’t missed the irritation in his voice and bit her lip to keep her smirk from sight. She doubted medieval men enjoyed asking for attentiveness. Yet, he had brought the ledgers to her to be done. She wished he would simply leave her to the work.

  “What can I do for you?” Claire responded as she sat back in her chair.

  Lachlan gazed hard at her, and she stared directly back. If he was in the chamber to try her patience, he was doing an excellent job.

  With a softer gaze, he said, “I can see why Ian insisted only your hand should touch these accounts. It appears you are making fine progress. They seemed a bit odd to me, yet you understand them?”

  “The format is a bit unusual. However, all the necessary information is there.” Offering the same explanation as she had to Hagan, Claire continued, “I am currently transferring the necessary data into the household accounts. It will be easier to maintain in the future this way. The old books will be kept for reference.”

  “Then matters here are well cared for as Ian had hoped.” Lachlan looked away from the ledgers and back to Claire. “I had wished to offer my thanks. Because of you, my daughter and I still draw breath. We would have both enjoyed the wedding ale and paid the price. The Campbell clan is in your debt.” Lachlan added, seemingly for the sake of importance, “‘Tis no small matter.”

  “You’re welcome. Please don’t speak of debt. I am simply glad no harm came to anyone.” She hated the mention of debt.

  “You surprise me. Most would be pleased to have me in their debt. Still, I would have you ken that you have my thanks. The Campbell clan will honor this blood debt. Should you ever need anything, you will come to me,” Lachlan commanded. Claire smiled at the offer given with such authority.

  “Your offer is very kind. Was there anything else?” Claire replied as she looked again down at the ledgers before her. If that had been his goal, the meeting should have been over.

  With no preamble, Lachlan continued. “Did you ken that once a long time ago these two clans, the Draig and Campbell, were united by sisters? ‘Twas a long time past, I believe it may have been the first Draig, the one who claimed these lands. My forefather and Ian’s were married to these women.”

  Claire replied, “I had no idea.” She doubted her annoyance at the story she didn’t want was kept from her face. Lachlan’s eyes narrowed, yet he kept talking.

  “I believe ‘tis this common ancestry that has kept our two clans at peace. Always we have supported the other through good years and bad. ‘Tis a fine thing to have such an alliance, would you not agree?” Lachlan made a point of keeping her gaze as he spoke.

  “Of course, I agree. Good neighbors are hard to find,” Claire answered with a smile she forced to her lips. Why do I feel like he is trying to sell me something?

  “There still remains only goodwill between our clans. I would keep it this way. When my son follows me as the next laird, I would have this alliance solid. The future is uncertain, and good friends are always needed.”

  “We have already agreed, so why are you telling me this?” If there was something he wanted to say, she wished he would spill it.

  “I will speak plainly. The alliance, while strong, could be stronger. Fresh blood is needed to keep old agreements in place. I would see Ian and my daughter wed. Their children will bind our clans once again and for many generations to come.”

  Claire’s gaze dropped to the ledgers. She wanted no part of the conversation. “Well, that sounds like a matter for you to discuss with Ian when he returns. I only keep the books.”

  She felt his eyes on her, and she strove to ignore the sensation of being studied. “I would see my daughter in a home of her own. Not one claimed by another,” Lachlan finally said.

  “Why are you talking to me about this?” The question danced on the edge of a past she had no desire to share with the man before her. Up to that point, she had enjoyed his company an
d found him to be pleasant and kind.

  “Dinna pretend with me, lass. You said there was truth to what Tavis claimed. I merely wished to ken that you are heading back to Douglas lands.”

  “So let me get this straight. First you come in to thank me and tell me how indebted you are to me. Then you insinuate how I need to be gone. Is that correct?” Claire leaned forward in her seat. Amazing. Somehow I’m still perceived as only a threat. Maybe I should enlighten him on how I was thrown away. Maybe then he’ll leave me alone.

  “You make my words sound more harsh than I intended. Be at ease, Claire. There is no threat to you. I simply wished to ken if you leave or stay.” She glanced up to see eyes that seemed to be soft with no trace of underlying deceit.

  Claire’s gaze left his as she answered, “If it makes you sleep better, I plan on leaving.”

  Lachlan offered with sincerity, “I did nay mean to have you fear me. I am nay like Tavis.”

  Straightening in the chair, Claire leaned forward. “Let’s get one thing straight, I don’t fear you. Plus, I am perfectly capable of handling you if needed. You asked me an honest question, and I gave you an honest answer. Let’s leave it at that.”

  Again their gazes locked. Breaking the stalemate with laughter, Lachlan said, “You are a fine woman. Tell me, will you keep the accounts for the Douglas clan?”

  Her sigh answered first. The new direction of the conversation came dangerously close to the uncertainty of the path her life was taking. “I honestly don’t know. It’s my hope, but we’ll see what happens.”

  Lachlan placed his hands on the desk as he offered, “You could always come with me. Sitting behind a desk is no place for a warrior, even an old one like myself.” She was about to tell him he was far from old, when his gaze slid from her face to her chest.