Highland Dove: (New Year's) Page 3

  Everyone seemed to be afraid of the man, and rightly so. He was deceitful and selfish and, in her opinion, there was something evil about him. Lately, he brought men into the clan that didn’t even belong there, and that Mari had never seen before. He told the rest of the clan that they’d lost a lot of men and these men were here for protection. Things changed quickly. There weren’t many loyal clanmembers left anymore since Eideard forbid anyone to speak out against him and threatened their families if they didn’t pay him allegiance now. Some of the men left the clan with their loved ones, while others gave in and answered to Eideard now, just to protect their families.

  “Ye must believe him. Why would Eideard lie about Duncan and Angus bein’ dead?” asked Tillie. “He is part of the clan, and now chieftain. Surely, he must care what happens.”

  “Nay!” Mari retorted. “Eideard only cares about himself. Duncan and Angus are too guid of warriors to have been killed. I’m sure they are no’ dead. They canna be.”

  “Mari,” said Tillie, putting her hand over her sister’s. She looked deeply into Mari’s eyes. “We’ve talked about this before. If Duncan and Angus were alive, they would have returned by now or at least sent a message to ease their mathair’s mind.”

  “No’ if they were taken prisoners by the English, they wouldna. Mayhap they couldna send a message at all.”

  “But Eideard said the clan has no’ received any ransom notes or word from the English at all. That can only mean that even if they were captured . . . they are no longer alive.”

  The wind picked up and the snow started to fall faster.

  “Well, I refuse to believe it. And dinna ye think it is strange that Eideard doesna want revenge on the English after they killed so many of our men?”

  “It’s winter. I’m sure he will go after them once the weather changes.”

  “We will see. Hurry, children,” Mari called out to the youngsters who she and her sister had guided into the woods. They had come here to find holly and mistletoe to use as decorations in the great hall in preparation for the Christmas celebration.

  Duncan’s mother was too distraught to do anything to prepare for the holiday so Mari stepped in to help and to keep the morale of the clan high. But it wouldn’t be a happy time without Duncan. The last thing Mari wanted to do was celebrate. Still, she did it for the children and for Duncan’s mother. She needed to help the clan stay optimistic even though so many of them had lost loved ones lately. Life was not the same anymore with Eideard in charge.

  They weren’t far from the castle, so it hadn’t seemed treacherous to make the journey without an escort. When they’d left the courtyard, it was sunny and it wasn’t even snowing. But now the sky darkened and filled up with threatening-looking clouds. The wind had picked up and was starting to become relentless. “There is a storm brewin’ and we need to get back to the castle at once,” she shouted, once again starting to worry. “Everyone, hold hands and stay together in a group. Dinna wander off.”

  The children ran to them as instructed. There were a half-dozen boys and girls, ranging from four to ten years of age. Mari’s sister, Tillie, gathered the two youngest girls to her, wrapping her long, woolen cloak around them. Mari felt close to her sister since they had no other siblings. After the death of their mother when they were young, her father had never remarried.

  “Mari, ye seem sullen today,” remarked Tillie as they turned to make their way back to the horse and cart that they’d left on the road. Tillie was the mother of the two youngest girls that she was protecting from the cold. Ilona was five and Ava was four. “This is Yuletide and a time for joy and celebration. Ye need to smile.”

  “How can I celebrate or smile when my heart is broken?” Mari held the hand of the six-year-old boy, Artair. In worry, she fingered the locket she wore on a chain around her neck with her other hand. The locket had been a present from Duncan when they’d first been betrothed. Two doves were etched into the metal, reminding her of the two turtle doves he’d given her right before he left for battle.

  Mari missed Duncan more than ever, and loved him with all her heart. Every day, she’d wake up and hope to find that he had returned. But every day when he didn’t come home, it only got harder and harder to cope with reality. Poor Emmaline barely ever came out of her room anymore, so saddened by the deaths of her loved ones.

  “Ye need to stop worryin’ about Duncan,” warned Tillie under her breath so the children wouldn’t hear her. “There is nothin’ we can do. Instead, focus on helpin’ his poor mathair.”

  Tillie lost her husband in battle last year and had not yet remarried. Her poor children, who were young, no longer even remembered their father. Mari’s hand went to her stomach and she felt as if she were going to retch. What if Duncan truly was dead? The thought scared her. How could she ever live without him?

  “I canna live like ye, Tillie, raisin’ yer children by yerself,” she whispered.

  “Mari?” Tillie cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. Her gaze flashed down to Mari’s hand on her stomach. “What’s the matter? Is there somethin’ ye are no’ tellin’ me? Are ye bairned?” Her eyes opened wide as she waited for Mari’s answer.

  “Nay,” scoffed Mari. “I am still a virgin, if that is what ye are askin’. Although I had a weak moment and would have given in if Duncan hadna been the strong one in the end.”

  “Children, go get in the cart and wait for us there.” Tillie sent her girls off and Artair ran after them to join the others. Then Tillie turned back to Mari and crossed her arms over her bosom. “Mari, I dinna ken how to tell ye this, but I overheard some of the women gossipin’ at the well.”

  “About me?” Mari’s hand flew to her chest and she started rubbing her locket between her fingers. “What did they say?”

  “Well, I heard gossip that ye are bein’ foolish, holdin’ out for Duncan when he’s never goin’ to return. The strumpet of the clan, Laria, said Duncan never really wanted ye in the first place.”

  “Laria said that, did she?” Mari waved her hand through the air, dismissing the thought. “She is no’ only jealous, but a liar. Dinna listen to a word she says.”

  “But she said ye are goin’ to be marryin’ another by Hogmanay.”

  “That’s a lie,” spat Mari. “The only person I’m goin’ to marry is Duncan.”

  “But . . . what if he’s dead? Dinna ye think he’d want ye to marry another man? Wouldna he want ye to be happy?”

  “I’ll never be happy with anyone but him. Now, I’ll no’ hear another word about this. Duncan and Angus are goin’ to return. I ken they will. And when they do, Duncan and I will marry just as we’ve planned all along.”

  “I hope ye are right, Sister.” Tillie flashed her a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “I hope ye are right.”

  When they rode into the courtyard, Mari saw Eideard coming from the keep accompanied by that gossiping Laria. There was a frown on his face.

  “Go on inside where it’s warm, children,” Mari called out, getting out of the wagon, followed by her sister.

  One of the older boys ran by with ivy clasped tightly in his fist. He was followed by the rest of the children coveting their woodland treasures.

  “Wait!” she cried out, causing the older boy to turn around. The rest of the children did the same.

  “What is it?” he asked in question.

  “Children, let me see what ye found to help decorate the great hall for the festivities.” Mari peeked into the bag that Ava carried. “I see holly and pinecones and some branches from the fir trees. Very nice.”

  “I even found some mistletoe so everyone can kiss,” said one of the older girls, holding a sprig above her head and making kissing motions with her mouth. The boys made faces and groaned while the girls giggled.

  “No one wants to kiss ye,” said Lucas, the eldest boy, motioning to the other three boys. “Let’s go.”

  “Whatever ye do, dinna bring that ivy into the castle,” Mari called after the boy, but he d
idn’t hear her. Everyone knew that ivy needed to stay outdoors. Bringing it into one’s home only meant a death would occur in the near future. Right now, with all Mari’s worries about Duncan, the last thing she wanted to think about was another death.

  Mari and Tillie made their way back to the castle, meeting Eideard and Laria at the bottom of the stairs leading to the entrance of the great hall. Mari never liked Laria since she always had her eye on Duncan. And just seeing Eideard made her stomach turn. She despised him taking control of the clan in Duncan’s absence. He’d always been trouble and never got along with Duncan. Since Mari’s arrival at MacLean Castle, she had tried several times talking to him about Duncan, but he always pushed her away. He’d told her Duncan and his brother were dead, and not to question him about it again.

  “Where were ye?” growled Eideard, talking to Mari and Tillie. “Laria tells me she saw ye leavin’ the castle unescorted.”

  “Laria should mind her own business,” said Mari, glaring at the petite, blond woman who always dressed like a whore.

  “I think I’ll go check on the meal since it is about to start.” Laria tugged at her bodice, exposing more cleavage and turned and swung her hips as she made her way back up the stairs. Every man there watched her with a smile on his face.

  “I’m sorry, Eideard. Time got away from us,” apologized Tillie. “We were collectin’ things from nature to decorate the great hall.”

  “Ye’ll call me Chieftain now as is proper,” he spat. “And I never said ye two and the children could go off without an escort. It had better no’ happen again.”

  “We didna think it mattered since we werena goin’ far,” Mari boldly spoke up, determined to prove to this man that he didn’t scare her the way he did everyone else. In Duncan’s absence, she’d become braver. “It’s Yuletide and there were no decorations for the holiday to be found anywhere in the castle. We were helpin’ Duncan’s mathair since she is too distraught lately to do anythin’ but cry.”

  “It’s a silly tradition, and I dinna care about holidays,” spat Eideard.

  “Well it means a lot to young ones as well as to the rest of the MacLean Clan,” Mari stated. “If Duncan were here he –”

  “Well Duncan’s no’ here!” Eideard cut her off. “He and his brathair are dead and it’s high time ye accept it, ye silly wench.” He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “After all, I would hate to discover my future wife is thinkin’ about another man when she is about to marry me.” He chuckled, and lowered his hand, grazing much too close to the side of her breast.

  “What?” she asked, aghast that he should say such a thing. “I’m no’ yer wife, and never will be.” She pushed his arm from her shoulders. “I am betrothed to Duncan.”

  “Ah, but ye will be mine soon,” said the man, as if he honestly thought so.

  Tillie and Mari exchanged worried glances as Eideard pulled a missive out of his sporran and opened it.

  “What is that?” she asked, feeling a knot in her stomach. She cringed, knowing something bad was about to happen.

  “This missive came today from yer faither.” He handed it to Mari. “Since Duncan is never comin’ back, yer faither has made an alliance with me. He’s agreed to our betrothal. Ye will be my wife now. And ye will bear me many children.”

  Mari’s hand shook as she quickly scanned the missive. Tillie looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, it was a parchment from her clan and her father’s words upon it agreed to her betrothal to Eideard.

  “How could my faither have made this decision without speakin’ to me first? Especially since I’m already betrothed.”

  “Ye are only a wench.” Eideard snatched the missive back and stuck it into his pouch. “Ye have no say in whom ye will marry.”

  “Nay, that’s no’ true,” she gasped. “I’m sure my faither would have mentioned this to me before agreein’. I want to go back to my clan and speak to him about it anon.”

  “Nay. He’s already left to campaign for our king overseas.”

  “When did this happen? And how is it that I ken nothin’ about it and yet ye do?”

  “My man, Baldair, met yer faither’s messenger on the road and intercepted the missive.”

  “I see,” she said, her eyes darting around the courtyard. She felt like an outcast since every man there now answered to Eideard. “Well, I will have to speak to my faither about this before anythin’ is final.”

  “There is nothin’ to talk about. The betrothal is already finalized and ye will be my wife.”

  She couldn’t fight Eideard about this. Not now when there was no one to back her. She had no choice but to pretend it didn’t bother her for now. Then, when everyone went to sleep tonight, she would find a way to sneak out and go home to find out the truth for herself. Even if her father was overseas, her clan would know if he’d truly betrothed her to Eideard. “Well, I suppose we’d better hurry to join the feast. After all, we dinna want to miss out on the sowan.”

  Sowan’s Nicht was a Scottish dish made from oat husks and fine meal. They’d steeped it for about a week in water until it went sour and then drained it. The bottom part was eaten like porridge while the swat, or liquid had been made into a fermented drink. It was a tradition to have it on Christmas Eve.

  Eideard ran his hand down her back, making her jump in surprise. She pushed him away. “Dinna touch me like that again.”

  This made him chuckle as he pulled his hand back. “Well, I suppose it willna kill me to wait a little while. But I warn ye, if ye act like that in our weddin’ bed, I’ll take my hand to yer behind.” By the glint in his eyes, it seemed to Mari that the thought almost excited or amused him. It sickened her even more.

  “A little while?” she asked, shocked to hear him say this. “But we’ve just become betrothed. I thought it would be at least a few months before we wed. We havena even posted the weddin’ banns yet on the door of the castle and the church as is proper.”

  “Why bother?” asked the man. “There is no need to do so and no need to wait. Now, hurry to the great hall and I’ll meet ye there in a few minutes.” Eideard turned and walked away to talk with some of his men.

  “Tillie, this is horrible!” cried Mari, her heart racing as well as her mind. She couldn’t marry Eideard because she was going to marry Duncan. She didn’t even like Eideard. “What was Faither thinkin’?”

  “Oh, Mari, I am so sorry,” said Tillie with concern in her voice. “I suppose Da didna want ye to be lonely and single since Duncan is . . .”

  “Dinna say it!” snapped Mari.

  “Sister, mayhap this is for yer own guid. Ye need to accept that Duncan isna comin’ back.”

  “Nay, I’ll never accept that. And neither will I ever marry that cur, Eideard.” She glared at the man from across the courtyard.

  “But ye have to, Mari. Faither has secured the deal with Eideard. There is nothin’ ye can do about it.”

  “I am goin’ to sneak out tonight and go back to our clan,” she whispered to her sister. “I need to ken if what Eideard says is the truth.”

  “Then I’m comin’ with ye,” answered her sister.

  “Nay.” Mari shook her head. “Ye have yer daughters to care for. Ye need to stay here with them.”

  “I’ll bring them along with us on the trip.”

  “It is too dangerous. Ye’d better stay here. I’ll be fine on my own.”

  “Nay, dinna do it, Mari. The roads are dangerous and ye could be attacked by bandits on the road or even killed.”

  “I have no other choice, Tillie. Eideard will never allow me to go back to our clan. I have to find out the truth because Hogmanay is in a sennight. The last thing in the world I want to do is to marry a man I truly despise.”

  “Then at least take the gypsy with ye. Mayhap Malmuira will be able to tell ye if ye are in for trouble and then ye could hide if ye are.”

  “Perhaps takin’ Malmuira with me wouldna be a bad idea,” agreed Mari. “Aye. I will ask for her
help. No one will question her leavin’ the castle. And while she’s with me, perhaps I can get her to read the cards and help me find Duncan.”

  “Mari, are ye sure ye really want to do this?” Tillie’s brow wrinkled. “After all, if Malmuira says Duncan’s dead, it is goin’ to crush ye.”

  “Aye, it will,” agreed Mari. “But if she tells me he is still alive, then it will give me hope that I can spend the rest of my life with the man I love.”

  Things were going as planned until right after the meal when Eideard raised his hand in the air to get everyone’s attention.

  “Listen to me,” he said, making Mari look up in question. “I’d like to announce my betrothal to Mari.”

  Mixed mumbles went up from the crowd.

  “Mari, please stand up and join me.”

  Mari did so, not realizing what was happening until Eideard waved his hand and a priest came to the foot of the dais.

  “What is this all about?” she asked, feeling a sickness in the pit of her stomach.

  “We’re gettin’ married . . . now,” said Eideard.

  “Now?” Her eyes shot open wide and she could barely breathe.

  “The guid priest will assist us in sayin’ our vows and, tonight, ye shall be my wife . . . in every way.”

  “Nay!” she cried, gripping on to the edge of the table. “We’ve just gotten betrothed. It’s too soon. It’s too early. We have to wait.”

  “There’s no need to wait. Now, please proceed,” he told the priest with a nod of his head.

  In total shock, and not sure what to do, Mari looked out at the sea of faces while Eideard repeated his vows. Then it was her turn and, before she knew it, the priest was telling her to say I do.

  “Nay,” she told Eideard through gritted teeth, glaring at him in disgust. “This is no’ right and I willna do it. I will never become yer bride.”

  “Keep yer voice down, wench,” said Eideard from the side of his mouth. “And I think ye’ll change yer mind just by lookin’ over at Baldair standin’ in the far corner.”