Aidan finished eating. His mother finished eating. His father savoured every mouthful of food or ale as though it was his last. It was at times such as this one when his father made everyone dance to his tune and Aidan knew the Beast of the Highlands relished it.
‘Connor,’ his mother said, ‘we have waited long enough. There is news, I know it, so just tell us what you plan to tell us. I suspect there are preparations to be made?’
He winked when his mother looked at him. They both knew his father’s methods, but she dared to question him freely. A habit years in the making and one that his father never put a stop to.
‘News of the Sinclairs’ arrival here early has spread and I’ve word from both of the other families that they will be here within days. So, Aidan, you will have the chance to renew your acquaintance with Alys MacKenzie and to meet Elizabeth Maxwell.’
He must have reacted at the MacKenzie name, for his father’s gaze narrowed at him then, realising why he might have raised an objection to one of that clan being considered for wife when she’d been named.
‘So, I expect you to spend time with each of them as you did Lady Margaret.’
‘I know my duty, Father,’ he said. ‘If you will excuse me now, I have things to see to.’ He began to stand when his father grabbed his arm.
‘Sit.’
Aidan took his seat once more, anger spilling into his blood.
‘You have duties to attend to here. Stay out of the village until the Maxwells and MacKenzies leave. I would not have them insulted by your attentions elsewhere.’
‘I have done whatever you’ve required of me these last weeks, Father. And I will do what is my duty when they arrive.’
‘Do not make me take action to ensure that.’
He sucked in a breath, even as his mother hissed.
‘Connor!’ she whispered. ‘That is not necessary.’
‘Is it, Aidan?’
His father could and would do whatever was necessary to ensure his intentions were carried out. He would take whatever actions he needed to take to protect his clan, and if that meant ridding his son of a leman who was in the way of his plans, he would. So, at this point, Aidan did the expected thing and acquiesced as he would have to until he could come up with his own plan.
‘Nay, Father. I understand what you expect of me.’ Seething inside from his inability to challenge his father in this matter, he stood then and pushed back against the unwelcome restraints on him. ‘Until the MacKenzies and Maxwells arrive, you know where to find me.’
He waited for his father to forbid him, but his mother’s whispered words in his ear must have had some effect. With the slightest of nods, his father relented. Aidan strode from the table through the hall, all the time trying to rein in his temper and forcing himself to remain calm. His father had formidable resources and Aidan needed a plan if he was to go against him.
But right now, right now he needed to see Catriona. He missed her, missed her sense of humour and her way of seeing things clearly even when he wanted to ignore the reality of what they faced. Mostly, he just needed her assurance that she would not leave him.
* * *
‘So, what do you think?’ Catriona asked Muireall.
Days had passed since she’d spoken to Ciara. She avoided the woman now, afraid that what she’d suspected was true. Days during which Aidan remained at the keep or elsewhere doing his father’s bidding and trying to decide which woman would be his bride. Her stomach quaked at that thought and threatened to erupt again.
As it did when she smelled any meat cooking. Or when she smelled certain herbs and flowers. Or when she woke in the morning.
At other times, she wondered if she was losing her mind, for she had no ill signs. Then an aroma would waft past her and it would begin. The vomiting, the dizziness, sometimes she even began to lose consciousness.
Two weeks of suffering had led her to do the one thing she did not wish to do—discuss this with Muireall. But, who else could she trust? Ciara’s first loyalty was to the laird, so she knew it was but a matter of time before she shared this news.
‘And your courses?’ Muireall asked. ‘Have they come at all these last years?’
‘Aye, but not often and never in any kind of rhythm.’
The healer told her she could never carry and Cat had believed the woman. And she never worried over getting pregnant because she could not. Over the years with Gowan, it became nothing to think on because he’d left her bed very early in their marriage. So, when Aidan took her to bed, she never considered the possibility.
‘Since Aidan began visiting you?’
‘Not once.’ The words echoed into the silence that gathered around them.
