Page 27 of A Bride for the Kilted Beast

Diarmaid shrugged. “How can I tell? All I ken just now is that we need tae get this letter written tae Laird MacDonald and sent by messenger right away. Now, come on, Braither, help me.”

The morning passed as the brothers labored over the correct wording of the letter, knowing how important it was to get it exactly right, so as to avoid any unpleasant misunderstandings with the powerful Laird MacDonald. Diarmaid did not want a quarrel with him as well as with the Lennoxes.

“Right, I think this is the final version,” Diarmaid declared at last, putting his quill down with a sigh of relief. “Here, read it out.” He shoved the parchment at Ciarán and settled back in his chair, putting his feet on the desk.

Ciarán obliged. Then, they made a few minor adjustments and eventually declared themselves satisfied.

“I’ll get this copied out by a scribe. Ye can get a messenger sent off as soon as its done,” Diarmaid said, rolling up the parchment and putting it inside his coat. “Right, Braither. The hours are passin’. I’ll meet ye up on the battlements shortly, tae join ye on patrol.”

“Aye. I’ll see ye then,” Ciarán agreed. He got up, yawned widely, and stretched his limbs. The brothers left the room together, Ciarán heading to the battlements, while Diarmaid went in search of a scribe to copy out the letter, for he had no appetite to write the whole thing out again neatly in his own hand. He was passing down the main hallway when the sound of childish laughter floated to his ears from the dining hall.

Intrigued, he turned and went to see what was going on. When he reached the doorway of the hall and peeped inside, he stopped dead. He had expected to see the castle children, the orphaned waifs he had given a home, playing. He did not expect to see his wife, who appeared more animated than he had ever seen her, sitting at the top table, surrounded by the castle waifs, talking to them, smiling and laughing.

He withdrew slightly, staying out of sight, noting the three guards charged with protecting her were seated at a table on the opposite side of the hall. But they appeared uninterested in what was happening. Diarmaid turned his attention to Lillie, watching her as she chatted to the children, their laughter ringing out now and again. They were all clearly in high spirits.

He had never seen her like that, smiling and laughing as she talked with the children, who were notoriously shy and unforthcoming to strangers. Yet she had already made friends with them. The sight moved him greatly, and he felt a warm glow in the region of his heart for his new wife.

Then, he saw something that surprised him ever more. Lillie had offered some of her breakfast to the bairns, who took it eagerly. As he watched, Diarmaid saw that one of the little girls began choking, going red then blue in the face as she coughed uncontrollably. He was poised to intervene when Lillie suddenly leapt to her feet and seized the child around the waist, delivering her a hard jolt that sent a morsel of bread flying across the room. Diarmaid breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the child could breathe again! Lillie comforted her kindly, while the other children gathered around them.

Diarmaid was deeply impressed by what Lillie had done. She had seen what was happening and had acted quickly and decisively to remedy the situation. No doubt, she had saved the girl’s life. Once again, he realized how little he knew his wife. His heart clenched as it filled with a strange new affection for her.

He watched for a few more minutes, smiling to himself, before turning away and going about his business. As he strode along, heading for the library, he decided to stop off at the kitchen and order dinner to be served to him and Lillie in his chambers that evening. He found himself very much looking forward to spending time with his wife, and not just because he planned to consummate their marriage.

“So, Braither, ye’re confidant we’re ready fer anything Lennox might decide tae throw at us, are ye?” Diarmaid asked Ciarán, his official Captain of Arms, later on as the pair took a last look along the battlements. Darkness had fallen, and torches burned brightly from their wall sconces, lighting the brothers’ way along the broad pavement that ran around the inside of the castle roof. They passed barrels full of fresh arrows which stood every few yards. Men saluted as they passed.

“Aye, I am so. I’ve sent scouts out all the way tae Leonardstown, so if he does come, which I’m doubtful he will, we’ll have plenty o’ warnin’,” Ciarán replied.

“Why d’ye doubt he’ll come fer her, then?” Diarmaid asked, curiously.

“I just dinnae think Lennox senior is seriously gonna send his whole army against us just because Odhrán’s thrown his teething ring out of the cradle over a lassie. Even if she is McIrving’s daughter.”

“Aye, I think the same, but ’tis best tae be ready for the worst, eh? More than likely, Odhrán will come with just a few men.” He looked speculatively out over the dark valley below, where just a few lights twinkled, hoping he was right.

“Or maybe he willnae come at all, eh?” Ciarán suggested, grinning Diarmaid and clapping him on the back.

“Ach, nae, we want him tae come, so we can find out the truth about Maddison, and maybe even get her back,” Diarmaid explained.

“Ye mean tae trade Lillie for Maddison.” It was not a question but a statement from his brother, who frowned at him.

“I dinnae want tae, Braither, but if it becomes necessary to get Maddison released, then of course I’ll dae it.”

“Aye, I ken it well,” Ciarán replied, but Diarmaid recognized the regret in his brother’s voice. And he understood completely how he felt. He deliberately pushed the unpleasant thought aside, focusing instead on the fact that his as yet untouched bride should now be awaiting his return in his chambers.

He’d had the bright idea of moving her over there that morning. She would be on his territory and, therefore, at a greater disadvantage than before—just in case she was thinking of attacking him again. He made a mental note to search her for weapons.

He and Ciarán reached one of the small stone bridges that linked the battlements to the keep and crossed it side by side. They pushed through a rough wooden door and took the winding staircase leading to the lower levels of the keep via one of the castle’s large defensive towers.

“I dinnae ken about ye, Braither, but I’m starvin’. I intend tae wash up and then go down fer me dinner. Will ye be joinin’ us in the hall tonight with yer bride?” Ciarán asked when they reached the first-floor landing and turned off for their neighboring chambers.

“Nay, nae tonight. Lillie was nae feelin’ well, so I’ve ordered dinner tae be served in me chambers,” Diarmaid told him, a nugget of excitement growing in his belly as he spoke.

“Very well, enjoy yer dinner then.” Ciarán clapped his brother on the shoulder and winked at him before disappearing into his rooms.

Diarmaid stood regarding the doors to his chambers for a moment, allowing the feeling of excitement to expand slightly, imagining what was going to shortly take place inside with his new wife. But he was conscious of a small modicum of trepidation also as he took a deep breath and entered.

The first thing he noticed was that the large chamber was bright, warm, and welcoming, with a fire blazing in the grate. The second thing was the fresh scent in the air, a mixture of roses and bergamot perhaps. And the third thing was the sight of his wife, sitting before the hearth in his favorite armchair, reading a book.

She was dressed in a gown of pale blue, her stockinged feet propped up on the fender, looking like a picture from a book of fairytales—the princess imprisoned in a lonely tower by a monster. It was her hair that really caught his eye. It had obviously been recently washed, and unfettered, like a river of gold, it cascaded loosely down her back to her waist. Flickering firelight played across its lengths, reminding him of sunlight dancing on water. His groin tightened at the sight, and his heart began to beat more loudly in his chest.