The Draig's Choice Page 11

  “Sarah will keep me company, dinna fash. For the first time since our arrival here, I have a companion.” Elspeth’s claim warmed her heart, but Sarah roiled with conflict. Peter’s asking for help with the marriage mixed poorly with the girl’s need for a friend. Add in that the gorgeous young woman would have Conall, a man who stirred her heart for reasons unknown, and it all created a jumble in her head.

  Gordain offered his farewell and a spoke of returning as soon as he could manage. Elspeth wished him a fine day and Sarah turned back after the door closed. “How are you feeling?”

  “So much better. I wish I had asked for the remedy weeks ago. My pride kept me silent.” Elspeth grinned at her and then drained the remainder of the cup. “Will you stay for a wee bit?”

  “Just for a bit. Bella needs to be fed soon.” Sarah walked to the window covered in animal skins and pushed the covering aside to bring more light to the room. A sigh escaped her at the clear view of the sea and rolling waves glinting with morning light. “You have an amazing view.”

  “Aye, the chamber will suit me. ‘Tis finer than mine back home.” Elspeth compared the differences while Sarah inhaled air never sullied with pollution and cleansed with salty sea breezes. Even if it chilled her, the fresh scent soothed her frazzled mind.

  There were moments in a counseling session when the therapist made discoveries that conflicted with their personal standards of right and wrong. Her job had been to set aside her morals in exchange for guiding the patient according to their personal compass, and maybe expanding their envelope in the process. The same principles had guided her friendships, never intrude or assume unless invited. But her current situation left her mystified as to how to proceed.

  Still, Elspeth continued with a description of her home, the Campbell keep and lands. Sarah nodded appropriately and kept her eyes on the sea in the horizon. Happy memories were shared, and girlish giggles filled the room.

  When silence filled the space, Sarah turned and stared at the young woman who spoke with naiveté and innocence about wanting fine fabric, silly puppies in the barn, and craving sweets from the kitchen. She asked the question foremost on her mind. “How old are you?”

  Elspeth straightened in her chair and proudly declared, “I shall be seventeen in midsummer. Far too old to be avoiding a marriage.”

  Sarah nodded and kept a practiced smile on her face while internally seething at a teenager being forced to wed. “How old is Gordain?”

  If she had doubted her initial impression that the pair had deep emotions, Elspeth’s face confirmed it. The girl beamed with delight at his name and sighed before she spoke. “He will be eighteen summers. I have kenned him my whole life.” Again, Elspeth took off with stories of children playing, a youth beginning his training, and then abruptly stopped. Sarah assumed right before she gave away the beginnings of attraction.

  “Why do you need a personal guard?” asking Elspeth the same question she had asked Gordain, wondering if they conspired to be together.

  Elspeth rolled her eyes. “Tearlach had concerns I would flee in the night but fails to realize I have nowhere to go. I may have suggested he would need to keep a guard on me. Gordain offered his services.”

  Sarah chuckled at the ruse and the smug grin on her face. “Nicely done.”

  “My brother is easy to fool as he thinks I am witless like a wee bairn, nay a grown woman with thoughts all her own.” Sarah nodded at the statement even as she doubted the grown woman portion. Spoken like a stubborn teenager.

  “And you have convinced everyone here you’re a scared little mouse. Why?” Her curiosity had the better of her along with wanting to understand the undercurrents of what was happening around her in the foreign world.

  “Why? You must be jesting with me. Why would I even pretend to be content with the marriage to an enemy? If I had walked in eager to please, I would now be doing chores, or laundry, or working in the kitchen. Instead, I have the day to myself to do as I please.”

  “Are you merely avoiding work?” Sarah doubted it could be that simple. Or is she only a teenage girl acting out in a completely appropriate manner?

  The bold mockery faded from Elspeth. “As soon as I am wed, I will need to attend to the duties of the household, as such will nay be avoided. For the day, I am my own to mourn my fate, what will be lost to me and prepare for what ‘tis to come.” The girl rose and began pacing the room, her bare feet barely sounding over the dark furs that covered the floor.

  “For two more nights, Gordain keeps me safe from the laird. On the third, my life changes and there is naught that will halt it. I will become the Lady Draig in all ways.” Large brown eyes filled with tears and a choked sob came from Elspeth. “I will miss him.”

  Tears covered Elspeth’s cheeks and Sarah moved without thought to embrace the young woman. She held on tightly as the slender body shook and cried in her arms. Making soothing sounds, she let Elspeth cry.

  After a while, the sobs faded, to leave a quiet girl in her arms. A soft voice whispered, “Mayhap I will lie down. Will you come back later?”

  Sarah pulled back and wiped away remnants of tears from the girl’s face. “Of course, I will. Try to rest and I’ll check on you later.”

  Elspeth nodded, and Sarah took the hand that sought hers and walked to the bed. Pulling back the messed bedding, Sarah covered the girl with blankets. She strolled to the other side of the massive bed and fixed the covers that were skewed. Elspeth gave her a small smile and rolled away onto her side effectively hiding her face. The sigh she intended became a sharp inhale as she studied the other pillow on the bed that had a head print much too large to belong to Elspeth. Sarah knew what it meant. Gordain slept here.

  Memories flooded back from her freshman year in college and all her friends being back together for winter break. She remembered Rachel and the woe of an unmade bed. Two head prints meant two heads. Dating was perfectly acceptable. The boyfriend sleeping over when their parents had been out of town for the night hadn’t been.

  Sarah smiled at the memory and then put the pieces of the conversation with Elspeth together. Her head fell forward and self-loathing filled her with the certainty she was about to bring chaos into an already messed-up situation. Whatever friendship she had begun with the girl would be shattered. Lives were about to change.

  Chapter 9

  “This is bigger than two teenagers and puppy-love,” Peter stated calmly as he sat at a large table in a room that resembled an office situated down a corridor from the main hall. “Conall and Elspeth need to get married to appease a king and end a feud that threatens this clan. Do you even know what a feud can lead to? Crops are burned, people are injured and some die. Livestock is stolen. There isn’t a grocery store nearby. We need to protect the food supply.”

  Sarah rose from the chair before the desk and walked to the window behind Peter. She gazed at the green lawn and what appeared to be spring blossoms coming to life while she warred with sharing her thoughts. “I think there’s more to it.”

  She heard Peter rise and move to stand behind her. “What did she tell you?”

  Turning to face him, she had to decide how much she trusted Peter. For a moment, she fixated on the dog who rested on the stone floor after a quick meal in the kitchen. “Give me one good reason to break her confidence and believe that you are really about the greater good.”

  “I’m all you’ve got,” he replied with a small chuckle. “Like you, I’ve lost one life and had to face building another in a world that makes no sense to either of us. You’ve only had the brutal truth from me.”

  Sarah nodded and tried to recall what she knew about the time period only to wind up laughing and shaking her head. “Everything I know about the Middle Ages comes from romance novels and movies.”

  Peter grinned at her. “I only had movies as a reference, you may have an advantage.”

  Finding little humor in her situation, she said, “There’s also the fact that as a therapist, conversations are
protected by privacy laws. I know Elspeth isn’t a patient, but I’m loathe to break a confidence.”

  His face sobered. “What do you know?”

  “It’s more what I suspect. But I need to know, what are the expectations for Elspeth going into the marriage?” Sarah knew her question sounded vague.

  “We’re going in circles. Spill it before I assume the worst and lose my shit.” Peter placed his hands on her shoulders and waited.

  “I think that Gordain and Elspeth spent last night together and that it’s been going on for quite some time.” Sarah then had another thought that made her early morning with Conall seem disgusting. “Unless Conall has been spending his nights with her.”

  Peter dropped his hands. “If anyone was in her bed, it wasn’t Conall. The man is practically a monk.” His head tilted as he studied her. “What makes you think they’re sleeping together?”

  Sarah explained the pillow indentation and then recalled that Gordain’s shirt appeared wrinkled like a garment that had spent the night on a floor. “The evidence is circumstantial at best.”

  Peter nodded. “But if true, we have an issue. Elspeth is supposed to be a virgin.”

  “Seriously? But I doubt the same goes for the groom. That’s a ridiculous double standard.” Sarah walked away from Peter and moved to the other side of the desk.

  “Once I thought so too. I mean, I come from where you do, sort of. People have sex. But here it’s about hereditary bloodlines. The title of laird is handed down through the generations. Hence the whole ‘she has to be innocent’ thing,” Peter explained. “A marriage on Draig lands has its own unique customs. There isn’t a priest to bind them, only a contract and proof of the bedding in the form of a bloodstain on the sheets. It’s based on clan tradition dating back to the first Draig centuries ago. There’s one hell of a story there that I will happily share later.”

  Without facing him, she asked, “What happens if the bride is already pregnant?”

  In seconds, Peter was in front of her shaking his head. “Please tell me you are asking out of curiosity and not telling me what I think you are.”

  “I don’t know for certain, but the pieces add up.” Sarah debated and then spilled the rest. “Morning sickness, sleepovers, her concerns about being separated from her child, not a potential child, but her child.” She relayed the worries Elspeth had and how it made the pieces click together. “Do I even need to go into the psychology of teenage sexual behaviors when the father is not actively involved in the parenting? The statistics on earlier sexual activity are staggering.”

  Peter asked for a play-by-play of the morning with Elspeth and Sarah shared what she deemed important. “Shit.” It was all he said before walking to the door, opening it and bellowing for Lena.

  They stood in silence before the housekeeper eventually came into the study. “What is of such import?” Lena asked.

  “I need to know what was given to Elspeth to settle her stomach,” Peter demanded.

  Lena chuckled. “Good morrow, Sarah. I hope you slept well. As for the young lass, I gave her the blend with mint and other herbs. ‘Twas all I had on hand.”

  Peter swore again. “Isn’t that what you give to those with morning sickness?”

  The housekeeper immediately paled. “Aye, but the women in the kitchens did so for, well, the women whisper.”

  Peter lost his patience. “What do they say?”

  Lena sighed and pointed a finger at Peter. “They say what you have long suspected. Dinna attempt to fool me. A lass with fear over a marriage may lose her meal once or twice, but nay every morn. Such details we have already discussed.”

  “We speculated, nothing more,” Peter admitted and began stalking the chamber. “How long have the Campbells been here?” Again, he demanded without any sign of the jovial personality she had begun to associate with Peter.

  “Easily more than a moon.” Lena counted on her fingers. “Mayhap over five weeks, closer to six.”

  “Has she bled?” Peter snarled.

  Sarah interjected. “Not a fair question. Cycles can vary and aren’t always every twenty-eight days. Given the stress she faces with an unwanted marriage and a change in her living arrangements, it could easily effect and impact her hormones and menstrual cycle.” Peter ignored her.

  “Answer me, Lena.”

  Lena shook her head. “There has been no sign on her bedding. I would ken as I personally see to her chamber each day. Nor has she asked for the supplies she would need, but she may have her own.”

  “Is it likely you would know if she had bled?” Still, his voice held steel.

  “Aye, ‘tis almost always a trace on the bedding or on a shift. If I had to guess, I would say nay. The lass has shown no signs of a monthly course.” Lena sighed and turned to Sarah. “You spent time with the lass. Has she confided in you?”

  Sarah stood mute, not certain if she had done the right thing given the situation. Summoning her courage, she asked, “If she is, what will happen to her?” She hated the idea that her suspicions could have started something that threatened to spin out of control.

  “Not my issue, but the marriage will be off, not to mention the fragile peace is at risk and we could have one pissed off Bruce on our hands.”

  Lena offered, “We could keep quiet.”

  Peter weighed the option silently and then growled into the room. “Quiet would keep the peace and solve much. However, that could lead to the next laird not being a true Draig. Can you live with that?” His question came out as a challenge to Lena. “The bloodline means more to you than to me.”

  “A child is greater influenced by those who raise him or her than by blood.” Sarah asserted her opinion based on years of education and experience. “The would-be-child would see themselves as a Draig, regardless of parentage. Think adoption.”

  “I’m trying to,” Peter mumbled.

  Sarah added the obvious. “Don’t you think Conall should be given the choice? You can’t not tell him.”

  “What should I be told?” Conall asked as he entered the office. His emerald gaze swept over them and he stilled. “What ‘tis amiss?”

  Conall stared at Peter with hard eyes and then turned to Lena who looked away. Finally, his gaze fell to her and his features softened into a small grin. “Good morrow again, Sarah.”

  Bella rose from the floor and immediately sat at his feet with her tail thumping behind her. “Sweet dog,” Conall murmured as he bent to scratch her head. “Mayhap you will speak of what has gone awry so early in the day.” He teased with the dog, but serious eyes once again fell on Peter.

  “We may have a problem,” Peter began and then stumbled to explain. “There are some concerns about Elspeth.”

  Conall straightened and took a deep breath. “Name your concerns.” His words were measured and clipped, bearing no outward signs of concern.

  Peter glanced at Sarah, and then sighed wearily. “There is potential reason to suspect she may be unfit for marriage.”

  Sarah winced at the statement that avoided the heart of the matter. Then she cringed as Peter told Conall what she had shared. Through it all, Conall remained still and listened, but she saw his hands clench at his sides and felt the shift in his mood, light moving to dark as if it happened within her.

  “Find Tearlach. We must speak,” Conall commanded and Peter and Lena left the room. He shifted to face her and stared without blinking, his emerald gaze locked on hers.

  Her hands moved to smooth down her skirts that didn’t need attention, a purely nervous gesture. I started this chaos, now I need to face it. “I wasn’t trying to cause trouble. Peter explained to me how badly you need peace with the Campbell clan. But Elspeth was like an open book waiting to be read, and she revealed so much. I doubt she meant to, but she did.”

  “Are you apologizing?” Conall questioned as he took a step closer to her, having to move around the dog.

  “I am, and I will need to apologize to Elspeth. If it’s all my imagination,
then I am guilty of ruining her future for no reason.” Sarah wondered if her attraction to Conall had influenced what she had perceived. Light humming floated over her skin with his eyes on her and seeing an obstacle to impede his marriage would be a classic manifestation. Creating a preferred reality would be explainable, at least in her mind.

  “If what you think ‘tis true, you are saving me from a mistake beyond expression. Letting a child nay of Draig blood assume the mantle of laird one day would end my clan. For centuries we have cared for these lands and I had hoped to see the generations continue, nay place the sword of my ancestors in a Campbell bastard’s hands.”

  Forcing her head to turn away from his gaze that threatened to swallow her whole, she shook her head. “I may be seeing what isn’t there.”

  “‘Tis there reason you would lie to me?” His voice teased with humor as if he doubted her ability to bear any falsehood.

  “Not intentionally.” Her answer left out her real reason, not that she was going to spit out the truth. Well, every time I’m near you I have the incredible urge to jump on you so maybe I’m finding excuses for you to be with me and not her. As if any man wouldn’t want the lovely blonde with perfect skin who moved with grace, rather than her freckles and freakishly red hair. What’s up with my self-doubt? Rachel, I need you. Clearly, I did let Scott into my head. Shame on me for letting his crap dampen my ego.

  Like he had earlier in the day, Conall’s hand rose to cup her cheek. His voice crept over her and washed away the feeling she had done wrong. “I should have kenned the fates sent you to me for a fine reason. You have mayhap protected and saved the Draig lineage. In every way you have proved yourself a woman of legend in my eyes. Awe fills me that you have come to save me.”

  His warmth seeped into her skin and she nestled against his palm, certain that she should pull away, but she lacked the resolve. “I may have only created chaos where none existed.”

  Conall shook his head and his dark mane swayed for what seemed like her personal delight. “Nay, Sarah. At best you have saved me. At worst, I shall wait for proof that no bairn exists. You have done well.”