Knight's Blood (37 page)
Authors: Julianne Lee
Tags: #Kidnapping, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy fiction, #Married people, #Scotland, #General, #Fantasy, #Children - Crimes against, #Fighter pilots, #Fiction, #Time travel
Alex lowered his chin and hoped she would take the hint she should move along. He figured he knew what she was up to, and wished she would leave it alone. The men he had to deal with would not be comfortable with her around in a meeting like this. He knew she knew it, and he also knew she knew he knew it. She was neither stupid nor ignorant of the situation with these men and their culture. Particularly among these island Scots whose wives were barefoot and pregnant as a matter of course, and it was not a joke. Nor even an issue, for all the clansmen and their kin for hundreds of miles around took it as the natural way of the world.
But she only smiled at him and said, “Go on. You were saying about the families living on Cruachan. The ones who are getting a new master, and you want to know if you’re going to have to evict any of them.”
“I’m hoping not to have to.”
“You hoped not to have to purge this island of Bretons, but when their allegiance to the MacLeods outweighed in their hearts their lawful obligation to you, it came to a fight. Now we need to know whether there will be a fight when we take our men to Cruachan.” She turned to Donnchadh and asked, “Is there a castle?”
We?
Alex now frowned at Lindsay, but she ignored him.
Our
men?
Alex now frowned at Lindsay, but she ignored him.
Our
men?
Donnchadh looked at her, then at Alex as if to inquire whether he was supposed to answer his Lady Cruachan’s query. Alex wished Lindsay would knock it off and leave the room, but she pretended she didn’t know she was making the villagers uncomfortable. Alex nodded to Donnchadh, who shook his head and replied to Lindsay. “Nae, my lady, naught but a wee tower. A small keep on a bit of rock but a furlong offshore. The place is quite wild, and the population small.”
Alex’s hope of a large income from the place faded.
Lindsay continued her questioning. “Do the various families fight amongst themselves?”
Donnchadh shrugged. “Nae. The families there have their separate allegiances, but have lived more or less in peace and in the interim since Robert’s victory I’ve heard of no outbreaks. With the MacDonalds so numerous, the rest more than likely saw no use in making trouble. It’s cowed they are. I daresay, though, they’ll be glad to have the matter of their tribute settled. Hard to know who to welcome when the crown is yet uneasy on the king’s brow.”
Alex had to grunt in agreement to that, and Alasdair Ruadh nodded.
“Are there any young men on Eilean Aonarach waiting to marry for lack of a living?” asked the earl.
Donnchadh nodded. “Aye. Three of them.”
“Four,” said Alasdair Ruadh. “Brian’s youngest son will be fifteen soon, and has his eye on my daughter.”
“Does he?” Donnchadh’s eyebrows rose at this news.
“Indeed, and he’s a good lad. I would be glad to see them both in a new tenancy.”
“You’d see them off to Cruachan? Brian being a MacNeil and all, his son willnae be so welcomed by the MacDonalds.”
“They’d prosper.”
“And they wouldnae here?”
“There’s room for them on Cruachan, and the earl will make certain of peace from the MacDonalds there.” He nodded toward Alex as if to affirm his words.
Donnchadh looked to Alex, who said, “We’ll work it out. Everybody will have what they need.”
Lindsay threw him a look, and he ignored it. He knew someone was going to balk and cause problems or choose the wrong side at one point or another. He would deal with those things as they came. Meanwhile he needed to assure these men—and the village they would report back to at that evening’s
céilidh
—that he had a handle on the situation. He would do that with a lie if necessary.
céilidh
—that he had a handle on the situation. He would do that with a lie if necessary.
“In any case,” said Alex, “I’ll need to take more than just my knights with me when we go to Cruachan. You two tell the villagers I want fifty volunteers to accompany me as pikemen and archers. Fifty. Don’t make me come draft people.”
Donnchadh and Alasdair Ruadh both laughed, and Donnchadh said, “Have no fear, my lord, for your village is filled with men willing to fight for that land. Particularly the MacNeils, who have long felt the place belonged to them.”
Alex nodded, then called for pen and paper to have the MacConnells draw a map of the island for him. There they pored over the thing, talking into the afternoon of the lay of the land, its features and resources, and the placements of farm houses. Lindsay had the good grace to keep quiet now, but did not leave the room and listened closely to all that was said.
After the meeting, once the plate of beef had been demolished, the jug of mead emptied, and the geography of Cruachan firmly embedded in Alex’s memory, he and Lindsay retired to their quarters and some privacy. Gregor poured boiling water into the tub he’d prepared for his master, then Alex dismissed Gregor and Mary to have his bath and a talk with his wife. He began to strip, and his surcoat went onto the floor. Lindsay lounged in a chair by the fire, her legs crossed and one slippered toe poking from beneath her dress hem.
“Don’t do that again, Lindsay.”
“Do what?”
“What you just did. Out there.” He unbuckled his belt, which also dropped to the floor, and he began to untie the closure of his tunic. “Don’t interfere in my business. I know you want to live like—”
“Don’t presume to know what I want. You’ve no idea, because you haven’t asked.”
The tunic came off and he tossed it onto the bed, and he gazed at her a moment, wondering what bug had crawled up her butt that she was suddenly so irritable. But he went on. “You’re used to the way things were in London. In the future. It can’t be like that here.” His linen shirt came off over his head and he let it drop to the floor atop his surcoat.
“Of course not. It’s not the same for you here either. The difference between us being that you’re now a Scottish peer and I’m a bit of chattel.”
“Don’t start that.”
“Don’t pretend it’s not true.”
“It’s not. You’re my wife. And you’re a countess. That’s got to be a step up from writing human interest articles for the
London Times
.”
London Times
.”
“What I do in this castle is supervise servants who know their jobs better than I do. They come to me for orders, and I have to ask them what they usually do. Then I order them to do that. I daresay they think I’m fairly stupid. That’s not even a step up from what I was doing for An Reubair.”
Alex was disgusted to hear the faerie’s name. “You’d rather be a man than a woman.”
“No, I hated pretending to be a man. I hated the posturing and dominance games. You fellows can be unutterably silly with all that, you know, and I rather prefer not having to beat people up just to get their attention. I especially hated having to deny my anatomy. I mean, so what if I have to put a cloth into my drawers a few days a month? So what if I pee sitting down? What I liked was to be taken seriously. To be listened to and not ignored or condescended to. What I liked was to be included in the life going on around me. To have a voice in what would happen, particularly when it affected me. Is it too much to ask to be able to determine my life
and
get laid on occasion?”
and
get laid on occasion?”
“You have that.”
“No, I do not.” Anger began to redden her ears and neck, and the hard edge in her voice sharpened. “Not as long as I’m kept from knowing the details of what is going on. Not as long as I’m not kept informed.”
Alex went silent at that, realizing she was right but having no idea what could be done about it.
She leaned forward in her chair and continued. “Just as much as when I was pretending to be a man, my life as Marilyn MacNeil was also a lie. Not to mention a crashing bore. Were I to go back to it, I would be banging my head against these stone walls within a fortnight.” Her knuckles knocked against her forehead. “I couldn’t stand to feel my brain turn to mush the way it did before. It was hell to be stuck here with nothing to do all day but worry you might not come back.”
Backed against a wall, Alex lashed out. “Well, I’m sure your tenure with An Reubair was oh, so intellectually stimulating.”
“As you’ve often said, nearly dying in battle keeps one on one’s toes.”
“Lindsay—”
“I want to be your partner in all things.” She stood now, and stepped toward him. “Let me participate in your business.”
“No. You have your own business.”
“Yes, to support you. To look pretty for your friends who will then be impressed and give you land and let you help run the country. I remember you once denied having what you called ‘political sensibilities.’ Was it a conscious lie, or were you only fooling yourself?”
“I . . .” For a moment there was a mental whiplash effect as he saw his former American self superimposed over the Scottish earl he’d recently become. He had changed, but didn’t want to stop and decide whether for the better or worse. “I’m not a lieutenant in the U.S. Navy anymore.”
“I’ll say you’re not.”
“I have to function within this society now. I can’t give you authority. If I even appear weak, I’ll be subject to resistance. It’ll mean trouble. I can’t let you weaken my control over my knights or my vassals.”
“Alex, we’ll be strong together. Two heads better than one, and all that. I’ll fight by your side.”
Alex blinked at that.
Fight?
“No. No way. You’re not going into battle.”
Fight?
“No. No way. You’re not going into battle.”
“Why not?”
“Just . . . no.”
“Why not?”
“I couldn’t fight effectively if I had to think about you being there.”
“You did all right when I was your squire.”
“We weren’t married then.”
“You didn’t care about me then?” She knew better than that.
He blustered, in search of a reply, then said, “It’s hard to explain. It’s . . . you’re part of me now. I’m responsible for you now in ways I wasn’t then. You’re my
wife
, for crying out loud. I can’t let you ride into battle like that.”
wife
, for crying out loud. I can’t let you ride into battle like that.”
“And I’m supposed to be okay with you doing the same thing?” She crossed her arms and tilted her head in the manner of a chastising schoolteacher. “I think, dear, I’m going to have to put my foot down and say ‘No more fighting for you.’ Now that you’re my husband and you’re a part of me, I can’t let you go charging off into the teeth of Edward’s army.”
“Lindsay—”
“Alex, stop it. Just stop being a pig for a moment, and listen to me.”
He closed his mouth and pressed his lips together, forcing himself to listen to her though he knew he wasn’t going to like any of what she would say. His gut refused to let his mind encompass the thought of her riding into battle. But he shut up for the moment so she could speak and then maybe shut up herself. Letting her talk herself out seemed the only way to get any peace.
“Alex,” she said softly as she stepped closer to him, “I can’t live this way. And we know neither of us can return to the future.”
He did know that, for getting here had been too dicey. Going back, even if they could find someone to send them, might kill them. Now he knew why Danu had sent him to Nemed to return them last spring, rather than send them herself. It was the only way they could have made the trip without that risk. Nemed was no longer an option, so they were stuck.
Lindsay continued. “I have to do something with my life, or go mad. I’m just not built to hang around and pretend to be busy. I must be doing something. Contributing.”
“You do. You’re the reason I have for wanting to fight well, live, and come home.”
That brought a slight smile to her face and gave her brief pause, but then she said, “Merely existing to be in your thoughts and inspire you to greatness is a fine thing, but it doesn’t keep me occupied or give me purpose.”
“You’re a writer. So write.”
“About what? Alex, you’re still asking me to live in a vacuum, and I’m telling you I can’t do that. I won’t do that. As in, you will lose me one way or another if you refuse me this.”
Lose her. Yes, he knew she would leave if she decided she was unhappy enough. Unlike most pissed-off wives in this era, she knew how to live on her own and had the guts to do it. He sighed, defeated, and said, “What exactly is your plan?”
Other books
Murder at Breakfast by Steve Demaree
The Battle of Bayport by Franklin W. Dixon
Shut Off (Just This Once #3) by Cee Smith
The Telephone Booth Indian by Abbott Joseph Liebling
Soul Love by Lynda Waterhouse
The Bells by Richard Harvell
New Doctor at Northmoor by Anne Durham
Billionaire on Fire (Firefighter Billionaire Stand-Alone Romance) by Knightly, Lora
Alone (A Bone Secrets Novel) by Elliot, Kendra
The Cornish Affair by Lockington, Laura