Seducing the Highlander (7 page)

“Where do you want these?” Brenna asked, waving a wad of ribbons in the air.

“Let’s put them . . .” Meriel began, pondering the question as she examined the various piles on the floor. She knew others thought her mess had no reasoning behind it, but they were wrong. She just preferred to always be able to view her things. For when they were put away, she forgot that she had them. However, needing her things out where she could see them did not mean they could be just anywhere. “. . . over there. On that chest. Aye, let’s remove the materials there now and spread them out on the rug, and instead, put the ribbons and thread on top so they will be out of the way.”

Maegan’s eyebrows rose with unconcealed amusement. “How many bags did you bring?” Maegan asked as she grabbed one of the heavier ones and swung it on the bed next to Brenna.

Meriel laughed. “Not nearly as many as I did the first time.”

Maegan tilted her chin back in disbelief and then, with a shrug of acceptance, said matter-of-factly, “I think you should fall in love and marry Craig.” Meriel’s heart stopped as she watched the young woman open up the bag and peer inside. Had anyone said anything? Meriel thought she had been very discreet with the inner turmoil she had been experiencing. “You and he are so messy that you are the only ones who could live with each other and still be happy,” Maegan finished, and Meriel felt a rush of relief.

Brenna giggled. “Meriel cannot marry Craig. He says he is
never
going to fall in love.
I
think she should marry
Hamish
.”

Comforted that neither girl had any insight as to her true reasons for visiting, Meriel regained her composure and said cheerfully, “
I
have no intention of marrying anyone! I have come to relax and visit, neither of which requires a man or being in love.”

Ignoring the declaration, Maegan tapped a finger on her chin and stared at Brenna. “You know, Hamish
is
rather good-looking, and I have heard the girl he was after refused him.”

“Wyenda rejected him?” Meriel asked without thinking. She was surprised anyone would give up a chance to catch Hamish. After she had finally disposed of most of her mistaken assumptions about him, she had decided that he was not only an attractive man, but he had a generous soul that could make a girl’s heart melt.

Maegan’s sky-blue eyes widened in shock. “
Wyenda?
Hamish was chasing after that
spùllach
Wyenda?” she repeated with outright disdain.

Meriel bit the inside of her cheek. Avaricious was not exactly a flattering description, and Meriel wondered if Maegan had spoken out of turn when Brenna said, “Men have liked her for
ever
. But she thinks she is
too
beautiful for anyone—even Hamish and my uncle Craig. She wants to marry a nobleman or someone
rich
like Iain Matheson. I heard her say so myself.”

Meriel sat up. Had she misunderstood? Or at one time had Craig sought Wyenda’s attention? “Is she truly that pretty?”

Maegan shrugged. “She must be. All the men follow her around.”

“Hamish doesn’t like her anymore,” Brenna stated matter-of-factly.

“And just how do you know that?” Meriel asked, immediately wishing she could retract the question. Brenna was notorious for knowing practically everything that was happening around the castle, for she was an expert eavesdropper. She was not exactly a gossip, as she did not run around telling all that she overheard at every opportunity, but then neither did she feel the need to keep the information private if the subject came up.

“I heard Hamish telling Gilroy yesterday, by the silversmith’s. He didn’t make a lot of sense because he said that Wyenda didn’t realize just what she was giving up. So, doesn’t that mean Hamish doesn’t like her anymore?”

Maegan sighed. “Not exactly. But hopefully he will soon figure out who she is and stop embarrassing himself by chasing her.”

Brenna frowned. “Why doesn’t Hamish chase you, Meriel? Oh . . . oh . . . oh, I know! You could go after him! And I could help you! You and he are already friends and he is
sooo
nice. He always swings me around whenever I ask.”

Meriel smiled. The qualifications of love for an eight-year-old were significantly more simple. At what age did it become complicated? “I’m not sure one can change their feelings about someone that quickly.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s like this room,” Meriel said, trying to think of an explanation Brenna would understand. “Even if I wanted to give up being messy and become neat and organized, I couldn’t suddenly change my habits. It takes time.”

“If only I could let my room look like yours. Then I would never change because I would never have to clean
any
thing!” Brenna exclaimed, tossing an undergarment into the air.

Maegan gave the little girl a disapproving look before scooping up the sheer frock and folding it. Then, looking around and realizing there was nowhere to put it, she let it drop back to the floor with a sigh. “It’s fun, I guess, but I would not want to live this way.”

“That’s because you don’t think
Clyde
wants to live this way. If he did, not a thing you owned would be where it belonged.”

Maegan narrowed her gaze and then, without thought, grabbed the remaining pillow on the bed and took a threatening stance. The action only spurred Brenna to comment further, and she jumped off the bed and out of reach. “Save me, Meriel!”

“How about I show you how to braid your hair instead?”

The little girl’s eyes gleamed. “Really? Like yours?” At Meriel’s nod, Brenna jumped back on the bed and proudly announced to Maegan, “Meriel is going to make me a new dress.”

“And I am also making your brother, Braeden, a new leine,” Meriel added, beginning to brush the young girl’s tresses with long strokes.

“You’ll have to catch him first,” Brenna said, trying not to wince as the brush became caught in one of the knots in her curly hair.

Maegan finished emptying the bag she had been working on and moved to the next one. In it she found four gowns. As she pulled them out, her eyes grew bigger as each seemed even prettier than the last. Laying the last one down, she fondled the light material. She had never seen anything so beautiful.

The bliaut was made of ivory silk that opened up at the hem to reveal an undergown of pale rose. Long fitted sleeves, puffed slightly at the shoulders, echoed the elegant high collar that came down into a low V-neckline. The edge of the neckline was embroidered in delicate pink flowers and pale green leaves that matched the design of the loose belt. Maegan could only imagine what it looked like on. “Do you think I would look pretty in something like this?”

Hearing the hesitancy in Maegan’s voice, Meriel paused and studied the young woman as she held the gown against her figure. The design required more bosom than Maegan had, and the girl needed something with more color, but never would Meriel utter those words. It was the first time she had heard Maegan say anything about improving her appearance and making herself more attractive. “Would you mind if I make you a gown while I’m here? I could show you how to embroider the edges so that you could make it your own.”

Maegan released the ivory bliaut and was about to shake her head, denying her ability to create such a vision, when she spied Brenna’s taunting stare. Smoky eyes were daring her to reject the offer. “Thank you. I accept.”

Seeing the exchange, Meriel offered, “I promise you, it will be beautiful. So much so that when Clyde does return, he will not have eyes for anyone but you.”

 

 

Meriel entered the Great Hall through the large doors, eager for the evening meal. For two weeks, she had pushed thoughts of Craig aside by immersing herself in materials and patterns, creating one garment after another. Today, she had finished Braeden’s leine and new kilt and even managed to get the young boy to try them on; thankfully, they fit. Maegan’s idea of using one of his old shirts as the pattern for a new, slightly larger one had turned out to be brilliant.

Bonny, Laurel’s youngest child, who had turned five years old during the summer, and Brenna had been eager participants and had persuaded their father to allow Meriel to use the prized material he had originally procured just for his wife. With access to a stockpile of heavenly materials, the number of garments that could be made was practically unlimited. At first, Meriel had embraced the wealth of work available, for it kept her mind off home, her family, and Craig.

She usually ate the morning and noon meals in the hall with Laurel, Bonny, Brenna, and Maegan, and oftentimes Laurel’s best friend, Aileen. The nights, however, were hard. She found herself withdrawing rather than reaching out to the few friends she had made.

At home, right after the main meal, she was used to sitting quietly by the fire and talking with either her sister or Craig. To avoid memories of those treasured moments, she typically ate in her room. Then, if the weather permitted, she would venture out onto the curtain wall to look at the stars, thinking . . . and remembering. She had been gone a fortnight, and nothing had changed. Craig had not come after her and, unfortunately, she was no closer to walling off her heart. She still loved Craig, and despite her belief that he loved her as well, being apart was not going to convince him to discuss their feelings and decide together if their relationship should evolve into something more.

She needed to let him go. She just needed to know how.

If time was the answer, it was going to take more than she had. McTiernay Castle was supposed to be a temporary haven where she could sort out her emotions and move on. She had never intended to hide within its walls for more than a month, but at the rate her heart was healing, she would need to remain with the McTiernays throughout the winter and into spring—something her father would most likely protest vehemently. But until she had a plan . . . a way . . . some idea of how she was going to see, talk, and be around Craig without breaking down, she could not return.

Tonight, however, Craig would not be the first and foremost problem on her mind. His brother Conan would be.

Maegan—being Maegan—conspired with Laurel to compel Meriel to dine in the Great Hall with a small group of friends and family. In order to oblige Meriel to attend, the meal was in honor of her and the work she had done for Laird and Lady McTiernay’s children. Meriel tried to have it postponed until she had finished her gowns for Laurel, Aileen, and Maegan, but the suggestion had not even been considered. Meriel was to come to dine with family and friends and that was that. Unfortunately, “family” also meant Conan McTiernay would be there as well.

Craig had six brothers. Three older and three younger, if you accepted his claim that he was the elder twin. After Crevan came Conan and Clyde. All of them, with the exception of Conor—Laird McTiernay—and Conan, were living elsewhere, either in support of a brother or chieftain of a clan.

Conan, like all the McTiernays, was a gifted strategist and a cunning fighter. He had the ability to lead, but not the personality or the patience. The man had a mind superior to all those around him and he never wasted a chance to make it known that he considered women to be inferior intellectually.

Last year, Raelynd had confronted his prejudice and quite relished getting the upper hand in the mental battle he waged when she and Meriel first arrived. Unfortunately, the encounter had not garnered Meriel his respect, only a suspension of any more of her sister’s verbal attacks. The truce that had developed between him and Raelynd had not extended to Meriel. A fact which Conan had made clear soon after Meriel arrived two weeks ago.

With his study on the fourth floor, directly above the bedchamber she occupied, she could have heard his movements even if he had not intended for her to. But the inordinately loud thumping and periodic dropping of something heavy on the floor were so obvious that not even a fool could mistake the meaning.

What Conan had yet to realize was that Meriel was not her sister. And while she possessed a more even-tempered and tolerant demeanor, she was far more stubborn. Something he would discover tonight.

With its large windows and high vaulted ceiling, the McTiernay Great Hall was one of the most majestic in the Highlands. Despite its size, it was also one of the most welcoming. Tonight was no exception. A single long table was set up near the far wall’s canopied fireplace, enabling diners to converse without having to shout or strain to hear.

Meriel fought a grimace as she strolled toward the assembled group. She knew she should have arrived even earlier than she had. She was not late, but considering Lady McTiernay’s affinity for beginning the evening meal exactly on time, everyone was already present, with one exception—Laird McTiernay.

Maegan was nestled next to Laurel and Laurel’s friend Aileen. Across from them were Aileen’s husband, Finn, the commander of the McTiernays’ elite guard, and a few of his men, including Hamish. That left only one available space on the bench—right next to Conan. No doubt the ogre had arranged for her to sit by him.

Hamish’s hazel eyes caught her look of dismay and he immediately stood up, ordering the other two soldiers to slide down so that he could place himself right across from Conan. Meriel issued him a warm glance of appreciation and proceeded to stand next to Conan while everyone waited for Conor to arrive.

Unable to wait even a single minute to deliver his first barb, Conan leaned over and murmured, loud enough for those nearby to hear, “Well, well, well. So the rumors are true. Lady Meriel has joined our little family once more. Are you still chasing after my brother Craig?”

Meriel gasped, her eyes widening to saucer size.

Hamish rallied to her defense. “As Craig is at Caireoch and Meriel is here by
her
choice, your question is rather a senseless one.”