Fractured Love... Broken Promises Read online

  “Well Son...what think ye of the lass?”

  “She be younger than I believed.”

  “Aye...just ten and eight. But that means many child-bearing years.”

  “Aye. There is that.” He laughed at the concerned look on his father’s face. “She will do, Faither. I am nae displeased so do nae fash yourself. I believe we will suit just fine.”

  Chapter Three

  Tears spilled over onto the parchment as Coll’s words pierced her heart. It was a clean break. He left no hope of having any feelings for her except friendship. How can he be so fickle? He says that all thoughts of me left him the moment he laid eyes on Ailsa. How can that be? Did he nae say he loved me? Tis true that I do nae feel the same but there was a chance of it in the future.

  And in the same breath he urges me ta wed his brother! How could he? Why does he do this? To assuage his guilt at leading me on? I will nae do it! I will run away! A rebellious look crossed her face before she sighed in defeat. There was no where to go and besides...it was treason to disobey the king. No. She would wed him...but I will nae like it! Or him! He will rue the day he met me!

  He awaited Heather’s departure outside her door to escort her to sup. She needed to adjust to his attentiveness...whether she cared for it or not. And at the moment, she wanted nothing to do with him. Blane understood her reluctance but he could not let it stand. He straightened as her door opened.

  “What are ye doing skulking outside me door? I will nae be offering ye any favors in advance... be-trothed or nae!”

  He was startled at the sharpness of her tongue but attempted to ignore it.

  “I merely came ta escort ye ta sup, my lady, naught more.”

  “Oh. Well ye be forewarned then. I only agreed ta this union because of the king and twill be on paper only. Ye will nae be bedding me!”

  Blane stood stock-still before her as he pierced her with his eyes. A flash of anger flitted past so fast that she thought she may have imagined it. Heather took a wee step back as she feared she had said too much. It was not wise to anger a mountain that could squash you like a bug.

  He was angry for a brief moment but the moment passed. So the wee lass thinks she will dictate the terms of our wedding! That will nae happen. I like her spirit...she does nae fear me overmuch. But she will need ta learn her place. A smile crossed his lips as he imagined what he would teach her...and how he would do it. Without speaking a word, he held out his arm for her to take. Neither spoke another word as they made their way to the great hall.

  The evening was progressing fairly well. Heather was civil to her betrothed but nothing more, speaking only when he asked a question. The castle maids were all tittering about the handsome knight behind their hands. Some giggling while others sighed. He flashed a smile at a particularly buxom maid, just to see if he would get a reaction from Heather.

  She gave an unladylike snort as the maid nearly swooned. Blane glanced at her in feigned surprise.

  “Is there a problem, my lady?”

  “Aye. I would think so! Ye will nae be dallying with the maids! Twould be insulting me!”

  “Ahh, I see. I am ta be celibate for the rest of me days. And what of ye?”

  She gasped at the implied insult.

  “Well I never—!”

  “That be obvious if ye expect such from me. If ye had kenned the act of joining...ye would nae ask me ta deny me carnal urges.”

  “How dare ye speak ta me thus!”

  A dark scowl descended on his face as his voice fell dangerously low.

  “Since I arrived, I have been naught but courteous and understanding of your feelings. In return, I have received insults and threats! Twill nae stand, my lady! Ye will keep a civil tongue in your head from this moment on or I will consummate the wedding before the vows! Do ye understand me?”

  Her mouth gaped in astonishment! That was the most words she had heard him speak at one time. Heather nodded as he raised a questioning brow.

  “Just so ye ken...I am nae afraid of ye, my lord. But I will do this for Maither’s sake, nae yours.”

  “I have nae wish for ye ta fear me, lass. A little respect would be appreciated though.”

  She eyed the dark giant as she mulled over his words. He was right, of course. She had thrown all of her anger toward Coll at his innocent brother. It was unwarranted.

  “Forgive me, Sir Blane. I am angry with Coll...nae ye. Me behavior has been misdirected.”

  Pleased, he genuinely smiled at her. She will make a good wife. Someone who is nae afraid ta admit their errors is a treasure indeed!

  “Tis forgotten, Heather.”

  Lady Macrae had been observing the angry exchange between the couple and decided to intervene.

  “Heather, dear, why do ye nae tell us what was in the missive from Coll?”

  She visibly cringed. Blane’s huge hand gave hers a light squeeze as he observed her discomfort.

  “My lady, I do nae wish ta pry into Heather’s private affairs. Coll told us already that it was just ta inform her of his bride.”

  She flashed her betrothed a grateful smile.

  “Aye. Coll said as much ta me afore he rode ta the Macleod’s ta claim his intended.” Fingal chimed in.

  “Oh, well, I did nae mean ta pry. Twas just a silly thought that escaped me lips.” Nessa glanced about the table before adding, “Tis getting late, my dear. If ye gentlemen will excuse us...?”

  “Certainly.” Fingal and Blane both stood as the ladies departed. Retrieving their tankards, the men settled themselves before the monstrous hearth that engulfed the chamber.

  Fingal was silent for a time, knowing the awk-ward position that he had put his son in.

  “Ye will still be the chieftain of the clan, Blane, in spite of all this.”

  He glanced up, a bit surprised. “I never thought otherwise, Da. But where does this leave Coll?”

  Glancing about, he spoke softly in reply. “I am nae certain...yet. Mayhap, he will take the Macleod name and inherit their clan. There be nae sons ta contest it, and Ailsa is his only child. If nae, then, perhaps I will section off a portion of our lands for him.”

  “Why nae give him these lands? They be his by right of blood...bastard or nae.”

  “Twould be fitting, aye. But how ta explain it ta the lass?”

  “I will need a steward when I become chief...why nae Coll? Her anger will pass in time.”

  “Aye. There is much wisdom in your words, Blane.” He smiled at his son. “Ye just might make a halfway decent chief after all.”

  Fingal laughed, picturing his son’s stunned face as he left for his bed.

  Ina arrived shortly after daybreak with her entourage. Blane and Fingal made their way to the training yard to escape the hustle and bustle as the matrons began their wedding preparations.

  Heather had been confined to her chambers as the mothers and seamstresses worked frantically to finish her gown in time. By the eve before her nuptials she had been poked, prodded and tugged enough to make her want to scream.

  She finally found a chance to escape after the evening meal and she took it. When everyone was distracted by a man juggling knives for their en-tertainment, she slipped out of the hall into the bailey for some fresh air.

  Gazing up at the star-filled sky, she wondered what the Fates had in store for her. All her hopes and dreams had revolved around Coll. Now her future appeared blank before her...like a fresh sheet of parchment.

  Blane was a mystery to her. Coll had not spoken of him much except to say that he was a war-monger...a slayer of men! He did not approve of his brother, that much was evident to her. She sighed.

  Twill do nae good to fret about it. Me fate is sealed. The king demands it and we need someone ta protect us... a strong warrior, and if naught else is said, I vow he is very strong!

  Heather shivered as she briskly rubbed her arms. She should have grabbed her cloak as she left the keep.

  She jumped, startled, as a huge mantle was draped over her sho
ulders instantly warming her. Piercing green eyes met hers as she glanced up. A nervous giggle escaped her lips.

  “For a mountain...ye certainly move quietly.”

  Blane grinned in response, enjoying the sparkle flickering in her eye. She was so petite. The top of her head did not even reach his shoulder. He will need to be careful that he does not crush her with his size.

  “There are times when it is required, my lady.”

  She peered up at him as she considered her next question.

  “Coll did nae speak of ye with much fondness when I last saw him. I do nae believe he approved of your profession.”

  “Me brother did nae understand the why of it. Ta serve the king well is an honor. And it may aid me clan in the future if we have need of his assistance once I become chief.”

  “Ye are the heir? Nae one told me this!”

  “Aye. I am the eldest. Does it matter?”

  Alarm flitted through her as she realized that one day she would be leaving her home...her friends. Heather would be expected to run the Cameron household smoothly as the laird’s wife. Frowning, she glanced about her, attempting to avoid the question.

  “Tis growing late. I should go in.”

  Grasping her chin, he raised her eyes to meet his.

  “Ye did nae answer me question.”

  She flinched.

  “Tis just that running the Cameron castle is a huge responsibility. I hear it is quite large. I fear that I may nae be up ta the task.”

  He relaxed.

  “Twill be nae different than this...just bigger, tis all. Do nae fash yourself. Ye will fair well.” He stroked the side of her jaw with his thumb as he studied her lovely face. She trembled in anticipation as his lips descended toward hers. Heather desired the kiss but she did nae know why. Curiosity perhaps.

  Blane's lips were soft and gentle as he first claimed hers. A shiver of desire rushed through him when she tentatively responded to his touch. Her arms slowly crept up around his neck, deepening the contact. She was lost in the moment. The world about her spun away without her even realizing it.

  He pulled back before things became too intense, eliciting a small whimper of protest from her. He smiled at his dreamy-eyed bride, satisfied that all would be well.

  Chapter Four

  Heather sat next to her new husband at their wedding break fast twirling the unfamiliar ruby ring around her finger. It was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen.

  “Do ye like it?”

  She swiftly hid her hands in her lap embarrassed that he had caught her admiring it. Glancing sideways at him, she bit her lip and nodded.

  “Tis beautiful. Did King David give it ta ye?”

  Affronted, he stiffened.

  “Do ye think me without means?” He paused, forcing his ire back down. “Nay, wife. It was me maither’s ring and her maither’s...and her maither’s afore that. Twas promised ta me wife when me maither died.”

  “Forgive me...I just assumed since the king ordered the wedding, that—“

  “Never assume anything, wife!” He growled. “Especially with me!” Her words had pricked a hidden nerve.

  Fire shot to her eyes as she bit back a retort. How dare he speak to me thus! Did I nae apologize? It was insulting to him though, she could not deny that.

  “I will attempt ta remember that in the future, husband. I meant nae offense. I thank ye for the ring.”

  Mollified, Blane softened. After all, there was no way she would have known about the ring. And he had no desire to argue on his wedding day. He stroked her cheek.

  “I beg ye ta forgive me surliness, lass. Me maither is a sore subject for me. Mayhap I will tell ye of it someday.”

  Heather relaxed her stance, smiling back at him. I suppose it is a learning process. There are things I would prefer nae ta speak of as well. Besides, I do nae wish ta like him anyway. She opened her mouth to respond when a loud voice boomed across the hall.

  “What goes on here?”

  All eyes turned toward the entrance as silence descended on the chamber. Heather cringed. There stood Silas MacDonnell, hands on hips, glaring at the new laird of the Macraes. He was filthy as usual, she noted, as he approached the dais.

  Blane’s nose contracted as the stench grew stronger the nearer he came. He murmured under his breath to his bride.

  “Would this be one of your suitors?”

  “Only in his opinion, my laird.”

  His lip twitched in response to her wit.

  “Then tis time his opinions be changed, eh?”

  Her hand shot to cover her mouth as she giggled. The mirth in his eyes was a pleasure to see as he glanced her way.

  Blane’s attention refocused on the man before him. He looked to be ten years older than himself and he would wager that he had not bathed in all that time. The odor that rolled from his body permeated the room. Sweat oozed from his pores at the exertion of moving his portly body across the chamber. He halted in front of their table and gave Heather a condescending mien.

  “Well, lass? I asked ye a question!”

  His hackles raised at the sound of a growl emanating from the large man sitting next to her.

  “Ye will show respect ta me wife...especially in our own home...or ye will leave!” He spoke quietly as he pierced the man with his stare.

  “And who be ye ta speak ta me thus?”

  He spoke two words...nothing more, as he rose to his full six-foot-five height.

  “Blane Cameron!”

  Silas’ face blanched. He knew of this man. He was not one to be trifled with. His exploits in battle of being a berserker was known far and wide. The MacDonnell laird had no wish to cross swords with this man! Nay...this man can nae be met head-on. I need ta rethink how ta deal with this one.

  Changing his strategy, he gave Blane a curt nod as he sat back down.

  “Wed, did ye say? I thought ye was sweet on Coll, lass. When I heard that he had wed the Macleod daughter I rushed right over ta lay a claim on ye. I did nae ken that ye preferred the king’s ‘Butcher’!”

  She gasped as Blane stiffened. He had hoped that his reputation had not traveled so far. Heather glanced at the stranger she had wed with unease.

  He is a berserker? I hear that they have nae conscience, nae compassion...nae soul. Her hand trembled as she retrieved her wine.

  A crafty look crossed MacDonnell’s face as he continued.

  “Did he nae tell ye, my lady? Ach! Deceit is nae a good way ta begin a union. Then again, mayhap ye prefer a man that be christened in a river of blood.”

  Blane had heard enough! The man was obviously bent on frightening his bride. He turned a steely eye on Silas.

  “At least me husband bathes! Tis more than I may say about ye!”

  Uproarious laughter burst from the clansmen as Blane turned stunned eyes on his bride. He could not believe she had said that!

  Silas narrowed his eyes at the insult as he ground his teeth. She would pay dearly for that impertinence! His hand shot out to her throat but it never touched her. Surprised, she looked up at her attacker to find that her husband held his offending arm behind him and a sghian dubh to his throat. He growled in the man’s ear.

  “Ye will apologize ta me wife for attempting ta frighten her...and then ye will leave. Ye be nae welcome in our home!”

  Silas had nearly soiled himself when Blane grabbed him. Another reason for revenge. He did not care for the sensation of fear.

  Sweat poured out of him as he did what he was told and left. He would deal with this insult in his own time.

  Heather sat dumbfounded. She had never seen a man move so fast. It was true that she should not have spoken the insult...but she could not seem to stop herself. The words were out before she realized she had said them.

  Expecting a severe reprimand for her rudeness, she turned wide eyes on Blane. She imagined horrible punishments and an angry glare but that is not what she found.

  Reflecting back at her were emerald eyes twinkling wi
th mirth and a wide grin exposing even white teeth. A giggle escaped her.

  “Ye are nae angry?”

  “Nay. I was ready ta boot the man out meself! I just wish that I had said it!”

  Nessa and the others had been observing the proceedings silently. Fingal puffed up with pride at his son’s forbearance. He had matured over the years. Slapping him on the shoulder, he snickered.

  “Ye handled that well, Son. I was proud of ye, as well, Heather. Ye did nae fear him! Your stout heart and courage will serve ye fine when dealing with Blane.”

  Nessa sputtered...aghast!

  “She should be beaten for her cheekiness! What kind of man are ye?”

  He stared at Nessa with a stoic expression for several moments.

  “I am a man who does nae punish another for doing what I would have done. A man who cares for his wife’s feelings. What kind of maither are ye?”

  Evening had finally arrived. Blane had been anticipating the consummation all day as he watched his bride surreptitiously. He wondered if she truly had feelings for Coll. She did not appear to be heartbroken...just angry. Regardless, the union must be consummated this eve.

  He toyed with a cup of ale as he awaited the time to retire to their chambers. The matrons had led Heather away nearly an hour before. Surely she is ready by now. He glanced about at the drunken clansmen. They are going ta be disappointed. I will nae allow them the bedding ritual! I wish for nae other man ta gaze on me wife’s nakedness! He growled.

  Fingal had been studying Blane as he fidgeted about on his seat. He leaned in close to be heard above the rowdy clan.

  “Have ye need of the garderobe, Blane?” he teased.

  His ebony hair fell across his brow as he jerked about. Pushing it aside, he shook his head.

  His father sighed as he saw that the young groom had not taken the hint and tried again.

  “I think that, mayhap, ye do. There be a back stair there.”

  Comprehension lit his eyes as he grinned.

  “Now that ye mention it, I am beginning ta feel the urge.” He stood and gave Fingal a brusque nod before leaving the hall.