The Chieftain's Curse by Frances Housden

Author:Frances Housden [Housden, Frances]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-02-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Seated at the high table, Euan listened to Colin Ruthven with only half an ear, far too conscious of Morag’s presence at his left hand. “I feel black affronted,” Colin was saying, “that a lad of mine would run away like one of yon sheep they scattered all over the brae. I heard one of the daft woolly beasts nearly landed in the water.”

Morag leaned forward her elbow atop the board, so close Euan could feel its warmth. “Laird Ruthven, excuse the interruption, but Jamie and Iseabal only did as they were told. I shouted at the top of my lungs for them to run. What would you think of a warrior who didn’t obey orders?”

“But, Jamie isn’t a warrior, he’s my son.”

“Ach well that’s all right then,” she said, her voice filled with empathy, and Euan realised her diplomacy would have been a great asset in a wife. Only look at Malcolm Canmore and Queen Margaret.

But Morag had more to add, “The lad wasn’t hurt, and I’m sure the McArthur is relieved that the son and daughter of a guest were returned safe to their father’s bosom,” she coaxed, as though certain Ruthven would hate to blame Euan for his children’s preservation. “At least, they are safe from the beasts that attacked them.”

“Aye, there is something in what you say, mistress, for I could not feel otherwise had it happened at Dunstrae.”

Euan made no comment, leaving Morag to soothe the insult Colin had felt at seeing his son flee. Yet he knew her thoughts were of him, of how he felt without sons to disappoint or otherwise. He felt her touch on his hand, not obvious, just the brush of her little finger across the fine hairs on its back. The heat it stirred inside him fled straight to his loins.

Her finger continued its foray as she said, “I think we can all be thankful you still have bairns to be annoyed with for falling back to the castle as they were told. Some folk are not so lucky.”

Ruthven’s gaze flicked toward Euan who watched his expression sober. After all, one of Euan’s stillborn sons had been his grandchild. “It’s God’s mercy that I’ll have them both to take home with me.” Then Colin’s glance spun past them, farther, to where Iseabal sat with Graeme.

“You’ll not hear a word of disagreement from me,” Morag assured him, “Yon men were beasts, pure and simple, and gave no quarter to McArthur’s man. Aye, he faced them, one against four, as was his duty. As the only other adult, I would have forever regretted not trying to help him.”

The greater regret was Euan’s. That this woman by his side should be barren was a sin. He could only imagine what sons they might have produced. What had started as a convenience was now tinged with genuine sorrow that the seed he expelled inside her would always come to naught. Then he remembered what had happened to the wives he’d got with child.

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