Page 14 of The Winter Laird
“How can you marry a lass that doesn’t exist?” Aidan asked. “We’ve all heard the tales of the powerful O’Rourke woman who can move time, but O’Rourke only has sons.”
“I met with Kiernan a few weeks after I took control of our clan, as I needed a strong ally and the O’Rourkes were willing to talk. No one would give us alliance, Aidan. Even with the backing of our clan leaders, other clans saw us as weak, to allow a twelve-year-old to take control.”
“You were a brilliant strategist then, as you are now,” Aidan said fiercely. “Any who doubt are fools.”
Nioclas nodded in agreement. “Aye, and your loyalty—like that of the rest of our clansmen—was well appreciated. But without another clan, we were susceptible to attack. I realized this, as did the leaders. For his alliance, Kiernan’s price was high. Perhaps too high. He claimed he had a seven-year-old daughter, who was sent to live with guardians on the mainland when she was but an infant. He secured my hand for her, and offered a marriage to her when she came of age.”
“Came of age?” Aidan repeated incredulously. He did the numbers in his head quickly. “She would be nine-and-twenty now, Nick! What age did Kiernan say she must be when she was to marry you?”
Nioclas frowned. “That was the hole in my agreement. We never specified, and Daniel, our clan elder, realized it the day after we agreed to the match. Kiernan said he would present her when he felt she was ready. And, with my upcoming nuptials, I know not what they plan, but with each missive O’Rourke sends me, the more desperate he seems. The O’Rourkes lost their chance by not presenting their daughter, and I will ally with the Kildares now. I cannot wait any longer, and to break the marriage with the Kildares will invite war.”
“The Kildares bring nothing to our clan,” Aidan hesitated to point out. “I see no value in this marriage, Nick.”
“The Kildares aren’t the most loyal of men, but having an ally in a part of the country where we haven’t any is a boon I cannot overlook,” Nioclas divulged.
“We’re a large clan, too.”
“Aye. But very few lairds will attack us if our numbers are doubled. All I want is peace,” Nioclas reiterated. “A show of force is, sometimes, more effective than the force itself.”
“What if the O’Rourke lass really is here?”
“Then it would be a miracle indeed, as there’s been neither sight nor sound of her since the supposed day of her birth,” Nioclas replied dryly. “Bring the messenger so I can eat my supper in peace.” Nioclas didn’t interact with the O’Rourkes much. They were far from him, and although they were a strong clan, they were a peaceful one.
Nioclas wanted to keep it that way, even if Kiernan sent him annual missives to remind him of a promise made when he was a foolish lad of ten-and-two.
It grated on his nerves that with each reminder sent, the unspoken threat of war loomed if he dared marry another. Yet the O’Rourkes continued to refuse his request to see her. He had but little choice now.
“Laird MacWilliam, I bring a message from Laird O’Rourke,” the messenger said, shifting from foot to foot. At Nioclas’s nod, he continued. “The laird is on his way here and should arrive before nightfall. He brings news of his daughter, Lady Brianagh.” At MacWilliam’s continued, ominous silence, the messenger cleared his throat again. “I, ah, am also to inform you that he travels not alone and brings with him three men.”
“They bring news? They don’t even have her? What are they going to do, lock you in a tower until this mythical daughter appears?” Aidan asked incredulously. He guffawed. “I don’t envy you, brother.”
“Is there aught else?” Nioclas asked tersely.
The messenger cast his eyes heavenward, as if sending up a prayer, and squeaked, “Um, aye.” Clearing his throat, he said, “Lady Brianagh shall be presented for the wedding held here tomorrow.”
“Oh, well, if that’s all,” Nioclas replied, his patience snapping, “then I best get my rest tonight. Be off to the kitchens with you to find your repast.” The messenger’s head snapped up in surprise and he scurried off to the kitchens in haste.
“Before nightfall?” Aidan grinned, scratching his chin with his dirk. “I suspect they’ll be riding up to our gates within the hour.”
“To no end,” Nioclas replied sourly, stalking across the great room toward the staircase. He threw a look over his shoulder. “When they arrive, you may send only Kiernan to my solar. The rest can go to hell.”
Aidan watched his brother stomp up the solid stone steps, then turned and winked at the maid hovering nearby. She blushed to the tips of her toes, bobbed a curtsy, and asked what he needed.
“Ensure a strong dinner is sent to the laird’s solar tonight. Make it for six.”
Chapter 4
If Nioclas thought he could kill his brother without overly mourning his loss, Aidan would most certainly be dead.
Said brother ushered the menacing-looking travelers into the laird’s solar, maids following them with stools and food. The smell of roasted beef with bread assaulted the senses. If Nioclas weren’t so angry that his brother allowed the men up, he’d be angry about the elaborate food now being placed in front of them.
What a waste.
“Leave us,” Nioclas barked to the servants, who scurried out of the room. He glared at Aidan, but said in a measured tone, “Enjoy that meal, O’Rourke, for once it’s done, you’ll be leaving my castle.”
Kiernan O’Rourke ignored him, digging into his meal with a single-mindedness mirrored by the other travelers in his party.
Nioclas took stock as they ate. He did not recognize the travelers Kiernan brought. Two he could guess solely by the stories he knew of the clan. The largest one, with long, midnight-black hair and ice-blue eyes, must be the eldest O’Rourke offspring, Brody. Nioclas approved of him by sight—he was brawny and his eyes held a sharp intelligence. According to Kiernan, the man looked just like his mother, Kathryne. Brody was respected in battle—he was merciful but lethal—and he put his clan above himself. Nioclas could respect a man with those values.
