Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“ I am growing impatient, Laird MacDougal.”
Edmund Fairfax paced back and forth, stopping only to hold his cup out. The servant in the corner of the room quickly stepped forward and refilled the English lord’s cup, then scooted back to his post. As he took a deep draw of his wine, he studied the man seated in the large, ornately carved chair at the head of the hall, the cup managing to hide his frown of distaste. Tall and broad with dark hair and wide, rugged features, MacDougal was his opposite in every way.
Edmund hated dealing with the Scots at all—he found them to be a savage, uncouth people that the world would be better off without. But he was pragmatic enough to know he could not accomplish his goals without help. MacDougal was smart. Cunning. He had a keen sense of survival and an ambition that rivaled Edmund’s own. He was a useful tool, and one Edmund knew he could dispose of if necessary, once he had his bullheaded daughter wedded and bedded anyway. She was the key to conquering the Scots and enslaving, if not disposing of them all.
“Patience, me lord,” MacDougal said. “All will be well.”
Edmund glowered at him. “You keep telling me that but I have seen no reason in all these weeks since you let your daughter slip through your fingers that gives me the slightest bit of confidence that all will, in fact, be well.”
MacDougal’s face darkened and his lips curled back in a sneer—an expression he was able to quickly get under control again. The laird, Edmund knew, was a pragmatic man as well. He knew he needed Edmund’s help more than Edmund needed his. At least, that’s what he had led the Scotsman to believe. The truth was, he needed MacDougal’s assistance as much, if not more, to achieve his ambitions. He needed his daughter and all the lands that came with her.
He also knew that if he pushed MacDougal too far or too hard, the Scotsman could likely raise a resistance that would be a thorn in his side for years. Perhaps decades. The most efficient way to claim the clan’s lands for his own end was to take Ciara as his bride. From there, it was an easy step to subjugating the people of her clan, which would be a major piece of the puzzle. And once he had the MacDougal clan bent to his will, he could march across the rest of Scotland.
The one stumbling block Edmund foresaw were the MacLeod’s out on the Isle of Skye. They did not hold as much land as Laird Robert, but they held key pieces to the rest of Scotland. More than that, they were a fierce clan. Edmund had seen firsthand just how skilled they were in battle. They were prepared, organized, and as well trained as his own army. Beating them on the field of battle would be a major accomplishment and one he was very much looking forward to.
But that would come in time. The first thing he needed to do was find and wed Ciara. And he given how much trouble she had given him to that point, he was eagerly anticipating the opportunity to teach her how to act like a good wife. It would be a real pleasure to take the fire out of the girl. Breaking her spirit was going to be a delight. And he already knew just how he was going to do it. So, for now, with his long-term goals well within reach, Edmund knew he had to play nice with the savages.
“I have scouts scouring all of Scotland,” MacDougal said. “’Tis only a matter of time before they find me wayward daughter.”
“It has been weeks already. Scotland is not that large.”
“’Tis large enough tae hide for some time. Especially if she made her way up tae the Highlands. Plenty of people up there would hide her just tae stick a thumb in me eye.”
“You are giving me even less confidence in your ability to find your daughter than I had before, Laird MacDougal.”
The Scot frowned and his expression tightened. Edmund knew he was getting perilously close to going too far. MacDougal had a notoriously fierce temper—it was a trait that seemed all Scots had—but the laird’s seemed especially vicious. Edmund inclined his head slightly.
“Apologies, Laird MacDougal,” he said. “I am just eager to enact our plans and your daughter is proving tae be more resilient and adaptable than either of us anticipated.”
MacDougal took a long draw from his wine cup, his expression souring even more, but Edmund was sure it wasn’t because of him this time. Instead, his anger seemed more directed at his troublesome daughter, which was exactly what Edmund had intended by bringing her up. MacDougal was smart and cunning, but Edmund had been playing the game much longer and had a far sharper mind than the Scotsman.
“Me daughter’s always been more stubborn than a bleedin’ mule. An independent streak a mile wide, she’s got,” he groused.
“It seems like something you should have burned out of her when she was young.”
He nodded. “Aye. I suppose it is. But I had ten thousand other things on me mind—nae havin’ a suitable heir fer one.”
“Ah, yes. That is a problem,” Edmund said with feigned sympathy. “But I can assure you that once I have wed your daughter, she will produce an heir who will succeed you as laird.”
It seemed to mollify the man, albeit just slightly. His vanity and ego were a weakness, and one Edmund had sought to exploit from the start. Making sure his name—and that of Clan MacDougal—continued to exist long after he was gone was one of the man’s biggest priorities. Of course, titles and expanding those lands were on the list as well. And all of that had been easy enough to promise. Drawing up papers guaranteeing those promises had been even easier.
But the truth was, once MacDougal was dead and gone—perhaps even sooner than he anticipated—destroying those papers and walking back on all the promises would be simpler still. After all, once he had wed Ciara and consummated their marriage by taking her maidenhead, what was hers became his. He would be able to do what he wanted without running afoul of any laws. It would be a relatively bloodless coup that furthered his agenda.
Edmund had been formulating this plan for a long time. But he’d needed to find a willing dupe to put it all into action. Laird Robert MacDougal, a man whose grasp far exceeded his reach, had proven to be the perfect useful idiot to make it all happen. Edmund might not ever be able to be the King of England, but he could certainly carve out his own kingdom to rule over. It simply required determination and an iron will. And he had those things in spades.
MacDougal took another drink and pursed his lips. “I dae feel I must apologize tae ye, me lord. I didnae anticipate me daughter bein’ so… difficult. I underestimated her and that is me fault. I am sorry fer that, but I promise tae make it right.”
“I have no doubt that you will, Laird MacDougal. But I should tell you now that I do not foresee your daughter’s spirit weakening once we are wed,” Edmund said. “I will need to make her see the error of her ways and correct her misbehavior.”
The large Scotsman shrugged. “Once ye’re wed, ye’re free tae dae with her as ye please.”
Edmund inclined his head. “I am very pleased to hear you say that.”
“’Tis the way of the world,” he replied. “I just want tae make sure, before ye’re wed, that our agreement is ironclad. That we have papers attesting tae all we agreed tae.”
“The papers have already been drawn up, rest assured. You will have a garrison here at your command to enforce your will. You may also use them to expand your territory,” he said. “And as per our agreement, once your daughter and I sire an heir, what’s yours will become his, once he is of age and you are no longer part of this world. You will hold all your lands and titles until your passing, which will then pass on to my heir. Is this satisfactory?”
“Save fer one item,” he said.
“And what is that?”
“Me daughter’s dowry.”
The man was greedier than a hog at a full trough. Edmund bit back the scathing reply that sat upon his tongue, silently reminding himself that MacDougal was a useful idiot and nothing more… and that his usefulness would end sooner rather than later.
“Of course,” Edmund said patiently. “One thousand gold crowns, as agreed upon. I trust that in addition to the garrison and the titles that will be conferred upon you once the marriage has been consummated will suffice?”
MacDougal’s eyes glittered and he licked his lips. “Actually, I wanted tae speak tae ye about that. I was hopin’ we could negotiate a bit more.”
Edmund ground his teeth so hard, he could have shattered stone. Of course, the man wanted to renegotiate their already agreed upon dowry. Edmund stood corrected. Not even hogs at a filled trough were as greedy as this man. Especially after he had let the girl escape the castle and they were now stuck in this very unpleasant situation because of it. He swallowed the insults he wanted to hurl, reminding himself yet again that he was playing the long game.
“And what is it you believe to be a fair bride price, Laird MacDougal?”
“I was thinking two thousand gold crowns sounded about right,” he replied smoothly. “She is me only daughter, after all.”
It took all of Edmund’s will to keep his dagger in it sheath instead of plunging it into the Scotsman’s throat. He balled his hands into fists at his sides and tried to put a pleasant smile on his face instead. He managed it, but only because he had an iron will.
“That is fair, Laird MacDougal. I will agree to the revised bride price,” he said. “But this will be the end of negotiations.”
“’Tis acceptable tae me.”
“Wonderful,” Edmund said. “But none of this will matter if we cannot find your daughter.”
“We’ll find her, me lord?—”
Before he finished his statement though, the doors to the hall banged open and a harried, dirty, and disheveled looking man burst in. He rushed to the foot of the dais where MacDougal stood and fell to his knees, lowering his head in supplication. His breath was ragged, and he looked as if he’d been running for days. Edmund stepped forward, curious.
“What is the meaning of this, Gavan?” MacDougal growled angrily. “Dae ye nae see I’m in consultation with Lord Fairfax?”
“Me laird, I’m sorry for burstin’ in like this. I ken ‘tis improper, but I bring news,” he said.
MacDougal glanced at Edmund, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. Edmund knew what was coming and felt a ball of excited energy forming in his belly.
“Well? Speak, Gavan,” MacDougal ordered. “What is this news?”
“Ciara. She’s been found, me laird.”
“And? Where is she?”
“She’s on the Isle of Skye under the protection of the MacLeods.”
A slow, feral smile touched Edmund’s lips. It wasn’t ideal. The MacLeods were meant to be dealt with last, as the last rung on the ladder he’d been building. But it seemed that fate had other ideas. He was going to have to do it at some point anyway, so he would get them out of the way first. It hadn’t been his plan, but so be it.
“That is excellent news, Laird MacDougal,” Edmund said.
“What now, me lord?”
“By taking your daughter under their protection, the MacLeods have declared war,” Edmund said. “So, now, we march on Dunvegan to take back what is rightfully ours.”