Chapter 47 #2
“Padraig, Lady Cairren, we are most grateful for yer return,” Martin welcomed them. He’d been the quietest of the council members who defended her. Cairren surmised that he was not a talkative man by nature, so it surprised her when he spoke first. She dipped her head in greeting.
“Ye say ye’re grateful, but I dinna ken that everyone shares yer sentiments,” Padraig called out.
Many heads jerked back in surprise to hear his brogue.
“Ma wife likes it,” was all the explanation he offered before continuing.
“The council may lead the clan now, and I may become laird, but the clan will decide tonight whether ye accept Lady Cairren. Each member of the clan over the age of three-and-ten will swear their fealty to Lady Cairren. I will decide whether we stay by how many make that oath and whether I believe yer sincerity. We will leave in the morn if I am nae satisfied.”
Cairren kept her chin up and her back straight, giving no sign that Padraig’s order came as a surprise.
Her eyes swept the crowd to see how they received Padraig’s mandate.
The number of nodding heads disconcerted her after her time with the clan.
She noticed one warrior sneering at her, and Padraig must have, too.
He nudged his chin in the man’s direction, and Henry and Peter dragged him away.
From her perch upon her horse, she watched as Peter held the man, and Henry plowed his fist into the man’s face and abdomen.
“I warned ye once before, I will treat any slight or disrespect to Lady Cairren as harm done to me.” Padraig voice was loud and firm. “Whether I become yer laird or nae, I will see ye punished. If I am laird, ye will go before the lash. If the harm is too great, ma wife and I leave.”
Cairren didn’t agree with the use of corporal punishment for this, but she understood Padraig’s need to assert himself, especially if he would soon lead the clan.
And she didn’t doubt his retribution would be swift if how he’d beaten his brother indicated his protectiveness.
She hoped she could convince him of a lesser punishment as she suspected, inevitably, someone would run afoul of her.
“Padraig?” A man Cairren didn’t recognize stepped forward.
He appeared to be a farmer or villager. “Padraig, might ye banish the offender rather than ye leave? I dinna want to believe Lady Cairren will come to harm now that we arenae believing Lady Mary and Father Mitchell, and we dinna fear yer father or brother. I dinna like saying that it might. But if it were, that doesnae mean we all want Lady Cairren mistreated. We dinna all want to be punished.”
Padraig considered the man’s comments and nodded.
“That would be something which ma wife and I would decide together. If I become laird, then Lady Cairren becomes the lady of our clan. She will receive the honor and courtesy that goes with that position.” Padraig turned to Cairren and held out his hand.
When she placed it in his, he ran his thumb over the back of hers.
“Before we step foot on Munro soil and before I escort ma wife into our home, I owe her an apology. It wasnae just ma family and our guest who are to blame for leading the clan to believe mistreating ma wife was acceptable. I shoulder that guilt, too. I didna treat Lady Cairren with the honor and care she deserved both as ma wife and as a person. Laird Kennedy told me ‘where ye lead, they follow.’ I didna appreciate his guidance, but I understand now. Lady Cairren, I am truly sorry for the pain I caused ye, for the blind eye I turned to others hurting ye, and for nae being the husband ye deserved. I love ye, Ren.”
Cairren swore to herself when she arrived the first time that she would never let the Munros see her cry; she would never show weakness.
But now happy tears streamed down her cheeks, even as she turned a brilliant smile toward Padraig.
She cupped his face with her hands, grateful their horses stood still, and spoke for all to hear.
“I love you too, Padraig.” Then she offered him a kiss that left no one in doubt of the love and tenderness they shared.
Their homecoming had been a tumultuous day.
They entered the keep to find Micheil intoxicated and mumbling to an invisible Duncan.
As soon as he saw Cairren, he’d pointed his finger and screamed, “the Devil’s bitch,” before clutching his chest. He collapsed before them, but he still breathed.
Cairren, much to her distaste but, was driven by conscience to examine him.
The best she could diagnose was an apoplexy.
She warned that he might recover, but it was just as likely that he wouldn’t.
He hadn’t opened his eyes in hours, and the clan took it as a message from God that He wanted Padraig to serve as their new laird.
The clan council disappeared into the laird’s solar, and both Padraig and Cairren expected to wait hours before hearing their decision.
The men were in and out in less than five minutes.
They’d elected Padraig as their laird and held a special election to officially declare Cairren as Lady Munro.
As their laird, Padraig delivered the news that King Robert wasn’t satisfied with his mother returning to Clan Rose.
Instead, she was banished to Murkle Priory, far north in Sinclair territory.
Padraig delivered the directive to his mother while Cairren went to their chamber abovestairs to bathe.
Even a floor above the fray and with the door closed, Cairren could hear Mary’s vitriol as she raged against Cairren, using curses in Gaelic that Cairren didn’t understand.
From the way Padraig’s hair stood on end once she finally saw him, Cairren knew either Mary’s tirade infuriated him, or he’d had to restrain his mother as they moved to the woman’s chamber.
Cairren feared it was both when several clan members apologized on Mary’s behalf for what they all heard.
Before the meal began, Cairren slipped away from Padraig and spoke to her friends. It was odd, but comforting, to realize she had friends among the Munros. She asked the question she knew Padraig wanted answered as much as she did.
“What’s become of Myrna?” Cairren feared her rival would appear on their doorstep by morning.
“That’s quite a tale. She rode into the bailey easy as ye please,” Meg began.
“She said she’d come to see Padraig. To resolve their disagreement.
We kenned she wasnae telling the truth, but we thought she’d come to torment ye, ma lady.
When she learned of Duncan’s death, she fell into the screaming ab-dabs.
It was like naught ye’ve ever seen before, ma lady.
Nay one could understand what she was going on aboot. Ranting like a banshee.”
“Aye, Lady Mary tried to get her under control. Do ye ken what Lady Mary did?” Catriona’s eyes widened, but she grinned. “Slapped her.”