Michele Sinclair - [McTiernays 05] Read online

  At last, Meriel stopped speaking and Hamish began to talk, no doubt trying to be kind and as charming as possible as he turned her down. But after he had spoken just a few words, Meriel started to talk again, this time more animatedly. Obviously, she had not mentioned the idea yet. Craig was beginning to wonder if she would, when he finally saw Hamish’s eyes widen before looking down at his clothes.

  Any moment now, Craig hummed to himself quietly. Should he go in at the first sign of horror, or wait until Hamish fully unleashed his disgust at the idea? Craig was still wrestling with whether he should help persuade his friend to accept Meriel’s offer when she glanced over her shoulder and winked at him before returning her attention back to Hamish.

  Craig was stunned. The small part of his brain still functioning was quite relieved that he was leaning on the stable wall, for otherwise he most likely would have fallen. Meriel had winked at him. What the hell did that mean? Refusing to speculate, Craig shoved himself upright and marched right over to where she and Hamish were talking.

  “Dia dhuit.”

  Hamish stopped in midsentence and grinned, unruffled by the interruption. “Hello to you.”

  With pursed lips, Craig turned to Meriel, who was beaming with delight. “You seem pretty excited about something,” he grumbled.

  Meriel nodded, but it was Hamish who responded to the implied question. “Seems our mutual friend here thinks I need some new clothes and that she should be the person to make them for me. I must admit to being surprised by the idea.”

  Craig scratched his chin in an effort to hide his thoughts. Perhaps Meriel needed his help after all. “You could use them, my friend,” he said, pointing at the tattered end of one of Hamish’s sleeves. “What’s wrong? Scared of a woman with a needle?”

  Hamish, with a significant lifting of his right brow, gave Craig a puzzled look and said, “Hardly. We were discussing when she could start.”

  A momentary flare of annoyance shot through Craig. No man in his right mind would agree to such a request. Hamish was many things, but he was not foolish enough to subjugate himself to a male’s version of purgatory unless there was a greater purpose behind his acceptance. Only one thing made sense. Hamish had somehow been persuaded to be part of Meriel’s scheme.

  “You are a better man than I,” Craig commented coolly. “I couldn’t imagine standing there as women twittered around me, acting as if I was their new toy.”

  “First of all,” Meriel snapped, “there will be no women; just me. And I dare you to search your memory and find a single time I have ever twittered.”

  Hamish let go a deep belly laugh that caught the attention of those walking close by. “I’d advise you to beg forgiveness now, Craig. One thing I have learned is that Meriel is one incredibly feisty lady when riled.”

  Meriel? Feisty? Craig repeated to himself. Hamish was right, but Craig had not thought his friend had spent enough time with Meriel to recognize that quality in her. Worse, it was a particular characteristic that Hamish happened to appreciate in women. “Believe me, I am fully aware of the more spirited side of Meriel’s personality,” Craig muttered, further annoyed that his tone had betrayed his emotional state. In an effort to change the subject and put Hamish on the defensive, Craig added, “I am just very surprised you so quickly agreed to participate in something so unpleasant.”

  Meriel shifted her stance so that her glower could be seen only by Craig. What are you trying to do? Convince Hamish to refuse? This is your idea, she mouthed through silent lips before returning to her previous position.

  “Ahh, but that is because you were never trying to impress a lady who held very high standards,” Hamish countered.

  “You mean Wyenda? Because unless your new clothes come with a title, she is not going to consider you, my friend. It’s a waste of time,” Craig declared before he could stop himself.

  This time Meriel held nothing back in her threatening glare. Unwilling to take a chance that Craig might actually convince Hamish against her making him some new clothes, she grabbed Hamish’s arm and started to lead him away. “We could begin tomorrow afternoon, if you can make yourself available.”

  Hamish shrugged. “Aye, that would be agreeable. And just where is all this fun going to take place?”

  “Since we want to keep this a surprise from Wyenda, we best meet in secret. How about . . . the North Tower?”

  Craig made a choking sound and stomped up to join them once again. “In your bedchamber?” he barked in a low, menacing tone. “I think not!”

  “I am not a fool, Craig!” Meriel hissed, coming to a stop. “I was thinking of Conan’s workroom. He’s gone, and no one would think to look there for either of us.”

  Silence followed as Craig gaped at her in shock. Meriel was staring back, waiting for him to get truly riled and shout out another objection. Instead, Craig snapped his jaw shut. His lips stretched into a thin smile. Oh, the woman was fiendishly clever, but not enough to outwit him. Meriel had known he could still hear their conversation and had anticipated his reaction. If she thought to trick him and then claim that his anger was the display of a jealous lover, she was going to be disappointed. He refused to be manipulated by anyone—but especially her.

  “As long as you are comfortable with that decision,” Craig finally taunted under his breath.

  “Oh, I am,” Meriel replied through gritted teeth, anger snapping in her green eyes. Then she turned back to Hamish and pulled him aside to discuss what garments he needed the most.

  This time Craig did not follow. Mostly because he suspected she wanted him to, but the woman was playing a game that she was going to lose. But the fact that Hamish had appeared so damned earnest about needing and wanting a new outfit rankled. Craig knew it was ridiculous. No doubt Hamish was under strict orders to willingly participate in any idea put forward. Still, the man did not need to look so happy at the prospect of being tortured.

  Then again, after a few hours of being plagued by a needle, there was no way Hamish was going to retain his charming attitude. Not more than an hour would pass before he would emphatically refuse to continue being a pawn in her games. Craig almost felt sorry for Meriel, for even if by some small chance he was wrong about her inventing this whole nonsense about loving Hamish, she was going to see a side of his friend that would undoubtedly make her rethink things altogether.

  Aye. By tomorrow night during their evening chat, Meriel would be telling a sad story about her misguided, broken heart. Whether it be true or the result of a failed plan, Craig intended to be ready to pick up the pieces.

  For when it came to Meriel, they were his pieces to pick up. And no one else’s.

  Brenna lay stomach down on the bed with her chin propped in her hands. She considered herself a very mature eight-year-old, but she did not think she would ever understand grown-ups’ affinity for talking about dull stuff. Rolling over on her back, she asked in a weary voice, “Are you almost done?”

  “Almost,” came Meriel’s reply, muffled due to the number of pins she had between her lips.

  “I hate the Warden’s Tower. It’s so boring and musty and—” Brenna stopped midsentence as the staircase began to howl. “And there are ghosts!”

  Meriel adjusted the length of the shirt’s hem and twirled her finger to signal Hamish to turn a little so that she could continue pinning. “You and I both know that sound is just the wind coming in whenever someone opens the door.”

  Brenna searched for another argument but could not find one. “Why do I have to be here?” she wailed.

  Meriel weaved the last pin into place. “You know why,” she finally answered, her mouth free of hardware. “Maegan was unavailable.”

  Brenna missed her friend. Maegan was more than twice her age, but she was still more fun than any of the other adults. It was not fair that Maegan’s grandmother got sick and required her help. She needed Maegan too, especially now that Meriel had practically kidnapped her and forced her to be a chaperone. She was a kid! Sh
e did not even know how to be a chaperone, let alone why having one was so important. “No one cares about Hamish getting new clothes,” Brenna groaned, sitting up to look out the window.

  Meriel’s mouth was full of pins once again, preventing her from arguing the point or pointing out that Brenna had been there less than half an hour. Secretly, Meriel also preferred the North Tower. The Warden’s Tower’s bedchambers were large, well lit and in many ways comfortable, but the tower itself was infused with a lingering smell that proved many an unbathed soldier slept in it at night. But when Hamish had come over, she could see his reluctance about meeting alone in her room. Afraid he might change his mind, she had offered to meet in the Warden’s Tower instead. But after being here for an hour, she suspected Hamish would be more willing to convene in her bedchambers next time.

  Brenna sighed again and Meriel was about to consider the idea of letting the child go, with the promise to keep this meeting a secret, when she jumped off the bed with an excited scream. Then, without asking for permission for fear it would not be granted, Brenna ran out of the room before Meriel could empty her mouth of pins and object to Brenna’s speedy exit.

  “What was that about?” Meriel gasped, spitting the pins into her palm.

  Hamish gestured with his chin toward the window and the courtyard below. Meriel stood up to look for herself. Brenna’s brother, Braeden, who usually tried to avoid the castle and his mother’s watchful eye, was in the courtyard playing swords with his best friend, Gideon. The wooden sticks banged together and a second later a slight girl with pale blond curly hair burst onto the scene with her hands on her hips. Both boys looked indignant, but a couple of seconds later all three children began to chase each other around the enclosure.

  “Now what are we supposed to do?” Meriel sighed.

  Hamish shrugged. “Nothing. The door is open, and even if the servants coming in and out of the storage area downstairs knew where we were, they wouldn’t venture up here. Brenna was right. No one cares about me getting a new kilt.”

  “Hopefully one person does,” Meriel murmured as she stood, continuing to look out the window. “I was actually surprised Craig did not conjure up a more painful way for us to spend time together. Not only do you need new clothes, but now we have a reason to meet several times.”

  Hamish swallowed. Meriel had always been pretty, even that famous night last year when Brenna had decided to style her hair. The result had been horrifying, and yet anyone could have seen that she and her sister were attractive women. But right now, with the light shining behind her making her smooth, milky skin glow, Meriel’s gentle beauty had transformed into something unexpectedly breathtaking. “Aye, certainly simplified your plan,” he finally managed to say, trying to shift his thoughts to Wyenda and his supposed purpose for agreeing to Meriel’s schemes. “Think Wyenda will find me irresistible when you get done?”

  Unaware of Hamish’s appreciative thoughts, Meriel glanced back so that he could see the roll of her eyes. “Wasn’t it you who told me that you are already irresistible?”

  “I think I might have lost my ability to charm women,” he replied, trying to sound woeful. “Alas, you have not fallen under my spell despite my earnest efforts.”

  “You truly are incorrigible,” Meriel said as she swatted his arm and removed the last of the loosely pinned pieces of material from his frame. She really hated the idea that she was helping Hamish win Wyenda’s heart. In reality, Meriel despised the woman. And though she knew it was unlikely Hamish would succeed where all other men had failed, there was still a chance he could. Meriel had been telling Craig the truth when she had described Hamish as a man worth pursuing. Handsome, amiable, and entertaining, it would not be beyond the realm of possibility for anyone, including Wyenda, to fall for him.

  A sharp noise caught their attention. Realizing the risk they ran if anyone overheard them talking, Meriel looked at Hamish and mouthed, “Can anyone hear us?”

  Hamish broke into a wide grin. “All the men are out training, and only very few guards are manning the battlements this time of day. I have been watching, and with the exception of the baker, whom you just heard drop a box onto the ground, no one besides Brenna has entered or exited the tower.”

  “I know you said that Craig would be gone for the afternoon, but . . .” Meriel paused, narrowing her eyes. “Well, I know this castle is littered with secret passages, including one that leads directly from the village into the North Tower. And I wouldn’t put it past a certain someone to use it,” she whispered, unconvinced that Craig was not lurking nearby. It did not matter that he was far more likely to barge in on them than sneak around and eavesdrop; the fact that she had seen no sign of him at all was disconcerting.

  Hamish’s dark green eyes locked on to Meriel. “You know about the passageways?”

  Meriel frowned and picked up the pinned tartan material she had cut for Hamish’s kilt and began folding it. “Of course I do.”

  Hamish pulled his chin back and gave her a jealous smirk. “Well, then you are one of the privileged few.”

  “You don’t know where they are?”

  “Ha! Like any McTiernay is going to hand over an advantage like that to anyone—even a friend. And as far as Craig goes, I made sure he would be nowhere near here for the whole day. He and Seamus are visiting some of the more distant farms and will not be back until dinner—if then,” Hamish relayed proudly.

  Relief filled Meriel and she waved her hand for him to sit down and relax. “We’re done. You don’t need to stand anymore. I have everything I need.”

  Hamish sauntered over to the chair and plopped down in it. “Really? That didn’t take long.”

  Meriel chuckled. “I only needed the basic measurements. It isn’t like a leine and kilt are difficult to make.”

  The pounding sound of a horse’s hooves coming through the gatehouse caused them to look at each other, eyes wide. Hamish glanced outside and said, “Good thing you are done. Looks like our temporary chieftain has figured out a way to abandon Seamus and return early.”

  Meriel bit her tongue. She knew she had been right to believe Craig would find a way to be around. Meriel peeked down at the courtyard just in time to see Craig toss his reins to the stable master and jump down off his horse. “He doesn’t look happy.”

  Hamish’s face broke into a large smile. “At least not happy to see Brenna down there playing with the boys,” he said, watching Craig approach the children, his face clearly displeased as he said something to Brenna.

  Concern for the little girl flashed through Meriel but died quickly when the girl’s back went rigid and her hands flew to her hips. Brenna was obviously not taking any admonishment from her uncle lightly. “I want to meet the man that little girl marries someday.”

  Hamish rolled his eyes. “Not me. He’ll either be spineless, choosing to surrender whenever Brenna makes a demand, or a man to be feared.”

  Alarm was growing in Meriel. “But with Craig’s untimely arrival, how are we going to make him believe that we were together in my bedchamber and not here, since Conan’s study was mysteriously bolted?”

  Hamish chuckled, grabbing his sword and sticking it through his belt. “I love it when I get the chance to outmaneuver a McTiernay. Leave it to me. I may not know how to sneak inside the castle from the village, but I am expert on traversing these curtain walls after spending endless hours of guard duty on them. I can get from any tower to another without being seen.”

  Meriel grinned. With Brenna and her penchant for relaying gossip, there was a slim chance of outwitting Craig today, but Hamish obviously relished the idea. Meriel gathered her things and followed him out the door and up the staircase. Bending below the openings in the battlements, she crept behind Hamish until they came to the North Tower. For a moment, she thought their plan was doomed. For there, perched and surveying the lands, was a guard. Hamish signaled for her to wait until he gave her a sign. He next strode onto the tower and waved hello to the guard as he yanke
d open the tower door. Then, as if he had changed his mind, he walked over to the younger man and pointed somewhere in the distance, allowing Meriel a chance to slip by unnoticed and down into the tower stairwell. Seconds later, Hamish met her on the third floor outside her bedchamber.

  Meriel was beaming with delight. “Thanks, Hamish. For everything. For agreeing to my plan, being agreeable about getting new clothes . . . for all of it.”

  Hamish gathered one her hands in his. “My lady, there really is no need to thank me. I said I would be glad to help, and I am. Besides, I actually rather enjoyed myself today. It certainly wasn’t nearly as tiresome and painful as Craig made it sound.”

  “That man has no idea what he is talking about. I honestly wonder how he came by the clothes he is wearing.”

  “So what is the next step in this grand idea of yours? Need to see me tomorrow?”

  Meriel bit her bottom lip. “Craig thinks you are suffering. If you consent to coming back too soon, it might counter that belief.”

  “What if we say that you want to see me again tomorrow, but I refused because I was . . . oh, too busy. The reason why I am unavailable, Craig can just assume.”

  Meriel clasped her hands in delight. “Perfect!”

  “You know I should feel a little guilty helping you, but in all honesty, I’m enjoying myself. Craig likes to think of himself as the most amenable of his brothers, when in truth he is just as stubborn in his ways as any one of them. So consider me your humble accomplice. So, farewell, until next time.” Hamish gave her a flamboyant bow and then disappeared down the spiral staircase.

  Removing the smile on his face, Hamish pushed open the tower door, unsurprised to find Craig on the other side.

  Craig stepped forward. “So, how did things go?”

  Hamish drew his lips into a grimace and said, “Wasn’t expecting this to last for days.”