Michele Sinclair - [McTiernays 05] Read online

  Refocusing on tonight’s true goals, Meriel returned her attention to Wyenda and said with a wicked smile, “Then I am relieved, for I doubt your skills with a needle will enable you to appreciate, let alone critique, my expertise.”

  The whole table went quiet. Every single person dropped all pretense of being engaged in other conversations and turned to listen to how Wyenda was going to respond.

  No one cared that Wyenda’s mother was supposed to be from an important clan and that she had once visited with Elizabeth de Burgh, the queen consort of King Robert. Her father was a McTiernay farmer, which made her no better than anyone present. Most of those around the table had glimpsed Wyenda walking around the village and were aware of her beauty, and those who had just met Wyenda that night would freely admit that the tales concerning her comely appearance were not exaggerated. But it was the other stories about her that were of most interest, for while everyone knew of Wyenda, few had actually met her. They knew her only through rumors of how she believed herself to be above laborious chores, uncaring that her grandmother shouldered all the work in their home.

  As a result, most of the dinner party had been stealthily eavesdropping on anything she had to say. And while each was interested in knowing how Wyenda was going to respond to Meriel’s retort, they also knew that Lady McTiernay was more than capable of controlling Wyenda and her tongue. So they anticipated Laurel would intervene and address the offensive woman before anything more could be said. But instead, Laurel sat in silence, openly listening with wide eyes filled with intrigue.

  Wyenda looked around the table at all the people studying her. Her expression grew even harder. She refused to be intimidated by them or by Meriel. “I thankfully have no experience as a seamstress,” she said, swinging her focus back to the head of the table. “People of quality, like myself, are removed from doing such menial work. But I do have one area of expertise I would think you would covet—the ability to know how to look and be desirable.”

  Meriel swallowed. Her intuition suddenly flared to life, screaming that she was in serious danger. “I covet nothing of yours.”

  “Really? I doubt it. For I, without any effort, gained the attention of two men who only seem to desire you as a friend. I could not imagine going through life unable to inspire a man’s passion, even when you try—like you obviously did with your little dress tonight.”

  An audible gasp came from Laurel’s best friend, Aileen, who had remained silent after Laurel gave her a clear gesture to say nothing.

  Meriel was vaguely aware of what was going on around her. She knew that Wyenda’s venom would be painful only if her verbal strikes penetrated, and Meriel had thought herself invulnerable to anything the woman could fling at her. But she had not anticipated that Wyenda would detect and then expose her deepest, most secret fear.

  Since her youth, Meriel had lured many a man to her side to dally with and share a kiss or two, but no one had ever really tried seriously to pursue her. She had assumed it was because she had made it known that any such effort would be pointless, but deep down Meriel had always wondered if that was the real reason. Could she inspire passion? Would any man ever find her truly desirable? Based on Craig’s reaction to their kiss, the answer could possibly be no.

  Wyenda’s vile words hung in the air, causing Hamish to be immobile and mute for several seconds. He understood that Wyenda had felt attacked and lashed out instinctively to defend herself. She had come to dinner under false pretenses and was angry at being lied to. She did not understand that Meriel had thought only to help him, but it did not matter. Wyenda had gone too far.

  Normally, Hamish found it challenging to discern what Meriel was feeling about any subject, but the pain etched into her face after Wyenda launched her last attack was one he would never forget. Meriel actually believed the nonsense Wyenda had spurted. He wanted to go over and assure Meriel otherwise, that she only had to give a man one of her warm smiles to inspire passion—but one glance at Craig held him back.

  His usually bright blue eyes smoldered with murderous anger, creating an aura of danger that radiated from him. With clenched fists and his neck turning crimson, Craig looked as if he was ready to do battle. He glared at Wyenda, but it was to Hamish he spoke. “Get her out of here.”

  Craig said the words slowly and deliberately, but his voice was laced with dark warning. Hamish did not want to give the appearance that he supported anything Wyenda had just said; the woman needed to leave and Craig fully expected him to make it happen.

  Hamish rose to his feet and touched Wyenda’s shoulder. “My dear, it is time you and I leave.”

  Wyenda broke her cruel look of victory directed at Meriel and glanced up at Hamish. She was about to speak when Hamish coldly cut her off. “You have said enough.”

  Wyenda’s baby-blue eyes widened as she saw the censure in Hamish’s expression. She was mystified. What had she said that was untrue? He had told her himself that he was not interested in the Schellden woman. That she was too quiet and understated to be inspiring. That he preferred someone with more vitality. And yet it was obvious Hamish did like Meriel enough to be upset that she might be hurt.

  Wyenda’s gaze shifted from Hamish to the head of the table. Only then did she realize that she had also seriously misinterpreted the relationship between Craig McTiernay and Meriel Schellden. Wyenda suspected that if she had not been sitting so far away from Craig, she might be leaving with a red mark across her face. Craig looked as if she had insulted his beloved wife, not some woman with whom he was occasionally forced to spend time. It made no sense. He himself continually announced that he and Meriel were just friends, a term that meant little because a man and a woman could never actually be close.

  Wyenda rose slowly to her feet, refusing to look repentant. The facts that were crystallizing into understanding only hardened her original belief. She was better than all of these crude Highlanders. She had been living in these insufferable mountains for nearly two years, with men as her one distraction from life’s monotony. But she was tired of waiting for an opportunity to leave and return to Perth. It was time to take action.

  She placed her hand in Hamish’s and looked up at him with tears in her eyes—another useful skill she had mastered. Leaning into his side for support, forcing him to put his arm around her, she allowed him to escort her out of the castle. Inwardly Wyenda smiled, knowing that all behind her—including Meriel that little baobh—were watching. Tonight, she would mollify her anger with Hamish one last time, but starting tomorrow she would focus on her real goal—to live the life she was born to have.

  Iain Matheson was not the best-looking nobleman and far from the fittest, nor was he laird of a clan. But he did live in an impressive stone tower within riding distance, and had numerous servants to address his whims. But most importantly, he was wealthy. It had been awhile, but Wyenda did not doubt her abilities to charm and ensnare. And it was time she put them back to work.

  Laurel closed the door to Meriel’s room and leaned against the wooden planks. “I’m impressed. You accomplished everything you wanted to achieve tonight. You must get your skills to predict human behavior from your father.”

  Meriel shrugged despondently. “Papa would have foreseen Wyenda’s viciousness with far more clarity and avoided it.”

  Laurel nodded. “Aye. That last remark of hers took everyone by surprise,” she said quietly.

  Meriel nodded solemnly and hugged her arms around her as she looked out her bedchamber window to the courtyard below. Hamish had been out there moments ago talking with Wyenda. The couple had been too far away for her to hear what they were saying as she and Laurel headed to the North Tower, and it had been impossible to tell from their behavior whether Hamish’s feelings for the woman had changed.

  “I hope you are not putting any credence into what that creature said,” Laurel cautioned. “Wyenda is just a bitter woman who wanted to make sure she was not alone in feeling pain.”

  “I know,” Meriel
said quietly. “But her aim was remarkably close to the truth. And if I should fail . . . then everything she said tonight would become my reality.”

  “Take heart. It will not be much longer before you will know for certain if your plan is going to succeed.”

  Meriel turned to look at Laurel. “Not my plan, our plan. I could not have done this without you.”

  Laurel waved her finger back and forth and casually walked up to Meriel, guiding her to the hearth chair to sit down. Carefully, Laurel began to take out the pins to unwind Meriel’s hair and then began to unbraid the long strands. “I will admit to helping with the execution, but you came to me with this brilliant idea. And more importantly, it is working.”

  Meriel sat quietly and stared at the flames. “I am no longer so sure,” she murmured to herself. She thought she had been prepared for this evening. Wyenda’s aggressive behavior had been key to prompting the next step in her plan, so much so that Meriel had escalated the friction. And yet, despite all the thought that had gone into everything that led up to this evening, Meriel never anticipated Wyenda being able to hurt her as she had.

  “I shall speak plainly, Meriel,” Laurel said in a soft but firm tone. “This is not my plan, but I did agree to be a part of it . . . and I don’t fail. So therefore your plan will work.” Laurel shook out the remaining thick, intertwined strands of Meriel’s hair. “Do you remember when you came to me and told me of your idea? I believed, just as you did, that you already had claimed Craig’s heart, but faced the difficulty of not only getting him to admit his love for you but actually acting upon it. You asked me what was the quickest, most sure way for a man to recognize his feelings. And I told you jealousy.”

  “Craig certainly was not jealous tonight.”

  “No, he wasn’t. But your plan required for him not to be jealous. Tonight was about removing any doubt in Craig’s mind that you and I are scheming together in an effort to win him. Wyenda may have offended you, but her caustic comments will be the instrument leading to your success. Remember, if she had not insulted you, the depression you are feeling right now would still be present, but for a far different reason.”

  Meriel blinked at the reminder. Laurel was right. There were far more important things upon which to spend energy. Tonight had never been about Wyenda. Having Hamish see her true demeanor was a secondary goal. The success of the evening had really depended solely on Laurel’s lack of reaction to Wyenda’s attacks. “Did it work?” Meriel asked with a mixture of eagerness and fear.

  “Just as you predicted,” Laurel assured her. “At first Craig was upset about the insults toward you, but when Wyenda launched her last attack, he was openly assessing me, trying to understand why I did not intervene. His face practically announced his conclusion that tonight was just another piece of an elaborate plan to make him prove his love by jumping to your defense. He thinks I was staying quiet to give him the opportunity to play the hero.”

  Meriel nodded with satisfaction. “I told you he would not rally to my defense if he thought for one moment he was being manipulated. Whenever Craig thinks his actions are part of some master plan, he does the exact opposite of what is desired. It was his honor that forced him to order her to leave.”

  “Hopefully that theory of yours remains true. If it does, then tonight proved that you have a very good, almost frightening understanding of my brother-in-law.”

  Meriel bit her bottom lip. “Now everything depends on this coming Friday and Saturday.”

  “Are you ready?” Laurel asked, moving to sit down and look Meriel in the eye.

  Meriel swallowed, but her hazel eyes were clear and committed. “What you really mean to ask is, can I do it? And the answer is, I have to. I have no other choice. But it will be the hardest thing I have ever had to do.”

  “Controlling passion can be difficult. . . .” Laurel sighed. “Honestly? It is not something I have remotely mastered. And unfortunately Conor knows it. Luckily, he has even less ability than I to manage his desires.”

  “I only have to control it for a short while. And if I succeed, then I have Saturday night to . . .” Meriel paused and then looked at Laurel questioningly. “How are you going to persuade Hamish to ask me to dine with him? If he doesn’t, then all this will be for—”

  Laurel put up her hand, dismissing Meriel’s look of concern, and smiled. “Leave that up to me.”

  Meriel bit her bottom lip. “Am I being fair to Hamish? I mean, not telling him everything?”

  “He has become a good friend to you.”

  Guilt flooded Meriel as she nodded her head. “More so than I ever anticipated. He uses flirtation as a mask to hide who he really is—one of the most generous, kind men I have ever met. He cannot see his own potential and underestimates his abilities as a leader. His friendship means a lot to me and I am wondering if I am being dishonest in not sharing all aspects of what I am trying to do.”

  Laurel inclined her head, giving sincere thought to Meriel’s misplaced concern. Laurel had watched Hamish at dinner almost as closely as she had Craig, and his facial expressions were quite mixed. The man was beginning to really care for Meriel, but it was also clear that he was fighting his feelings and did not want Meriel to know. If Hamish continued placing himself in her company, that was his choice. And if Craig wanted to risk Meriel falling for Hamish’s charms, then that was another choice as well.

  “No, you are not being dishonest or unfair,” Laurel finally answered. “And I do not answer your question lightly. If Wyenda loved Hamish, it would matter little what you or I thought of her, but she is using him. And even though Hamish may not know all the details of what you are planning, he knows that you are trying to win Craig’s heart, and he has agreed to participate in that endeavor.”

  Meriel stood up and hugged Laurel. “I just need a little luck.”

  Laurel returned the affectionate embrace and whispered into Meriel’s ear, “Conor always tells me that with a good plan, you need not luck, only the ability to execute it.”

  Meriel exhaled. Conor had never strategized ways to win a heart, she thought to herself.

  Chapter 6

  Craig drummed his fingers on the table as he sat slumped in his chair, alone in the McTiernay Great Hall. He took a deep breath, and once again mentally reviewed the surprising news he had heard.

  He had not seen Meriel since the dinner party. She had looked so forlorn that night, and yet not one time had she looked to him for comfort, support, or understanding. Right after Wyenda had launched her final assault, he had been trying to quickly devise a plan to whisk Meriel away, but before he knew it, the other guests were surrounding her, giving her the kind of support she used to seek from him. Sensing her need to flee the pitiful stares of the group, Craig was again seconds from intervening with the intention of escorting her far from the mob, when his sister-in-law announced that she was going to take Meriel back to her room. Forced to accept the delegated role of host, he could only watch as Laurel comforted Meriel in his stead.

  Then he had waited.

  For two full days he had been waiting, staying close to McTiernay Castle, making sure Meriel knew his whereabouts at all times. But not once did she ask for him. She had requested to see Laurel and Maegan—even Brenna—but not him, and thankfully not Hamish.

  This morning, he had decided to give her one more day to sort out her thoughts and feelings only to discover how wrong he had been about her fragile emotional state. He had returned to the Lower Hall to fetch something he had left behind, when he chanced upon Fallon and the housekeeper, Glynis, discussing how one of the rooms in the Warden’s Tower needed to be cleaned by midafternoon. Craig suspected he knew why, but it had still been somewhat of a jolt to learn that Meriel had scheduled a meeting with Hamish for a final fitting.

  Jealousy had seized him, but only for a moment. The explosive anger had sprung upon him so quickly it had taken a few minutes to recognize the irrational response and suppress it. Being jealous was a waste of energy. Besi
des, had not Meriel invited him to join her and Hamish? Granted, the invitation had been issued before the disastrous dinner, but it had not been rescinded, and Craig saw no reason why he should not attend. Consequently, he had immediately sent word to Meriel that he had decided to accept.

  Then he had gone to prepare himself in the Great Hall for the various means Meriel would cleverly employ to pull him away from the castle grounds once again. He waited for the emergencies, the pleas, Fallon’s delivery of unexpected chieftain duties—but none came. The noon meal had been prepared, served, and removed. Still nothing. It was now afternoon and Craig was still in position to join Hamish and Meriel. It did not make sense. Previously, every attempt to make him jealous had stemmed from his wondering what was happening between her and Hamish.

  Craig’s drumming fingers paused in mid-tap as his last image of them together came to mind. Honest pain had been swimming in Meriel’s eyes when Hamish’s arm had curved around Wyenda’s waist as they left the room. Was it possible Meriel had become attracted to Hamish? Her earlier claims of possibly falling in love with him had initially sounded preposterous, but suddenly Craig wondered if, in the process of trying to win him, she had discovered she actually liked Hamish. The possibility was slim, but it was also unnervingly reasonable.

  Immediately, Craig rose from his chair and left the Great Hall, heading toward the Warden’s Tower. It was still early, but when Hamish arrived, Craig intended to already be there. The three of them would enjoy the afternoon, talk about essentially nothing, and they would part with no future meetings planned—at least not between her and Hamish.

  Then tonight Craig fully intended to resume his and Meriel’s nightly discussions. If she did not come to visit with him, then he would come to her. If Meriel felt he had failed her the other night, he would explain how honestly enraged and close to violence he had been. Problem solved.