Page 3 of A Wife for the Highland Wolf
Lydia wanted that for herself. A loving husband and a happy marriage. Even more than that, she wanted to be able to support and aid her sisters. Everyone had always protected her from the worst that befell them, and Lydia longed to be able to do something for them in return. Finding a good husband wouldmean they no longer had to worry so much about her safety, as it would be her husband’s duty to protect her.
Additionally, it would also silence the whispers. Despite her tender age, being unmarried always brought unwelcome questions and suspicions. Notwithstanding her natural modesty, Lydia knew she was a bonnie lass, and knew as well that there were those who thought her unwed state meant there was something amiss with her that her pretty face hid. It was untrue, but that didn’t stop the rumors from flowing.
With three older sisters, it was impossible to ever be truly lonely, but Lydia couldn’t help feeling that something was lacking in her life. . Perhaps it was impractical, even naive, but Lydia wanted to experience a romance like the ones she’d read about, and the kind of love her sisters seemed to have found.
“Ye ken, I’ve only heard what’s been said of him at Highland Gatherings and the like.” Isobel’s words yanked Lydia out of her thoughts, and back to the subject of Laird Lochlann.
“Well, tis more than I ken of him. I’ve never heard much, save that the old laird died a few years ago, and the new laird, his son, is reclusive.” Lydia frowned at the book in her lap. “And what’s in these records, of course.”
Isobel frowned. “I couldnae go to the last Gathering with Alex, what with the mornin' sickness and all, but he mentioned Laird Lochlann. Said there’s rumors that the clan may ask him to step aside, for he cannae seem to form any alliances to aid them.”
“He cannae form any alliances?” Alliances were a necessity among the many clans of the Highlands, and there were few offenses so great that a laird would be shunned so harshly. “Maybe he really did kill his wife.” Lydia pursed her lips. “Or is the wife a speculation as well?”
“Nay. That I can be sure of being true. She was a lass from a neighboring clan, and they married to end a feud of some sort. Tis said she was expecting his heir, but once the bairn was born, he killed her. Dinnae have more use for her, and nay interest in havin’ a wife to keep him from doing as he pleased.”
“Surely, if the clan had witnessed such a thing, they’d have taken action?” Lydia couldn’t imagine anyone letting a kin-killer, even if it was kin-by-marriage, escape without consequence.
“Och, but word is nay one actually saw him commit the deed. They were alone on the road, travelin' to visit her kinfolk, and by the end of the journey she was dead. There was a story about bandits or the like, but nay proof of them.” Isobel’s voice was grim.
“Well, surely that’s nae so uncommon. Bandits attack on the roads all the time, and some of them are too superstitious or cautious to leave evidence that might lead back to them.”
“Aye, and that was me first thought too, until Alex told me the rest of it. According to the older lairds and some of the Elders of his clan, the marriage wasnae a happy one. Seems the laird and his wife were always arguin’ and fightin’. Shoutin’ fit to be heard clear down to the village, and some say it came to blows morethan once. They say the truth of it was that it wasnae bandits, but that he killed her as soon as he’d proved to her kin that she and the bairn were alive and healthy, rather than stay wed.”
That was a troubling thought. Lydia frowned. “But…they couldnae prove the truth one way or another?”
“They couldnae. But her clan renewed the feud over her death, and though there’s nae fighting now, tis only because their clan cannae afford to lose more warriors, nor their only chance at an heir, now the laird is getting on in years, with nae issue other than a deceased daughter, and a grandson in his enemy’s keeping.”
Lydia considered that. “They must have had some reason to risk the fight, kenning that. But even so…surely ye’ve some thoughts on the truth of the matter, Isobel.”
Her sister scowled. “As to murderin’ his wife, I’ll nae say one way or the other, for I’ve nae proof. But even so, I do wonder what sort of man would have a woman near childbirth traveling with him, or risk being on the road with a newborn bairn and his maither.” Isobel thinned her lips in disapproval. “Me Alex wouldnae ever take such risk with me, nae even if Nora told him it was safe. And ye ken how her husband feels about riskin’ her.”
“Aye. But ye ken Emma travels with Hunter much of the time, and ye cannae say he’d ever do anything to risk her.”
“She dinnae travel with him when she was carrying their bairn. Och, I think those nine months mark the longest Hunter hasever voluntarily stayed indoors since we’ve kenned him. And even after the birth they dinnae leave the castle grounds for months.”
Lydia considered that fact. It was true that all three of her sisters stayed at home for the most part when they were with child. Even Nora, despite her passion for being a healer and her determination to offer her skills to those in need, had remained in her husband’s home and had the patients come to her during that time.
She looked at Isobel’s prominent belly. “Is it really so difficult and dangerous to travel when ye're carrying a bairn? Or directly after the birth?”
“Och, aye.” Isobel scowled at her rounded stomach, though it was a scowl liberally laced with deep affection. “Me feet and back are always hurtin’. I cannae pull a bow at the moment, and even the thought of trying to ride…” She snorted derisively. “It’d take a troop of guards to get me into and out of the saddle, never mind keepin' me balance doin’ anythin’ other than a slow walk.” She sighed. “I cannae speak for after the birth, but I wouldnae wish to have to care for a newborn bairn on the road.”
“Laird Lochlann shouldnae have been making his wife travel.” Lydia shook her head. “Truly, men who are cruel to their female relations, or their wives, should be spirited away by the Fair Folk, or hunted by the Wild Hunt. It would be even better if they disappeared entirely.”
“Aye. I ken one cannae believe all the rumors, especially after seein’ what our cousin did to Hunter, but still…” Isobel shook her head. “They say that Laird Lochlann is short tempered and likes his drink, and that he’s kenned to threaten those who cross him. They say he threatened to kill a man’s daughter for speaking ill of him.”
“Surely that’s an exaggeration.”
“I wouldnae ken, but there was nay lass I ever met at the Highland Gatherings that was willin' to come near him. Nae even the married ones are willin' to risk being in his presence.” Isobel looked worried. “There’s also rumors about how his faither died. They cannae all be wrong, and a man with such a reputation for violence isnae one I’d want to have dealin's with.” Lydia shivered at the thought.
“Well, have ye met any members of his clan or council? Maybe one of them has a better notion of who he truly is.” Laird Lochlann sounded like a beast, but she’d heard awful things about Hunter and Alex as well, and they’d turned out to be good men.
“Nay. He’s too reclusive. But I hear his father was a willin' supporter of our cousin. They had an alliance when Geoffrey was actin' as Laird Clyde, for all that they never came to his aid against Hunter.”
Lydia shuddered. Anyone who willing to aid her cousin was either deceived by his honeyed words or worse than a brute. Geoffrey had been a power-mad, depraved bastard.
“If Laird Lochlann’s son is of the same nature, perhaps tis better that he’s nae inclined to socialize. Surely, we’re all better off. And it’s nae as if he needs a wife…nae in the normal way of things. Unless ye’ve heard similar stories about his heir?” That didn’t bear thinking about. A man who could also harm his child was truly a monster.
“Nay, I’ve nae heard anythin’ save the bairn was born. Rumor has it though, that one of his kinfolk has taken over the bairn’s care. Some say tis because he has nay notion of how to raise a bairn, and some say tis because nae even his own kinfolk would trust him with a wee, helpless bairn.”
