Read Online Chieftain by Arnette Lamb - Free Book Online Page A

fanciful notion spurred Johanna’s own fantasy, and she took a moment to ponder how differently this day might have unfolded. She could have been his faithful wife, who had pined in his absence; he could have been her devoted husband, who had been unjustly imprisoned. Their reunion would have been a cause for celebration, rife with loving glances, tightly held hands, and even a stolen kiss or two.
    Drummond would be wearing a fine surcoat that she had stitched and embellished with fancy embroidery. She’d hold the office of his personal barber and trim his shoulder length hair. He would give her a winsome smile, and she would live to do as he bade her. Side by side they would rule their kingdom, spreading love and peace to all who abided here.
    Was this uncomfortable evening the start of her penance for the sin of coveting her sister’s life? Regrets turned to melancholy, and Johanna staved off a wave of self-pity. She would take each day as it came. The nights, however, struck fear in her heart. He would expect intimacy; why else had he promised Alasdair a sibling? The irony of the situation struck Johanna as oddly funny, for her education as a woman was progressing backwardly; she knew how to raise children, but was ignorant in the begetting of them.
    She must stall as long as possible, and when that failed she would simply brazen her way out.
    “What if the angels want you back, Father?”
    Alasdair’s latest question drew her attention.
    “I’ll simply tell them I’m needed here,” Drummond answered.
    Around a bite of carrot, Alasdair said, “Aye, you have to get me a sister.”
    Johanna grew stock still. She could feel Drummond watching her, waiting for her reaction. Bertie shifted on the bench, causing it to rock. Evelyn let out a lovestruck sigh. Brother Julian pasted on a benevolent smile.
    “Aren’t you?” Alasdair wheedled, looking from her to Drummond. “You promised me a sister.”
    Praying her hand didn’t shake, Johanna reached for her goblet. “Alasdair, ’tis not suitable conversation for the table.”
    Drummond winked at his son, then sent her a knowing grin. “Your mother is correct. She and I will discuss the matter privately.”
    A contented Alasdair picked at his trencher. “Father, who’s guarding the gates of heaven?”
    Hoping to make Drummond as uncomfortable as she was at the moment, Johanna grinned. “Who indeed, Drummond?”
    He ran a finger along the high neckline of his shirt, gave her a disgruntled glance, then cleared his throat. She wondered if he would go along with the excuse she’d given for his absence, or would he explain to his son that he’d been imprisoned for the last seven years? Had Johanna not been so troubled about her own situation, she might have pitied him.
    Looking like a disarmed warrior who’d fallen to his enemy, he groped for an answer. At length, he said, “Are you worried that devils might get in?”
    A vigorous nod pitched Alasdair’s hair into his eyes. “Brother Julian says the devils are everywhere. They make mischief—even in young lads.”
    Relieved laughter rumbled in Drummond’s chest. “Like yourself?”
    “Well…” Alasdair raked his hair off his forehead and gave Johanna his sweetest smile. “I’m not evil, only headstrong and sometimes troublesome.”
    His father asked, “How does one punish a headstrong and troublesome lad?”
    As crestfallen as the day his first puppy had died, Alasdair stared at his meal. “He doesn’t get any custard.”
    Drummond’s handsome features softened, and in the dim candlelight he appeared younger than his years. Seeing him thusly, Johanna couldn’t resist asking, “Did your father make you forgo custards when you were wicked?”
    He cocked an eyebrow. “In his own fashion. Who is your overlord?”
    She wondered at the change in topic, but didn’t dare question him. “James Douglas the Red. His lands lie to the north in Dumfries proper.”
    “He has a reputation for yielding to the