The MacAllister Keep
Eight Years LaterRhiannon hated wearing dresses. She had only been in the bloody thing for an hour, but it seemed liked an eternity. She straightened her back and tried to pretend that the dress wasn't uncomfortable. Rhiannon had only agreed to wear it for Conner's sake. Several lairds surrounding MacAllister land had come to discuss an eventual war with a renegade clan. Needless to say, she was honored that he allowed her to sit in on the meeting, but she didn't understand why she had to wear the damned dress. Rhiannon swore she was going to kill the man who invented the godforsaken contraption.
She was trying to scratch her back when Brenna elbowed her side. Rhiannon placed her hands in her lap and sighed. She looked over at Conner and saw a look of concern on his face. The clan that was causing trouble was the Boswells. They had tried to cross into Sinclair land again and were causing trouble. Rhiannon knew it was only a matter of time before the Sinclairs finally put the Boswells out of their misery. They had been asking for trouble for years. The Sinclairs were here just to make sure that Boswells had no strong allies to cause a war that could last for years. Ciarán Sinclair was a man that didn't like to war his people for very long.
"Of course you have the support of the MacAllisters, Ciarán. We will not fight with you, but we will not help the Boswells if they come to us for aid. You have my word," Conner said.
"You have the word of the MacKinnons as well," Rhiannon said. "However, if you request our aid you will not be denied. My men like a good war every now and then."
All attention was drawn to Rhiannon. She sat up straight and looked at Conner, daring him to over mine her authority of her clan. He just nodded let her know that it was her decision, not his. Rhiannon smirked as to say thank you.
"May I ask your name, milady?" Laird Sinclair asked.
"Lady Rhiannon MacKinnon, my laird," she replied.
"Where is your husband, milady?" another laird asked. Rhiannon couldn't remember his name or his clan. He was tall, she knew that, and he was strangely familiar. His chestnut hair fell to his shoulders and his ice blue eyes chilled her to the core. She turned and gave him her full attention.
"I am not married." Rhiannon said, as if marriage was malicious affliction. "Is that a problem, my laird?"
"Not married? Who lords over your clan, milady?" Laird Aidan Maitland asked incredulously.
"Rhiannon," Conner warned, but Rhiannon ignored him.
"There no master in my house, Laird Maitland, only one mistress and that is I. I am both mistress and master in my home."
"I've never heard of anything like this insanity," Aidan said looking at Conner.
Rhiannon stood angrily. "I assure you, my laird, that I am capable of running my clan properly without help of a man, but if it comforts you to know, I have Laird MacAllister's guidance. However, I've been lording over my clan for three years without any problems and without the help of Conner." Her eyes blazed defiance. Aidan widened his eyes. He was impressed that a woman had ruled over a clan without any defiance from her clansmen.
"Rhiannon," Conner said firmly. Rhiannon looked at Conner and then sat, but sat hesitantly and then placed her hand on her sword that she had propped against her chair. She starred at Aidan with fire in her eyes, daring him to saying something else to insult her. Her intent was broken when she heard a burly laugh from the laird, who's name she could not remember.
"What is it that you find so funny, Riordan?" Ciarán asked.
Riordan, Laird Buchanan, whose name Rhiannon finally remembered, had been watching her as she conversed with Aidan. She was a defiant lass, strong willed, and easily angered. When he saw her place her hand on the weapon by her side, it was laughable to think she could best Aidan with a sword. She was arrogant and foolish to think so. She probably couldn't even lift the damn thing. However, he found it best not to mention these things simply because it would distress the lass farther. She may be able rule over her clan, but that did not mean she was warrior.
"Just a passing memory of my mother, Ciarán," Riordan replied as he watched Rhiannon. He looked at her hand on her weapon and smiled.
Rhiannon's gaze flickered from Riordan to the weapon at her side. She quickly removed her hand and placed it back in her lap. She was thankful the man said nothing because it could be considered a threat putting her hand on the hilt of her sword. She took a breath and looked at Conner. He obviously noticed her gesture as well if the look on his face was any inclination. He probably wasn't too happy about her outburst either. She promised to not to say anything about the current status of the MacKinnon clan. There would be hell to pay later. She knew it and a renewed interest in getting her married.
"A passing memory of your mother? I doubt it," Ciarán exclaimed, but he decided to let the matter go for now. His gaze moved to Rhiannon, who was now looking down at the table. "I thank you Lady MacKinnon for your offer of aid in our time of need. If I require it, your clan will be the first that I ask."
Rhiannon looked at the laird and gave a curt nod. "We will do anything you ask of us to help, my laird."
"However, Conner, I need you to attack from the north of their land. I need your alliance and your warriors." Rhiannon looked at Ciarán in disbelief. Her lands bordered the Boswells to the north.
"Nay, Ciarán. I cannot. This truly is not my war and I cannot interfere unless I feel we are in danger," Conner replied as he watched Rhiannon's expression change from acceptance to fury. Ciarán had expressed his true feelings toward the offer of MacKinnon aid. He was shunning it. "I am sorry."
"I understand," Ciarán looked at Brenna. "You have a family to care for. Thank you for hearing us. If you happen to change your mind, we will be happy to accept your help."
Riordan watched as Rhiannon seethed at the insult Ciarán had given her. She said nothing, but he knew what she felt. He could see it her eyes. They had turned two shades darker. Rhiannon kept her gaze away from the lairds from fear that she would murder every last one of them. She glanced at Riordan, who smirked as he watched her. She narrowed her eyes and adverted her gaze.
Ciarán rose from his seat and so did everyone else except, Rhiannon. She kept to her seat as everyone stood and shook hands with Conner. She took deep breaths as she tried to keep her anger under control. Rhiannon refused to look at the lairds because the sheer fury she felt inside her chest.
"I offer you our home for the night my lairds. 'Tis to dark to travel this night. If my husband does not object," Brenna stated. Rhiannon looked at Brenna with horror. She had to be jesting. These men in this keep with her overnight. She could not bare it. Rhiannon looked at Conner expectantly.
"I do not object," Conner replied to his wife.
"We would be glad to accept your hospitality, Conner," Ciarán replied. Rhiannon looked toward the door. She could kill Conner and Brenna right now as well. She could massacre the whole bloody room.
"Good, I will tell cook of the changes," Brenna announced as she excused herself. Rhiannon remained seated as everyone left the great hall. When she was alone she let a growl of frustration.
"I'm going to bloody kill him," Rhiannon muttered. "I'll kill all of them in this bloody household." She stood from her seat finally. She picked up her sword and unsheathed it. She swung in front of her one good time and then rested it against her shoulder. Rhiannon sighed. "I will not be defeated in this." She turned from the table and looked up to be startled. Riordan stood in the doorway watching her with an amused look on his face. "Can I help you, my laird?"
"So you can lift it. Single-handed too. I must admit I'm surprised," he drawled as he walked toward her. Rhiannon dropped the sword to the floor as if it all of sudden became too heavy for her to hold. Riordan stopped and looked at her.
"You're mistaken, my laird. I cannot lift it," Rhiannon replied.
"You lie. I just saw you swing it front of you," he answered as he picked it up.
"Did you? Must have been out of fury of the insult Laird Sinclair sent upon me. Fury tends to make you stronger, my laird," she explained.
"Fury you say? Sounds like nonsense to me, milady," he argued as he swung the sword to test its movement.
"Call it what you will, my laird," Rhiannon said, looking fearfully as Riordan handled her sword. "Now if you would please return the sword to me, I'll be on my way."
Riordan examined the sword and nodded. " 'Tis a fine sword. It must belong to a great warrior."
"Aye. It does. Now, if you would give it to me so that I may return it to its owner I would be much obliged."
"Anything," Riordan said as he took the sheath from her, "for a lady." He sheathed the sword for her and set it on the table. He nodded to her as he left the hall.
"Arrogant man," she muttered after he left the room.