A Chieftain's Wife Read online

  A Chieftain’s Wife

  An Irish Witch Series, Book 4

  Leigh Ann Edwards

  A Chieftain’s Wife

  Copyright © 2017 Leigh Ann Edwards

  The Tule Publishing Group, LLC

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-947636-03-3

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  Dedication

  I would like to dedicate this book – A Chieftain’s Wife to the three males from my original family.

  To my dad, Frank Edwards, I am really very grateful I had such a hard-working steadfast father. It was reassuring to know he was always someone I could depend on as a child and as I grew older.

  To my little brother, Grant Edwards, who we lost at age eleven. His gentleness, endearing smile and beautiful dark brown eyes are forever treasured in my heart. Grant’s love for animals, nature and life in general, were inspiring to me even though I was the eldest sibling. I miss him still and will “always” wonder what might have been.

  To my brother Kerry, I’ve mentioned it before, but your wit and humor are gifts I appreciate very much. You have lightened the losses and many difficult times we have shared through the years. Although it’s only you and me who remain from our childhood family, I’m really so glad we have each other and we can still share the many memories.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The Irish Witch Series

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to sincerely thank Meghan Farrell, Managing Editor, Lindsey Stover, Marketing and Editorial Manager, Michelle Morris, Editorial Assistant, and Sarah McDonagh, Marketing and Publicity Assistant. These four ladies at Tule Publishing are all remarkably efficient, skilled, personable, and helpful in all they do. They have assisted me in so many ways during this journey in seeing my series published and marketed. I am greatly indebted to each of them for ensuring Alainn and Killian’s story continues.

  Thanks to Sinclair Sawhney for her content editing. Her great ideas and insightful suggestions are always appreciated. Thanks so much to the diligent copy editors as well for your hard work in assisting me in some of the areas in which I struggle.

  I would once more like to acknowledge Ravven who continues to come up with beautiful and captivating cover designs for The Irish Witch Series. I am truly in awe of her creative gifts.

  I would like to say a heartfelt thanks to my wonderful family for always supporting me when I’m sure it seems my head, and probably sometimes my heart, are in sixteenth century Ireland more than with them. I am grateful they understand how passionate I am about my writing and my series.

  Thanks to my great friends for your unending encouragement and the various ways you continue to assist me in realizing my dream.

  I would like to say a huge thank you to the amazing readers who have been so good at reaching out to let me know how much they are enjoying my series. It is always such a delight and a confidence boost to hear there are others who love my books and want to keep reading more. Their interest and investment in the lives of Alainn and Killian makes me even happier to be able to continue creating my stories.

  Chapter One

  Ireland 1536

  As the ocean breeze rustled her skirts and caressed her long unbound hair, Alainn O’Brien inhaled the salty sea air. She and her husband, Killian, had been living at his castle, Castle O’Donnel, for over two months now. During this time together they had finally begun to experience wondrous peace and contentment.

  She attempted to simply embrace this long awaited happiness... and yet there was an undeniably ominous feeling that steadily grew within her, and threatened to disrupt their newfound joy. She had decided she wouldn’t dwell upon it. Instead, she had chosen to revel in this time of serenity, unwilling to consider what uncertainties or upheaval the future might hold for her and her only love.

  As she gazed out upon the beauty of the wild Irish Sea, her heart fluttered, for today she would see her man again. They had been parted for well over two weeks now; he was off at a gathering of the clans and she’d missed him much. In all the years they had known each other, even long before they’d declared their love for one another, they had never been apart for that long.

  Since their arrival at Castle O’Donnel, named for Killian’s mother’s clan, Alainn had attempted to calm all her unusual magical abilities; she had pushed each one of them deep, deep down inside her, hopeful she would truly be capable of leading an uncomplicated life... a normal life. Yet she was loath to admit, she suspected she was only temporarily suppressing the feeling that this time of tranquility would not last. She couldn’t say exactly what was bringing about this uneasiness, but something within her caused her to believe the winds of change would soon be upon them. She shook her head to dispel the disparaging thoughts and walked toward the seashore to sit for a time and soak her tired feet within the cool water.

  She sat, staring out at the sea, feeling the frothy waves lapping rhythmically upon her feet, and the spray of the churning water against the rocks softly falling upon her face. She watched as a large seal lazily sunned itself on a nearby rock. When he noticed her, he slapped his flippers together jubilantly and barked out an invitation to join him.

  “Not today, young friend,” She smiled. “Although you know how I take much delight in swimming with you and your kind, the white crests on the waves this day keep me safely bound to the land,” she said as she lovingly rubbed her belly. He nodded to
her as though understanding her every word and he soon resumed his sedentary position upon the rocks.

  She observed many brightly colored puffins awkwardly walking upon the shore and playfully diving beneath the water. Several vocal seagulls squawked loudly to one another as they glided gracefully against the wind. A jaunty heron scooped up a fish and dropped it so near to Alainn, she jumped, startled as the water splashed her.

  “If you’re thinkin’ to share your meal with me, sure I’m grateful, but I prefer my fish well cooked, Mr. Heron.” The tall gangly bird blinked knowingly at her and gobbled down its catch before setting off once more.

  As always, during times when her mind went to dismal subjects, she calmed herself with her great affinity for nature, her deep connection to animals, and most especially loving thoughts of her husband, young and valiant, Killian O’Brien. Now that they were married and shared a bond and an intimacy she’d never even dreamed two people could know, she thought these past weeks were unbearably lonely without him.

  She felt the sturdy kick within her, and a warm smile crossed her lips. Their son would be born in just over two moons. She placed her hand to her swollen belly once more and chuckled to herself. Killian would surely see a noticeable change in her for the child now grew at a rapid rate, and her belly had grown considerably also.

  After she’d placidly sat for a time, she placed her hand to the small of her back as she stood, and brushed the sand from her skirts. Her waist remained small for she carried the child low and entirely frontward. When she glanced down she laughed again. She thought she looked as though she’d swallowed a wee boulder so round was her belly. And her boy-child would grow inside her for nearly two more months; surely she’d be enormous by then.

  The southern sun still held lovely warmth, though the September wind that blew in from the sea brought a promise of cooler days. She pulled the woolen shawl around her shoulders and sighed. As she glanced at the sun’s position, she deducted it was time she made her way back to the castle. She placed her slippers upon her feet and reluctantly turned and left the water behind her. All the years Killian had lived at Castle O’Brien, which boasted a location near the mighty River Shannon, he had spoken of how glorious it was to live near the sea, and now she knew firsthand it was truth. She adored living here.

  These past weeks that he’d been away, she’d scarcely missed a day strolling along the seashore. She’d longed to explore the many intriguing caves nearby, but Killian would not be in favor of her walking near the slippery, sea-swept rocky surfaces given her advancing term, for he was fiercely protective of her and their unborn child.

  She had nearly lost the child over three moons earlier and it had caused much consternation and fear for both of them. There had been an attempt on her life. She had been struck with a dart that contained a potent poison and, in truth, she had very nearly died. She absent-mindedly caressed the protective amulet that hung from the silver chain around her neck. It had been charmed by her mother, Mara, soon after Alainn was born and more recently by her grandfather, a gifted druid.

  Killian had sometimes questioned the power within the amulet after she’d been purposely attacked and poisoned, and why it hadn’t prevented the mishap entirely. As with any strain of magic, there was seldom a concise answer. Perhaps the amulet had partially protected her and had been the very reason she had lived through the ordeal. Even with all the many supernatural powers and intuitive abilities she possessed, she was often left with many unanswered questions and not a few doubts.

  Although Alainn was hesitant to admit it, she believed it was because of her unusual magical abilities she had drawn the attention of any number of evil beings and untoward creatures and, regrettably, she probably always would. An unwelcome shiver ran up and down her spine for even a magically charmed amulet would surely not be capable of protecting her against those types of dark enemies and that level of evil.

  Once again, she pushed the unpleasant memories and fearful thoughts from her mind and lingered only on their present happiness. She steadied her uneasiness by allowing hers thoughts to drift back to her beloved, Killian.

  He had sent a messenger a week earlier, alerting her to his late return and though he was not to be expected home for at least another two days, he would be here by sunset today. Often times her unusual abilities were not welcomed for she had been an apt seer all her life. There had been many instances in her seven and ten years when she would have gladly traded that ability, but not this day. Today she had awoken knowing she would be in her husband’s arms this night and she’d spent the entire day anticipating that with great pleasure. She’d alerted Cookson, their head cook who had come with them from Castle O’Brien, that Killian would be home for the evening meal and she hoped it would give him ample time to prepare a glorious feast. He had assured her it would.

  As Alainn pleasantly meandered through the verdant glens that clearly resembled a patchwork quilt of varying shades of green, interrupted only by the numerous formations of winding stone walls, she stopped briefly and leaned against one of the uneven moss-covered stone structures. She listened to the soothing sound of the plentiful waterfalls tumbling down the rock face of the nearby hills.

  She hesitantly glanced toward the location of the adjacent raised ground that formed a large perfect circle, a fairy ring. The local folk were most fearful and suspicious of these fairy forts. They were adamant they remain undisturbed and often were hesitant to go anywhere near them.

  Alainn could distinctly hear the lovely familiar music and the many soft voices of the fairies and other mystical creatures that dwelled within. They were whispering softly to her, beckoning her to come spend time with them... and a part of her ached to do so. But, as she’d done so many times in the past weeks, she resisted. She was attempting to quiet her own magical abilities entirely, as well as terminate her association with all things supernatural. She turned away from the enchanting call of the fairies, lifted her skirts, and hurried on past the fairy ring, once more ignoring the deep desire to enter the magical realm.

  As Alainn continued on homeward, she could see the familiar, distant grey outline of Castle O’Donnel. It was an undeniably grand structure. Castle O’Brien, where she had lived most of her life, had been built by the Normans and was a tall imposing castle, but not nearly as large as Castle O’Donnel, for it was magnificently massive and sprawled widely over a considerable area. There were many adjoining structures that had been erected in different eras by various kings and chieftains. The parapets were enormous and the giant turrets seemed to reach up to the clouds. She had spent many a day searching through the nearly endless chambers, alcoves and corridors within the castle’s walls. It had taken some time, but she believed she had surveyed nearly every inch of the castle she was proud to now call her home.

  Alainn passed the grove of apple trees and noticed there were several still heavy with ripened fruit. An apple dessert would be a delicious addition to the banquet, and she would be most pleased to make the dish herself for it was Killian’s favorite. When she’d first arrived, the servants had been disbelieving that a woman of noble station would be compelled to spend time in the kitchen and even lend a hand when it was needed, but she dearly missed being in a kitchen where she had spent much of her life.

  Alainn thought it unlikely the servants here knew much of her past history. For although she was the granddaughter of Niall O’Rorke one of Ireland’s most important and influential chieftains, that had only recently been discovered. She had lived most of her life believing she was a farrier’s daughter, a servant of lowly birth. She had been a healer, a respected and revered herbalist, but a servant to Chieftain Hugh O’Brien and his kin. Killian was Hugh’s nephew and she and Killian had fallen in love even though their love was greatly forbidden. They had secretly married much to the fury of Killian’s uncle, but that, too, was long since in the past and as always Alainn tried to keep her disagreeable thoughts of Hugh O’Brien far distanced from her mind. She seldom allowed h
erself to recall the many unpleasant memories involving the ill-favored man.

  She missed his wife, Lady Siobhan, though, and their son Rory O’Brien, her cousin. Lady Siobhan was a daughter to Niall O’Rorke and Rory, his grandson. Rory had been a friend throughout her life and both he and Killian had never treated her as a girl of low station, but as an equal, long before it had proven to be true.

  As she filled her frock’s apron with the juicy red apples, she heard a horse approaching and she smiled up at MacKenzie MacCarther. He was a huge burly man, a Scot who had lived in Ireland for over two decades and Captain of the Guard of Killian’s large army. He was also a valued friend to Killian and Alainn. He had once been in the employ of Hugh O’Brien, but had a falling out with the man and now served as his nephew’s captain.

  “Lady O’Brien, you should not be reaching so high in your delicate condition, nor carrying such a heavy load, it can no be good for the wee bairn you carry.”

  “Mac, I swear if you address me as Lady O’Brien one more time I’ll pitch the entire lot of these apples at you, and I’ve a good arm! You have known me all my life and my title is not a requirement when you speak to me.”

  The large Scot smiled down at her from his position atop the huge steed.

  “Aye, that may well be, but you are a lady now, Alainn. And your husband wouldna be so verra pleased to see you carrying that load.”

  “Sure you’re correct about that. He’s undoubtedly protective of me, and he’s clearly enlisted you in keeping watch over me as much as the castle and his land in his stead.”

  “Aye, well the lad loves ye well, lass. And he’d not be liable to loosen his grip on ye, even if you didn’t carry his bairn.”

  Alainn beamed at Mac’s statement and, as she placed her hand to her belly, the unborn child issued a hearty blow. She smiled as she saw the apples tumble from their nest in her frock. The bulky man dismounted and grabbed several handfuls of the ripe fruit placing them in his saddle pouch.