Chattan Bride

By Maria York

As the daughter of a strong English baron, Isabel is compelled by peace negotiations to become the child-bride of the enemy, the powerful, handsome and fierce Scottish Laird of the Chattan clan, Alysandir. Her youth and his distaste for a marriage alliance with his enemy render her strenuous efforts to win the approval of her husband almost futile. Even though she failed him in a hopelessly complex situation, why would he allow his former fiancé to get away with an attempt to kill her? When her dying father calls her home to England, she is forced to be braver than her years as her exiled, murderous half-brother, Gilbert, attempts to wrest control of Bamborough Castle, their family home, from her father, who was determined to never allow Gilbert the inheritance. Could Alysandir, her wizened warrior husband soften her battle-hardened heart, protect her from her treacherous half-brother and win back her love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781483598826

Book preview

15

CHAPTER 1

January, 1217. Gillian and her sister Isabel clamorously entered the great hall still shaking their skirts from the snow that stubbornly clung in icy clumps. The dogs greeted them with deep, loud barks only forcing them to shout over the sudden noise that the warm hall elicited. Their father, Baron Richard, commanded peace, immediately bringing the girls to silence and the dogs to heel at his side. Gillian, though the elder of the two, began to giggle. Isabel hushed her sister and assisted her in removing the hardened snow weighing down the edges of Gillian’s heavy red skirt. Neither had yet noticed the guest leaning carelessly against the mantle.

These are just little girls, Alysandir thought. Aye, he had been told they were young, but was his bride to be a helpless child? As he was told the older girl was already promised, it would be the youngest who would be his bride. His eyes rested on the taller sister, and though her eyes were large, almost too large, they were an appealing shade of blue. And her lips seemed like a large red smear again too big for her little face. She was assisting her sister in kicking the snow from her shoes. Now the pretty sister in red, though barely fifteen if his eyes gauged correctly, would do quite well as his bride as she grew. She had an easy smile and already had an ample bosom. Her blue eyes were bright and happy and her skin was as pure as the snow from which she had come. And he had a preference for blond hair. Aye, she would do just fine. If he was to obey his new liege lord, King Alexander II, marriage to her was necessary.

He had stayed too long in England and it was wearing on him. Requested to accompany his king, Alexander, to Canterbury to do homage to the invading Capetian king of England in August, Alysandir had been pressed into staying there during the tumultuous battles and the death of King John of England and the treaty which sent the Capetian king home only a couple of months ago. King Alexander of Scotland had recently settled the border dispute with the counselors to the English King Henry III, as yet a child, to stabilize what borders the English could as they struggled to regain control of their quickly disintegrating continental interests. It was settled upon that a Scottish laird with influence must marry an English border bride with a view to an heir for peace. However noble this idea sounded to the kings and their counselors in their private deliberations, it sounded like punishment to Alysandir.

Daughters, Richard called to the pair who were still catching their breaths from the cold. Come greet our guest. Surprised and still snow-blinded, both spun to immediate attention and came forward as gracefully as two trembling little flowers to the edge of the table. Alysandir, I present my eldest Gillian, who is betrothed to Henry de Vescy of Alnwick. Gillian had been trained to move to her guest and curtsy politely, but could not move toward the strangely dressed giant without bringing Isabel’s elbow.

He looks so odd, she pleaded with Isabel who shook off her sister with the command to go. After the briefest curtsey, she rushed back to Isabel’s side.

Alysandir was disappointed. He had mistaken the taller of the two as the eldest daughter. But Gillian was the oldest and prettiest, and was already claimed by another. His task had no discernable personal advantage. If there was one virtue he had learned in his long years of responsibility in training new soldiers, it was to hide his frustration. Isabel, the youngest, was less appealing than her sister, but she did not have to be coaxed to make her greeting, as did Gillian. Nay, she approached him with a warm smile, made a perfect curtsy and even took the liberty to ask how his journey had been.

Pleasant enough, he responded apathetically. Isabel nodded and smiled up at him as if to say: Well, of course it was pleasant if your journey brought you to my wonderful home.

His deep voice had shaken her to the bone though her smile hid her alarm. His kilt was of deep red with lines as blue as the sky on a summer’s day and flecks of green, and was familiar to her from wartime deliberations she attended at her father’s knee beneath the table. The border war had prevented interaction with the enemy Scots though her father had always told them that their marriages would be political alliances and they must learn the Gaelic and Norman-French tongues and obey the strange rules they would impose. But, Isabel thought, this was the first time she was presented to her father’s enemy and it was hard to take her eyes off of him. The silent moment brought her back to her senses and she curtsied again, deeply in case she stared too long and offended him, and moved back to Gillian’s side. Luckily she was promised to the kindest man Isabel had ever met, Henry. It was all Gillian ever talked about. Perhaps this man was sent to discuss the prospective eligible men in Scotland and present their names for her father’s perusal.

She is too young, Alysandir stated lowly. The curious pair could have overheard even his whisper.

I am in agreement, Richard said with his eyes fixed on Isabel. The directive from the king stated only that the marriage be performed. I ask you to delay all except its consecration until she is older. In truth, I am told she is not yet capable of producing an heir. I vouch that she speaks with authority and can capably command a household. She has been trained to obey her husband and will not question the purpose of this alliance.

It was wise of you to teach her. Life would be difficult for her if lessons such as this were not given early and instruction not provided. The warrior crossed his arms at his broad chest and looked hard at the little thing called Isabel. Bedding her would kill her at this age. Perhaps his own father should have instructed him better on the purpose of a political alliance such as this. He had not pictured his wedding day to be so dreary. No, he had not pictured his wedding to an English girl, much less to a child bride such as this.

Alysandir, I speak to you as her father now. Sit, please. It took Richard a full minute after the request had been met to continue. I am fond of the little one. Her mother’s last request was to see Isabel sitting in my lap at her bedside. This one you will treat well, and this is not a request, Laird.

Their father spoke softly and the girls could not hear what was said to the oversized guest. Whatever was spoken was agreed upon and the battle-scarred warriors stood simultaneously.

William, Richard called to his first in command. A silent order was immediately obeyed and the young man disappeared from the hall. A rush of cold air went right up Gillian’s spine and she trembled a little. Isabel was completely unaware of what was about to occur. It was her father’s wish that she remain ignorant of this meeting until the time came when she had to be informed that her life as she knew it was over. In truth, it would have been her nature to build an army against anything she disliked greatly. No, he thought, that wasn’t fair. It was, however, an apt description of her illegitimate half-brother, Gilbert, the son he could not and would never recognize as his heir. Isabel, her father beckoned her closer to the fire and motioned her to come between him and the bronzed warrior. She maneuvered around him and was drawn into her father’s protective arms. She felt him sigh against her braids. The shadow cast by Alysandir disappeared as he moved to the corner of the room. This is a happy day for you, he proclaimed in a voice that belied him. You have been prepared for this since your birth and today you will marry a great man, Laird of the clan Chattan, Alysandir.

Isabel’s head shot up and her eyes instantly pierced her husband to be. Gillian had crumbled into sobs in the corner and earned her a glance from her sister that instantly recovered her. This silent interaction made Alysandir nod in approval. This little one was strong. Had not her father told him that? But she was nearing fourteen and her strength now could spell disaster for him in the years ahead. He would have to show her who was in command. He was grateful that Isabel did not dissolve into tears upon hearing this news. Nay, her eyes were like daggers as they fell upon him again. But Isabel instantly controlled her rage and softened her expression upon this man. She was to obey him and be his wife.

I know my duties, father, she looked up at him and saw a tear fall down his cheek. Papa? she brushed the tear from his face and suddenly worried that she should be crying as well. Her knees began to shake a little and she looked back at Alysandir. I am not afraid of him. You don’t need to worry for me.

No, I do not, child. But you are not afraid of anything and for that I thank God. You will please your husband, Isabel, he commanded. In truth, he was glad Alysandir hadn’t heard Isabel confess that he didn’t scare her. It might offend him. Little this child would care for that.

Yes, father.

Up to your room, now. Change into your mother’s wedding dress.

She began to leave the room and then turned back and approached the Scotsman. Isabel took a steadying breath and looked him in the eyes. Good God, his gaze could part a mountain, she thought. My lord, I vow to you that I will obey and please you.

Save your vows for the proper time, child. The priest will arrive shortly.

Yes, my lord, but I thought it important that you should hear it without… coercion.

He laughed warmly drawing her father’s attention. Was she charming him already? Please God.

Then I accept your vow, he smiled. She breathed her relief and smiled up at him. She was about to take her leave when he said: Be ready to leave when you come down again. We shall be departing immediately. She could not hide her disappointment but nodded her assent.

Surely you can stay for the marriage feast, Richard urged when the girls had left to prepare for the wedding.

I must see to a difficulty between the clans MacPhail and Davidson. If I delay longer it will be war between them.

Allow my daughter to return for Gillian’s wedding. She has nerves that no one can calm save Isabel. The child also has a fondness for lists and such. If you wish I will send supplies of this nature to her.

You are aware that Perth provides all variety of pleasures and needs alike. No such supplies are required unless you wish to send them to her. She will be very well cared for. Alysandir was proud of his fair home, his castle on the River Tay. Anyone would prefer it to this dreary place that clearly needed not just upkeep, but renovation. Aye, he was aching to get his feet back on his own lands.

Isabel had barely stepped into her bath when Gillian burst into her chamber. I shall die here without you, she declared with reddened eyes. Whatever will I do with Papa?

Mary, the buxom lady’s maid who had cared for their mother until her death three years ago, shooed Gillian to the side while she scrubbed Isabel roughly. She held back her protestation because she knew time left was short and she most certainly did not think it best spent lounging in a bath. You won’t die! And think, you will be with your dear Henry shortly. Her head was doused with water and before she could rub her eyes, she was pushed under entirely while her hair was cleaned. Gently, Mary! I would think you wish me gone too soon or that you spare me from marriage by drowning me in my bathwater.

No, child. I was told to have you down as soon as I can and you know how your father can be when he is crossed.

Isabel crosses him constantly, Gillian said aloud.

Aye, but she reminds your father of your dear mother and he doesn’t mind it a bit. Mind you, Isabel that your husband will not take to such behavior when you leave here. Isabel looked at her body beneath the water. Mary noticed and sent Gillian to fetch the special ribbons set aside for this day. When she was gone, Mary stopped pulling at Isabel’s hair. Now listen, child. A husband must…must.

I know he must make an heir with me.

You pretend to know more than you do, little one. A man can make this pleasant, or he can simply do his duty. Either way, you keep your mouth shut the first time and say somethin’ nice about it afore he leaves or falls asleep. Put it in your memory, Isabel.

Say something nice? Like what, Mary? May our heir be strong and happy. Will that do?

No, it won’t. Say that he -. Gillian burst into the room before the words could be passed on and within minutes, she was pulled into her mother’s wedding dress. It was a deep shade of green with golden edging. Her hair was loose and tiny braids were made and carefully knotted together in an intricate design overlaying the rest of her wheat colored hair.

You look so pretty, Isabel, Gillian whispered.

That you do, Mary agreed as she tugged at the bodice. You have your mother’s height already, but it will be a bit longer afore you have her bosoms.

Enough of that, Isabel brushed Mary’s hands away and moved quickly toward the door. Realizing it was the last time she would see her chamber, her bed, and her sister, she turned and fought the tears back knowing it would only create a sobbing fit between Mary and Gillian. I shall miss you both.

Say your goodbyes when you’re leavin’, not now. Mary came and squeezed Isabel tightly and then smoothed her clothing again.

Father Beckett was already before the hearth, which was blazing brightly, and Isabel, after briefly glancing at the groom, set her gaze on the fire to keep her from panicking and running away. Oh, yes, that thought gave her considerable comfort. She could hide out at the monastery until the idea of this marriage was forgotten. If it wasn’t, then she could wait until her sister was wed and live with her at Alnwick. Her sister would never turn her away. Knowing she could never stoop to such cowardice, she felt suddenly uncomfortable and wanted to tug at her bodice. Instead she bit her bottom lip until it was aching and was about to make a dash for the door when Alysandir bent and kissed her briefly. She turned to her father who looked proud and impassive, except for the telltale fists at his side, the care he felt for his daughter balled them up tightly. Then it was her husband pulling her toward the door and she who wanted to keep her feet planted precisely where they were. Instantly she relented, but tugged his sleeve so that she could say goodbye to her family.

Please. My sister’s weeping will drive my father to an early grave if I do not pacify her.

Indeed, he agreed with her. Gillian’s sobs were driving him to distraction. The glance Isabel gave her once positions had been taken lasted until the vow was sealed and blessed. But now the floodgates of heaven had been opened and the girl seemed completely inconsolable. It was silly, really, he thought.

It’s your responsibility to care for Bamborough now, Gillian. You know my routine, but if you wish I will beg Alysandir to allow me to write you a list of your duties. Gillian, you must stop weeping so violently or you will give yourself a headache. There now, she hugged her sister tightly and felt as if weeping had become contagious and she was now infected with the need as well. But she closed her eyes as hard as she could and bit the inside of her cheek to take her mind off of her sadness.

You will be a perfect wife, Gillian sputtered. I love you.

I love you too, Gillian. She moved to her father who simply hugged her as close as he could.

You are your mother’s image, Isabel. You will make me very proud; I just know it. God will care for you, my angel.

I will make you proud, Papa, she whispered

Alysandir has given his permission for you to return for your sister’s wedding. We will see you soon enough.

Is he a kind man, Father?

Richard fought his urge to shout that he had better be. In truth, a man could not attain to Alysandir’s position if he was not a fair and just leader, but ruthless as well. But a good warrior and a good leader do not always make a kind husband.

Now you aren’t afraid, are you Isabel? He knew her response and it was immediate.

I’m not afraid! she declared as her head shot up to meet his eyes. His daughter was a little warrior and he couldn’t be prouder. Alysandir was waiting in the entrance with white flakes of snow attempting to sneak inside beyond his large form. I am not so fond of traveling in this weather, though, she conceded.

It worsens as you tarry, her husband urged. Isabel missed the look her father gave her new husband. She’s safe with me, he countered. His bride looked at her father and then at her husband. Both looked impassive, but her instinct told her otherwise.

Then let us make this journey as quickly as possible, she urged with a smile to her husband.

Her spirit is braver than her body, Laird. Treat her well or the alliance will be for naught. Richard thought to make it the last word and then close the door, but the Scot would not be threatened.

Turning and catching the door as it closed he stood close to Richard and said in a clear and patient voice: She is safe with me. Be it by order of the king or by the order of God, a Scot will not hurt a woman, much less a child. Allay your fears, sir, or I will allay them for you. His tone lightened and he smiled at Richard. Let there be peace between the two of us and our two countries.

So be it. But he could not glance again at his daughter who was mounting her mare and turning her toward the perimeter wall. The Chattan colors were given to her to warm her legs and another cloak wrapped round her to protect her from the searing wind and swirling snow.

Alysandir could not see his bride’s face as the hood of the cloak covered her so well. He wondered if she wept at leaving home. Approaching her mare, he checked the straps of the saddle to make sure she was safe and then touched her leg beneath his tartan to ensure her warmth. She looked down at him then in surprise.

Will you be warm enough riding alone, or do you prefer to ride with me? No, she had not wept.

I am quite alright, thank you, my lord. Which way is home? Now those words did sting her.

He mounted and led her toward his first in command, Edward, who stood unnoticed at the wedding of his liege lord. It was a shame that such a powerful man had to be saddled with a child for a bride when he deserved a worthier match, thought Edward.

Ten men on horseback, all giants to Isabel, departed Bamborough Castle. The wind was whistling too loudly to have any conversation and the pace would have been considered grueling if they were going at a gallop or a walk so cold the wind was. It mattered little to Isabel until they had reached the edge of her father’s land. The border was a frightening place even for a battle stained warrior fully armed. Peace was in its infancy and volatile at best. She comforted herself with the thought that she would be remembered as the trade made to end the deaths of thousands of English and even Scotsmen. She was important for that reason. Marriage could not be so difficult. And an heir? She would simply remember that the first time she would have to tell Alysandir something nice. She would set her mind to thinking of all of the nice things that she could say about her husband. At this point, she barely knew him at all. He was very tall, but was that a compliment? Well, it may be perceived as an insult for a man to be declared little or short, so she put tall on the list of compliments she could offer. Second, he rode his horse very well. Yes, he was very good in the saddle and in no danger of falling off his horse. He seemed to be very strong, but most men were strong. She decided that calling him strong would fall under the neutral category, neither good nor bad, but simply true. His hair was dark and went well with his dark skin, but this was simply an observation and not to any particular point. She remembered his eyes were dark brown and very comforting. Brown eyes fell under compliment category. The scar from the far corner of his brow extending to his ear was a testament of his valor and that too would be a compliment. That was all she could say of her husband at this point.

She kept pace with him, he noticed, and he was not making this ride easy for her. The quicker they arrived, the shorter they would have to be out in this storm. Every time he looked back at her, she looked entirely absorbed in thought. Perhaps she recited her letters or the Bible books, he thought with a smile. What was he to do with a child? He was fortunate she had not fallen off of her horse. Perhaps she was frozen to the saddle. But Richard had told him she was brave, so that merit must be credited her. Instantly he returned his mind back to the imminent concern between the MacPhails and Davidsons. The conflict between them had been ongoing for more generations than he could recall and the spark that ignited the fury this time was Eva MacPherson, a pretty young woman promised in marriage by her father to Roger of the MacPhail clan. On the day of the wedding, Eva disappeared. She was discovered on Davidson land and that was all it took for war to be declared. The MacPhail claimed the Davidson clan stole her away to prevent the long awaited success of the union. The Davidson clan denied it and declared that a distant aunt granted the girl sanctuary because she didn’t want to marry Roger. To make matters worse, the MacPherson were being denied entry onto Davidson land until the matter is resolved. Eva’s father was threatening war if his daughter was not returned to him by week’s end. So instead of heading directly home and settling in his young wife, he would have to journey to Davidson’s laird, Neill and extricate the young woman from his grasp.

Do you know where we are headed Lady Isabel? It was one of the young soldiers that had approached her and broke into her superficial reverie.

I follow my husband, she replied turning to the young man. His cheeks were bright and his hair was the color of sand.

So do we all. Would you like to know where we are headed?

You seem eager to tell me. Where are we going?

Davidson land to prevent a war.

War? There aren’t enough of us to wage war properly.

The young man laughed but it was lost in the wind. You know little of your husband, our Laird. I think he could stop a war with one of his war cries. The opposing side would shrink back in fear before they took one step in advance. A clan rivalry he could settle in a glance. Are you not afraid of him?

He has given me no reason to be afraid.

Has he spoken with you at length?

What do these questions point to? Isabel was exasperated. He clearly wanted something from her and delayed his argument for the sake of winning her trust.

I am Fergus of the MacPherson clan. My mother and I came to this clan after my father died and she married a MacPherson.

I thought Alysandir was your laird and he is laird of the Chattan.

Aye, he is. He leads many clans and has authority over the clan leaders. This is why I seek your assistance. Has he spoken to you about Eva MacPherson?

No.

We are going to fetch her. She was to marry a MacPhail but was in love with another so she ran away to her aunt’s place on Davidson land.

She should do her duty and not start wars, advised Isabel.

That is what I advised, though I hated to do so. I think it broke her heart and that was the last thing in the world I would want to do.

Eva was in love with you? Isabel deduced.

And I with her.

You gave her proper advice. What did she know about love anyway, except that of her family?

Have you such little sympathy for her feelings?

First, Fergus, I do not know her at all, but even if I did I would have to say it is better to do one’s duty than to start a war. People should not die because we cannot control our feelings. Have you discussed this with Alysandir?

No! And that I never would. If he knew I was involved with this, I would be sent home in dishonor. That is why I came to you. I do not think I can be so close to the woman I love and not go to her.

Perhaps you should play sick and go home, Fergus. It would safer.

Lying to my laird would be perhaps even a greater crime.

It seems to me that you do not want an answer, you want an accomplice.

Would you speak with her for me? Tell her I love her, but that she must marry this man MacPhail.

If it falls in the duties my husband gives to me, I will speak with her and give her your words because they are to a proper end.

Thank you, Lady Isabel. Surely you can understand how I feel.

She inclined her head, but had no idea how he felt. She realized she was an infant in these matters, but had never considered it before. Her Papa loved her Mama but that seemed entirely different. Now that she was married, it warranted thought.

Fergus began to smile. This new wife was young but very reasonable and fair. As his laird’s wife he was bound to protect her with his life, but perhaps she was the kind of woman he would want to protect anyway. If she got him his fair Eva, he would owe his life to her and do so without a second thought.

Why do you love her? Isabel decided she was at an impasse in her contemplation.

She is the kindest woman I’ve known in my life. When I met her I thought that God had given me an angel to care for. But her father had promised her in marriage to this man named Roger. I was worried for her because I had known this man and he is cruel. Eva begged him to relinquish his claim on her and he was furious. He killed her dog.

Dear God, does Alysandir know all of this?

He knows that Roger is not trustworthy. He once was in our ranks and was sent home. He flies into rages and cannot be taught. During practice, he would begin sparring but once he was struck, he would scream in rage and run into the fray heedlessly. He was told he was a danger to not just himself but his entire unit. We were glad to see him go.

Why did Eva’s father agree to the union?

This was ages ago and it is to his financial advantage. No one else will marry Roger. His parents are getting desperate for him to carry on the family name. They have no other son.

Do you think Roger waits for Eva near her aunt’s home?

No. The MacPhail are not allowed on Davidson land. It’s an old feud. This is why Eva sought out her aunt there. The feud served for her protection until she could get the laird’s attention. Alysandir does not interfere with every petty dispute, but when war is mentioned, he is forced to intercede.

It would be fair of you to discuss the details of this with him. Tell him you have come to know some of the story behind it and he will listen. Fergus shook his head. She was not familiar with her new laird and his curtness would probably offend her.

They rode on until late in the afternoon and there was only enough time to set up camp before the sky completely darkened. Alysandir came to assist Isabel from her mount and she fairly fell into his arms in exhaustion. After righting herself and shaking out the stiffness in her legs, she went to care for her horse. He went to organize the camp while a fire was set and a little food prepared and when he turned back to her, she was seeing to his horse as well.

Isabel! he called to her in startled voice. My horse is very finicky about strangers. He could injure you. He pulled the reigns from her hand and put himself between them.

He’s fine, she smiled and reached around him to pat the horse’s nose. He knows I mean him no harm. But if you prefer it, I will leave your stallion alone.

I do prefer it. She nodded and headed toward the fire and his stallion began to follow her. You do like her? he spoke softly to his mount. Well, that’s good because we are stuck with her.

The trees blocked the wind and snow, which had for the most part, died down in the past couple of hours. Alysandir pondered the sleeping arrangement with his new bride for less than a second, placing the plaid for her a few feet from his. Close enough for her protection, he reasoned as he laid out the first one; and far enough to not accidentally bed her in his sleep, he thought as he laid out the second. Hell, if he smelled a female in his sleep, he probably wouldn’t even open his eyes before he was finished with her. He looked up and saw Isabel standing beside him offering bread and cheese. As soon as he took it, she laid down on one of the plaids and closed her eyes.

You are not hungry? he was surprised. They had ridden hard that day without stopping surely she would be famished. He certainly was.

No. I’m very tired though. Honestly, her stomach was in knots, torn from her family as she was, going to God knows where.

You ride well, he commented as he sat beside her on her plaid.

Thank you. My father should have told me I was leaving today. I could have prepared better.

He didn’t want to worry you. Besides, you didn’t need to bring anything. We are able to care for you. She raised her brows skeptically and had her eyes been opened, he would have seen her roll them to heaven. You doubt me? he was insulted.

I do not doubt you at all. I just feel that I need to make lists of things I should have brought and ways I could ready myself for this transition.

Yes, lists, Alysandir laughed as he handed her a bit of his bread and cheese. I was told you are fond of such things.

"Such things, she repeated, are necessary for progress. Don’t you agree?"

She hadn’t touched the food he had given her and he noticed. Perhaps she was too upset to eat, he thought. Progress is important. He smiled as she took a bite of bread. What lists do you have?

Now I have none that apply. I had a list of improvements to make on Bamborough’s interior. And a separate list for the exterior, and the perimeter wall needs to be reinforced. The grounds need to be reorganized. Bamborough is clean but disorganized and falling down. Papa was to allow me to learn the accounting practices so I could see what we could afford to renovate.

At your age, I can see why you would need to make lists of such heavy responsibilities. Why did your father not care for such things?

He is grieving, she answered simply.

Grieving what? He handed her more bread and cheese.

My mother’s death, of course.

When was this?

Three years and one month. I hear we are going to the clan Davidson. She turned the conversation abruptly. She hated discussing her mother’s death or her father’s prolonged sadness.

Aye. He took the hint well.

What do you intend to do with Eva?

Give her back to her father.

Won’t he force her to marry Roger?

You seem to have caught up on the gossip. His eyes surveyed the men to see if any appeared more feminine than usual. Are you opposed to the marriage, too? What had she heard, and from whom?

Doing one’s duty is more important than anything. Without that, there would be chaos.

Yes, obedience is of greatest importance.

Not obedience, she spoke freely, loyalty.

They are the same, he shrugged.

Indeed not. One can obey another without feeling loyalty. But loyalty makes one want to obey.

The results are the same, child. One does as one is told.

One ought, but may not have the desire.

You are being contrary, he glowered.

I am sorry, my lord. She instantly put down her bit of bread and cheese and looked at her hands. I promised to always obey you. I will always be obedient.

Very good, he muttered.

Don’t you want me to tell you I will always be loyal to you as well?

No.

May I go to sleep? she was exasperated and too tired to argue. She shouldn’t be arguing anyway.

Aye.

Thank you for taking care of me, she whispered as he stood. She was asleep before he could respond.

What will you do with her? Edward, his first in command asked.

My duty, Alysandir responded without any emotion. It seemed to be Isabel’s favorite word. Even Edward who had served by his side could not tell if those words were spoken in grief or in pride.

Fergus has taken a fondness to her, he probed.

So has my horse.

She hasn’t wept or even turned her head back toward England. I think that is a good sign for you.

Alysandir was thinking of other topics. Fergus you say? It must have been him that has been discussing the purpose of our visit to Neill. Bring him to me. In a silent moment the young man came forward. He had seen Lady Isabel speak with his laird, but felt the discussion too short to involve him at all. What have you told Isabel about Eva?

She was to marry but fled on the day of her wedding.

Did she give you her thoughts on this matter? Of course she did. What did she say?

That Eva should do her duty and not start wars. Her words exactly, my lord.

She did not question the character of her betrothed?

I volunteered it.

Had she changed her mind once she heard this? She certainly played the devil’s advocate with him.

It seemed a foreign thought to her, Fergus supplied having pondered the same questions from Lady Isabel’s response to him.

What did?

Matters of the heart. Duty was her first and only thought. Do you think she-, but he stopped his own thoughts from spilling out of his mouth.

That she should counsel young Eva to do her duty? Perhaps it would be wise for her to convince Eva to return willingly while I wrest her from Neill’s grip diplomatically.

Women, Edward spoke from the other side of the fire, always start more wars.

A valid point, Edward. But Isabel is not a woman.

‘From the mouths of babes,’ is that what you think, Alysandir?

She shall have the chance to prove herself to us, he decided. God knows she is stubborn even with me. In a mate it would have been admirable, but in a child, it was unruly. As she was both, he did not know what to make of it.

It was a few minutes before dawn when Isabel awoke shivering a little. One of the soldiers watched her as she rose and moved to clean up before their journey continued. She liked to have her quiet time before everyone was up. She would be prepared for the flurry of activity. Alysandir had one hand on her ankle for reasons beyond her, but when she shook him off he woke instantly.

Are you alright, are you too cold? he asked quietly.

I’m fine, go back to sleep. She would say this every morning to her sister and it felt like a nice perpetuation of a tradition. Isabel didn’t stick around to find out if he got up or not and when she came back to the clearing everyone was up and breakfasting. Isabel went to her mount not wanting to interrupt the men in their conversation. She spoke to her mount gently and then felt a nudge at the small of her back. Turning, she realized it was Alysandir’s stallion asking for attention, which she then generously gave. He was a beautiful horse, black and powerful, his muscles tensing before he threw back his head. Calming him with coos and deliberate massaging, she wished she could mount him and would have if she hadn’t been told to leave him alone.

Look at Lady Isabel, Dylan nodded to his laird. I’ve never seen anyone that could get near your horse before. The girl knows how to calm him, he even sought her out.

I told her not to go near him, Alysandir said as he stood and made his way to her. He watched her move back to her own mare when she saw him approach. He was about to raise his voice to her when she stepped out from behind the horses and smiled at him so sincerely.

May I mount him, Alysandir? Was it her eyes or her smile that won him over like a child one cannot refuse?

Come here, he conceded. He lifted her easily and could tell she neither needed nor wanted his assistance. Are you afraid?

She laughed outright, loving the restless movements the stallion made as if he was now ready to run loose. And if her excitement was contagious, he would begin to do so. Alysandir held the reigns close to the bit when she beamed down at him and said: I am not afraid. She patted the horse’s side gently and looked out aching to squeeze her legs together and urge him into a gallop. You had better order me off of him before I am a speck in the distance shouting: ‘Race you home.’

Alysandir laughed. You are so light I think Rampage barely notices you on him. Off with you, now. Go have some breakfast, child. We will leave in a few minutes.

Dylan gave her some breakfast but she took it back to her mare and packed it away. She hummed a little song and would have begun its chorus lustily if soldiers whose respect she had to earn didn’t surround her. She needs to be coaxed into eating each meal, it appears, Dylan said to his laird.

It shows how nervous she really is. Still, she is wiser than her years and it is to be remembered that she is just a child.

As awkward as she appears to be now, it can be seen that she will be breathtaking when she grows older, Dylan offered.

It was cold comfort to Alysandir now, however. But he nodded and kept those thoughts to himself. After all, he had a mistress who would care for his needs. His father’s promiscuity resulted in half a dozen bastard brothers for Alysandir to defeat before he could rightfully claim his position as clan leader. He was the only one who had earned it, but that never stopped a usurper before and would not in the future. The lesson he learned was to guard his seed and such must be the case for a few more years before Isabel could give him an heir. Aye, it was harder to enjoy life that way, but it would not do for him to behave otherwise. These thoughts and the resolving of the MacPhail and Davidson dilemma consumed his thoughts for the entire day’s journey. They rode much harder since they were on friendly land and the weather had cleared considerably.

Edward’s horse came to a canter beside Rampage. Lady Isabel looks exhausted, he stated. The details were for his laird to worry about. Immediately he reigned in his stallion until Isabel had caught up with him.

She looked very tired, but smiled warmly at him when she drew near. Most of her day had been spent calculating the price of an indulgence compared with the price of various supplies required to renovate Bamborough. The relevance was unimportant, but it would perhaps give her an idea of the cost of such things. It was a perplexing task without paper to add such things together. The numbers were staggering to the point that she wondered how anyone ever afforded to build a castle and keep and wall and abbey and… In addition, who would build these things? She could not do it alone. Well, she wasn’t tall enough to stack things as high as the sky, nor was she strong enough to do so even if she had been so tall. Perhaps if she were as tall as the clouds, the sheer size of her muscles would easily compensate for the weight of the stones. Good lord how her mind wandered. Back to task, Isabel. The townspeople were busy with the crops and sheering the sheep and weaving so beautifully, they would not have time to drag large stones about. Does one hire men to do such things? If so, how much would one pay each person and how many workers would one need? Henry would know. His castle was very grand. Isabel had always thought Henry an odd man, even superstitious. He always spoke of Alnwick keeping some evil locked in the earth. Isabel figured God would make sure the Devil stayed in Hell and such was of no concern to flesh and blood. She shuddered imagining that the Devil could escape into Alnwick and chase her sister about its walls. It was for the best she had married Alysandir and not run away to the monastery and then to Henry.

You look rather tired out, Isabel. Would you like to stop for a while to rest? Alysandir asked.

She shook her head no. Are you a superstitious man, my lord?

Not particularly. Why? Have we offended some god or other? A smile played on his lips, hesitating lest he offend her.

No, indeed! Henry is superstitious and I wondered if there was any merit to his concerns. If there is, then my sister is in danger. If there is not, does that make Henry a little mad, do you suppose?

Your sister is safe, he pacified not wanting to begin a debate about God and religion. God will care for her just as he cares for you.

Quite nearly my father’s words. I seem to take matters into my own hands. Father Beckett has had me do penance more than once for my pride. Among other things… she grumbled. I noticed this morning that my father packed a bagful of coins to buy indulgences. There are so many, he must think my soul in grave danger. What do you think?

I think you should not proclaim that you carry a bagful of coins again, he reproved. So Henry’s superstition has consumed your thoughts today?

She laughed outright. Lord, no. That just occurred to me. I was calculating the cost of rebuilding Bamborough. I either need to get better with my multiplication or I need more writing supplies.

Fortunately you will not need to worry about the renovation of your father’s home. You have a new one, and it’s quite lovely. I am very proud of it.

I am excited to see it, but I’ll never rest until I calculate the expense entirely. Does that offend you?

No lass, it doesn’t. It would offend me if you lied and denied that you are tired if you are.

I’m not lying to you, my lord. However, what if I became aware of something that you did not know, should I tell you or would it be a lie to withhold the information?

He couldn’t possibly imagine what she could know that he did not. Must he hear every curiosity she learned? No human on earth would have time for that, he imagined. No, was his simple response.

Isabel exhaled, visibly relieved. Fergus was on his own and she was glad to not cross her husband so soon after her vows to please and obey him. She took the breakfast Dylan had given her out of the pouch beside her and began to eat. Alysandir noticed she had not eaten lunch either; it was tucked into the depths of her pouch too.

You will eat with the rest of us from now on. This habit of yours does displease me greatly. His order had the opposite effect. Her stomach knotted with anxiety and she could barely put the bread to her mouth. I will have your obedience, child, he commanded as he urged his mount forward to take the lead again but slowed to speak with Fergus as he made his way ahead. Make sure she eats, Fergus. You seem to ease her anxiety; perhaps it is your youth. Fall back to her.

He obeyed and brought his horse alongside hers. She lost her appetite altogether. It was this very issue that had caused her such anxiety to begin with and now he was to be her companion until they reached Davidson’s land. Eva was all he could discuss and perhaps that made her ill too. How could she multiply the number of stones a man would carry per day with the number she would need to rebuild Bamborough when Fergus distracted her with accounts of the great beauty of his love? She felt that by the time they reached another priest, she would have spent all of her money on the indulgences she’d have to buy for the vile curses she muttered each time he made her lose count of stones and men. Isabel doubted she could take many more days of this, but endure she did.

As devout as her intentions were to find a priest immediately, they went unfulfilled. Neill and his men greeted Alysandir at the border and gruff exchanges were made between them. Isabel could not see them for the Chattan soldiers had encircled her.

I will not return the girl to the MacPhail. I know it is her you seek. Neill kept his gaze on Alysandir but was aching to find out whom they were hiding in that tight circle.

It is wise of you to ensure her protection, Alysandir complimented. I have no wish to force you to do anything, only to mediate an agreement. In truth, he wanted to knock the laird from his horse and considered how easy it would be to do so. Alas, peace among the clans could not be kept with that behavior. I have come also to present my new bride. The Chattan soldiers parted and Isabel cued her gentle smile and nodded toward the laird, but the soldiers closed in on her before further pleasantries could be exchanged.

She’s English, was the rough expression of the leader of the Davidson.

Aye. And our lands are at peace now. She is my wife and will be respected as such.

We cannot tolerate an Englishwoman on our lands. The Davidson men growled.

I will not come to blows with you about the MacPherson girl, but such is not the case with the matter of my bride. Alysandir brought his mount closer to Neill’s and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. His face had darkened menacingly and his muscles tensed. He was glad Isabel did not understand their language or she would have taken off in fear.

Our laird’s wife will have our fealty, Neill declared loudly, bringing order to his men. Never would he go to battle with the great warrior before him. He had seen with his