by Eliza Knight
It was the first of May, and already she could hear the giggles from the bailey. The maidens who had gathered there were preparing for when the gates would open so they could flood out into the fields to roll in the dewy grasses.
And Blair was going to be among them.
It was reckless and went way beyond the comfortable walls she’d built up around herself, but after speaking with Cora, she realized it was harmless. And if she was going to make her parents see she was beyond childhood and ready to create a life for herself, perhaps this was a good step in getting there.
She still didn’t believe a word of what Cora had said about standing out from her cousins as a contender amongst men. The Englishwoman was touched in the head if she thought Blair had anything on the fairy-like beauty of her cousins. But perhaps she’d end up taking a few lads by surprise. Not that she planned on having her parents pursue any of them in a marriage contract.
Blair swung back the covers and pressed her feet to the floor, ignoring the instant chill at the disappearance of her comfortable cocoon. She was already in her night rail, so there was no reason to change, but she did take her hair out of its braid, letting her long, wavy locks wrap around her shoulders and back like a dark cloak. She might be willing to roll around in the dew without a stitch on but her thin night rail, but at least her long hair would serve as a form of barrier to prying eyes, no matter how minimal, and perhaps afford her some warmth.
A lass had to have some standards.
Blair ran her fingers through her hair, splashed some cold water on her face and then tiptoed toward her door, not wanting to alert anyone that she was about. The last thing she wanted was for Aurora and Aislinn to come out of nowhere and pluck at her like she was a bairn and give her a reason to change her mind. They were the exact same age as she was and always had the ability to make her feel ten years younger. Well, not this morning. Today, she was going to start to live the way she wanted to be seen—like a woman. And she wasn’t going to let anyone spoil this momentous moment for her.
The corridor was empty, but the noises from the great hall floated up the stairs. Even more lassies were gathering there, and she could hear Aurora’s distinct tinkling laugh. Flirting with some guard, no doubt.
Blair hurried to the stairs, not wanting to be left behind. She reached the level below and was just about to step down onto the next flight when her mother’s voice stilled her.
“Blair?” She sounded shocked, but also mildly pleased?
Blair swirled on the stairs, catching her hand against the stones before she tumbled down, and saw her mother, fully dressed, coming out of her chamber and onto the landing. Her eyes were wide with worry, perhaps looking for an injury that must have caused Blair to venture from her room.
“Mama.” Blair flashed her mother a smile, hoping to ease her obvious worry.
Lady Arbella scanned Blair from head to toe, a small smile on her lips when she spotted no damage. “You’re going out to the fields?” Though it was posed as a question, it also sounded like there was a bit of wonder at the realization.
“Aye. I am.”
Her mother nodded once and reached forward to tuck a lock of hair behind Blair’s ear. “What changed your mind?”
Blair bit her lip, shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal that in all the years she’d been allowed to participate, she never had until now.
“Where is your crown?”
Blair pulled the ring of bluebells from behind her back and waved it before her in what she hoped was a nonchalant gesture.
“’Tis beautiful, darling. May I?”
Blair nodded, and her mother took the bluebell crown in her slim-fingered, graceful grasp. She lifted it and gently placed it on Blair’s head, stroking her cheek as she did so.
“The flowers bring out the blue of your eyes.”
Blair felt the heat rise to her face as she murmured her thanks. That was exactly what she’d hoped.
“Well, you’d best get going, my darling, else the rest of the maidens soak up all of the dew and leave none behind for you.”
Blair laughed, imagining that her mother meant lads rather than dew, and her cousins rather than maidens. For she was certain that Aurora and Aislinn would have no problem in surrounding themselves with adoring and ogling beaus.
Whether or not Blair gained the attention of the lads, she was determined to enjoy herself and the freedom she was almost certain would wind its way over her limbs the moment she stepped outside and sank her bare toes into the earth. But she should let her mother know she was not interested in any of those in attendance, lest her parents take it upon themselves to find her a mate amongst them.
“I’m not wishing for any prospects here, Mama.”
“But you are wishing for one.”
Blair chewed the inside of her cheek and nodded. “I am.”
“It’s hard for me to see you for the woman you are.” She smiled nostalgically. “You were my last babe, and I can still vividly see you curled in the crook of my arm, sleeping softly or cooing.”
Blair leaned forward, wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist and dragged in a long breath of her comforting scent. “Those memories will never fade, Mama. And they are ones I hope to create someday with a bairn of my own.” Blair pulled back. “I’m ready.”
Tears sparkled in her mother’s eyes, catching the light of a nearby torch. “Well, then we’d best not keep the magic of our celebration waiting.”
Blair thrust herself into her mother’s arms once more and held her tight. “I love ye, Mama.”
“I love you, too, my sweet lass.”
Blair breathed in the familiar floral aroma of her mother, a scent that always calmed her and made her think of warmth and safety. One day, hopefully soon, she’d provide this same comfort for a bairn of her own.
At last, she pulled away, grinned to herself and then rushed the rest of the way down the stairs, feeling even lighter than when she’d woken. She’d not expected to have her mother’s blessing. To have it was incredible, though she supposed her mother never would have said nay. She’d allowed Bella and Greer to participate in the celebrations, so why wouldn’t she have allowed Blair?
In the great hall, she was met by a few shocked faces, but most surprised was her brother Liam, who knew well how much she had resisted the tradition over the years.
He approached her with a teasing grin on his lips. “What do we have here?”
Blair playfully swatted him, which he dodged. Then he whirled, taking in the few guards around the room.
“Who is he? Which one? Tell me, and I’ll cut his heart out.”
Blair rolled her eyes. “As I told Mama, the man I seek is not present. Ye’ll only be wasting energy trying to sift through your men.”
Liam looked skeptical. “Then where is he, missing out on this spectacular miracle of Blair Sutherland coming out of her shell?”
“He may not exist at all.” Blair widened her eyes and pursed her lips to keep from smiling as she said it. Goodness, where had this teasing lass come from? She’d not even gotten a chance to dance in the dew, and already she was acting bolder, freer. “But if the magic of rolling in morning dew is to summon him, I’d say he’ll be walking through your gates any day now.”
“Ye wish, sprite.” Liam tugged on a dark tendril, not hard enough to hurt, and winked. “Be careful out there.” He slanted a glance toward their cousins.
“’Tis not I that needs to worry, brother, but the lads, I should think. I’m fairly certain the lassies in question dinna give a fig for their reputation.”
Liam chuckled. “Ah, there she is, the wee sister I know well.”
Blair rolled her eyes again. “I may have come down to participate in a ritual that is probably improper at best, but that doesna mean I have to give up all semblance of propriety.”
“Perhaps ye should offer lessons.”
Blair snorted at that. “I dinna think lessons will help those two.”
As if on cue, her
cousins let out loud squeals and rushed toward the main vestibule of the castle. “The sun is rising,” one of them screeched.
“Time to offer ourselves up to the fairies,” called the other, both of their voices so similar it was hard to discern who said what.
The great doors were wrenched open, and burgeoning sunlight filtered through, and with it a gust of spring morning wind. Gooseflesh instantly rose on Blair’s skin, and she regretted her decision to go outside and roll around on the cold earth. A warm bath or climbing beneath a mountain of covers sounded oh so much better. Perhaps this new side of her that was testing the waters shouldn’t include bodily harm, for surely freezing to death constituted such, did it not?
She glanced about the bailey for her lamb but did not see her. The stable lads must have been sure to keep her in her pen for the chaos that was about to ensue.
“Coming?” Liam teased, Cora grinned beside him, her eyes bright with love when she turned them on Blair’s brother.
“Thinking about going back to bed,” Blair murmured with a small smile.
“Too late, wee sister. I’m waiting to see who your mystery lover is.” Liam teased, essentially saying he believed not one word she’d said.
Blair stuck out her tongue. “I’ve no lover, Liam.” She glanced around quickly, suddenly weary of her reputation. “If anyone were to hear ye say such—”
But Liam cut her off with a loud chortle. “Relax, Princess. Your reputation is intact.”
Blair huffed and hurried past him out into the dawn morning. She was wound up so tight, her spine was in danger of snapping. The stone steps of the keep were freezing against her bare toes, as was the wet bailey ground. Soft earth squished between her toes, and she stared down in awe, realizing it had been ages since she’d walked barefoot outside. Probably not since before her age was in the double digits.
The lassies ahead of her were running now, the wide gates yawning open and the fields in partial view from across the bridge. Pipers played a haunting lilt that rolled over her skin, drawing on her emotions. It always amazed her how the sound of the bagpipes and the various songs and rhythms could bring her feelings of joy, love, longing and sadness.
Excitement replaced some of the anxiety in her veins. With a smile on her face, Blair rushed through the gates to the fields, joining the other lassies who held hands and swung in circles, dew covering their bare feet and slicking up over their ankles to their calves.
Gooseflesh prickled up over her legs, and Blair’s body shuddered. She rubbed at her arms, finding her toes curling in, seeking warmth.
“Ye can go back inside,” Cora whispered. “Dinna fret, sister.”
But Blair had made the choice to do this. To experience the unadulterated joy the other lassies, including her sisters, and maybe even her mother, had experienced. A rite of passage. By coming out here, she’d told her mother she was ready to take the next step as a woman and marry. If she retreated now and went inside seeking warmth, what would that say?
The other lassies seemed to have forgotten all about the cold now, thinking only of joy and how much fun it was to dance nearly nude in a field of flowers. Blair looked on them with acute envy, once more considering giving up. She had no one to dance with. No beau she wanted to impress. Perhaps this idea had been foolish and naïve of her after all. Not participating would in no way cause her parents to think anything about her, other than she’d come to her senses. Which was perhaps the biggest motivating factor for her to drop to her knees, the first of any of the lassies, and begin rolling in the morning dew.
The spontaneity of her actions swept a thrill through her veins. She swiped the dew over her fingers, rubbed it over her face, her lips, and then lay down and stared up at the sky as it turned from pink and orange to blue. She didn’t roll anymore, just stared in awe.
There was a tiny part of her that regretted not having indulged in this hedonistic sport before. But the larger part of her heart was grateful. Experiencing it now, for the first time, when she’d been ready to call it quits, she had a different respect for it, a heavier appreciation, and perhaps even more enjoyment over it.
As she stared up at the sky that seemed to fight the sun for purchase, the ground beneath her rumbled, and she had the sudden wonder if the earth was laughing at her joy, or maybe the fairies were all stomping their feet, proud to have a newly converted maiden to play with.
But the rumbling continued, and the murmurs of the lassies around her grew concerned, as did that of the guards who were now shouting, pulling her completely out of her dreamlike state.
Blair sat up to see her brother’s men running, grasping at lassies’ arms. Liam had Cora’s hand and was racing toward the gate, when he looked over his shoulder, eyes meeting hers where she still sat on the ground, confused. What was happening?
He motioned for her to get up, his shout lost in the chaos. Then he was pushing Cora into the arms of another warrior and turning to race toward her, shouting. Blair turned from him as the rumbling grew louder from the opposite direction. There she saw the answer to her question. Coming out of the horizon as though they were bred by the morning sun were several dozen warriors riding with the wind.
They were headed toward the castle, the newly risen sun sparkling off the weapons strapped to their bodies. She stared, both struck by their might, and in shock at seeing them at all.
Warriors.
Were they under attack?
They were not bellowing war cries, and neither were their weapons drawn in a warning. But they were mighty all the same.
All the warmth that had been in Blair’s blood suddenly dissipated, and she scrambled to her bare feet, her gaze riveted on the bodies slowly growing closer. Who were they and why had they come? Ross men intent on taking their castle back? Boldly, she stared them down, willing them to turn back. Never would her brother surrender, and never would she want him too. A sense of rage and boldness enveloped her. Give her a sword, and she would raise it.
“Blair!” Liam’s bellow cut through her courage, and she turned away from the advancing legion, recalling all too vividly that she stood there practically nude.
Coming to her senses, she started to run for her brother, who was cursing up a storm.
The guards had their weapons drawn, forming a line in the grasses as they urged the lassies to get behind them and to hurry back to the castle. Should the riders turn out to be enemies, they would reach the guards first. Her brother wasn’t wearing his sword and held only a dirk in his hand—a misstep she was certain he would berate himself over for days to come.
Archers were already knocking their bows upon the walls, prepared to let them fly as soon as they were given the go-ahead.
Blair ran as fast as she could, feeling as though the quicker she went, the more distance was put between her and where she needed to go. And then she was with her brother. He grasped her arm and pulled her along, shouting words she couldn’t understand, because all she could hear was the pounding of her heart, staccatoed by the horses behind her.
As soon as her feet hit the wood of the bridge, the guards on the wall bellowed for the men on horseback to halt.
They bellowed the order again and again, their voices rising with urgency, and then she, the last of the maidens over the bridge, fell to her knees in the muck of the bailey, panting, feeling as though she might throw up. Warriors scrambled to cross behind her, and her brother lifted her, tugging her out of the way.
The portcullis chains cranked as it was lowered, and then the gates were slammed shut, a bar as thick as a tree trunk placed in the iron braces to keep the enemy out.
It had not yet been confirmed whether the men outside their gates were enemies, only that they were advancing on them with enough weapons strapped to their bodies to be bloody. They were unannounced, and apparently unrecognized, which suggested they were indeed enemies prepared to lay siege.
“Are ye all right?” Liam asked, his concerned gaze searching her face.
Blair only
had enough time to nod before a man’s voice could be heard from the other side of the wall.
“Sutherland!” The bellow was filled with rage and sent a cold tremor of fear racing over Blair’s skin and up her spine.
One thing was for certain, this did not seem to be a social call.
Beside her, Liam stiffened, met her fearful gaze and said, “Go inside the keep with the other women.”
Blair swallowed hard, nodded and started to walk toward the keep steps when the next words she heard stopped her in her tracks, one foot still slightly raised in the air until she thunked it hard on the bailey ground.
“Show me the lass called Blair the Not So Fair!”
What? Nay… It couldn’t be… She’d burned that missive! Watched wide-eyed as it caught flames and disintegrated into ash. The bottle she’d thrown out to sea had been empty. So how in Hades was a man standing on the other side of the gate bellowing the made-up name she’d penned and then burned? Her gaze bore through the keep door, willing Aurora to come out and explain. Her cousin could be the only reason this was happening. And yet not all the blame lay at her wayward cousin’s feet. For it had been Blair who’d written it in the first place.
All the blood rushed from her face, pooling somewhere down on the ground. And now war was upon them, just as she’d suspected when she’d jestingly scribbled the words on parchment.
“Blair?” Liam murmured behind her, his tone guttural.
She turned slowly to face her brother, feeling faint as his questioning eyes met hers. He would think she’d betrayed him. She had betrayed him. Even if it was unknowingly.
“This is all my fault,” she muttered, staggering backward, her heel catching on the stone steps. She fell hard, her bottom pounding against the edge of a stair as she slid down onto the stone. The fall was jarring, but not nearly as jarring as having heard her words tossed over the walls of Ross Castle by an enemy warrior.
Liam stared at her; horror written on his face. Confusion mixed with horror as he shook his head. “I dinna understand. What did ye do?”