by Mia Pride
“Aye, I ken,” Mary replied, stepping away when the dress grew slack enough for Elizabeth to step out of it herself, most gladly. This was an unforeseen situation and between having to marry a man she did not know and being bathed by the woman she supposed love him, Elizabeth was ready for a dram of whisky, or four.
She needed answers and to break this tension. They were grown women. There was no need for such floundering. “How long have ye lived at Drum, Mary?”
“My entire life,” she responded, turning her back to test the water.
“Do ye ken Alexander well?” Was that question too bold? When Mary stood up straight and stiffened, her shoulders becoming rigid, Mary grimaced.
“Aye. I do.”
“I see,” Elizabeth murmured, removing her under tunic and quickly stepping in the bath while Mary was still avoiding eye contact. The water sloshed over the rim and burned her arse, making Elizabeth hiss from the pain.
“Is it too hot, my lady? I can fetch some cool water.” Mary nearly bolted for the door like a mouse escaping a cat, but Elizabeth shook her head. “Nay, ’tis perfect,” she forced, despite her scalding flesh. “And my name is Elizabeth, or even Lizzie, if ye prefer.”
Nodding, Mary got down on her knees, lathering the soap against a linen cloth, her hand shaking as she placed it on Elizabeth’s arm.
“Can ye tell me a wee bit about the castle?” Elizabeth persisted, feeling like a fool with every word, yet determined to get through this rather peculiar ordeal.
Mary stopped scrubbing and looked at the door with a frown. “I… I just realized that I forget something…”
Elizabeth looked at the bed and saw a fresh linen ready to be used once she needed to be dried off. Nothing was missing as far as she could determine. “What have ye forgotten?” she asked, but Mary was already on her feet, tears welling up in her eyes just before she looked away once more. Oh, bollocks. This was not going well and more than anything, it solidified her believe that this bonnie woman meant a great deal to her future husband.
“Just… uh…” Mary wrung her wet hands into her faded blue dress before trying to wipe away more tears without notice. “The lavender oil… to… scent yer water.” Mary rushed toward the door and Elizabeth cringed, feeling an ache in her heart for this woman.
“Truly, ’tis not nec—” Mary was out the door, slamming it behind her, and Elizabeth stood in the tub so fast, she nearly slipped. Curse it all! She was getting out of this bath and dressing herself before this torture had to continue for either of them, and curse that dolt, Robert Irvine, for not simply allowing Tilda to do the task!
Chapter Three
“Is it customary at Drum Castle to have the laird’s mistress bathe his bride?” Robert choked on his wine and grabbed his linen napkin to wipe away the red juice dripping down his chin. Elizabeth pursed her lips to stifle a giggle.
Harps and flutes played in the background as minstrels sang before the hearth, but suddenly they were not the most amusing thing in the room. “Pardon?” he asked and looked her in the eyes for the first time all evening. She had shared a trencher with Alexander and conversation had felt easy enough, but she had not missed his wandering gaze continually landing on Mary sitting at another trestle table looking miserable. Elizabeth didn’t miss it either, and her heart ached for the two, though she knew not what could be done.
A man wearing the Irvine plaid had approached Alexander not long ago and he kindly excused himself and disappeared up the stairs of the tower, no doubt to his solar. Left alone at the head table still wearing her black demask dress from Thomas’ funeral earlier, she decided to try to make conversation with Robert, but apparently lacked the skill of subtlety.
“When I arrived with my kin, the courtyard was rife with wary faces, but one face was devastated, tears streaming down her face. When I looked at her, she looked away and ran off. I was aware of the situation at that moment. But when she came to bathe me this evening, well… that was an unpleasant experience for us both, I must say. And now I see Alexander was staring at her during the meal.”
Scratching his short beard, Robert struggled to come up with a response, but Elizabeth decided to spare the man. “’Tis all right. I understand this was an unexpected arrangement. I have nay illusions of love and expect this to be a marriage of convenience for our clans.” She truly was not hurt or jealous. It was just as well if her husband had another lass to occupy him so she could see to her duties around the keep.
Clearing his throat, Robert tugged on the neck of his tunic and surcoat. “Are ye enjoying Drum thus far, my lady?” Elizabeth smiled and looked down at the remains of her pheasant meal just before a young lass came to take it away. Clearly Robert did not wish to discuss the situation, and she supposed that was well enough.
“Indeed, I am,” she said with a proper nod and her hands folded daintily in her lap, deciding that she should attempt to remain ladylike, though it was always a struggle. Grace and decorum did not come easy to her. “Yer father’s ceremony was beautiful, as is yer chapel.”
“My thanks. He is greatly missed. He was a good man, ye ken.”
“Aye, I ken,” she agreed with a nod. Robert was easy to talk to and polite, even if she got the sense he felt trapped into conversing with her since Alex had departed the table. Twiddling her thumbs under the table, Elizabeth looked away from Robert and scanned the great hall for Matilda. She just needed to see one friendly face, even though the room was filled with her kin as well as her future kin. At some point, her brother had disappeared, and Elizabeth wondered where he may have gone off to.
Feeling out of place and suddenly lonely for home, Elizabeth clutched her rosary and continued to glance around her surroundings, wondering how she should proceed. Without Alex, was it rude to stand up and walk away from the head table? If she spoke too frequently with Robert, the clan would accuse her of poor character, accuse her of interest in the wrong brother, even though the one she was betrothed to gave her the least amount of attention he could without being overtly insulting to their arrangement. She would not care, except for the fact that she now felt abandoned and embarrassed in from of all her kin, new and old.
“Lady Elizabeth,” she heard Alexander say from beside her and both relief and dread filled her at once. Looking up into his light blue gaze, she was startled to see such a serious expression on his face. “I apologize for having been pulled away.”
“Ye are Laird of Drum. I suspect an important issue shall take yer attention now and again.” She smiled and tried to look calm, but she was tired from the day’s travels, followed by a funeral, followed by this feast. Sleep and time alone to manage her whirling thoughts were all she wanted at the moment. “Mayhap I may be excused to my bedchamber and be readied for bed? I am quite tired. The feast was wonderful and I thank ye for accommodating my kin.”
Nodding stiffly, Alexander scanned the room before looking at her once more. “We are allies now and I am glad of it. Yer kin is always welcome, Elizabeth. Matilda has already gone up the stairs to ready yer chamber and light a fire. I do hope ye enjoy yer night in yer new chamber and rest well, my lady. In fact, I have need of Robert in my solar just now.”
Glancing over to Robert, she felt the air shift between them, like something dreadful was on the rise. Scotland had been a tumultuous place since their young King James had been kidnapped by the English some years ago and his power-hungry uncle became regent, often siding with the English and Highland clans for more power and land. Too many times she had seen similar looks upon her brother’s face and it generally meant trouble was brewing.
“I do hope all is well?” she asked and stood from her seat, looking between the brothers.
“It shall be, aye. Care for me to see ye to yer chambers?” Alexander asked and gently took her hand. It was the first bit of affection he had shown her since her arrival and though she knew he meant it only in an amicable way, it helped to make her feel less intrusive and more accepted. Alexander understood that none of t
his was her doing, just as it was not his. Mayhap she was not alone, after all.
“Nay, I can see ye have pressing matters. I thank ye once again. I shall see myself to my room.”
“Verra well, have a good night, Elizabeth,” Alexander said and spun on his heels, heading for the stairs with steps three times her stride. She stared as he sped off urgently, knowing something was amiss. There was never rest from trouble it seemed.
“I must go, as well. Enjoy yer night.” Robert bowed and stormed off after his brother.
Standing by herself, Elizabeth began to slowly walk toward the stairs before an idea struck her. She was alone for the first time all day. She did not need to return to her chambers right away. Mayhap she should give herself a tour of the kitchens and the rest of the keep before retiring. Besides, her legs could use some movement and her arse was quite sore after sitting in a saddle all day and sitting on hard benches all night.
Deciding she would take just a wee stroll, knowing Matilda would be up waiting for her, Elizabeth slipped past the screen separating the great hall from the kitchen area, glad to be away from the music that had begun to give her a headache. Fresh rushes crushed beneath her leather slippers just before entering the bustling kitchen as woman scrubbed pots and plates. One woman in particular shouted commands at the other ladies while she swept the floors. Not wanting to be a burden and deciding she would take a moment to meet more of the staff on the morrow during a less busy time, Elizabeth turned and stepped back around the screen, when she collided with another body. Grunting, Elizabeth almost fell to the floor before managing to grip on to the wall to steady herself.
“Och, I am so sorry,” Elizabeth squealed, looking up and then faltering once more. Of the several dozen people occupying this hall, why did she have to run into this person? “Mary, correct?”
The red-haired woman nodded and huffed out a deep breath, closing her eyes and pursing her lips. “My apologies, my lady.” Bobbing her head, she attempted to move around Elizabeth, but she stepped in Mary’s way, blocking the path.
“Wait.”
Stopping in her tracks, Mary stopped but stared straight ahead, stiff as a board. “What is it, my lady?”
“My name is Elizabeth and I am not the Lady of Drum just yet.” That made Mary flinch and, more than ever, Elizabeth was certain of her instincts. “Ye dinnae care much for me, do ye?” Her voice stayed low and calm, hoping to discuss the situation with the woman.
“I dinnae ken ye, so how can I like or dislike ye?” Mary began to walk off again, but Elizabeth gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Please. Just let me go,” Mary begged so quietly that Elizabeth almost missed it.
“This marriage is for peace. Not for love,” Elizabeth whispered back.
Turning to face Elizabeth, Mary attempted to wipe the tears running down her cheeks and Elizabeth frowned. The woman was heartbroken, and it made her feel sick to her belly to cause someone such pain.
“Why ye marry isnae my concern, my lady.”
“Aye, I think it is though, is it not?” Elizabeth crooked a knowing brow and gave a reassuring smile. “I may be a Keith, but I assure ye I’m not addled in the brain. I can see ye are in love with Alexander.” Mary gasped and clutched her breast, turning white with horror and shaking her head.
“That… that is untrue. I… I—”
“And, he is in love with ye, as well.” Elizabeth added. “It is as obvious as the black death upon one’s face.”
Sighing and hunching her shoulders, Mary nodded. “I understand why ye must marry. I cannae interfere with peace. T’was not so long ago my grandfather was killed in a battle between our clans. I shall live in misery every day of my life if it means yer marriage ends the bloodshed.”
“I feel the same way. We women are just pawns, are we not? We do as we must to survive and to help our people. Ye and I arenae so different. I am simply the one in a position to end this war, and I am terribly sorry it is at the cost of yer happiness. I want ye to ken that.” Elizabeth gripped Mary’s hand and, for the first time, Mary looked her in the eyes and smiled slightly, before swallowing hard.
“Ye are a bonnie lass. I had hoped ye had warts on yer nose, if I may be honest.”
Elizabeth laughed heartily at that and tilted her head back. “Mary, ye are as bonnie as I, if not more so. He is in love with ye, not me. Dinnae forget that. He pays me the necessary attention to not offend my brother or my kin, but he stares at ye the entire time, afraid to upset ye.”
“Alexander is a good man. He will treat ye well.”
“Aye, I ken that. I do hope ye and I can be friends. Truly.”
Mary seemed to hesitate for a moment before blowing out a lungful of air and slouching. “Aye, I would like that, as well. I thank ye for speaking to me. Since the day he told me he had to fulfill the marriage contract for his father, I have been in agony. We were going to wed.”
“I am so terribly sorry, Mary. I will do all I can to alleviate yer pain, but I dinnae ken how. I have a sennight until the wedding.” Elizabeth frowned and squeezed Mary’s hand once more before releasing it.
“My thanks. There is one more thing, my lady. I shouldnae say but…”
“Elizabeth. My name is Elizabeth, and if we are to be friends, ye can say aught.”
“Och, fine. Elizabeth,” Mary said slowly. “I am with child. I havenae told Alex yet. ’Twill only make him more upset, mayhap cause him to call off the wedding. And I cannae risk ending peace.”
“Ye carry his bairn?” Elizabeth gasped and felt herself go dizzy. This situation only became more complicated by the minute.
Mary clutched her middle and nodded her head, more tears rolling down her chin. “Aye. I believe I am at the end of the third month. I was going to tell him, and then…” she hiccupped and Elizabeth rubbed her back soothingly.
“I… I dinnae ken what to say, but we will remedy this. I shall think of something. Good night, Mary. Dinnae fret.” Elizabeth walked away from her new companion toward the tower stairs. She had to flee the room. Nothing but dread plagued her. She did not wish to make enemies and this situation was becoming more unbearable by the moment. Out of sorts, Elizabeth climbed the stairs to the third floor, found her chamber, and opened the door.
Hopefully, the morrow would be less exhausting than today had been, and she would get an opportunity to see more of the castle grounds, meet the staff, and speak to her brother about the situation. There had to be an answer. Finding Tilda sleeping in a chair near the hearth, Elizabeth grinned and went to wake up her companion and explain all that had happened during dinner and with Mary, leaving out the bairn. Tilda was known to gossip and the last thing Elizabeth wanted was any shame to befall Mary.
“Always meddling, ain’t ye?” Tilda said with a chuckle while she helped remove Elizabeth’s dress and under tunic, replacing it with a warm chemise that had been close to the fire awaiting her.
“Ye ken I cannae abide the lass being unhappy on my account. I would prefer a friend, rather than a foe.” She yawned and climbed into her bed, which had been delivered from Dunnottar and reassembled for her in this new chamber. It felt enough like home with her chest, bed, and Tilda by her side. Stretching and burrowing deep into the clean blankets, she closed her eyes and began drifting off to sleep, but not before she heard Matilda mutter a stern warning to her.
“Dinnae go off and fall in love with the wrong brother now, Beth. I saw the way Robert looks at ye. He fancies ye.”
“Ridiculous,” Elizabeth mumbled, half-asleep. “He was occupying me because Alexander was too busy to do so himself.”
“Ye keep telling yerself that, Mistress.”
“I shall. And, I’m not yer mistress.” She yawned once more and drifted off to sleep, just as a solution to all her troubles began to brew in her half-conscious mind. If she were to be used as a pawn, she may as well make the smartest move to everyone’s advantage and, suddenly, that move made itself known. Smiling, she found herself actually look
ing forward to the morrow.
Chapter Four
“In less than a sennight’s time, there will either be war, massacre, or mayhap both. Donald, Lord of the Isles, is fast approaching.” Robert leaned against the solar door and listened as Alexander, William, Reginald, and several others heard the messenger’s announcement.
“I ken The Donald is planning an attack, wanting to seize the lands north of us that rightly belong to the Earl of Mar, but I had nay idea he was already on his way,” Alexander groused and rubbed his forehead with his hand. “I only just had a missive sent to the earl today.”
“He kens already,” Charles, their best informant and fastest messenger, replied. “He is the one who sent this new information to us. The Donald wants to seize the lands of the Earldom of Ross, believing he has a stronger claim than the regent. He is a bloody fool, but he has several Highland clans ready to fight beside him for power.”
“Our cousin willnae stand for this. Being the Earl of Mar, he will have nay choice but to gather an army, and fast. If The Donald is threatening to burn Aberdeenshire, we have nay choice either,” Reginald responded, standing beside Alexander with his arms crossed.
“Aye,” Alex scowled and looked around the room. “We must prepare for battle and march north to meet the earl. How many days away is The Donald?”
“Mayhap three at the most. He just defeated the Mackays and took Dingwall Castle, one hundred miles west of here and is marching toward us. Most men are on foot, so they cannae travel quickly, but word is the battle was already three days ago. We have enough time to gather our men and supplies and march north.”
“Bastards never let us have peace. They will fight against the Stewarts and kill innocent Scots simply for land and power that was never theirs!” Alexander cursed and stood from his desk.