by Mia Pride
“Ye have the arms of the Keiths with ye, Alex, but ye must marry Elizabeth before we depart for battle, or else the contract for peace isnae fulfilled.”
Robert looked at Elizabeth’s elder brother and saw a strong family resemblance. The shared honeyed hair and eyes. It was also clear the man valued her greatly and wanted peace as much as they did.
“The wedding will have to be rushed,” Alexander agreed. “On the morrow. I have nay choice. But I will have nay time to court her ye ken, William. It will be a ceremony, a bedding, and then I am off to prepare for war. ’Tis the only way.”
William nodded and frowned. “It is most unfortunate, but it is the only way. She willnae be pleased.”
“I ken. I am not pleased, either, but if we are to fulfill our peace treaty and prepare for war, she will have to understand.” Alexander huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “I apologize. I dinnae mean to be insensitive to her needs, but I dinnae have time to consider them with so many lives at stake.”
“I understand, as will she. Elizabeth is a reasonable lass. She hasnae complained once of her fate.”
Robert looked at the men in the room, contemplating the strange woman. She seemed resigned to her fate, aye, even complacent, and not at all put off by being passed from father to son. She seemed to have a strong will and a stronger faith, if the pearl rosary she kept snuggly tucked into her bosom was any indication. He knew being rushed to the altar was going to cause her angst, and he wasn’t entirely certain why that bothered him as much as it did. She seemed strong-willed and capable, yet she was soon to be married and left alone in a castle with nobody except her maid and her husband’s mistress.
Shaking his head, Robert snapped back to the moment. War was coming. Lives would be lost, mayhap his, which would be preferable to the loss of his kin. He needed to focus. Life was unpredictable and dangerous in Scotland and everyone had to make tough decisions and face their own fates, even Elizabeth Keith.
Alexander strode past the men and walked toward he door. “If ye will excuse me. It has been a long day. I will retire now. But on the morrow, we meet in the lists and practice, discuss the situation with our men, and prepare for our journey. We must leave some men behind to protect Drum and the village in case The Donald decides to make good on his threat to burn us down.”
Silently, everyone nodded and watched as their laird walked away. Robert had never seen his jovial brother looking so defeated or drained, but knew better than to pity him. He was a knight, a member of the Earl of Mar’s elite army. He had fought in many battles and would survive this one as well.
Once Alex was out of earshot, Reginald grunted and leaned against the desk. “I have never seen Alex this way. Usually he would be chomping at the bit for a battle.”
“’Tis not battle that he dreads,” Robert grumbled and scratched his beard before looking at her brother warily. “Nay offense against yer sister, William, but my brother is still grieving our father, taking on the lairdship, preparing for a battle and—”
“And giving up a woman he loves to marry my sister. I ken.”
“Ye do?”
“Aye, and so does she. ’Tis been bothering her since the moment we arrived, not because she is envious, but because she believes true love is rare and she doesnae wish to destroy theirs.” William rolled his eyes. “If only she wasnae so innocent to think that he wouldnae keep a mistress.”
Robert looked at William and crinkled his forehead. “Ye say it as if ye dinnae mind.”
“I dinnae,” he shrugged. “We need a marriage and a child born of Irvine and Keith blood to keep the peace. As long as he is kind and respectful, I dinnae care what else he does. Elizabeth has nay allusions of love, so I dinnae think she will care a jot.”
Somehow, Robert was not so sure. No wife wanted her husband to keep a mistress. Aye, it was common enough with arranged marriages and something most women had to endure, but he did not suspect she would simply accept such a fate, though he admitted she was a mysterious lass. However, he knew Alex was not like most men. He would suffer his loss before he betrayed his wife or risked offending the Keiths. Though he had known Elizabeth for only a day, he felt a repressed pain radiating from her. She held her head high and kept her back straight to show strength, but he saw sadness in her honeyed eyes. And why he should care bothered him almost as much as the thought of her suffering.
Sighing deeply, William slapped Robert on the shoulder and walked to the door. “I must awaken my sister and tell her the news. She will marry Alex on the morrow. I love Elizabeth, ye ken. She means the world to me. I dinnae like what she must endure, I assure ye. But, we both grew up kenning our duties. I risk my life in battle against the enemy, and she gives her life in marriage to an enemy.” He walked past, his last words lingering like some unspoken warning.
The Irvines had better treat his sister well, or there would be hell to pay.
Breathing pained her. How could something she did so effortlessly every day, suddenly take all her concentration to avoid suffocating on her reality? As if being forced to marry an elderly man had not been bad enough, being told she was being traded from father to son as if she were no more important than a trade between a fishmonger and a baker. Then, she was informed that she had to leave her home and everything she had ever known to marry a man she had hardly exchanged words with in her life. Now, she was awakened by her brother to be warned that her marriage would take place on the morrow. There would be no preparing and no opportunity to get to know her husband before he left for battle.
A tear rolled down her cheek and Elizabeth swiped it away with the back of her hand, wrapping her wool arisaid around her snuggly as the wind beat against her face. Standing on top of the battlements, Elizabeth could see the forested area surrounding the castle to the east and the stars glowing brightly overhead, even if clouds did float by to stifle their light intermittently. It reminded her of something her mother used to say. Just as the light of the stars would be temporarily dimmed by the clouds, so too would the light of her life be temporarily dimmed by her troubles, but just as the wind comes to move away the clouds, so too would better days.
If only her mother and father were here to comfort her now. William had done his best, but he didn’t seem to see beyond her duty anymore. Was she to wear black to her wedding? She was still in mourning and, either way, she was afraid of insulting the Irvines, her new kin. How was she to marry on the morrow?
Clenching her hands around the itchy wool fabric, Elizabeth felt herself shake with dread. She would be strong and show no weakness at the ceremony but, tonight, she was crumbling like the walls of an ancient abandoned fortress. Once strong, but now too weak to stand. Allowing a sob to drift in the air, Elizabeth slid her back down the cold stone walls of the parapet, feeling their chill sink into her spine.
Her eyes would be puffy and red when she walked down the aisle, but there was no stopping the flood of tears rolling from them, threatening to pull her under. Clutching her rosary, Elizabeth said a silent prayer for strength and wisdom, all the while wishing her mama was with her now.
“Elizabeth?” Hearing her name on the wind, she gasped and clutched her throat, popping her eyes open to look around the wall walk. At this hour, surely everyone else was in bed.
A tall dark figure walked toward her slowly and she squeaked in terror, huddling into a protective ball, clutching her rosary against her chest. “Who are ye?” she croaked. A demon sent from hell to torment her, just as they say her mother was tormented? She said she saw dark images and had visions. Everyone thought she was mad and evil, but Elizabeth always knew her mama was simply gifted. She, however, did not envy the gift of speaking to the dead and certainly did not wish to be troubled with it now.
“’Tis Robert. Are ye all right?” When he kneeled down beside her, she could make out his features and released a breath of relief, until mortification set in and she wiped her eyes before scrambling to get to her feet. “Easy now, lass,” he murmured as his hands
rested on her elbows to help raise her to a stand. “Why are ye out here in the cold when ye ought to be sleeping?”
His voice was gentle and concerned, yet she felt ire rising defensively. “Ye try to sleep after being awoken by yer brother telling ye that war is coming again, I must marry a stranger on the morrow, a man who made nay attempt to get to ken me in the one day he had a chance to, and then my kin and new husband would leave for war the following day? Aye, I tell ye, ’tis hard to sleep after such news.”
He nodded his head in understanding and pursed his lips. Even with a short dark beard, she could see his dimpled cheeks and they were rather endearing. Why did he care more about her feelings than either of their brothers?
“’Tis the verra same reason I am up and about now. I will be leaving with them after yer wedding. Scotland never rests. Always a battle to fight. Always a man seeking to take what isnae rightfully his. But I cannae relate to having to wed a stranger or being taken away from my kin. So, for that, I am sorry.”
Sending Robert a side glance, she tried to figure the man out. “Why do ye care so much about how I feel? Nay other man ever has. My brother treats me kindly, but even to him I am but a pawn in the games of men.”
“Am I not also a pawn?” Robert asked. “Arenae we all?” He shrugged and turned to look over the parapet wall, signaling to the forest. “This land isnae ours. Our family was gifted this land by The Bruce during my grandfather’s time. This forest is royal hunting land. We are tasked with maintaining it, as well as protecting the village, resolving disputes, being called upon by our king or our cousin, the Earl of Mar, when our swords are needed for another man’s gain. I will fight in the war. I dinnae stand to win any land. I gain the opportunity to protect my land from a man who would see it burn, so that our king can continue to hunt… or our king’s uncle, since James has been captured for all these years. We are all pawns, lass. Even our king, who rests at the mercy of the English. Life isnae about freedom of will. ’Tis about survival and honor.”
Standing beside him and looking down at the forests Robert spoke of, Elizabeth nodded and felt herself relax a wee bit. He was right. Life was not easy and almost nobody had control over their own life. If the worst thing she must endure is marrying a handsome, kind man she would never love while she became the Lady of Drum, then she supposed it was not much at all, if it fulfilled a life-saving peace treaty.
Still, her thoughts had whirled all night and now was her only chance to make this right. Sighing, she turned to look at him. He was similar to his brother, but his eyes were darker, as was his hair. He seemed to be instinctively astute and astoundingly philosophical. “What if we could have peace and prevent yer brother’s unhappiness?” she asked carefully and eyed him warily.
“How so?” His gaze locked on hers and her breath caught in her throat, Tilda’s words of warning repeating in her mind. Mayhap falling in love with the wrong brother would be the right thing, after all, if she were prone to believing herself capable of such a thing.
“I must marry an Irvine son to create peace. Does it matter which son I marry?”
Robert stilled and she saw a puff of breath escape his lips. “I… I dinnae ken, but I assume so, aye. Yer brother would wish ye to marry the eldest, so ye would be the Lady of Drum.”
“Even if the eldest son had a lover?” she asked carefully. Did Robert know about the bairn? She assumed not if Alexander didn’t, still he did seem rather perceptive.
Shaking his head, he just shrugged and sent her a look of pity that made her stomach sour. She did not want anyone feeling sorry for her; that was not what this was about. “I’m afraid yer brother is aware of Alexander’s previous relationship and is prepared for it to continue. He believes it willnae bother ye, but I see it does. I ken Alex well enough. He willnae do that to ye.”
“The only thing that bothers me is their unhappiness. My brother is right about me. I dinnae seek his love, nor he mine. This is a marriage of convenience and I care not if he carries on with Mary. It’s only… the situation is a wee bit more complicated than that… and I had thought… mayhap if I were to marry a different brother, Alex and Mary can be together and nay hearts shall be broken.”
“And… ye suggest which brother, my lady?” His brow rose and her breath caught once more. He was stunning. There was no way to pretend otherwise and if she married Alexander on the morrow, she would always be attracted to his brother, which felt more sinful than a rosary made of pearls. “Reginald isnae ready to take a wife. He is much too frivolous.”
Heart quickening in her chest, Elizabeth felt chills run down her spine. She did not want to appear wanton. This was entirely about helping Alex and Mary. Right? Right. “I was suggesting ye, Robert. Ye are only five years older than I and I havenae seen any signs that ye have a lady… I mean, not that I have paid attention… ’tis just that…” A blush crept up her cheeks, heating her skin and making her feel like a bloody fool. “Oh, this isnae coming out well at all. I am not suggesting this for any other reason than kindness for them. But, if ye didnae wish to marry me… I—”
Placing his finger on her lips to still her speech, Robert tilted his head and squinted into her eyes, sending her a wee smirk that made her wish to swoon and tingles to shoot throughout her body. This was not a good reaction to have to her potential brother by marriage. “Elizabeth. Has anyone ever told ye that ye talk too fast?”
With his finger still pressed against her lips, she slowly nodded. She had been told just that very thing her entire life, especially when she was nervous. “’Tis not that I dinnae wish to marry ye specifically. ’Tis that I dinnae wish to marry anyone, in general. Alexander is the eldest. ’Tis his duty to wed first, ’tis his name on the marriage contract, and ’tis his title that shall give ye rank. I care for my brother’s happiness, but he kens his responsibilities and a marriage to Mary was never going to happen. He is the heir, now the laird. He must marry a lass from another family for border security. He has kenned this his entire life and any promises he made to Mary were irresponsible and he kens that.”
“Oh.” That was a very long rejection. “Ye could have simply said nay.” She rolled her eyes and huffed in frustration. Somehow she felt a stinging in her heart, like any chance for a marriage beyond duty had just slipped through her fingers. Somehow, with Robert, she sensed a connection, like they could not only secure peace, but truly be content. Mayhap love was a ridiculous expectation, but attraction would be welcome in her marriage.
“Elizabeth, I wish ye understood that I am not saying nay because I dinnae find ye… bonnie.” Robert cleared his throat and looked back toward the forest. “We have our responsibilities, and this is yers, my lady.”
He found her bonnie? Somehow, that thought lifted her spirits somewhat, even if she was doomed to marry his brother instead. But he was right. It had been worth mentioning, but never possible. “Verra well. I will marry Alexander in the morn, become Lady of Drum, secure peace between our clans, and take good care of the castle and yer people while ye fight. And I’ll pray in the chapel nightly that ye all return to us with all yer limbs.”
Chuckling, Robert bowed his head and looked at his left arm. “I appreciate that. I almost lost this limb in a battle against yer brother once. Were ye praying I would keep it back then, I wonder?” he asked with a handsome smile. She was enjoying the ease with which they spoke and how quickly they were able to change the subject.
“Aye, I was. I always pray that nobody is killed or harmed on either side. I ken it is a ridiculous request, for death is inevitable in war, but I still do pray for it. We are all people, simply doing what we think is best for our own people. In the end, who is the wrong? Both? Neither?” Elizabeth shrugged and clutched her arisaid around her shoulders tighter as a gust of wind blew past them. Robert was looking quizzically at her and she wondered if he thought she was daft. Mayhap she was.
“I have never met a lass like ye. Ye are young, yet ye seem to understand the world in a way verra few do.
And ye are brave. I ken this is hard for ye, but ye can do it, and Alex will be a good husband to ye, and if he isnae, I shall box his ears.” Robert smiled widely and put his arm out to her.
Laughing for the first time in a while, Elizabeth linked arms with him and allowed him to escort her back into the tower where it would still be frigid, but the wind would not threaten to blow her away. “Not if William runs him through first,” she giggled, descending the stairs, heading toward her chamber.
As they reached her chamber door, Robert released her arm and bowed slightly. “Then I will make certain Alex is forewarned that his treatment of the Lady of Drum shall always be honorable.” His dimples flashed once more, this time in the light of a flickering sconce on the wall, and Tilda’s warning from earlier rang in her ears once more.
Clearing her throat, Elizabeth sobered herself and nodded politely, then stepped into her room, removing her arisaid and climbing back into the warm clean sheets of her bed. Tilda was wrong about one thing. Robert Irvine had no affections for her beyond a protective brother, but she had been right to warn Elizabeth not to fall in love with the wrong brother. Robert made her stomach flop and her heart flutter. These were dangerous feelings to have in general for any man, but to have them for the brother of her husband would be a sin and a sentence for a lifetime of heartache. She could not allow that.
Admonishing herself for being a daft lass, fancying herself falling for a man she had only known for a day, and simply because he was kind to her, Elizabeth flipped over onto her side and closed her eyes, demanding herself to get some rest and to stop behaving like a fool. There was no such thing as real love, not outside the old pages of a book, and there was no time for such a thing even if it did exist. Men fought wars and women raised babes to grow up and fight more wars. It was a depressing thought, but a sobering one.
Any idea of romance she had harbored for even a moment died upon the edge of sleep and reality as she floated willingly into the nothingness.