by Mia Pride
Chapter Five
The image of Elizabeth crying on the wall walk had kept Robert up for much of the night. She held her head high when others were around, but privately, she was vulnerable and lonely. Somehow, he felt slightly privileged to have been witness to the more private side of Elizabeth, the side nobody else saw and hoped he had been of some comfort to her the night before.
She had asked to marry him. That had contributed to his sleeplessness as well. Where his mind should have been on war, it had been on his brother’s bride. He would need to avoid the lass as much as possible. The feelings she stirred within him were dangerous and inappropriate for a sister by marriage. There was no denying her beauty, but many women were beautiful. There was just something more to Elizabeth, something deeper that he felt drawn to. Still, he had been honest last night. If he could choose a wife, he supposed one like her would be preferred, but he was not looking for one, nor could he legally marry her. And it was just as well. He never wanted a wife he could love. Love made men weak. Look at Alex. He was more miserable than ever. Nay, Robert would marry as befit his clan and he would hope she was comely enough to share a bed with at night, yet dull enough to bear no true love for. It was better that way.
When Elizabeth approached the chapel with her brother by her side, her brilliant blue damask dress caught the rays of the sun, as did the gold threading throughout. It had a wide neck and long flowing sleeves with a belt of gold around her slim waist. Her pearl rosary rested snuggly between her ample breasts, and she touched it from time to time – a nervous habit he had picked up on already. It was clear the item meant more to her than just prayer beads or a piece of jewelry, and he found himself disappointed he had not bothered to ask about it the night before.
Blue was the traditional color of innocence and Elizabeth looked every bit the virginal blushing bride with a tinge of pink in her cheeks and a proud smile on her lips. Apparently, his talk had done her well, for gone were her tears and before him stood a confident woman. Nobody would ever believe she had been sobbing atop the battlements the night before or requesting to marry a different brother. He wanted to be happy, but somehow seeing her appear happy as she approached Alex made his stomach lurch.
“Alexander got a wee bit fortunate, aye?” Reginald leaned in and whispered into Robert’s ear.
“To be forced to marry a woman he doesnae ken?” Robert grumbled.
“Dinnae pretend she isnae a beauty, Brother. Even ye, with yer serious disposition, have a good set of eyes. Ye can hit a target from two hundred meters away, yet ye cannae see that our brother’s bride is built for sin?” Reginald waggled his brows and Robert scowled at him.
“Ye disrespect yer brother and yer sister with yer words. Shut yer trap, or I shall shut it for ye and ye willnae like my methods.” An unexpected instinct to protect Elizabeth gripped at his gut, making his stomach clench. Why was he feeling this way? Mayhap because now that Elizabeth would be kin, he felt the need to keep her safe from anyone who would besmirch her honor, even Reginald… especially Reginald, who did not have a good reputation with the lassies and seemed to run his mouth over-freely.
“Och, who pulled yer trews into a bunch this morn?”
“Ye did with yer disrespect. Do ye want the Keiths to hear how ye speak of her?” Robert whispered to his brother just as Elizabeth walked past, the scent of roses following in her wake. She made no eye contact with him, simply looked straight ahead at Alexander while keeping a steady grin on her face. He knew it was for show, but he was glad she had been able to pull herself together in time.
Alexander had the decency to smile in return, bowing to William before taking his bride’s hand and facing the priest in front of their chapel’s entrance. The ceremony began but Robert was too distracted with thoughts of war preparations to focus. How were they all to celebrate with a feast tonight when there was so much to do? Yet, this marriage added a strong ally close to their border who would help them defend against The Donald’s army.
Vows and rings were exchanged but nothing else really registered in Robert’s mind until he saw his brother and Elizabeth walking away from the chapel holding hands and smiling as the crowd of villagers, castle dwellers, and Keiths clapped and cheered before dispersing. The air was thick with tension and he knew their men were chomping at the bit to get to practicing in the lists and preparing for the journey. The celebration would continue tonight but, for now, it was time to focus on other issues.
“I feel bad for that poor lassie. What a wedding day she gets, aye? Everybody shuffling their feet, anxious to be on with their day, instead of the all-day celebration she deserves.” Robert recognized the elderly woman speaking as the blacksmith’s wife, Ida. So, it was not just he who had felt the itch to be away from the ceremony, though mayhap he had different motives.
“Och, well, she is a noblewoman and ’tis her duty, is it not? She gets to live in the castle, and be Lady of the Castle, does she not? We get to marry for love if we are fortunate in the village, but we slave the day away. I dinnae feel so bad for the lady, if I do say so,” a younger woman heavy with child replied as she rubbed the aching arch of her back. “I will work ’til the day I give birth, then be expected to be back on my feet the next day. She has it easy, I say. Besides, the laird ain’t so hard on the eyes, aye?”
The conversation faded as the two women walked back toward the village along with the rest of the folks and the warriors were already walking toward the armory to gather weapons.
Following his men, Robert thought on what the women said. He supposed they were right. Everyone played a role. Everyone had hardships. In the end, Elizabeth’s situation was much more ideal than many others, including his, for he was off to war in the morn.
“Robert? Are ye coming or what?” one of his men hollered at him as they walked past and dispersed from the chapel.
Nodding his head, Robert looked away and watched as Elizabeth slowly walked back toward the castle with Alexander, wondering why he was constantly so concerned about the lass. He had his own concerns. Everybody did. She was not his wife to protect and, for some reason, reminding himself of that only made him angry.
He was a bloody fool. He could think all day about why he was so damned protective of the lass, but he was afraid if he thought about it too hard, the truth would surface, and he was better off not thinking about it… or Elizabeth.
Shaking his head and popping his knuckles, Robert followed his men, determined to forget all about the marriage, Lady Elizabeth of Drum, or the fact that she was now his sister.
The keep was filled with her kin, new and old, yet Elizabeth had never felt more alone. Staring into the crowd, she scanned the room wishing she was part of the crowd below the head table, not sitting next to a husband she didn’t even know. Once again, she was placed between Alexander and Robert, neither of them paying her much attention. Somehow, the thought of having Robert’s company had made her feel like she would survive this feast, yet he had seemingly decided she was no longer in need of his companionship. Humiliation clawed at her. She had been a fool to even mention her plan to him. Now, he would not even speak with her.
Hands folded in her lap, Elizabeth looked down at her trencher of pheasant, carrots, and onions in a savory sauce, but her stomach was too tied up in knots to manage a bite of food. The bedding ceremony would be expected soon, and everybody would watch her ascend the steps with her husband, like a prized bull about to inseminate a cow, if he could be bothered to so much as look at her, she mused. Nay, she was not looking forward to any bit of it. Now, if it was with Robert…
Gasping at her own lewd thoughts, Elizabeth clutched her rosary and looked about, hoping nobody noticed the sudden blushing of her cheeks. What thoughts! So what that he was handsome. He looked like her husband. So what if he had been the only person to consider her comfort and feelings since arriving at Drum. Alexander was laird and much too busy, so naturally it fell on the younger brother to take on the responsibility. That’s all she wa
s to anyone in the end. And clearly, by the way Robert made certain to turn his back slightly toward her as he laughed with the woman seated on his left, he felt his duty was over now that she was married.
Well, she was nobody’s responsibility. She could take care of herself, this castle, and all its people while the men were gone, and she yearned to prove as much. Elizabeth Keith, now Irvine, needed no man to comfort her, especially out of some false sense of duty.
Indignation roiled and she pursed her lips, knowing herself well enough to keep quiet, lest she say exactly what was on her mind. If they did not wish to speak to her, it was well and good, for she felt the same way. All Elizabeth wanted to do was get this over with. Alexander left on the morrow and she would have some time alone to adjust to life here at Drum.
The anxiety was getting to be too much. There were jogglers and minstrels, all there to entertain the bride, groom, and their guests. But nobody paid much mind and she was certain everyone was more concerned about what the impending battle would bring, as was she.
Mary was conveniently missing from the festivities, as she was from the chapel, though Elizabeth could not blame her. Leaning in close to Alexander’s ear, Elizabeth whispered softly, interrupting his seemingly important conversation with a balding man beside him, who she remembered as his uncle who served as the castle’s steward. “I am sorry to interrupt, but I ken ye have to leave in the morn and hoped we may retire?” Speaking the words carefully, she hoped she did not sound wanton, for it was not the bedding she was anxious for, but to be over with it and asleep within the hour.
Turning from his uncle, Alex looked at her strangely, scanning the room, no doubt for Mary. The frustrated sigh that escaped her could not be withheld, nor did it go unnoticed. “Aye, I suppose we should.” Now, an unladylike snort came from her, but fortunately the minstrels drowned it out, though she was certain Alex, and mayhap Robert, heard it.
“She isnae here, Husband.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes and stood up from the head table, done with this entire sham. She was not at all concerned with his relationship with Mary, but could he at least focus on his duties while at his own wedding?
A flush covered his cheeks and his eyes grew wide as he started to stumble on his words and blabber incoherently as he stood up beside her. The room started to cheer and shout bawdy words as men smacked the tables and women whooped and hollered. Elizabeth wished to disappear behind the screens, but it would do no good to avoid the situation. Best to push through.
Taking her hand, Alex helped her down from the head table and over to the spiral staircase where he guided her up to the third story where both their rooms were. She presumed she would be sleeping in his bedchamber this night, which made her stomach clench and her breath catch. Brave though she was, Elizabeth had heard too many horror stories from the lassies of her clan about the pain of the first time, and the childbirth that eventually would follow.
Approaching the door to his chamber, Alexander continued past and stopped in front of hers, pushing the door open, where the fire was already lit and Tilda waited within, a strange look on her face. Was she to get ready in her rooms first and await his return? Her blue damask dress was heavy and, suddenly, she felt a sweat break out all over her body. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her nerves.
Before she could open her mouth to ask questions, Alex planted a brotherly kiss on her forehead and stepped back, putting his hands on her shoulders. “As ye ken, I leave on the morrow. I dinnae feel right bedding ye, then leaving.”
Something that felt like humiliation mixed with relief washed over her body, sending chills up her spine. “Ye dinnae mean to… to…” Words escaped her. Never had she expected this.
“When I arrive home from battle, we will… consummate the marriage. Until then, I leave ye well, Wife. I dinnae wish to plant a seed in ye if I willnae be around to father a bairn.” Little did he know, he was already father to one bairn in the castle.
“But… the sheets…” Elizabeth stuttered, trying to process all that he was saying.
“Yer maid has taken care of that,” Alexander looked over at Matilda, who shrugged in the corner, looking as shocked as Elizabeth felt, but she gave a small nod of affirmation to him before he looked at Elizabeth once more.
“Is this about Mary? I dinnae mind, Alex. I ken this isnae a love match.”
Shaking his head, Alexander smirked at her for the first time, giving her a look of respect. “Robert did say ye were a keen one. Ye will do well here at Drum, and Mary told me ye spoke with her. Ye are a good woman, Elizabeth. But this isnae about her. I am yer husband now and she kens that. Nay, this is about what I said. I willnae burden ye with a babe until I am certain I will be around to raise it. Until then, my wee wife, I bid ye farewell, until I return.”
Smiling softly, Elizabeth finally felt what she had hoped she would all along. A mutual respect for her husband. He was preoccupied as a laird and it was not his fault that they had to marry in a hurry before he left for battle. He had sacrificed more for this marriage than she had, for he had given up love. When he arrived home, she would speak with him about his relationship, let him know she was not bothered if he continued it in private, so as not to embarrass her. But now was not the time.
“My thanks. Ye are a good man Alexander Irvine. I am honored to be yer wife and vow to do my best for Drum and yer kin. I shall work well with Mary. She is a good lass. And I wish ye well and will pray for ye every day until ye return, I vow.”
Nodding slowly, Alexander picked up her hand, gave it one soft kiss, then turned on his heels and walked back to his chamber.
Still trying to process everything, Elizabeth stepped into her own chamber and looked at Matilda for answers just after she shut her door. “What just happened?”
“Ye married the only man in Scotland with any honor left, is what just happened.”
“I suppose ye are right. I am just confused. What does he mean about ye taking care of the sheets?”
Holding up a vial, Matilda shook it and raised her brows. “’Tis the blood of a swine. He asked me to smear it on the sheets so nobody would suspect the marriage wasnae consummated. He didnae want yer marriage questioned, nor did he want ye embarrassed when the ladies doing the wash run their mouths.”
Turning around so Matilda could undo the laces of her heavy dress, Elizabeth sighed as she felt fresh air flood her lungs once more. When her dress and slippers were removed, she walked over to her bed and plopped down on the mattress, allowing her feet to dangle off the edge, pondering the night. “I dinnae ken what to say, but I am relieved. Is that bad?”
“Nay. Ye dinnae ken the man, husband or not. It isnae unusual to feel anxious. But now ye can rest easy, Lizzie… until he returns.”
“There will be nay rest, Tilda. I have a castle to run and people to care for now. Not to mention all of our kin are heading off to fight the enemy.”
A sense of dread gripped her as she watched Tilda pour a few drops of blood onto the white linen sheets before shoving them aside. Climbing under the covers and allowing Matilda to tuck her in, she wondered how much more blood would be spilled before she saw her husband once more.
Chapter Six
The dawn came before Robert had had an ounce of sleep. Too busy loading supplies and helping Alexander ready the men for their northern journey, they expected to meet up with Mar close to Harlaw, only a twenty-mile journey. Easily achieved in a day upon a horse, it would take two to make it with the army, as some men were on foot and carts carrying supplies would slow down their progress.
Scouts had already been sent to the north, ordered to look for signs of the approaching enemy. They had to head off The Donald before he reached Aberdeen and made good of his promise to burn it down for what he considered revenge for past deeds done, none of which the Irvines were guilty of. However, their clan’s connection to the Stewart king, his uncle who was currently serving as regent, and their cousin Alexander, Earl of Mar, who was also a Stewart, apparently made
them common enemies of the Highlands. So be it.
Farewells were made by the men who had a lass to console, but Robert simply sat upon his horse and bit into a juicy apple, watching the women sob as their men saddled up. Alexander said a brief goodbye to his new wife, who was standing in the outer bailey looking as regal as ever in her forest green dress, brown hair plaited over one shoulder. Her face was neutral, showing no signs of emotion as Alex gave her what appeared to be a chaste kiss on the lips before walking away, his armor bearer in his wake.
Briefly, Robert considered the sort of kiss he would give to his wife if she was as bonnie and intelligent as Elizabeth. It most certainly would be more than a mere peck, but he shook those thoughts off and turned his horse away just as he saw her eyes lock on him from across the courtyard. Robert did not have a lover, nor did he need one. Romance led to love and love led to marriage, which led to bairns and more responsibility than he cared for. Aye, he had had many lovers, but none who did not understand that his duty was to the Stewarts of Scotland and he went where he was needed and fought who needed to be fought without any concern over returning home to a lass or a child.
Summer in Scotland was mild and refreshing, yet traveling out in the open sun for hours, rays beating down upon his flesh, caused him to sweat. But, he had traveled in worse and would take the summer’s heat over the winter’s chill any day. Leading the men at the front with Alexander and Reginald, Robert realized that his elder brother was much quieter than he usually was on the way to a battle. His frivolous brother usually never showed signs of worry or stress, but since Father’s death, Alex seemed perpetually plagued by worry.
“Being laird has turned ye serious,” Robert finally said, breaking the long silence.
“’Tis not so much being laird, but being married,” he grunted.