by Mia Pride
“Aye, Alex. I am a bloody fool.” Elizabeth continued to laugh and twirl as water soaked her to the bone, her garments weighed down and now plastered to her skin, revealing the sleekness of her body beneath. She was a wonder of the world, and she was his sister.
If he knew how to cry, mayhap he would have in this moment, knowing the tears would be masked by the downpour. But after the horrors of “Red Harlaw”, Robert wondered if he would ever cry again.
“All right, my lady. Let us return before ye catch an illness and my brother boxes my ears.”
Light as a feather and as graceful as a swan, Elizabeth kicked her leg over Fianna, hiking her soggy skirts up one last time before sending him a wink and peeling off through the fields, back toward Drum.
Robert decided at that moment that any bit of Elizabeth he was fortunate enough to witness – her smile, the creases in the corners of her eyes when she laughed, the way that one curl in front of her head seemed to have a mind of its own – would be secretly treasured and held close to his heart. If she could not be his wife, she could be his proof that love was possible for him, even if unreachable.
Chapter Thirteen
Sneezing for the third time that morning, Elizabeth sniffled and nodded when Matilda handed her a handkerchief for her nose. “I told ye that ye would be ill come morning. What were ye thinking, dancing in that storm barefoot? Ye caught yer death.”
Waving her away, Elizabeth blew her nose and smiled. “I did nay such thing. Ye worry overmuch.”
“About ye? Aye, I do.” Matilda pulled tighter on the laces of Elizabeth’s red bodice, the dress she had chosen to wear for the feast and festivities celebrating her marriage.
Grunting, Elizabeth tried to breath. “Too tight!”
Matilda pulled on them once more and tied them up, stepping away to admire the dress. “Ye look quite lovely, Lizzie. Yer husband will be proud to have ye on his arm.”
A lightness had washed over Elizabeth since returning to the castle the day before. She and Robert had argued in that field, but walked away better for it, having a greater respect for one another. She truly did not wish to spend her life angry at the man. And though she only felt stronger for him than ever, at least she was relieved to have avoided unrequited love, as was her goal. Reginald may never love her, but he respected her and gave her freedom, which was all she required.
“I still dinnae understand why ye and Robert were in that field together. That is a mistake. Ye didnae marry him. Ye cannae be wondering off alone with him,” Matilda said, making a tsking noise.
“One would never believe ye are my companion and not my mother, Tilda. I ken well. I didnae ride off with him.”
“Och, nay. He came after ye. That is much worse.”
“He worried I was leaving Drum and would find danger, which I was close to doing. I admit I hadnae considered the borders. He caught me just before heading over the ridge to Fraser land.”
“This isnae making me feel any better. Ye have become reckless and I dinnae ken what to do with ye. Marrying the wrong brother, riding off alone, returning soaking wet.” She shook her head and bent over to grab Elizabeth’s leather slippers, placing them on her feet, which she was mighty grateful for. Bending over with her bodice so tight would be nearly impossible.
“I married a different brother. Not the wrong one.”
A rude snort came from Matilda. “I dinnae see ye dancing in the rain with Reginald.” Biting her lip and taking a deep breath, Elizabeth decided it was best to stay silent. She need not defend herself. Besides, there had been no dancing in the rain. She could not help it if the storm came on so abruptly, nor if she had been so overcome by its beauty that she reveled in it a wee bit before riding home. She would have been soaked either way.
“Say what ye will, but Robert and I now have peace between us and that is all I need.” Another rude sound came from Matilda and now Elizabeth could not bite her tongue. “Ye convinced me to marry Reginald! ’Twas yer idea! Now ye scold me for it?”
“Ye needed to marry an Irvine and ye refused Robert outright. It was the only option.” Matilda tugged a wee bit too hard as she began to twist Elizabeth’s hair into one of her masterful designs, and she fought back tears of pain, refusing to let Matilda get the best of her.
“I ken I made a mistake, all right?” Elizabeth snapped, fisting her skirts and squeezing her eyes shut. “I should have married Robert. But, I didnae. The truth is that I am in love with my husband’s brother, and there is naught I can do about it. I would prefer to make it through this feast and the celebrations without ye reminding me of what a stubborn fool I am and what a mess I have made of my life!” Tears threatened to spill, but she choked them back, refusing to allow her emotions to break down now. She could cry in private later if needed, curse herself all she wanted. But right now, there were minstrels, jogglers, people from both clans, and a huge feast awaiting her in the keep.
Matilda opened her mouth to say something just as a loud knock rapped on the door. “Are ye ready, my wife? ’Tis time for the feast.” Elizabeth’s eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth. Had Reginald heard her admit to loving his brother? The blood drained from her face as the horrible thought settled.
Looking at Matilda, she mouthed, “Do ye think he heard?” All Matilda did was shrug and walk over to open the door, allowing him entrance. She turned to face him, afraid to see anger or confusion on his face, but instead he wore a genuine smile, as always. Yet he also had a black and purple bruise over his left eye and Elizabeth suspected it was from his argument with Robert, though she had no idea what it had been about.
“Ye look beautiful. The bonniest lass in all of Aberdeen. Nay, Scotland.” His gaze shot to Matilda briefly, before looking back at her. Why had he looked at Matilda that way? As if he wanted to say something he could not.
“My thanks. I am ready.” Her elation over making amends with Robert seemed to disappear as dread took hold. So many people would be there to celebrate a marriage that meant nothing at all to her. But that was life, was it not? Not if ye had married Robert. Her mind kept reprimanding her for being a dolt, but just as quickly, she shook it off once more, trying to focus on the logical reasons she had chosen Reginald.
Placing her hand in the crook of his arm, she allowed him to lead her down the stairs to the very last place she wanted to be, the center of everyone’s attention, toward the whispers of the rightfully confused members of both clans.
Soft music filled the room, along with the sounds of idle chatter and laughter. The large hearth behind the head table blazed brightly and illuminated the room along with the many wall sconces flickering as men and women entered the great hall through the front entrance facing the inner bailey.
Elizabeth had to focus on her breathing as she took her first step into the room, feeling fresh rushes beneath her feet and the scents of meat and savory sauces wafting from behind the screens. Her bodice felt tighter than ever and she hoped she would not pass out with every step she took toward the high table. With every second that passed, the voices quieted, and eyes turned in their direction. The people overall seemed pleased with the union, considering it ended their feud, yet curiosity was clearly written on all the faces she passed.
Reginald guided her to her seat next to Robert, who wore what felt like a forced smile and more knots tightened in her belly. They had resolved their issues just the day before, but the tension between them still felt irreversible, like her decision to marry his brother would forever hinder their ability to get along. He tilted his head toward Reginald with a very unnatural stiffness before addressing the crowd. “I present to ye all, the newly wedded couple,” he said with little emotion. Those words felt foreign to her ears, like they were meant for someone else. She did not feel like a married woman.
Reginald grabbed her hand and smiled, and she gave a shaky grin back. When the cheers and clapping died off, she sat slowly in her chair, Reginald on her left and Robert on her right. Two seats down from Re
ginald, her brother sat beside their cousin, Isabella. He glanced at Elizabeth and gave her a reassuring grin, which helped comfort her a wee bit. Still, her bodice felt tighter than ever and she was certain her cheeks were just as red as the fabric of her surcoat. Placing her hands beneath the table to hide their shaking, she accidentally bumped into Robert’s knee and flinched, pulling back. “I am sorry.”
“No need,” he said calmly without looking at her while he cut the meat on his trencher to serve to the woman sitting beside him. Elizabeth had never seen the woman before but her large green eyes and soft blond hair complemented her fair features. The lass giggled when Robert passed a large piece of meat to her and leaned in a bit closer to him.
“Who is that lass?” Elizabeth asked Reginald, leaning in so only he could hear, then placed a small bite of venison into her mouth. The ache in the pit of her stomach made certain she’d had no appetite for several days, but she had to attempt to eat the meal meant to celebrate her marriage.
“That is Marta Gordon, a prospective bride for Robert.”
“A… bride?” Choking on the meat, Reginald banged on her back until she successfully swallowed the piece, tears brimming in her eyes as she choked back an embarrassing coughing fit. “That was fast.”
Reginald shrugged. “Aye, well, he is laird and we share much land with the Gordons. The match had been in question for years. She quite fancies Robert, as ye can see and the marriage would secure our northern border. She had been an option for me, as well. But, I am happily married now.” Winking at her, he popped a piece of meat in his mouth and smiled. “She is a bonnie lass, but not the smartest of them. I suppose it doesnae matter as long as she can run the keep and have some bairns.”
Run the keep? This lass would become Lady of Drum if she married Robert. She knew the day would come, but she had not expected it to come so soon. He was supposed to be celebrating his marriage with her at this feast and, instead, he was courting another lass. Elizabeth knew she had no right to feel angry or jealous, yet the nauseous waves pulling her under made her break into a sweat. She wanted to convince herself that she simply did not want to lose control of the castle, but that was the very least of her concerns. She was afraid of losing a man she never had, a man she could have had if not for her stubborn need to avoid emotions. Now, she was flooded with so many emotions, she did not know what to do with them.
As the meal wore on, Reginald chatted back and forth with her and her brother idly, never anything of consequence, which suited her state of mind just fine. There was no way she could concentrate on greater matters while she heard Marta’s soft giggles, whispers, and sweet childlike voice tinging beside Robert, who also chuckled now and then and had, at one point, completely turned his back to Elizabeth.
Matilda was at one of the long rectangular tables laughing with some of the other people from Clan Keith, but kept stealing furtive glances at Elizabeth and Reginald. Once again, her strange behavior was not unnoticed, but Elizabeth was good and well stuck at that table until the festivities wore down. “Have ye noticed that Matilda has been acting strangely? She keeps looking at us as if we have food on our faces.”
“I dinnae ken,” he said with a shrug and began speaking with her brother once more. Huffing out a sigh, Elizabeth simply folded her hands on her lap under the table and looked down at her half-full trencher, trying to stifle a yawn at her own wedding feast.
“My laird!” A man swiftly came through the door, causing the fires in the sconces to flicker as a draft flew in. Approaching the table was Finlay, the marshal, and Elizabeth sat up straight, knowing only one thing would bring him in to disrupt the feast. “Tis Aina. She is in labor, my laird. I came to fetch ye at yer request.”
Standing up quickly, Robert pushed away from his chair and Elizabeth stood up, as well. “I am coming,” she said and stepped around Robert to leave the high table.
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her back. “Nay. This is nay place for a lady and ye should stay at yer own wedding feast.”
Jerking her arm out of his grip, she scowled at him. “The feast is nearly over, my husband has been speaking with my brother for an hour while I sit and stare at my food, and I am the one who visits Aina every day in the stables. I wish to comfort her.”
Snorting, Robert rolled his eyes and blocked her way. “Ye arenae needed.”
“I dinnae ken why ye care so much whether I come or go. Ye arenae my husband.”
“Aye, and thank God’s mercy for that. Ye are stubborn and willful and opinionated.”
Eyes widening in shock at his words before narrowing on him once more, Elizabeth ground her teeth and clenched her fist. So much for their short-lived peace. “And ye are a bullheaded, controlling arse!”
Reginald popped out of his chair and stepped close to Elizabeth, pulling her against him. “Dinnae speak to my wife in that manner!”
“Oh, do shut up!” Robert roared at his brother. “This is all yer fault in the first place!” Marta’s wide green eyes looked between the three of them, jaw slack. Fortunately, the lass knew to stay out of it and keep quiet. Mayhap she was smarter than she looked.
“How is any of this my fault? I didnae inseminate the ridiculous mare,” Reginald said defensively, but a small smirk played across his face and Elizabeth scowled at him as well. Was this all a game to Reginald? He took nothing seriously, which was half the reason why she decided to marry him, but already his careless mannerisms grated on her nerves.
“I have had enough of the both of ye!” Robert waved them away and stormed from them. Watching him sprint toward the inner bailey with Finlay in his wake, Elizabeth realized the entirety of the hall was staring at the scene. Naturally. They had been loud enough to wake the dead. Some wedding feast.
But, if Robert thought he could command her to stay put like a wee good lassie, he had another think coming. Picking up the skirts of her heavy red dress and taking a stifled breath as the corset pinched into her breasts once more, Elizabeth determinedly stomped her way out of the keep and toward the stables. She would be there when Aina foaled, and nobody, not even her lout of a laird was going to stop her.
He knew she was following behind him. He could feel her presence all over his body, creeping up his neck and tingling his scalp like an energy he was beholden to. He had tried to make peace, tried to put it all aside, shove his feelings for Elizabeth into the darkest corner of his heart and court Marta instead. It had been going well until he had to actually speak to Elizabeth.
“Ye dinnae follow instructions well, do ye?” he asked without looking behind him.
“Not when they come from a man with nay sense of reason, nay,” she huffed, clearly trying to keep up with his steps.
Spinning on his heels, he faced her and stopped so abruptly, she plowed into him and gasped when he grabbed her arms to steady her. “Ye are the one who makes nay sense, my lady. Why would ye marry my ridiculous brother instead of me?” Robert gave her a small shake and she gripped his waist to gain some purchase.
“I told ye why! I dinnae ken why ye care!”
“I dinnae!” he roared, feeling the blood run to his face. He knew he was acting boorish but the cursed lass drove him mad in every way possible. He wanted to shake her, yell, confess his love, press his lips to hers and lay her down in the stables, lift her skirts and show her how a real man made love to his woman. But, she was not his and that only made him want to shout more.
“Good!” she replied, digging her nails into his side almost painfully. They were so close together he could feel her breasts pressed against his chest. Looking down, he saw them heaving as she breathed, straining against her bodice. How he wanted to pull the string and watch them come tumbling out in to his hands. He would feel their softness and warmth and know even more of her beauty. “Ye have Marta waiting for ye in the keep, so ye neednae worry over me or my husband!” she quipped.
Leaning closer, he grazed his lips so gently against her ear that he would have wondered if she felt it, if not for t
he shuddering of her body. “Ye are right, Lizzie. I do.” Pulling away, he left her standing there, suddenly alone, swerving slightly as if in a daze. Good. Mayhap he gave her something to think about. It was too late to rectify what had transpired. Despite his deep yearning for Elizabeth, he could never have her. It would take all the strength he owned to keep from trying to steal her away, but he was not that sort of man, brother, or laird. She had chosen otherwise and he would have to live with it. Some sick satisfaction came over him when he realized she was affected by him and his touch. That would have to suffice for the moment.
“My laird! She is ready to foal!” He heard Finlay shout from the stables, holding up a lantern to see what was taking them so long. Elizabeth sniffed in frustration and shoved past him toward the stables. Grumbling, Robert followed, knowing he had no control over what she did and having no more time to argue with her.
“The foal appears to be breech!” Finlay grunted, rolling up the sleeves of his tunic and getting on his knees in front of the horse who whinnied in distressed, thrashing her head and rolling her eyes.
“Poor, sweet Aina,” Elizabeth soothed, also crouching in the hay and running her hands over the horse’s strained neck. “The foal’s hind feet are coming. That, indeed, means she is breech. She may be able to birth on her own, but the hips will be the deciding point. We may need to pull its feet to reposition the foal.”
“Aye, ye are correct, my lady,” Finlay said with a nod.
Robert stepped forward, rolled up his sleeves and looked sideways at her. “Ye have done this before?”
Continuing to caress Aina’s neck, Elizabeth nodded. “Aye. I always insisted on being present at the foaling. I love horses and we share a bond. I feel as if my presence is calming to them.” Robert watched at Aina’s breathing calmed with every stroke of Elizabeth’s fingers and he knew she was correct in coming here tonight. She truly was a calming presence to the mare.