For Love of a Laird (Irvines of Drum Book 1)

by Mia Pride

  “Think carefully before ye act any further, Lachlan. This willnae end well for ye and yer men, I assure ye,” Robert warned, gripping the hilt of his sword tighter and preparing for a fight if needed.

  Looking Robert in the eyes, Lachlan dropped his sword on the cool, wet grass at Robert’s feet and kneeled before him. “I havenae come to fight. I have come to seek peace. This was the sword my father used in battle. I wish to exchange swords with ye as a symbol of our clans’ future peace. No more blood shall be spilled between our two clans.”

  Standing before Lachlan, Robert crinkled his brow and pondered the situation. He had heard of such exchanges yet had never been involved in one and felt relief flow through him. There had been too much blood shed, too much violence. The Scots needed to unite and look toward their true enemy, the English, not one another.

  Getting down on his knee in front of Lachlan, Robert placed his sword down before him as well and nodded once. “Red Harlaw was a disgrace. We all have suffered too much loss. The Irvines wish to move forward peaceably.”

  Putting his arm out, Lachlan waited for Robert to do the same and the men clasped wrists in a show of unity before exchanging swords and getting back up on their feet. Sheathing the sword that had killed his brother at Harlaw, Robert felt a chill run up his spine and closed his eyes, remembering the horror of that day, the sight of his brother’s blood spilling from his body and staining the green fields red. It would never leave his mind. But life moved forward and, as laird, it was Robert’s duty to make certain it did.

  “As long as ye hold my father’s sword, ye can be certain that the Macleans are allies of the Irvines,” Lachlan said slowly as he sheathed Robert’s sword. “I dinnae wish to be run through by my father’s own sword and I ken ye dinnae wish to be run through by yers, so we shall forever ken there is peace.”

  “Aye,” Robert replied and breathed deeply, hearing Reginald and William stepping forward to flank him in solidarity, knowing he had made the right decision for his people. Reginald smacked him on the back and Robert looked at his brother, nodding in understanding. Alexander died in a battle that should never have happened, led by greedy men with selfish desires. Hopefully, with Robert leading the way, such events would be avoided in the future. Nay, war was always inevitable, but should it occur, Robert prayed there was solidarity amongst his fellow Scots, never against them in vain.

  “Ye have traveled far to be here,” Robert said to Lachlan, looking at his score of men behind him, all wrapped in plaids and covered in filth.

  “Nay journey is too far if it is in the name of peace,” Lachlan added. “The Donald is a madman. He will continue to cause trouble in the Highlands, mark my words. My father was little better, I am saddened to admit. The Macleans wish to prove our honor, to show that we will only fight the battles worth fighting. We are mighty warriors and wish to use that might for right.”

  Grunting, Robert grinned. “Och, I ken ye are a mighty lot. I have heard tales and seen the proof.”

  “Tales of yer brother have spread, as well. He was a fine man and an able warrior. The bards have been singing his praises with ballads across the land. Have ye heard them?”

  “Nay. I have heard rumor of such ballads, yet havenae heard any, myself,” Robert said, feeling pride consume him for his brother who may be gone, but whose legend lived on.

  “I would be honored to share a ballad or two with ye sometime, should our people break bread.”

  “Why not break bread now? As I said, ye have traveled far to be here. My wedding is due to occur in two days’ time. I shall marry Elizabeth Keith, sister to William Keith, Marischal of Scotland,” Robert said, signaling to William who tilted his head in greeting to Lachlan. “She is also Alexander’s widow.”

  “And my wife for a day,” Reginald said with a chuckle and a wink.

  “Och, are ye wanting me to kill ye now or later, Reg?” William growled and scowled in his direction.

  Lachlan looked between the three men and raised a curious brow but must have decided against asking any questions. “Many thanks for the offer. My men and I would be honored to attend.”

  “Elizabeth and I will be honored to have ye. Follow us back to the castle and we will have the Lady of Drum make ye all most comfortable.” Giving the signal to his men in the distance that all was well, Robert walked back toward Drum with the Macleans of Duart following in his wake, the sword that killed his brother sheathed at his side, a bride awaiting him within the tower, and wondering if Alex was watching him now, laughing his arse off at all the unexpected turns in Robert’s life.

  “What is happening?” Elizabeth asked, watching Robert kneel in the grass with his sword in front of him from the slit windows in the tower.

  Marta Gordon bumped Elizabeth aside slightly so she could reach up on her tiptoes and view the scene. She had been at the castle for a couple of days and would likely remain for Elizabeth’s marriage to Robert, yet the lass seemed jovial and kind – not at all affected by being brushed aside and left without a marriage proposal, though she did talk faster than Elizabeth could understand much of the time. “Och! They are exchanging swords! I have seen this but only once before. It isnae so common, ye ken. Feuds can be quite nasty. Ye ken, we Gordons have rivalries with both the Lindsays and the Douglas’ we do.”

  Tilda looked at Marta and rolled her eyes, making Elizabeth bite her lower lip to prevent from giggling. But fortunately, Marta did not notice and, truthfully, Elizabeth found the lass quite daft, yet harmless.

  Throat burning from screaming Robert’s name only a moment ago, Elizabeth rubbed her neck and watched as the men stood up and clasped hands before sheathing swords. The pounding in her heart would not cease. For a moment, she had been certain a battle was going to break out with Robert and her brother caught unprepared. The fear had gripped at her, making her feel faint and shaky.

  Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth gasped and turned to look at the other women and children huddled around inside the tower, silently awaiting news.

  “What it is, my lady?” an elderly woman said with a shaky voice and all eyes stared at her with fear and curiosity. In that moment, she looked around the tower and realized for the first time that she truly was the lady of this castle, of these people. She may be a Keith, but the Irvines were her people. All of the women and children were looking at her for answers, for protection. And more than anything, she wanted to be there for them every day and make certain they knew that she was strong enough to protect the castle and its people when danger arose.

  “They are talking! And…” Elizabeth turned once more to look out the window. “And, walking toward the castle!” A loud whistle resounded and Elizabeth gripped her chest. “’Tis his signal that all is well!”

  Marta and Tilda ran to the window and gasped in unison. “They are coming here?” Tilda asked?

  Mary stood up and slowly walked toward the window. “Aye. They are. Yer brother appears… happy!” Mary said to Elizabeth and grunted. “I havenae seen the man smile since he arrived at Drum. Mayhap I didnae ken he even had teeth!”

  “Och! What shall we do, my lady?” Cook asked, wringing her hands in her apron. “I cannae stand to feed an army!”

  “’Tis but a score of men. We shall make do, Cook,” Elizabeth said calmly. “But we cannae make plans until we ken what is happening. I want ye all to stay here. Dinnae leave this room until I come back. Mary, when I leave, I need ye to bar the door and dinnae let anyone in until I say so.”

  Mary nodded and the room went silent once more. Opening the door, Elizabeth took a few slow steps down the stairs until she was out of view and heard the tower door slam shut behind her. Picking up her pace and lifting her skirts, Elizabeth sped down the stairs, heart pounding and breath quickening. For one horrible moment, she thought she was going to lose Robert. The sight of a sword being drawn before him would never leave her memory. She had to see him and Will, had to find out what was happening and make certain everything was all right. Robert woul
d be upset that she put herself in danger, but she could not simply sit idly by while the potential enemy walked toward the keep.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Elizabeth bolted to the entrance and heard the ancient hinges of the door creak as she yanked it open and ran into the inner bailey and past the stables. Dusk had set and a chill crept up her legs with every swift stride toward the outer bailey and the gates leading out of the grounds, but she was determined to reach the men with haste. Her nerves could no longer stand the unknown.

  Just as she reached the outer bailey, voices floated toward her on the breeze and Robert, William, and Reginald rounded a corner, a strange large man by Robert’s side.

  “Robert!” Elizabeth yelled, nearly out of breath as she ran even faster toward him, knowing in that moment that everything was going to be all right. She had no idea what had happened and knew she would get answers, but Robert was safe, as was her brother and Reginald and that was all that mattered. The women and children were safe in the tower and no blood would spill.

  Reaching his side, she jumped just as his arms reached out to her and she embraced him, burrowing her head into the crook of his neck and inhaling his familiar scent. “Lizzie, what are ye doing out of the tower, love?”

  “I was so scared,” she whispered, forcing back tears. “For all of ye,” she added, running to William next and kissing him on the cheek. “We could see everything from above and I thought I would lose ye for a wee moment. I have never been so scared.”

  “All is well, lass,” Reginald said and she smiled at him warmly, clutching her rosary in her palm.

  Clearing her throat and regaining her composure when she saw the other men staring at her curiously, she ran her hands over her skirts and looked at Robert. “What is happening here? Who are these men?”

  Taking her hand, Robert turned her toward the large man she had seen draw his sword from the tower. “Elizabeth, this is Lachlan Maclean.”

  “Maclean?” she gasped and pulled back. “But… a Maclean killed Alex!”

  “Aye, that man was my father,” Lachlan said slowly, sadness in his eyes. “We want no more battles between clans. We have both lost enough and only wish for peace. Ye must be the Lady of Drum.”

  “Aye. I am Alexander’s widow,” she said hesitantly, unsure how much these men could be trusted and gripped Robert’s hand tighter. She trusted his judgment yet allowing the son of the man who killed Alexander into their home was unexpected.

  A forlorn expression washed over Lachlan’s face and he dropped to his knees, bowing his head and taking her hand. “My lady, I cannae say how sorry I am that ye lost yer husband in battle to my father. If I could make it up to ye, I would. The best I can offer is peace and the promise that we shall never stand across the battlefield from yer people ever again.”

  Emotion choked at Elizabeth. She felt his grief and regret keenly and knew all too well that a man went where commanded to go. Pulling her gaze away from the stricken man still kneeling before her, Elizabeth looked behind him and saw the tired, bedraggled men all wearing the Maclean plaids and realized they all truly looked like they needed hot meals, baths, rest, and a warm welcome. They were not men who had come to start a fight.

  Elizabeth trusted Robert’s judgment on the situation. Looking at these men and hearing Lachlan’s plea, Elizabeth sighed, relying on her instincts and making her first major decision as the Lady of Drum. Taking Robert’s hand to show a united front, Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and looked down at Lachlan. “Ye are verra welcome to Drum Castle. The Irvines and Keiths will be celebrating our marriage and peace between our people. We wish to have peace with ye, as well. Our clans have had enough of wars with fellow Scotsmen.”

  “Thank ye, my lady.” Relief washed over Lachlan’s features as he kissed her hand and got back onto his feet. Nodding, Elizabeth turned toward Drum with Robert by her side as William, Reginald, and a score of men who had once been their enemies now followed them into their home.

  Night had set in and stars shimmered in the sky above as a haze of clouds blocked them out intermittently while the wind blew Elizabeth’s dress around her ankles. Feeling Robert wrap his plaid around her shoulders, Elizabeth looked up and felt her stomach tighten and her heart lighten as pure love shone back at her in his blue eyes. “Now ye have an Irvine plaid of yer own,” he said with a wink, his dimple making her wish to kiss him as soon as they were in private. How she loved this man. Never had she wanted nor expected to find love in this lifetime but now that she had found it, she would be certain to never take it for granted again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Laughter reverberated off the walls of the keep as the hearth fire raged and the minstrels began to play. Serving women took away the empty trenchers and Elizabeth sat back in her wooden chair, feeling fuller than she had in a long time. Looking around the room, she saw Irvines, Keiths, and Macleans dancing and chatting together, all there to celebrate her marriage to Robert and the beginning of peace.

  Her light blue silk dress was threaded with silver that sparkled in the light of the fire, as did the adoring blue eyes she felt watching her to her right. Looking up, she caught Robert’s gaze and felt gooseflesh climb up her arms. He looked so handsome in his white tunic with a black leather surcoat and Irvine plaid draped over his shoulder, almost like one of the heroes from the love stories she had heard growing up. She never believed in such tales, and yet she could easily write one now about her own journey in love. A maiden passed untouched from father, to son, to son, finally finding happiness.

  A smirk spread across her face and Robert wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as the laughter from a large Maclean warrior boomed across the hall, speaking with an Irvine in the corner. “What are ye smiling about, Wife? Ye seem far away, yet amused.” Placing his lips on the long column of her throat, he gave her neck a gentle nip that sent shocks of pleasure through her body and caused her to shift in her seat.

  “I was only thinking about my intense desire to avoid the verra situation I now find myself in,” she laughed, then sighed when he flicked his tongue across her sensitive flesh.

  “Ye mean, this?” he asked, nipping her neck once more.

  “Well, aye. That is quite nice, but I meant falling in love, wanting to marry a man for more than duty. ’Tis nothing I ever expected and, yet, all I have ever needed. I love ye, Robert.”

  “I love ye, Lizzie. And everyone else loves ye, as well. Look around. Three rival clans are all here together and ’tis because of ye.”

  “It most certainly isnae,” she scoffed. “I made a mess of everything. And the arrival of the Macleans had naught to do with me.”

  “Mayhap not, but they stayed because of ye, because of our love, because we have united two clans and the Macleans wished to attend and ye graciously accepted them as the Lady of Drum.”

  “The Macleans wanted food, ale, and baths,” Elizabeth added wryly, raising a brow at Robert who shrugged and nodded.

  “Aye, mayhap that, too. Do ye ken what I want?” he whispered softly, leaning close to her ear and making her shiver with delight. How did he do that to her? The barest of touches and the softest of whispers made her feel as if she were floating away to the heavens.

  “Nay. I dinnae ken,” she whispered in return, her stomach fluttering with excitement.

  “I wish to take my wife upstairs and finish what we started on the battlements.” Robert placed his hand on her thigh under the table and Elizabeth felt flushed as if the hearth fire had taken over the keep entirely. The mischief in his eyes and the dimple on his cheek as a sly grin spread across his face made her squirm in her seat, remembering how he had made her feel and desperate to feel it once more.

  “Oh, aye?” Her voice sounded breathless even to herself and she knew he noticed, as well. She wished very much for the same, but the hall was filled with people who would notice if they left for their chamber and embarrass her with bawdy remarks.

  “I ken what ye are thinking, love.
There is no way around it. They will be awaiting our departure and they will make remarks to embarrass ye. ’Tis simply the way of it. I say we make a run for it,” he suggested, lightly tugging on her arm to prompt her to stand. “If we move fast enough, we will make it to the stairs before we can hear most of their jests.”

  Tapping her fingers on the table, Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip and shuffled her feet, gathering the courage to bolt from the table. She knew she should stay a wee bit longer, but the feast was over and the crowd was entertaining itself, telling stories and dancing. If she had any chance of getting away, it was now. “Aye. Let’s go!” she said in a rush, feeling excitement run through her. Grabbing her hand with a wide smile and a wink, Robert swiftly stood from his chair, pulling her up with him.

  “Och! I forgot to share the Ballad of Gude Sir Alexander Irvine!” Lachlan shouted above the music, making the minstrels stop playing their instruments immediately and all eyes land on Robert, who stood frozen in the position to flee.

  “This didnae work,” Elizabeth said through the side of her lips, feeling like a wee lass caught with her finger stuck in an apple pie.

  “Where do ye think ye are sneaking off to, aye?” Reginald hollered from a bench down below where he sat beside Mary and Tilda with a grin across his face.

  “I believe I ken where they were going,” Mary responded with a chuckle. “It willnae be long until we have an heir.”

  “Och, do leave them alone,” Tilda said, standing up and putting her hands on her hips defiantly. Just as Elizabeth vowed to do any favor Tilda ever asked, her companion smirked and wagged her finger. “After all, ’tis clear they meant to sneak out unnoticed and abandon us all to finally disrobe one another.”

  “Tilda!” Elizabeth squeaked, knowing she was turning bright red but having no control over the blood rushing to her cheeks. The crowd laughed and started making crude gestures. Scanning the crowd, Elizabeth spotted William who stood beside Lachlan looking uncomfortable yet resigned to the inevitable. Locking a pleading gaze on him, Elizabeth gripped her pearl rosary and hoped he saved her from the attention.