After entering the cozy room Elspeth had used off and on since she was sixteen summers, Cyrus gently deposited her on the large four-poster bed. When he started to draw away, she caught his hand and squeezed it. "I thank you," she whispered.
He lifted her hand and kissed the back, his eyes still shadowed with concern.
"I'll be fine," she assured him. "Could you make certain the other lairds feel welcome since I cannot be downstairs at the moment?"
"Aye. I'll be back in a few minutes to check on you." He gave a brief bow and left.
"I'm so sorry to see you were injured, m'lady." Mistress Almsly moved toward the doorway. Her lady's maid, Bernice, rushed in just before she closed the door.
When the two women wondered at her sooty, torn and muddy clothing and her injuries, Elspeth explained what had happened during the last several hours. Though the women appeared angry about her injuries from being abducted, they were stunned speechless at the loss of Darby Hall.
"Oh, m'lady, your beautiful home." Bernice blinked back tears.
"I know." Elspeth felt the loss deeply. "But we're all safe. That's what matters."
Her maid nodded. "Of course. Thank the saints you survived the ordeal. And I'm glad you have a good outlook."
"Aye. I can either live here or rebuild."
What would she do next? So much had happened, and her life had changed so drastically, she knew not what the future held. Regardless, she was determined to make the best of it.
The healer and the maid fussed over her and helped her undress. She could not have been more grateful. She had missed them both.
Her swollen knee was an angry shade of violet. 'Twould soon be black and blue, she knew. She was glad when Mistress Almsly determined she had no broken bones.
"I will mix up a comfrey poultice for it to reduce the bruising." The healer then examined her neck. "What happened here?"
"Dalacroy's guard, Campbell, wrenched it when he slapped me."
"Och. What a knave! He deserves the dungeon for severely mistreating a kind lady such as you."
"Cyrus said—" Elspeth snapped her mouth shut. "I mean... Laird Stornmor said he intended to slap the man down."
Mistress Almsly chuckled. "Aye. Good. His lairdship is a fine man. So protective over you, is he not?" She raised a brow. "He's a mite smitten with you, m'lady."
Elspeth's face heated as she grinned. "'Haps I'm smitten with him as well."
"I knew it!" Mistress Almsly beamed a bright smile. "'Tis high time you found happiness. You deserve it."
"Well, naught may come of it." Elspeth shrugged. When she visualized Lady Lily, gloominess overshadowed her. "He is an earl after all. He'll want a highborn lady."
"Humph. If he's a canny man, he will see that you are the finest lady in all the land."
A loud knock sounded at the door and they all jumped. "Lady Grey?" Cyrus's deep voice resonated from the corridor.
"I'll need a bit more time!" she called out, hoping he wouldn't enter until she was washed, dressed and tidied. Bernice was attempting to untangle the snarled mess her hair had become.
"You're all right then?" he responded.
"Aye. I should be more presentable within an hour's time."
"Very well."
Moments later, a lighter knock sounded.
"Who is it?"
"Smith, m'lady." Greymont's housekeeper.
"Come in." Elspeth did indeed need to talk to her.
Once the wiry, gray-haired woman curtsied and stood beside the bed, Elspeth inquired about how things were proceeding.
"The maids are serving ale and refreshments to the lairds and soldiers. We're all a wee bit thunderstruck to have a marquess, two earls, and a chief visiting all at once." Exhilaration lit her blue eyes.
Elspeth grinned. "There has been very little excitement here over the past several years."
"Indeed."
"Have the kitchen staff cook a large stew and bake two dozen loaves of bread."
"They have already begun, m'lady. They heard you were injured and took it upon themselves to start preparing whatever was in the storerooms. It may not be such a fancy meal, but no one will starve."
"Cook is resourceful. Every dish I've tasted of hers has been delicious." Elspeth's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.
Smith's eyes widened. "Heavens, you must be starving. When I get back to the kitchen, I'll send some food up."
"I would appreciate it."
"The chambermaids are preparing rooms for the lairds. They were already clean, but they're giving them a wee tidying up and stocking the whisky."
"Good. Make certain Laird Kilverntay is given the Stewart room." Though it was the best room in this castle, it couldn't compare to the ones at grander estates. Elspeth named off two additional well-appointed chambers on the same corridor for Rebbie and Dirk. Fortunately, Greymont had a good-sized barracks, as well as the great hall, for the clansmen and soldiers to sleep in.
"Give Laird Stornmor the Duisdale room," Elspeth said.
"Very good. Do you require anything else?"
"Nay. I thank you."
Smith curtsied and hastened out.
'Haps Elspeth should feel scandalous for assigning Cyrus a room next door to her own, but she wanted him close by.
AS CYRUS DESCENDED the steps into the bailey, he noticed Irving and MacNeil close-by.
"Thank the saints you're both alive." He gave each of them a warrior handshake. "Were you hurt badly in that skirmish several days ago?"
"We were both knocked out and had a few cuts and stab wounds," Irving said. "I awoke first, put MacNeil on a horse and headed toward Castle Rebbinglen... at least I thought I was. But my thinking was awry, and I lost my way. Fortunately, MacNeil came to the next morn and somehow, we managed to get back on the right road. We were surprised when Norval came upon us only a few miles from the castle."
"I know now I shouldn't have sent you after Fraser. I put you in danger needlessly, and I apologize for that."
Both men eyed Cyrus as if he'd gone barmy. He knew, he rarely showed regret for anything, but when he was wrong, he owned up to it.
"No apology needed, Chief," MacNeil said gruffly. "'Tis our sworn duty to protect you and your brothers."
"You're good men." Cyrus would have to think of a way to reward them, well... all his guards really, for they had gone above and beyond in this endeavor.
Across the way, Cyrus noticed Talbot sitting on a stone bench near the barracks, his hands bound behind his back and a MacKenzie guard on either side. "Has the solicitor revealed anything?"
MacNeil shook his head.
"Not that we know of," Irving said.
"I'm going to talk to him."
Dirk, Rebbie, and Kilverntay joined him.
"You're a witness to what happened here this day, Talbot," Cyrus said. "Go against me and you'll regret it. Your practice is in jeopardy as it is."
His wide-eyed gaze darting back and forth among the men, the solicitor blanched. "I had no inkling Laird Dalacroy intended murder."
"But you knew he intended to steal property from a lady under the guise of a legal transaction."
Talbot pressed his thin lips together and hung his head.
"Escort him to the dungeon," Cyrus told his two clansmen.
They nodded and led the man away.
"I'll have several of my men take him to Stirling tomorrow along with a missive," Kilverntay said. "The authorities there will decide his fate."
"I appreciate that." Cyrus knew the marquess would deal with him fairly.
"I'm glad you weren't injured in this mess, Stornmor." Kilverntay remained beside him while Dirk and Rebbie headed toward the stables.
Cyrus needed to have a private conversation with the marquess, but the man would surely be angry when Cyrus told him he could not marry Lady Lily.
"I'm glad to see you're unharmed, too, sire."
"Aye, well, Robert won't allow me near the action anymore. He thinks I'm a decrepit old man a
nd surrounds me with a dozen bodyguards."
Cyrus clenched his teeth to keep from laughing outright, for Kilverntay was anything but decrepit. He was in his fifties, but still fit and hearty. "He's a good son."
Kilverntay chuckled and nodded. "How is Lady Grey?"
"The healer is seeing to her injuries."
"'Tis a great shame she was hurt by that miscreant. Tell her I hope she recovers quickly."
Cyrus nodded. "I want to thank you for bringing reinforcements to help us in defeating Dalacroy."
"Always glad to help out a friend and ally."
Cyrus was glad the marquess thought of him thusly. He hoped that would continue even after he conveyed his latest decision.
"As an eye witness, I'll report the events to the Privy Council," Kilverntay said. "They'll want to know how the Earl of Dalacroy met his demise."
No doubt there would be an investigation and Cyrus would likely be questioned. But with so many witnesses, surely he would not be implicated.
"I'm certain you will give me the rest of the details," Kilverntay said.
"Of course." Cyrus much preferred honesty in everything, but he was unconvinced that anyone needed to know about Elspeth's liaison with the elder Earl of Dalacroy or Henry's true motives for trying to steal the properties. As soon as possible, he needed to inform Kilverntay that he could not marry his daughter. "Could we talk inside?"
"Indeed."
Cyrus proceeded up the steps and into the great hall. Several clansmen and soldiers were gathered, drinking ale. He spotted Morrison, Elspeth's squat steward, nearby.
The man bowed. "So good to see you again, m'laird."
Cyrus introduced the marquess, standing beside him, prompting the steward to bow even deeper. "'Tis my greatest honor to meet you, m'laird."
Cyrus glanced around the great hall. "Morrison, is there a room where we might have a private meeting?"
"Of course. The library." The steward quickly waddled forward and opened a door. "You will find whisky on the side table."
"I appreciate it."
Once they were inside the wood-paneled room, lit by a narrow west-facing window, Morrison closed the door on his way out.
Cyrus headed for the side table. "Would you care for Scotch?"
"Aye. In fact, I require it." Kilverntay laughed.
Cyrus felt fortunate that the older man was in good spirits. Mayhap he would not be too angry by the close of the meeting.
After pouring two small glasses of whisky, he handed one to the marquess.
"To a good outcome of a bad situation." Kilverntay raised his glass. "Slàinte mhath."
"Indeed. Slàinte mhath." Cyrus sipped the whisky. "I appreciate your willingness to meet with me. Would you care to sit?" He motioned toward a group of chairs near the hearth.
"Glad to." Kilverntay took a seat. "What's on your mind?"
Cyrus joined him. "I've considered it for several days, and I've come to a difficult decision. I don't do this lightly."
"Go on."
"Though Lady Lily is lovely in every way, I find that I cannot marry her. I'm not going to be able to sign the betrothal contract."
"Oh." Kilverntay's brows shot up. "Well, no harm." He waved a hand, then sipped his drink.
Cyrus eyed him, wondering at his bewildering response. He had expected the man to be annoyed at the very least.
"You're not angry?"
"Nay. In fact, there's something I should tell you, too. I was unsure how to do it, but you've made it easy. My daughter told me before I left that she didn't wish to marry you."
Stunned speechless, Cyrus was about to ask why when Kilverntay went on.
"I pray you will not feel insulted. She has turned down dozens of men." Kilverntay shrugged. "When she told me she didn't wish to marry you, I told her she didn't have any choice in the matter. I didn't mean it. Just testing the waters, you ken. She said, Mother will be hearing of this! Then she stormed from the room." Kilverntay shook his head. "Wishing now I hadn't coddled the wee hellion so much."
Cyrus frowned. "Do you think she might run away?"
"Nay," Kilverntay scoffed. "The lass cannot even buckle her own boots. I figure she will be an old maid. I cannot for the life of me force her to marry anyone she doesn't want to."
"I'm sure she will find a man to her liking someday."
"One can only hope he is a baron or laird at the very least. Why was it you decided against the match?"
"I plan to ask Lady Grey to marry me." Cyrus's heart rate increased at the idea that, if she would have him, she would become Lady Stornmor. He could not believe how much he looked forward to it.
"Aha! So I didn't imagine that spark I thought I saw between you."
Cyrus shook his head. "We're well suited. When I thought she was in that burning house..." He closed his eyes against the horrid images. He didn't think he could've survived the loss.
"I understand. 'Twas how I felt about my first wife. Robert's mother. She was the finest jewel."
Cyrus was surprised at the emotion on the older man's face as he stared down into his whisky.
"I tried to find a woman to replace her, but there was no one. Of course, my current wife is a fine lady. She lives her life; I live mine. Our children are our main concern."
Cyrus nodded, fully realizing he would've been miserable with such an arrangement. He was thankful Elspeth saved him from a wretched existence. He now grasped what Isobel, Dirk, Rebbie, and the rest of them had tried to tell him. The feeling he had when he was next to Elspeth was addictive. The most seductive, alluring emotion he had ever experienced. She was all he could think about.
"Regardless, I hope we can continue this alliance of friendship," Kilverntay said.
"I'd be most honored. I couldn't ask for a better ally."
"You have accomplished a great deal for a man so young. I admire your ambition and your strength. 'Tis Lily's loss, I say."
Cyrus was humbled at such high praise. "I appreciate that."
"I wager Robert will have a good laugh over this." Kilverntay grinned. "He thinks everyone should have a love match, and he will be happy about yours."
"Well, I simply hope he isn't angry about it."
"Nay, he won't be, but you may be in for a fair bit of ribbing."
"I'm certain everyone will torment me over changing my mind, especially my brothers." But Cyrus didn't care. He would smile through it if Elspeth was by his side. He arose and poured two more drams of whisky.
"How about another toast?" Kilverntay raised his glass. "To your upcoming nuptials."
"If she accepts." Cyrus clinked his glass against Kilverntay's, then drank, all the while hoping Elspeth would not turn him down.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A while later, the soot and mud had been cleaned from Elspeth's skin, her hair washed, dried, and pinned up, and her clothing changed, thanks to Bernice. She sat in bed with several pillows behind her back and a cold, wet comfrey poultice on her knee beneath the covers.
A loud knock sounded on the door, causing her to jump and almost spill her mint and willow bark tea.
"Och. Careful, m'lady." Mistress Almsly steadied her cup. "I will go prepare the salve for your neck whilst you visit with his lairdship."
"I appreciate your help. Both of you." Elspeth smiled at Bernice and Mistress Almsly.
"M'lady." They curtsied and filed from the room, just before Cyrus entered. Immediately, she noticed he'd washed up and changed into clean clothes. He must have borrowed them from his friends or clansmen. Candlelight gleamed off his damp hair. She was glad he'd made himself at home.
His midnight gaze locked on her as he closed the door. "How are you feeling?"
"Much better." She felt herself warming under his intent scrutiny.
"I don't ken how you manage to look so beautiful after such a grueling ordeal." He sat on the chair by the bed.
She smiled, appreciating his compliment all the more because she knew he didn't try to flatter or charm. "Me? What abo
ut you, handsome?"
He glanced down at his clothes. "A clean plaid does wonders for a man. But you... I could stare at you all day."
Her face heated. "You're too kind."
His brows quirked. "No one else seems to think so."
She chuckled.
A hint of amusement softened his expression. "I'm glad to see you're not too upset over this mess."
"I'm trying not to think about it. But I know when I go back to Darby, I'll be devastated. The realization that I've lost my home will hit me hard." A sheen of tears burned her eyes. "I cannot believe 'tis gone. I loved living there."
Cyrus observed her solemnly. "You'll come to live with me."
"What?" A shock wave whipped through her, making her think of scandal and disgrace. "I cannot—"
"After we wed," he blurted.
She could not believe the words coming out of his mouth. Surely she'd misunderstood. Realizing her mouth was gaping, she closed it. "Did you say... wed?"
"Aye." Amusement glinting in his spellbinding dark eyes, he knelt on one knee beside her bed. "I have no ring to offer you now, but will you be my bride, Elspeth?"
Joy and astonishment surged within her. 'Twas indeed her fondest dream. "But... but what about Lady Lily? I'm not a marquess's daughter."
"I realize now that matters not at all," Cyrus admitted. "I told Kilverntay I cannot marry his daughter."
Cyrus was much relieved that was behind him.
But Elspeth still appeared stunned. "You did? Already?"
"Aye. We met in the library a short while ago. Kilverntay wasn't angry. He said Lady Lily did not wish to marry me either. So, it worked out for all involved."
Her gaze still troubled, Elspeth searched his face. He wondered at her hesitation. Had he misread her interest in him?
"What about Greymont and my shops?" she asked.
So that was it. Cyrus relaxed a bit. "You will keep all of your properties for your son. I have no need of them."
"In truth?" She gaped at him in wonder... or was it shock?
"Of course. I'm not the greedy knave everyone thinks I am."
"But I thought you wanted to amass extensive amounts of property and wealth for your clan."
"I will, but some other way. All I want is..." He took her hand into his. "For you to be by my side forevermore, my partner in life, the mother of my future children, the holder of my complete trust... and my heart."
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