Like a Laird to a Flame

by Pride, Mia

  “Oh?” William wondered if Matilda’s scheming had rubbed off on his sister while she had been here at Drum. “What have ye in mind?”

  “We have many Keiths and Irvines here for the Yuletide and twelve days to fill. I do believe a winter tournament will entertain all the clans and the winner receives the hand of the Black Douglas’ daughter.”

  Pursing his lips, he had to admit it was a clever plan and one that removed all the pressure on him to wed the lass. She would thrive with all the attention put on her. “’Tis a good plan if the Douglas doesnae see it for what it is: a ploy to free me and Reg of her incessant whining.”

  “I am most certain he is aware of his daughter’s behaviors. I do believe, if we plan this well enough, he will be glad to be rid of her just as ye are.”

  William was not so certain, but he was willing to allow his sister to scheme this one time if it benefited him and allowed him to do what he needed. Mary came from a good family and would make a good Lady of Dunnottar. She was obviously fertile and would soon birth him an heir to claim. If it was not for the child being Alexander’s, William was not certain he would be so keen to claim it, but it was important to his sister and Robert would be the child’s uncle, so it was well enough to protect the bairn and his mother.

  William ran a hand through his tangled hair and threw his sodden tunic over his bare shoulder, deciding it was best to find his chamber and take a bath before attempting to speak with Mary, a task he already dreaded.

  Looking at his sister, William rubbed his short beard and raised a brow. “I wish ye good fortune dealing with Archibald. But something tells me I am the one in need of fortune, for I dinnae ken if Mary will accept me or injure me.”

  “I will ken when next I see ye if yer lip is bloodied and yer nose is crooked.” Elizabeth smiled widely and bounced on her toes before walking toward the tower stairs, most certainly to find Robert’s solar and start her scheming.

  Arriving early to the hall before the evening meal was to begin for the first night of Yule, Mary stood in front of the hearth, watching the Yule log burn with flickering flames of orange and blue while rubbing her hands to warm her chilled bones. It seemed she was either on fire or half-frozen these days, and though she had a few sennights left before she expected to deliver her child, she feared it was coming sooner than expected.

  Hundreds of people would be gathering in the hall soon and she had seen Cook preparing a sumptuous meal of roasted boar, pheasant, swan, and more sweetmeats, loaves of bread, and pies than she could count. The hall smelled of a mixture of herbs from both the rushes below her feet and the hanging evergreens all around. This was her favorite time of year, and yet, without Alex, it felt dreary and cheerless. Rubbing her belly, she thanked God for the miracle resting within her womb, for without their child, Mary would be truly bereft.

  “My lady. May I have a word?” Looking over her shoulder, Mary saw William standing behind her, his hair still damp, and a pleasant scent of cloves lingering around him. His short beard appeared freshly groomed and his crisp tunic was covered by a fine leather jerkin with his Keith plaid draped over his shoulder.

  Licking her lips nervously, Mary took a deep breath and scanned his features, suddenly glad she had put on her best gown for the festivities. Matilda had insisted she wear the emerald green silk gown provided for her, the hem let out to accommodate her swollen abdomen and the laces facing the back. The modest neckline did well enough to support her breasts since a corset was an impossibility, but she admitted that she was pleased with the fit and her hazel eyes had appeared greener than ever against the green fabric. Hair done up with intricate braids and wrapped around her head masterfully, Mary decided she needed to thank Matilda for making certain she looked like a human and not a bovine for the evening.

  “Sir William,” she replied, looking down to avoid eye contact. “Ye may.” Her heart pounded against her ribs, not certain why he was willingly approaching her, especially after having fought with Reginald over Marjorie. If he had decided not to extend an offer of marriage to her, it would be best if he simply avoided her altogether. It was not that she pined for an offer, but after having spoken with Elizabeth and realizing her dire situation, Mary had finally realized that a husband was, indeed, necessary to keep her and her child in good graces with her family. And, while William was not a man she easily tolerated, he was her best option. If he did not offer for her, Mary would likely be matched with a less savory man. At least William was clean and had all his teeth.

  Aside from a few servants wandering in and out from behind the screens, they were alone in the hall, which would serve her well when he rejected her. “Ye look beautiful.”

  Blinking, Mary chewed her bottom lip nervously, supposing he was using flattery to soften the blow. But her pride would not allow him to believe her fragile or desperate. “I thank ye, Sir William, but ye dinnae need to use sweet words to soften me to what ye need to say.”

  His features hardened and his spine straightened. He was a large man, much taller than her, and her gaze moved upward, suddenly focusing on the leaves hanging over the hearth, directly above their heads. He noticed it when she did and he cursed. More damned mistletoe. Elizabeth had made certain to cover the bloody hall in the ridiculous plant. “Ye make everything bloody difficult, do ye not ken this?” he asked with clear indignance. “I paid ye a compliment. Can ye accept it for what it is?”

  “Nay, not when I ken ye are simply attempting to stroke my ego before insulting me.”

  “Insulting ye? I dinnae realize ye saw it that way. I willnae insult yer verra existence any further with mine. Good evening, my lady.” William bowed stiffly and turned on his heels, storming toward the double doors leading outside before she could get another word in. He was certainly angry for a man who had been prepared to turn her down for a spoiled, whiny lass. Had she insulted him by not allowing him to insult her first?

  Scoffing to herself, Mary turned back around to face the fire, feeling sick to her stomach and wishing she could simply stop being so confrontational all the cursed time. She was not usually this way, but William simply drove her mad and her aching ribs and feet did not help matters. She had been sleeping poorly and was moodier than usual. Still, that was not his doing nor his fault. She cursed herself for not simply accepting his compliment. No man had told her she was beautiful since Alex had passed, and mayhap hearing it from another hurt too much, reminding her that he was not here to tell her such things himself.

  She was a fool. No man would warm to an angry lass and she would not warm to a woman who behaved in such a way, either. Deciding to tamp down her cursed pride and apologize for her behavior, Mary turned to follow Will but squealed when she collided with a body, feeling herself being propelled backward toward the fire.

  Strong hands reached out to grab her, and she landed safely in a pair of muscular arms, feeling a wall of strength surrounding her. Heart in her throat, Mary heaved for breath as she opened her eyes, realizing how close she had come to the flames.

  Golden eyes filled with concern looked down at her and she realized the strong arms that had saved her belonged to the very man she had just insulted and chased away.

  “Will… I…” he frowned and searched her face, making her flush beneath his scrutiny. “Ye saved me.”

  “I am afraid I nearly killed ye. I am verra sorry, my lady.” Still holding her in his arms, she realized how strongly she still clutched to him, but her legs shook beneath her, her body and mind still reeling from the thought that she could have been set aflame had he not reacted quick enough.

  “Ye came back,” she whispered.

  “Aye.” He hovered over her and she felt his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath and she realized he had been as frightened as she had been. It had been one second in time, but some seconds seem to last forever when the mind is fearful.

  “Why? Why did ye come back?”

  “Because what I have to say is of great importance and… well, ’tis
bad fortune to stand beneath mistletoe and not… kiss.” His mouth was close to hers, too close. She felt his warm, sweet breath fanning her face and she licked her lips, suddenly wondering why they felt so dry.

  “Oh? Is it?” she asked softly.

  “Ye did almost die just now,” he responded.

  “Aye, but only because I ran into ye.”

  “Still, it isnae safe to tempt fate.” His lips hovered over hers, so close she could almost feel him on her. He surrounded her and, surprisingly, she was not afraid of the odd sensations he stirred within her.

  “What…” she stopped and swallowed hard, finding it hard to breathe through the rapid beating of her heart. “What were ye going to say to me before I chased ye away like a shrew?”

  His lips parted with a smile and she caught her breath. Aye, he indeed has all his teeth, a rare find these days. “Before I say what I wish to, I fear we are still in danger of misfortune. Mayhap we should… just to be certain…”

  “Kiss?” Mary finished for him, feeling light in the head and on her feet, for William very nearly held her up by the waist as she clung to his arms.

  “’Tis really the only way. I will need fortune on my side for what I have to say.”

  “Oh?” Mary wondered if he was afraid she would box his ears once he informed her that he had chosen to wed with Marjorie. That thought made her giggle slightly, and yet ache at the same time. She had never asked for, nor wanted, their first kiss. Yet here they were now, dancing around the next. This time, both wished for the same outcome yet were too afraid to acknowledge it.

  “Well, I dare say I need all the fortune I can get.” Licking her lips one last time, Mary slowly leaned in, closing the distance between them, gently placing her lips on his. When he dipped her backward in his arms, she breathed deeply and wrapped her arms around his neck to support herself. His mouth opened slightly and she followed his lead, unsure exactly how much fortune he was hoping to gain.

  When his tongue gently slipped into her mouth, her stomach clenched with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. This was no ordinary kiss beneath the mistletoe. Her tongue slid against his and he groaned softly, a sound that sent a wave of pleasure up her neck.

  This had been a mistake. Mary was not sure what had come over her, but William was about to tell her he was marrying another woman. And though it had been several months since she’d felt companionship or had been held by a man, kissing William was an act of desperation and she suddenly felt foolish.

  Pulling away, Mary panted, trying to catch her breath while she looked down, not wishing to make eye contact with the one man who somehow attracted her one moment and made her furious the next for no apparent reason. One look at him and she may lose her senses all over again.

  “Mary.” Placing his finger under her chin, he prompted her to lift her head and look him in the eyes. She did as he wished and swallowed hard, preparing for rejection and wondering why it hurt more than expected to feel unwanted by a man she did not want, either.

  “I would consider it a great honor if ye would consent to be my wife.”

  Gasping, she gripped her throat, feeling it constrict with shock, panic, grief, and relief all at once. How could so few words cause so many emotions? She had always longed to hear those sentiments, but only from one man, only from Alexander. But he was not here. William was here, and despite her attempts to push him away and the knowledge that he only chose her out of duty, she was relieved to know she would have a husband willing to claim her child and protect him, keeping her honor within her clan.

  “Are ye all right, my lady?” Concern and uncertainty glistened in his honey eyes and she forced herself to nod.

  “Aye. I am all right. Simply surprised.”

  “We both need this marriage, Mary. I need a wife to run Dunnottar and create an alliance. Elizabeth explained yer connections to the Hamiltons. Not only will that alliance benefit Clan Keith, but I am prepared to claim yer child as my own and to save yer reputation, as well as offer ye both my protection.”

  So, this was how it felt to enter a marriage of convenience. No romantic notions, no minced words. She appreciated his forthright nature. Though she had not known that Elizabeth had explained her relationship to the Hamiltons, she now understood why he chose her over Marjorie. Yet, that was of little consequence. She’d had love once and once was all she needed. The rest of her life would be duty, but she would have her child and a safe home. She would want for nothing. What more could an unwed woman about to birth a bastard truly expect? There would be no roses or late-night whispered words, but there would be security.

  “I accept yer offer.” It felt hollow and the thrill of his kiss already felt like a distant memory, a fading echo in the distance. Still, if she was married to William and moved to Dunnottar, she and her bairn would be safely away from Stephan, who she vowed watched her every move.

  Nodding his head, William took her hand and squeezed it gently. “I am glad, Mary. I shall be a good husband and father. I will let Lizzie and Robert ken immediately. We will wed before the Yule is over and leave for Dunnottar when ye are able to travel.”

  The sudden realization that she would have to leave her home and her people hit her with the weight of a thousand boulders. She had once lived on Hamilton lands as a wee lass, but much of her life had been spent here with her mother at Drum. When her father passed away and she went to live with her Irvine kin, Alexander’s father had made certain she was well-cared for until his dying day, which was only last summer. The Irvines were her family, and Drum was her home. But soon, she would have a new clan and a new home to run.

  Biting back tears, Mary nodded and turned back toward the fire, too afraid to speak, lest her voice quake and betray her trepidation. She considered herself a strong woman, but even this was enough to make her tremble with uncertainty.

  She felt his presence behind her for a moment, then she heard his heavy steps walking toward the tower stairs before silence consumed her once more. Her fate was sealed and though she knew it was for the best, nothing, not even his gentle touch nor his tender kisses could soothe her heart. Soon, the rest of the clan would be made aware of the arrangement, and she would be off to the secluded castle of Dunnottar, surrounded by cliffs and waves – virtually a new world altogether.

  Chapter Five

  Archibald slammed his fist down on Robert’s desk, the veins in his neck throbbing until William wondered if the man’s head would explode. And though it would make quite a mess, it would certainly resolve many of his issues.

  “This is unacceptable! Ye were courting my daughter. We were expecting an alliance! Ye cannae marry another woman!”

  “I dinnae recall when it became yer right to order me about.” William was finished with both The Douglas and his insufferable daughter, who had playacted with tears the moment she heard the news. “Neither of ye cared when ye hoped for a match with Reginald.”

  Standing in the corner with one leg propped against the wall, Reginald stood silent and calm, watching Archibald wearily with one hand on the hilt of his sword in case the man became a threat.

  “Laird Douglas, we understand that ye are frustrated, but no contracts were drawn and no promises were made. Sir William is a laird in his own right, a knight of Scotland and Marischal to the king. He is certainly within his own right to choose a wife he believes will meet his needs.”

  “She is a whore!” he spat and William propelled himself out of his chair, starting to draw his sword.

  “Ye willnae speak of the woman with such disrespect unless ye wish to meet me in the lists.” Reginald stood still, but his eyes narrowed and he stared at Archibald with a look that even frightened William and he was dearly grateful to be an ally of the Irvines at that moment, for he would not wish to meet that fierce scowl on the battlefield.

  “I demand Reginald offer for my daughter!” William stepped away from the man slowly but did not remove his hand from his weapon.

  “Is it truly an offer if it
is forcibly given?” Reginald asked coldly, not blinking an eye. “Yer daughter is a lovely woman but I am afraid I’m not in need of a wife just yet, nor have I much to offer as the youngest son.”

  “I dinnae care if ye are a laird or a lord! Ye are noble-born, and ye are a knight. That will do. She needs a husband and none of her suitors have given her an offer. She will be useless to me if no alliance is made!”

  The man was an arse, and William felt a twinge of pity for his daughter. Standing from his chair, Robert rounded his desk and faced The Douglas with an air of calm and calculation.

  “We understand that ye are disappointed not to have an offer from either man, but there are many men here at Drum for the Yuletide that would make an excellent match for Miss Douglas. The Keiths and the Irvines all have their verra best noble-born warriors, many knighted or working toward that honor, here on our lands and looking for merriment during the Yule. The weather is cold but the snow has been minimal. We offer ye the use of our lands to host a tournament. It will entertain the hundreds of kin we all have here with us, fill the days with games, and allow the men to show off their prowess while attempting to gain the hand of the beautiful Marjorie Douglas.”

  Rubbing his long, graying beard, Archibald seemed to calm a wee bit as he considered the offer. “I accept, on one condition,” The Douglas finally said after a few awkward seconds of staring down every man in the room. “I demand Reginald and William both enter the contest. It willnae look well if the two men she hoped to gain offers from are not among her suitors. No man will enter to win her hand if they believe she has been rejected by two of the most powerful men at Drum.”