Like a Laird to a Flame

by Pride, Mia

  “Ye carry his bairn. He is here in spirit. Speak to him. Think about what I offered. Ye can marry Stephan and come home with me to Cadzow, but ye will never see Drum again after all I have learned. I must leave. There is much to resolve, but I shall be back before ye birth yer bairn. ’Tis not but an hour’s journey. Take this time alone to consider yer path, Mary.”

  “Why do ye think Stephan wrote to ye? Have ye no sense? He wasnae concerned for me. He has been wanting to marry me for years and hated Alex. This was his chance! He ruined me intentionally, brought ye to Drum to force ye to wed me to him.”

  “At this point, I dinnae care what his motivation was, Mary!” James roared, and she pulled away from his embrace, turning around so he could not see the agony he caused her. “He is a man willing to marry ye who hasnae defiled ye before my eyes! Can ye give me one reason why Stephan isnae fit to wed ye? He is a knight. He hasnae harmed ye. He hasnae touched ye. He isnae a traitor. He loves ye and wishes to care for ye. How ye feel about him or what he looks like doesnae concern me. Ye will come back to Cadzow with him and yer child, and ye can sleep in separate rooms for all I care! But unless ye marry him, ye will join the priory here and yer child will be raised in Hamilton lands.”

  Gasping, Mary felt her knees go weak as her heart shattered into pieces. She would not, could not, allow her child to be separated from her. James was being unusually stern, though deep down, she understood why he was forcing her hand. He knew she would never allow her child to be taken away from her. Was this her fate? To marry Stephan and never see William or Elizabeth and the rest of the Irvines again?

  She could not look at her brother. She refused to allow him to see her tears. “Go, James. But ken this: if ye hurt William or anyone at Drum, I will never lay eyes upon ye again. I will hate ye with every piece of my soul. They are good people. They are our family. Dinnae ye forget that Mother was an Irvine and even if ye stayed on Hamilton lands after Father passed, yer blood is still their own. The only person living who should atone for my deeds is me.”

  Looking over her shoulder, she narrowed her eyes in warning. “Elizabeth carries Robert’s child. Touch either of them, and ye will be the one burning in hell.” Looking back at the kirk, Mary took a fortifying breath and stepped forward, the snow falling at her feet making her flesh feel numb. If only she could numb her heart and make the pain subside.

  She was trapped and her brother was her captor. She would marry Stephan. She would return to Cadzow and ache every day of her life for the two loves she had lost in this life but be grateful that she’d had them once. Never would she allow a man to take her child, but she knew they would do so, especially if she birthed a son.

  “Mary.” Putting a hand up to silence him as she continued to walk away, Mary refused to look upon his face. He had destroyed her chance at happiness.

  When she approached the entry to the kirk, another chill ran up her spine. The doors were securely locked, and she lifted the large metal knocker, slamming it against the rough wooden surface. When she heard keys clinking on the other side before a priest slowly opened the door, a wave of nausea washed over her. How long would she be here? William would not know where to find her and after all James had said, would he even want to?

  With her pains coming several times a day, Mary knew she had little time before her bairn was ready to arrive and prayed she would not be alone within these walls with only a prioress to assist in what they would consider her sinful condition. A void of emptiness made her world turn as dark as a moonless night, with no hope or light to guide her way.

  “May I help ye, child?” the elderly man asked and looked at her belly, though she was relieved to see no condemnation in his eyes.

  “I am Sir James Hamilton, Laird of Cadzow. My sister seeks sanctuary here.” James stepped up behind her and she jumped, having expected him to have left by now. “No man shall visit her until I arrive, especially Sir William Keith, Laird of Dunnottar. If he arrives, ye are to demand that she isnae here and send word to Drum Castle, where I shall remain until I return for her.”

  The priest frowned and looked between her and James before nodding and moving aside to allow her entrance. Mary supposed this situation was not all that uncommon. They likely received unwed expectant mothers or women in danger often.

  “As ye say,” the priest responded and gently touched her on the shoulder as she entered. She wished to spit more venom at James, but it was of no use. He would not relent in his pursuit to seek justice on those who were innocent and give favors to those who did not deserve them, despite her pleas. “Will she be taking the veil?”

  James looked at her before replying. “That is for her to decide.” Mary turned away from him and crossed her arms in defiance. She would not let him see her cry. Curse him.

  “Mary, I shall return as soon as I am able. I expect yer decision by then. If ye choose marriage, I will deliver Stephan to ye and then travel with ye back to Cadzow. I do hope ye choose wisely.”

  “Have ye even given me a choice?” She could not keep her silence. He had threatened to take her child away if she did not marry. He knew she would never accept such a fate.

  “Aye, I have. Ye caused this, Mary. I am simply fixing it.” Walking over to her, James placed his large hands on her shoulders. They were once a comfort to her, but now they made her wish to recoil. Kissing her forehead, James looked down at her with his large hazel eyes, his dark brown, shoulder-length hair partially draped over his face. “Ye ken how much I love ye. Dinnae ye hate me, Sister. I have seen what an unwed mother goes through in this world, and I ken what becomes of those labeled as bastards. I hope ye will forgive me someday.”

  “How can I?” she whispered through her clenched teeth. “I told ye. I am in love with William. He is a good man, James. Tell me ye never did to another woman what ye saw him doing to me. And if ye do, I will ken ye are lying. Does loving the woman he is betrothed to make William a threat to ye? Why? Because ye never truly loved another woman in all yer life, and yet, I ken ye have done much darker deeds in yer chamber.”

  “Mary! Haud yer wheesht! This is a kirk! Have ye no respect?”

  “Dinnae try to silence me! Ye are wrong in this! We are betrothed and he told ye he loves me and wishes to claim the child. Why must ye make me suffer? I have already suffered a lifetime’s worth of pain after losing Alexander. And now ye send me here where I ken his body lies, with his child kicking at my ribs while ye threaten to take me away from my bairn or force me to wed a man I dinnae wish to wed nor do I trust! Ye say those are my only options, but they are the only options ye gave me. I have another option, James! I wish to marry William and live with him at Dunnottar as their lady. He can protect me better than a landless knight with only his own ambitions in mind! Ye are being a stubborn arse and, nay, if ye dinnae consider my desires in this and force my hand, I shall never forgive ye!”

  Tearing his Hamilton plaid off her shoulders, Mary threw it in his face. “I am no longer a Hamilton. My kin are those who care for me and protect me! I havenae heard from ye in over a year. Ye ken why the Irvines didnae tell ye about the bairn? They were protecting me from ye, James! From… this!” Mary spun in a circle with her arms out in the echoing chill of the kirk’s entrance while the priest watched on with a gaping mouth. She was past caring. If she was to live a life of misery, it may as well begin now. “Go now, James. Leave me in peace. But remember what I told ye. If ye harm the Irvines, I will never speak to ye again! I will make yer life one long misery, as ye will have made mine.”

  Storming away, Mary was not at all certain where she was headed, nor did she care. She had said all she had to say and though she knew James loved her and was attempting to protect her, he was only causing her more harm than any man ever had.

  Mary heard James’ footsteps departing through the kirk entrance, its doors slamming shut behind him, and she stiffened her back.

  Hearing a throat clear, Mary turned to look at the priest, who, to her surprise, did not appear o
ffended. Hands folded before him, he nodded his balding head. “I will seek out the prioress, and she will help ye to yer room.”

  “I am sorry for my behavior, Father.” She felt shame course through her. It seemed sin after sin was compiling upon her soul.

  “Ye arenae the first woman to come through these doors for these reasons, child. ’Tis not my place to judge. I hope ye will find our place of worship is a comfort to yer soul and a place to be unburdened until yer brother arrives for ye.” Nodding once more, the priest shuffled his feet across the solid, dark stone floors and disappeared around the corner.

  She had no idea how long she would be here, but knowing she was so close to Alexander, yet so far away, made Mary queasy. There would come a moment before she left this place where she would need the courage to seek out his effigy and make peace with her past. For now, she waited in the cold hall without a plaid to keep her warm, staring up at the towering beamed ceiling and inspecting the ancient architecture of a place that had seen more heartache and death than she ever would. Mayhap she could learn something from this kirk.

  Life moved on. People died, and bairns were born. The world did not cease to exist simply because a man does. Enough time had been spent reliving the past, grieving over the loss of a future that would never exist. But, she did. Mary lived on, as would Alexander’s child. And the time to face her past and move forward was before her whether she was ready or not.

  Chapter Nine

  He was too far behind. William cursed into the freezing night as snow fell all around, urging his horse on. Once he and his men had swept the castle and rounded up all the Douglases into the cellar with their laird, the Hamiltons being forced to remain in the hall, William knew he would not beat James and Mary to the kirk.

  There were too many threats within the walls of Drum: a dead Keith, an imprisoned Douglas, angry Hamiltons, and a missing Irvine. Stephan was nowhere to be found, and William’s gut was never wrong. He had something to do with the missive James received and for the appearance of the Hamilton warriors. It was not a coincidence that Stephan had been threatening William at the tournament, confident that he would have Mary as his own. But where would the man be?

  Before leaving Drum, William commanded his men to guard all the entrances in and out of the castle to prevent anyone from leaving or entering while the Irvines watched the men in the cellar. None of this would be good for peace in the future but, for now, they simply needed to prevent war. And, he needed to get to Mary.

  It was well past matins by the time he had been safely able to leave Drum and follow the old stone road northwest that led to the abbey. William’s stomach remained in constant knots every moment that passed and he had not reached Mary. Her wails echoed in his heart. He should have fought James to keep Mary with him at Drum, curse it all. James may be her guardian, but William was her betrothed, and he had let her down and allowed her to be humiliated in front of the entire clan because he had gotten carried away with his feelings for her, the need to love her. And yet, coward that he was, he had made love to her without saying the words he desired to speak, that she deserved to hear.

  Even now, the scent of her fresh, clean skin lingered in his mind. Her breasts had been warm and soft in his hands, and his lips had never tasted anything sweeter than their rosy ripe buds. She was more than just intelligence and beauty. She was sensual, honest, loyal, and all the things he ever wanted in a woman. And now, he may have lost her forever.

  Urging his horse past the thickly wooded land on either side of the old knobby trail, William gripped the reins so tightly, he felt the leather digging into his flesh. He should be halfway to the abbey by now and wondered if he would even be allowed in, or if James had made certain he would not be allowed near Mary.

  The sound of another rider approaching from the north made William pull back, bringing his horse to a halt. It was nearly pitch black and the light of the moon eerily glowed through the wall of clouds in the sky, creating a mystical haze and causing the fresh white snow to almost glow. It was all William had to light his way, but he had navigated in less. “Who approaches?” he asked, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. Thieves should not be a threat with the snow falling as thick as it was, but Scotland was never short of men looking for trouble.

  When the rider slowed beside him, William scowled and popped his knuckles. “Where is she?”

  “I didnae drag her away from ye just to tell ye where she is. Mary is safe.”

  “She isnae safe if she is alone. Her child is due and there is a certain man missing that I dinnae trust.” William sighed and pushed his tangled hair away from his face. “James, if ye wish to keep me away from Mary, ye had better kill me now. Death is the only thing that will prevent me from finding her.”

  Shifting in his saddle, James narrowed his eyes on William, scrutinizing him. “Would ye fight me to the death for her hand?”

  Dismounting his horse without hesitation, William placed his hand on his sword and nodded. “I dinnae wish to harm ye. I ken Mary loves ye, and I willnae cause her more grief. But I will fight ye. First to draw blood.” He was not frightened by James and though he was confident in his own fighting skills, he was certain James would be well-trained and a formidable foe. He was not afraid of death but dying without seeing Mary once more caused him more pain than the thought of eternal darkness.

  James hopped down from his horse and slowly walked toward William, clearly sizing him up and determining his worth as a warrior. William knew his skills on the battlefield. They had been tested too many times. He was not selected to be the king’s Marischal and protector during parliament for no reason.

  “Would ye die to save her?” James asked, his gaze still narrowed on William.

  “Do ye believe ye can kill me?” William asked in reply. “Many men have tried, yet none have succeeded. But, aye. I would die to save her, and if ye keep her away from those she loves, if ye make her birth her bairn alone, ye are sentencing her to a life of misery.”

  “What if I told ye that she was marrying another man right now?” James shrewdly asked, and William clenched his teeth, his gut twisting.

  “That bastard Stephan?” he growled, popping his knuckles. “What have ye done, James?”

  The stone façade covering his face crumbled away and William saw a flicker of fear in James’ eyes. “How did ye ken I referred to Stephan? He is the man who wrote to me about her condition.”

  “He wants Mary and always has. He threatened me at the tournament, vowing she would be his. Within hours…” William stopped, horror turning his blood to ice. “Brian was found dead. Then ye arrived and he went missing. It was a diversion.”

  “What was? What are ye saying, man?” James stepped even closer, this time no longer looking as if he wished to run William through.

  “He killed one of my warriors, not a Douglas. Killing Brian made us all turn against one another while he plotted. Did he mention the kirk to ye in the missive?”

  Wide-eyed as it all came together in his mind, James nodded slowly but stayed silent.

  Cursing under his breath, William watched his frantic breath leave his mouth in visible wisps, disappearing into the wind. “He kenned ye had arrived and would take her away to the kirk. We were all too concerned with finding the murderer to protect Mary from the true threat!” William roared and rubbed his forehead, kicking himself for being a blind fool. “He must have kenned that Brian insulted Marjorie the night before, mayhap overheard it. It was the perfect plan. Is he with Mary right now, James?”

  “Nay. She is safe at the kirk. I told the priest not to allow any other men inside until I arrived. William…” James paused and finally took his hand off the hilt of his sword. “I have been a fool. I wanted to protect Mary, to keep her safe and innocent. I am just as angry at myself as I am with ye and Alexander. He isnae here, so I am afraid all my spite has fallen on yer shoulders and clouded my judgment. I trusted a faceless man with dark motivations over the man before me, the man Mary lov
es.”

  William took his hand off his hilt, as well, and took a steadying breath, wondering if her brother could possibly be correct about her feelings for him. She never confessed any love for him in his presence. If she loved him and wished to tell him, he would find her and make damned certain she had the opportunity to do so. And, if she still needed time to decide her feelings, William would gladly give it, spending every moment of his life making certain she knew how treasured she was.

  “Ye are an elder brother, James. I ken the responsibility ye feel for her. I had to entrust my sister with Drum’s laird, and he has proven worthy of her, though we came to blows a time or two. I hope ye can now entrust Mary to me. Allow me to prove I am worthy of her.”

  “I do believe ’tis I who must prove to be worthy of her now, William,” James said so quietly that William almost missed the words. “I treated her most foul, like a wee lass. The truth is, she has become a woman in the years since I have seen her. She speaks her mind freely and had much to say to me before I left the kirk. ’Twas nothing pleasant, but everything I deserved.”

  Scoffing, William nodded and widened his eyes. “Och, aye. I do ken this about her. She had much to say to me in the beginning, and none of it was easy to hear. Eventually, she learned to tolerate me. But, I’m not the one who carried her off to a kirk. Ye have much more to atone for than I ever did. Ye can start by taking me to her.”

  James mounted his horse and William heard the torment in the man’s voice. “Ye dinnae ken the awful things I said to her. Finding her with ye… I still want to bloody yer nose,” he warned.

  “And I still want to split yer lip,” William shot back. “Ye took Mary from me, humiliated her, sent her to a kirk, and forced Stephan on her!” William said as he climbed back onto his horse, feeling his temper rise once more as the image of Mary being carried away with tears in her eyes haunted him.