by Lynsay Sands
In the meantime, they were staying in Aulay and Jetta’s hunting lodge. It had seemed a good idea when he’d arranged it with Aulay. They would no longer be underfoot at Buchanan castle, and the lodge was closer to his property and the castle construction he was overseeing. But he was beginning to think it wasn’t such a good idea, after all. It wasn’t the lodge itself. Rory loved the family hunting lodge. It was full of good memories for him. Hunting parties with friends and family, and the more recent short stays with his brothers and brothers-in-law when the women had wanted time alone to plot marrying off the remaining single Buchanan men.
Aye, Rory loved the hunting lodge . . . for a getaway. He was not enjoying living there so much though. It was just too damned small for his growing family, and he didn’t just mean Elysande and the coming bairns. That would have been fine. But Tom, as Elysande’s man, was there as well, as were Conn, Inan, Fearghas and Donnghail, whom Aulay had released to him as a wedding gift—after asking if they were willing, of course.
Rory was grateful for his brother releasing the men to him. They would be his head men at the castle he was building. Until then though, the men, Tom included, were all sleeping on the floor of the main room on ground level, while he and Elysande had the bedroom above. And then there was the maid Jetta had sent with them for Elysande after the wedding. She slept on a pallet in the hall outside their room. But soon there would be more members of their family. Once this interview with the English king was over, they were taking a boat north to Carlisle where they would stay a day or two to visit Mildrede and the others before taking another boat home. Rory had arranged that to avoid Elysande suffering the strain of riding in her condition. The men were not sailing with them, however. They were traveling by horseback, and he had agreed to his wife’s request for them to stop at Kynardersley on the way back to check on her people and she hoped to bring back Betty, and the boy Eldon, if they had survived de Buci and were willing.
Rory hadn’t been able to refuse the request; the pair had helped save Elysande’s life, after all. He also hadn’t been able to refuse allowing Tom to look for and invite back an older maid named Ethelfreda, who had been Elysande’s nursemaid when she was a lass, and whom she hoped would be willing to move to Scotland and act as nursemaid for their child.
Children, Rory corrected himself because he was damned sure his wife was carrying twins. Which meant soon they would have five soldiers, three maids, a lad, two bairns and he and Elysande all crammed into the two-room lodge. Thank God winter had finally released the steely grasp it had held on the land this year and the weather had warmed up, because he was quite sure he and the men were going to end up sleeping outside under the stars until he got something built for them all to live in. He’d been hoping to stay at the lodge until the keep was done at least, but that could take two years and there was no way he and the men could sleep outside through the next winter.
“It was not as if I had a choice, husband,” Elysande said now, drawing him from his thoughts. “He is my king. He commanded my presence here and so I had to come.”
“Ye’re a Scot now, lass. David is yer king,” he growled.
“So he is,” she agreed soothingly, patting his arm. “I have two kings and one husband. Goodness, has a woman ever had more men to boss her about?”
“Ye—” Rory broke off when the door opened beside them and Elysande’s name was called. Well, her old name. Elysande de Valance. She was Elysande Buchanan now, and had been since they’d been married good and proper by a priest, a month after their arrival at Sinclair. It would have been sooner had they been able to arrange it, but it had taken that long to get everyone there for the wedding, including Tom, Fearghas and Donnghail. Elysande had refused to hold it until the three men returned from their mission and she knew they were well and the king had been warned.
“Stop scowling, husband, everything will be fine,” Elysande whispered as they followed two soldiers armed with lances to the door. Tom, Fearghas and Donnghail were following close behind them. But Alick, Conn and Inan were waiting in the woods outside the city with a small army in case they had to steal Elysande back from the king.
Rory considered that, and sighed at his wife’s reassuring words, not sure even she believed them. That was something he had learned about Elysande. She wasn’t always as confident or calm as her serene demeanor suggested. She just was not the type of woman to have hysterics or start screaming and shouting in panic. She rarely lost control, except when he was loving her. Only then did she let go of that fine control of hers and give him all of herself. The rest of the time, she kept herself in check, and thought before she did anything. He liked that about her.
“Ah, Lady Elysande. How delightful to finally meet the woman who saved the lives of both myself and my son.”
Rory eyed the King of England a bit leerily as they were led to stand several feet in front of where he sat on the throne. Edward III was young, in his mid-twenties. Rory had known that, but even so, it was startling to actually see. The man looked more a boy than he’d expected.
“Your Majesty.” Elysande’s soft voice drew Rory’s attention and he frowned when he noted that she had dropped into a deep curtsy. One he was quite sure she would not be able to get out of on her own at this stage in her pregnancy. He was startled from his concern when she glared to the side at him and mouthed, “Bow.”
Rory scowled in response, but he did bow as requested. It was best not to upset a woman so large with child, and that was the only reason why he would bow to the English king, he assured himself. He was positive that was the only reason that Fearghas and Donnghail bowed as well. None of them liked to disappoint Elysande. Of course, Tom bowed because he was English. But they forgave him that.
“Please, Lady Elysande, rise,” King Edward III said, actually sounding concerned. “In fact, come, sit here next to me. I suspect you should not be kept standing around like this. Had I realized your condition, I would have delayed having you come.”
“Oh, ’tis fine, Your Majesty,” Elysande said breathlessly as Rory caught her under the arms and raised her back to her feet so she would not strain herself. She gave him a grateful smile, and then waddled forward to plop into the chair that was quickly produced and set next to the king.
Rory tried to follow, wanting to stick close to Elysande, but the guards that had escorted them in and stood on either side of their small group suddenly thrust their lances out, crossing them in front of him. He supposed that meant he was to wait right where he was. He also supposed he didn’t have much choice in the matter. He didn’t like it though.
“I must thank you, Lady Elysande, for your part in revealing the plot de Buci and his cohorts had planned against us. And I, of course, offer my condolences on the loss of your parents and their soldiers. I liked your father. He was a good man.”
“Yes, he was,” Elysande murmured, and Rory frowned when he heard the husky tone to her voice and saw the glassy look to her eyes. Elysande did not cry. Or at least she hadn’t used to. But she had become most sensitive this past month of her pregnancy. He didn’t like to see her cry. It made his heart hurt. Fortunately, she regained control of herself, cleared her throat and said, “And thank you for your condolences. I am just glad to see that you are healthy and well and de Buci’s plan did not succeed. My parents’ sacrifice was not in vain.”
King Edward nodded, and then glanced around when a man standing beside and a little behind him suddenly bent to whisper in his ear, gesturing toward Rory and the men as he did. The king followed his gesture to Rory as he listened and then sighed and nodded before turning back to Elysande.
“I understand that you have married?” he said gently, and then added solemnly, “Without gaining my permission first?”
Rory felt his hands clench into fists as he braced himself for trouble. He was sure he’d been right. The man was going to demand an annulment.
“Aye,” Elysande murmured, and then smiled crookedly at the king. “And I do feel awfu
l about that. For while I knew you would surely approve of my marrying the man who saved your life, I was most distressed that he felt forced to offer marriage simply to save my reputation. Especially when it was only ruined in my efforts to save you.”
When she stopped speaking and offered him a sweet smile, the king sat blinking briefly before saying, “The man who . . .”
“Saved your life, aye,” she supplied gently, and then asked, “Did you not know?”
King Edward turned to glance at Rory standing behind the crossed lances in his finest plaid, and then turned back to Elysande. “I understood that you— That is, the letter is from your mother . . .”
“Aye. But I fear I should never have got it to you, Your Majesty. I did my best, but in the end it was my husband, Rory Buchanan, who found a way to get the warning to you. While I lay unconscious after an attack by one of de Buci’s agents, he took the messages that I had hidden away and gave them to my man, Tom, then arranged passage for him on a ship heading south. He also sent two of his best men with him, to help keep him safe on the journey to court: Fearghas and Donnghail,” she informed him, and then pointed toward Rory and the men, saying, “That is them there. The two tall men standing on either side of Tom in the back are Fearghas and Donnghail.”
“Good Christ, she’s pointing at us,” Rory heard Fearghas hiss with alarm. “What is she telling him?”
“I do no’ ken,” Donnghail muttered. “I was no’ paying attention. Just pretend they’re no’ staring rudely and maybe they’ll stop.”
“Lady Elysande is smiling,” Fearghas pointed out. “Do we smile back?”
“I’m no’ sure. She’s smiling, but the English king’s looking a bit vexed and befuddled to me,” Donnghail pointed out.
Rory did not comment; he was trying very hard not to laugh. Because his beautiful wife was brilliant, and the king truly did appear vexed and befuddled as he listened to her tell him that he, Rory Buchanan, a Scot, was the hero of the story. No doubt, she did so in the hopes that the king would find it very hard to annul her marriage to a man who had apparently saved his life. And Rory supposed he had played a part in that endeavor. But the truth was, he’d only done it for Elysande. He hadn’t given a fig whether the English king lived or died.
Before Fearghas and Donnghail could sort out whether to smile or not, Elysande was speaking again and the king’s attention had returned to her.
“So you see, my husband is the true hero. Without him, I fear you never would have been warned in time.”
“I see,” the king murmured, lowering his head. Probably to hide his expression, Rory thought, which was no doubt becoming more vexed by the moment.
“That is why I felt so bad that he felt he had to offer marriage to save my reputation,” Elysande murmured with a sad sigh.
The king glanced up. “Your reputation? You mentioned that before.”
“Aye. Well, my efforts to get the warning to you necessitated my traveling alone with eight men who were neither husband nor kin. I fear my reputation was quickly in shreds from it. And then he began introducing me as his wife to avoid my suffering the slurs of others and I answered to the title, which as you know, is as good as wed in Scotland.”
“Oh. I see.” King Edward frowned.
“When he then asked me to wed him good and proper in front of a priest,” Elysande went on, “I felt sure you would want me to marry the man who had been so instrumental in saving your life and the life of your son, but I did have qualms about it myself. I felt I was taking advantage of a man of honor and integrity. But I had come to love him.” She paused and smiled sweetly again. “How could I not love a man who saved my king?”
She’d left the king blinking again, Rory noted with amusement.
“Fortunately, we do seem to do well together,” Elysande went on. Placing a hand over her burgeoning stomach, she added, “And as you can see, the union has borne fruit.”
“Aye.” King Edward stared at her stomach, his frown returning.
“However,” Elysande said, drawing his attention back to her face, “Your Majesty, we are living in Scotland now, and building a keep there.”
“What of Kynardersley?” the king asked at once, pouncing on the subject like a cat on a mouse, and Rory knew that was the crux of the problem. The English king would hardly want a Scot as lord over a powerful holding in the south of England.
“That is a dilemma, Your Majesty,” Elysande confessed solemnly. “I find I cannot bring myself to return to Kynardersley. The memory of the horrors I witnessed and endured there . . .” She shook her head, her eyes again glassy. “But, of course, I would not deny my child their birthright, so I was hoping that you might consider assigning a guardian to the castle and estates to look after it until my child is old enough to do so.”
The king looked so relieved Rory again had a hard time not laughing. Elysande had just taken away the worry of a Scot becoming lord of one of his wealthiest and most powerful holdings. And saved him from having to force an annulment that would make him look like an ungrateful arse.
“Of course, Your Majesty, my husband and his men along with Tom are not the only people we owe a debt of gratitude to for saving your life,” Elysande said now.
“Are they not?” King Edward asked warily.
“Nay,” she assured him. “There are also the people of Carlisle.”
“Carlisle?” he echoed uncertainly.
“Oh, my, yes,” she assured him. “I must tell you, Your Majesty, that the people of Carlisle love you dearly, and risked themselves greatly to aid us. You would have been proud to see them work together on your behalf, and would have blushed to hear their love and praise for you. An alewife named Mildrede and her husband, Albert, at the Cock and Bull, as well as the draper’s wife, Elizabeth, and a blacksmith named Robbie, went to great lengths to ensure we escaped to get the warning to you when de Buci’s men tracked us to their fine city.”
Rory felt his lips twitch at Elysande’s words. He couldn’t wait to tell Mildrede about it when they stopped in Carlisle on the way home. The woman would be pleased as could be to hear she’d been lauded to the king.
“Then we must surely send some special boon to Carlisle, and a personal letter and gift to this alewife, the draper’s wife and the blacksmith,” the king said solemnly.
“I am sure they would appreciate it, Your Majesty,” Elysande assured him.
“And I shall honor your marriage with a gift,” the king added.
“That is not necessary, Your Majesty. It is enough that you approve it,” Elysande said at once. “You will give us your blessing, Your Majesty, will you not?”
“How could I not bless your marriage to the man who saved my life,” King Edward said wryly, and Rory relaxed after that, only half listening to the remainder of the conversation. He caught something about rewards, and then an invitation for her to attend the executions of de Buci and the others, which she refused. But finally, the king stood and helped Elysande to her feet himself, then clasped her shoulders and kissed her cheek, thanking her once again for helping to save him from his enemies.
Much to Rory’s surprise, the man, himself, then escorted Elysande to his side.
“He’s coming over here,” Fearghas murmured behind him.
“Aye,” Donnghail rumbled.
“He will probably thank us for our part in saving him,” Tom said out of the side of his mouth.
“Huh,” Fearghas muttered. “He will no’ kiss us too, will he?”
Rory choked on a laugh, tried to hide it with a cough, and then the English king was there, shaking his hand and the hands of the others as he thanked them for their assistance.
Once he had finished, the king turned his attention back to Rory and said, “You have a very beautiful, and intelligent, wife, Buchanan. Take care of her.”
Rory’s eyebrows rose at the way the man emphasized intelligent. It had been a message. The king had not been taken in completely by Elysande’s tale. But he had accepted it b
ecause it solved his problems. It seemed the young king was smart at least. Not perhaps a good thing for Scotland if he ever settled his disputes with France and turned his attention on them again, he thought, but Rory merely said, “I will.”
Much to his relief, moments later they were back out in the hall, heading for the exit.
“There, I did tell you it would be fine, husband,” Elysande said, sounding pleased as they made their way through the crowds of people in the castle.
“Aye, you did,” Rory admitted mildly. “I shall surely never doubt you again, wife.”
“I notice you did not thank the king for your reward. Were you not pleased by it?”
“Reward?” Rory asked, glancing at her with confusion.
“Well, part wedding gift and part reward for saving his life,” Elysande said. “I thought it was most generous.”
“Is it?” Rory asked, nodding at the guard who opened the doors for them to leave the castle. “What is it?”
“You truly did not hear?” Elysande asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Nay. I may have been distracted,” he admitted, but didn’t tell her he’d been fretting over how crowded they would soon be at the hunting lodge. “What is this reward?”
Elysande hesitated and then shook her head. “Do you know, I think I might let it be a surprise.”
Rory smiled with amusement at the words and shrugged, not really interested in what it might be. He had other issues on his mind at the moment. Not least of which was getting his wife to the docks and onto the boat waiting for them. He did dislike London.
It was a soft warm nuzzling of his ear that woke Rory. Smiling before he was even fully awake, he opened his eyes and slid his arms around his wife where she stood at the side of the bed bent over him. It had been a month since their meeting with the king and their short but surprisingly enjoyable stop in Carlisle. Elysande was even larger now than she had been then, but she was still gorgeous to him and he couldn’t resist trying to tug her back into bed with him.