'Then he must be on his way?'
'Almost here, I expect,' Fiona agreed, trying to suppress the qualms that were assailing her at the expected advent of this unknown man to whom she was betrothed.
'Reconsider it!' Bruce said suddenly, urgently.
'I beg your pardon?' Fiona was astonished.
'You should not wed him!' her uncle said, twisting his moustache more violently.
'Why ever not?'
'It was not so great a matter before, when your dear brother was alive and would have inherited from your father. Then it was not so important whom you married, though I always considered Hugh was unduly modest in seeking so obscure a match for you. A fourth son, indeed, and a Borderer! No prospects, none whatsoever! What could he have been thinking of?'
Astonished at this outburst from her normally mild uncle, Fiona eyed him with concern.
'Patrick's family are not barbarians, Uncle,' she replied with an uncertain laugh.
'No, no, of course I did not mean that. Of course not. An estimable young man, I am certain, but obscure! You need to marry more in keeping with your status, my dear, an eldest son, one with land to come, one to whom you would be an equal, whose lands might be joined to yours to increase the importance of both! That is necessary in these days, I do assure you, my dear niece. Power can be obtained by judicious marriage alliances.'
Fiona was beginning to sense the drift of his words.
'I have no wish to increase my powers,' she said sharply. 'I consider it my duty to follow my father's wishes in the matter of my marriage, and there is no more to be said, though I do appreciate your concern for my welfare.'
'No, not at all. That is, do not your mother's wishes enter into it at all?'
'What do you mean?' she asked, surprised.
He rose from his chair and prowled round the room before answering.
'Your dear mother, my sister, would have had it otherwise,' he said at last. 'She was an excellent wife and would never have gone against your dear father's wishes in anything, naturally, but she did confide in me, during her last illness, when she knew there was no hope of recovery, that she would have liked something else for you.'
'Indeed? Pray what was that?' Fiona asked, deceptively calm.
Bruce smiled ingratiatingly. 'It is something I myself would like above all things,' he said. 'That is, for you and my own dear son to unite our two estates. My Maclean lands together with your Macdonald ones would be more than a match for Black Duncan, who menaces us both!'
'So! And what has my cousin to say to this plan? I wonder he did not come himself to attempt to persuade me!'
'He would have done, was indeed most eager to do so, but he had a most unfortunate hunting accident, and cannot ride for a few weeks. But he wishes it most ardently, I do assure you. He has sent this letter to tell you how greatly he admires you and wishes for the union.'
'A most distressing accident! And unfortunate that it cannot be, since I am already promised to Patrick and have no desire or intention of breaking that promise!'
'Oh, come, niece, what harm would there be? 'Tis not as though he comes from a powerful clan close by us, with whom it might cause ill feeling and possibly war.'
'That is not the only reason for keeping faith!' Fiona said sharply.
'Your mother, your dear mother, wished for it!' Bruce said anxiously.
'I hate to have to say, Uncle, that I do not believe you. My mother could not have wished me to marry your son, for she knew even then he was ill!'
'Oh, you have been misinformed, my dear, absolutely. Donald is a fine young man. Are you worried by that rumour circulated, most maliciously, last year, that he was incapable of fathering a child? Naturally we must both be anxious to secure the joint succession to our lands, but the rumour is without foundation! Why, there's a fine healthy babe he fathered on one of the laundry maids to prove it. H'm. Yes, well. You may take my word for it, my dear, there's nought the matter with Donald apart from a slight injury caused by his recent fall.'
Torn between disgust, laughter, and a feeling of pity for the anxious man, so feebly attempting to plead his son's suit, Fiona made it clear she had no intention whatever of marrying anyone but Patrick, and despondently Bruce departed, his mission a failure.
'I think badly of him for it,' Fiona commented when she repeated the conversation to Blanche. 'Whatever his misfortunes, he should not have tried to persuade me that my mother would for a moment have countenanced such a match. She knew of his wife's derangement, and often said Donald's behaviour was reminiscent of his mother's before she succumbed to her malady.' She shuddered. 'It is appalling for me even to think of such a plan.'
*
The episode was soon forgotten, however, swept away by what happened that evening.
They were at supper when there was a commotion outside, and the great doors of the hall were flung open with a flourish.
Blanche turned and saw a blond giant of a man, well over six feet tall, enter the hall, tossing his cloak to a servant as he strode into the centre of the huge room. For a moment she thought it might be Patrick, but as she saw the nods of greeting he threw to various people she knew it could not be. John, beside her, had started to his feet at the disturbance, but Fiona quickly laid her hand on his arm and he subsided.
'Cousin Alexander,' she said softly, a smile on her lips, 'Making his presence known, as usual.'
John nodded, recalling the man he had met with Montrose's army. He looked doubtfully at Fiona, who was still smiling in welcome at the tall handsome man striding down the hall towards her, laughingly acknowledging the delighted welcome accorded him by the members of the household.
Alexander reached the table at the end of the hall, where Fiona sat alone except for the Emreys. He surveyed them quickly before bending over his cousin.
'My dearest Fiona – no longer the little cousin I left playing with her dolls,' he said caressingly, and pulled her to her feet to kiss her full on the lips as he folded her into a warm embrace.
When she was able to speak, Fiona laughed up at him, her cheeks flushed.
'Alex! 'Tis an age since I saw you. Sit down and tell us all your news.'
She made room beside her and he pulled up a stool, looking enquiringly at her companions, and nodding at John in recognition.
'We have not met, or I would have recalled it, Ma'am,' he said easily as his glance passed to Lady Emrey and then, lingering for a slightly longer time, to Blanche.
'Lady Emrey, my dear friend,' Fiona hastened to introduce them. 'Mistress Blanche, who has been my companion these last three years, and Sir John, who was my father's and now is my loyal steward.'
Alexander had smiled engagingly at the ladies as Fiona made the introductions, but at these last words he shot his cousin a swift glance, and his eyebrows were raised interrogatively as he turned back to John.
'Steward?' he repeated slowly in a tone of query. 'I am certain, Sir John, that you are most loyal!'
John's eyes narrowed, for there was a hint of mockery in Alexander's voice, but before he could answer Fiona spoke again.
'Sir John was a good friend to my brother, and was with him when he died,' she explained. 'Later my father offered him the post since with the defeat of King Charles, England held no more for him.'
'Whereas, I can see, Scotland holds much.'
Again there was the slightly mocking tone which turned the words into an insult, John thought angrily. But there was nothing he could reasonably object to, for the words were innocent enough, so he sat without replying while Alexander, his mood becoming grave, told them of the utter defeat of the Scottish army at Preston.
'We got so short a distance, but the rascally English would not venture to join us!' he said scornfully. 'The army was crushed like a snail under a man's boot! I doubt if a hundred won free. We were pursued all the way back. I escaped only because I stole a boat and reached the Isles, and from there came back to the mainland. But enough of failure, tell me what has been happe
ning here? You know how distressed I was to be unable to come to Uncle Hugh's funeral. I heard of his death in Edinburgh, but was about to join the Duke of Hamilton, and that could not wait. You do understand?'
Fiona reassured him, then gave him the news, laughingly regaling him with the ludicrous story of her Uncle Bruce's visit to offer her his son's hand.
'His wife is not the only one in the family that wants wit,' he remarked. 'But Bruce is right in one thing, my love. This marriage with Patrick is no longer wise. You cannot mean to go on with it?'
'I see no reason why not,' Fiona replied coldly.
'There are many! You ought to take the opportunity of making a match with a Highland clan.'
'And lose the independence we Macdonalds have struggled to maintain? No, Alex, that would be to betray my father.'
'Patrick, from all I have heard of him, is no warrior. You need a strong man, Fiona, to help you rule your lands and protect them. No woman is capable of that. You must marry a man capable of fighting for you.'
'No doubt you refer to yourself?' she demanded cuttingly.
He grinned at her. 'Would you not prefer that? We have the same grandfather, we are both Macdonalds and proud of it. I would fight for you more fiercely and more effectively than any Lowlander!'
Fiona laughed. 'You would fight for yourself, I am aware. You do not understand me, Alex. I am the chieftain, and I intend to rule. I, not my husband! You could not suffer any woman who was not subject to you in all things.'
He grinned, nodding cheerfully. It seemed to the Emreys that he had completely forgotten their presence, but at that moment he glanced round and briefly his eyes rested on Blanche.
'A woman I loved could rule me in many ways,' he said musingly. 'So long as she did not make it obvious she did so. Remember that, my dear!'
'Alex, you are incorrigible!' Fiona exclaimed, and he nodded, unrepentant.
'When I marry I will be subject to my husband in all things that are proper, but he shall not rule in my stead! You could not abide that, so let there be no more of this nonsense.'
'Then I will sing to you some new songs that I learned in France!'
*
He sprang up and demanded a lute, and began singing in a deep, attractive voice. The tunes were lively, and when he switched to Scottish ballads most of the people in the hall were singing with him. When the trestles had been cleared away Alexander sprang up with a demand someone else play, for he had a mind to dance.
Fiona protested it was unseemly for her to dance so soon after her father's death, though she would have no objection to watching the others, but he swept aside her protests by saying her father would not have wished to see her moping, denying herself ordinary pleasures. She allowed him to lead her out, ordering the men who had taken his place as musicians to play a reel, and others followed them. John, who had been very silent, partnered Blanche, but she was aware he watched Fiona all the time, noting her delight in her cousin's return.
At the end of the dance John led Blanche back to where Fiona stood with Alexander. They had almost reached the cousins when Alexander's voice, raised in anger, caused John to halt suddenly and catch Blanche's arm to prevent her from going forward.
'Things have indeed changed, if you can invite your steward to share your table!' he was saying scornfully. 'Your father would never have permitted it. It is not seemly to entertain any but the most illustrious guests at your table.'
Fiona's reply was inaudible to John and Blanche, but they saw Alexander smile down at her and shake his head.
'Whatever precedent our royal family set, so long ago, we do not have to follow it. I have no doubt you are lonely, but you must not allow this fellow to impose on you, my dear.'
Angrily John stepped forward and Fiona, suddenly aware of him, held out her hands to the two men whose naked hostility flared almost tangibly in the atmosphere.
'I could not fail to overhear your words, my lord,' John said through clenched teeth, but Fiona interrupted.
'Alex does not understand!' She turned to him, speaking calmly and evenly. 'Father began the custom of having our friends, the Emreys, sit at our table, but whether it was his innovation or mine you have no right to question it. I am the chieftain. Sir John and his family are owed much by us. He spent the last three years of Angus' life fighting beside him, and they were comrades, and his mother tended Angus when he died. Now John serves me and I will not permit you to insult him.'
Alexander stared down at her, a quizzical look in his eyes, but she bore his regard steadily, and he suddenly laughed and turned to John.
'I did not intend those words to be heard by you,' he said smoothly. 'I knew from Angus' letters you were his friend, and meant no insult. I feel – a degree of responsibility for my cousin, a woman with no man to protect her. Will you accept the apology of a boorish soldier too long absent from polite society?'
He held out his hand and John, his anger lessened, though he still resented the words, slowly raised his own to grasp it.
Alexander grinned engagingly and turned to Blanche.
'Am I also forgiven by you? Will you dance with me while your brother commiserates with my cousin for her deplorable family?'
He did not wait for an answer, but seized her hand and led her into the energetic reel that was about to begin, and she was laughing and dizzy as he whirled her about the room, finally lifting her high above him and spinning round with her at the wild conclusion of the dance.
As he set her down she grasped his arm to steady herself, and with a laugh he immediately slipped his arm about her waist and guided her to a settle near one of the huge hearths.
'Are you exhausted?' he asked, sitting beside her.
'Only for the moment,' she replied, tremblingly conscious he still had his arm round her. 'I wonder you have sufficient energy for this after riding all day.'
'I am not finished yet, by all means,' he warned. 'I want to take part in a sword dance later.'
He seemed content to sit and talk, however, and so adroit was he in questioning her, and so amusing were his comments, that she almost forgot his arm, left so negligently encircling her waist, until he suddenly hugged her and pulled her to her feet, saying they had rested long enough and she should dance again.
That was the last dance, apart from the sword dance which Alexander, seemingly tireless, demanded. He and some of the clansmen gave a most intricate, fascinating display, their feet moving so rapidly between and so perilously close to the sharp swords that Blanche held her breath in fear they would be injured.
At last she went wearily to bed, but she slept so badly that on the following morning there were dark rings round her eyes. Lady Emrey surveyed her in concern.
'You need some fresh air, Blanche,' she observed. 'I was intending to take this bundle of old clothes to Morag, but as I have many other things to do you can go in my stead.'
Blanche gladly agreed. Soon after they had come to Scotland her mother had begun to tend the castle servants and the old retainers, as well as many of the townsfolk, in the same way as she had helped their tenants at home. Lord Hugh had encouraged it, saying that his people had lacked such attentions since his wife had died, and in this way both Lady Emrey and her daughter had become well known, and always welcome when they visited the houses in the town.
Morag had been one of Lord Hugh's nursery maids, and had been held in especial affection by the whole family, but now she was over seventy years old, a great age, and had for many years been a widow.
Lady Emrey always made certain that well before the onset of winter she had plenty of warm clothing, and the bundle she had prepared contained shawls and knitted stockings. Blanche took it and set off for the town, for since her marriage Morag had lived in a tiny house just inside the main town gate. She passed through the castle gateway and then down a flight of steep steps. Below them she had to follow several narrow alleyways, all sloping away from the castle, until she came to the lower town. This was flat, but far less fascinating t
o Blanche than the twisting lanes huddled close to the castle walls.
While crossing the market place, Blanche stopped to inspect some of the stalls, for the wares displayed never ceased to please her. She was examining a belt of worked leather, marvelling at the intricate workmanship, when a voice behind her said, 'I will take the belt for the lady, Stephen.'
*
Blanche whirled round to see Alexander smiling down at her. He grinned at her startled expression, and took her bundle from her nerveless grasp. Holding her firmly by the elbow, he nodded at the stallholder who was bowing in ecstasy at the large coin that had been given him, and led her away.
'A fine piece of work, is it not?'
Blanche recovered her wits. 'I must not accept gifts from you, my lord,' she exclaimed, holding out the belt to him.
'Why ever not?'
'It – it is not right,' she said, blushing at his amused regard.
'I mean it as a gesture of repentance for my rudeness yesterday, so surely you will not reject it? If you do, I shall think I am still not forgiven. Besides, I cannot believe that so small a span will encircle your waist,' he added calmly, 'for 'tis no larger than I could compass with my hands!'
Somewhat flustered, Blanche still tried to protest, but he shook his head and tucked her hand in his arm.
'I meant no insult last night, I do assure you. I was startled, for when I was here before it was certainly no custom for any but the family to sit at that table. I did not realise my uncle had changed it, and as I know that Fiona must be very lonely I thought at first that she was being imposed on. Am I forgiven? Can we not be friends?'
Blanche could not continue to be cold, and he so skilfully put her at her ease he soon had her talking animatedly, telling him all about her home in England.
He was welcomed effusively by Morag, who was full of reminiscences about his escapades as a lad, and after they left the old woman he suggested that if Blanche were not too tired, they walked back to the castle around the top of the ramparts. She readily agreed, for although the walls of the town were not nearly so high as the castle, and somewhat battered in places, one could still obtain an excellent view from them of the surrounding countryside. By the time they returned to the castle Blanche was completely in charity with Alexander, finding him delightful and stimulating company. It was only after she had left him and gone to her mother's apartments that she thought of a reason for his efforts to charm her.
Highland Destiny Page 4