Whatever he’d imagined would happen when he shared the knowledge of his love with her, the bewilderment and disbelief in her gaze was not it. “But I have been hostile and hateful and rebellious and dishonest with you from the beginning. How could you love me?”
Sebastien released the latch, walked back to the bed and held out his hand to her. She took it and he entwined their fingers together.
“I have seen a woman who is brave in spite of the dangers around her, trusting in spite of her fears, loving to those she calls family and stubborn in her resistance to a man who was her enemy. All traits I admire, lady.”
A knock came on the door, reminding him of those waiting in the yard. “Now I must go and teach both Hugh and James a very important lesson in manners.”
He leaned over for a quick kiss and then left the room. Lara still sat in the same position with the same stunned expression as he strode past Malcolm and Philippe and ordered them to follow. As he made his way down the steps, through the hall and out into the yard, with the boys at his heels, he realized that she’d admitted to dishonesty. It did not surprise him, for he would do the same to protect those in his care and would excuse it on those grounds.
But, when would it stop? When would she trust him enough to come to him with whatever still haunted her and kept her from being completely his? He answered the question with the same words he’d spoken to her—when she gave him her heart.
Lara drifted through the day in a kind of haze. Sebastien had revealed so much to her, a glimpse of his childhood and of his heart. Astonished by his revelations, she struggled to think on it the rest of the day.
Had he truly said he loved her? Well, not in so many words, but he said he’d given her his heart, and what else could that mean? Lara sat in the solar, working on the tapestry again, and not having much success in figuring out her husband or in completing the section on which she toiled.
But, something was different this day. By the time she rose and dressed, Callum had asked to see her in the hall about the meals and about some household arrangements, Etienne had sent word about the newly completed storage rooms and Margaret approached her over the matter of marriage to Sir Hugh. The morning turned into a glimpse of what could be.
And the afternoon was beginning to follow that pattern as well—Lara was drawn into many activities she’d not done since her father had been in charge here. Callum sent her some trunks of clothing that Sebastien’s soldiers found in the storage rooms, as well as one containing her mother’s precious books, and along with Margaret’s and Catriona’s help, she sorted through them.
Lara was in the solar when she heard shouting outside. She looked out the window and was stunned by the scene unfolding before her. Both James and Sir Hugh faced Sebastien in the middle of the yard, barechested, with swords drawn. Many onlookers circled them and cheered them on. She could tell where James’s men stood, as well as her husband’s from their battle cries. Even Sir Hugh had a small group of noisy supporters.
The warriors offered a few taunts to each other and then the fight began. With sword and shield, they attacked and were fended off in turn. Although it appeared to be a friendly clash, soon the intensity grew until blood was flowing. Margaret joined Lara at the window and they both held their breath at the blows given and taken. Lara tried with all her will to keep from screaming aloud.
They were daft! Men were daft. Most likely, they were risking head and hand to settle some wager. James first disarmed, then knocked Sir Hugh to the ground and held him there with the point of his sword at his neck.
“Do you yield, Sir Hugh?” he called out, while fending Sebastien off with his shield.
“Aye,” Sir Hugh replied. And before Lara could say anything to her maid, Margaret was running from the room, her destination never in doubt.
Lara stood frozen in place there, watching as Sebastien went on the attack now, barely waiting for Sir Hugh to gain his feet and leave the fight. She held her breath and then gasped as each blow was struck. James Douglas was an incredible swordsman and there was never a moment’s hesitation in his attack. Sebastien seemed to be pacing himself and not allowing James to goad him into any rash movements.
A long while passed as the men, matched in strength and endurance, continued to swing and hit, duck and bend, twist and turn. Then Sebastien’s shield went flying out of his hand. Definitely at a disadvantage now, he maneuvered to James’s shield side. Charging and then feinting, he managed to get close enough to slide his sword under James’s and send it flying into the air.
Both men went running for it and Lara could hear herself murmuring Sebastien’s name, hoping that he reached it first. And she let out a little cry as he did. Now with both swords and his opponent with only a shield, he attacked and beat the other man back and to the ground.
“I yield,” the Black Douglas called out loudly.
“You what?” Sebastien demanded, holding his sword to the man’s throat.
“I yield to the Lord of Dunstaffnage!” James answered.
As though absorbing the support that poured forth from the men he commanded, Sebastien stood over the prone figure of Scotland’s most feared fighter with outstretched arms. Tears filled Lara’s eyes at the sight of it. She knew it was simply a challenge between friends, but watching it had been overwhelming to her—forcing her to see just a bit of what a real battle was like.
And the dangers of it.
James rolled to his feet and held out the now battered shield to his squire. Sebastien relinquished James’s sword to him and then the men bowed to each other and, turning, to the crowd that watched. The warrior leaned into Sebastien and spoke some words that only they could hear. Then, Sebastien handed his weapon to Philippe. Malcolm ran to his side and seemed to be asking many questions. Sebastien spent some time answering him and then waved both the lads off.
He had such patience with Malcolm’s boyish curiosity, and interest in all things connected to his training. He had patience with her own behavior and her delay in accepting their marriage or even his presence here as lord. She sighed. He had such patience when another man would have retaliated harshly.
That was probably why, despite her best efforts to the contrary, she was falling in love with him now.
Sebastien chose the moment of her realization to look up to the window where she stood. He met her gaze directly and she feared he could read her thoughts. More than once he seemed to have that ability, but she was not ready to show this to him yet. She nodded and stepped back from the window until she knew he could see her no longer.
Lara took a deep breath and waited to see how this new awareness would feel. It could not be a good thing, for there were so many problems involved.
“My lady?” Philippe broke into her daydreaming. “My lord asks you to join him in the yard.” The boy bowed very respectfully and waited for her answer.
“What is this about, Philippe?”
“I am not privy to my lord’s thinking, my lady. He simply bade me to carry this message to you. Oh, your pardon, lady. He bade me tell you to bring your cloak.”
He stood with such a serious look about him, as if delivering this message was a vitally important mission, that she did not have the heart to refuse this summons.
“Very well, Philippe. I will follow you in a moment.”
He appeared inordinately pleased and he bowed to her and left. Lara took her cloak from the peg near the door and went to see what Sebastien wanted of her. She discovered him waiting close to the place where he’d fought with James. His hair was wet and he tugged a tunic back over his head as she approached him.
“My lord,” she said, curtsying in greeting. “Felicitations on your victory over the Black Douglas.”
“He is standing right behind you, Lara. I would not want to celebrate or gloat until he leaves.”
She turned slowly and jumped when she discovered the man was truly a few feet from where she stood. Once more she lifted her hand to her brow to bless herself, until sh
e recognized what she was doing.
“My lady, I know the news will not engender any sense of loss to you, but I fear that my men and I must be about the king’s business,” the Douglas announced.
“Now, James?” She tried to keep the joy from her voice. If she spoke the truth, she would be much more comfortable once the Black Douglas was gone from here. And gone far away.
“Now, my lady.” He stepped closer and lifted her hand to his lips. “May I give your regards to the king when I see him next?” She noticed he did not release her hand.
“I have no doubt that you shall regale him with the story of our meeting, sir.”
“Just so, my lady. For now, until we meet again, enchanté.” He kissed her hand and then let it go.
“Merci, monsieur,” she answered…in the same courtly French. The same language the men had spoken in the hall when discussing their plans for taking the last remaining keeps holding out against the Bruce. Was this a trap?
“You see, Sebastien. Your lady is infinitely talented. She speaks the language of the court, in addition to Gaelic and,” he paused and looked at her directly when asking in that tongue, “English as well?”
“Yes, I speak all three and a smattering of Latin, although I do read it better than I speak or write it.”
Sebastien stepped closer to her. “It comes as no surprise to me, James. I have known for some time of her talents.”
Now she looked at him, for this seemed to be turning into a battle of words between the two men.
“Even before I met her, I knew of her vast education. She was, after all, the Maid of Lorne.” He smiled at her. “As the one who carries such a title, languages, writing and reading, and even the duties of chatelaine, were expected of her.”
“Well, Sebastien, now that we have established that your wife is a gifted woman, I must take my leave. The king and his business await.”
She answered his bow with a curtsy and waited while Sebastien escorted him to the gates. A few minutes later, her husband was back. She shivered from the uneasiness James caused in her.
“Is that a chill? The weather is exceptional today, but here now, let me help you with your cloak if you are cold.”
“I do not like that man,” she stated, shaking off his attempt to do so.
“I confess I have never heard him baiting someone as he did you. He’s used to having people simper around him.” Sebastien held out his arm and she laid hers on it, allowing him to guide her steps. “James is a simple man, truly. Only those who are a threat to Robert need fear him. Since he pledged himself to the Bruce, that is the overriding law of his life.”
Saying nothing would be better than attempting anything meaningful, so she nodded and followed his path.
“Are you not going to ask where we go?” Sebastien spoke in that deep and tempting tone that made her breathless.
“And would you tell me if I asked?” she asked.
“Nay, ’tis a surprise I’ve planned for us.”
“Then, my lord, lead on.”
The surprise was an afternoon away from the castle. Sebastien had two horses ready and they rode around the shoreline of the firth, exploring the beaches and even the caves where she’d played as a child and where Malcolm played more recently.
It was the first time since Sebastien’s arrival that she’d been permitted to ride, and she enjoyed every moment of it. They returned to the castle in time for the evening meal and it was one of the most pleasant she’d had in such a long time. With James gone, the tension was much diminished for her and, it would seem, for everyone in Dunstaffnage. Even Catriona was permitted to join them, and for a short time, Lara could forget her cares and worries.
Sebastien made love to her gently and silently that night and then simply held her within his embrace until they slept. It was at that moment when sleep came to claim her that she realized what was wrong with this perfect day.
It was the fifth day since her last visit with Eachann, and she had not gone to the church to meet him. She’d overheard the most significant information to give him since the day of Brander Pass, and she simply could not bring herself to do it.
How did you willingly betray someone you were falling in love with?
Chapter Fourteen
The next three days were just as exceptional, and everyone in Dunstaffnage scurried about trying to ready the castle, the keep and the outbuildings for the onslaught of the coming winter. Lara could also feel the growing tension within the soldiers, for they knew, as she did, that any battles would need to be fought before winter closed in. She simply was waiting for Sebastien to tell her that he was leaving soon to know that the plans were under way.
She’d missed the beginning of the man’s conversation, for it had taken her several minutes to make her way to the room without being seen by anyone. Once in place in the steward’s chamber, she’d heard the discussion about the king’s orders. There were three more battles to be fought in this area and they would happen within the next three weeks. The Black Douglas would lead one strike, her husband another, then they would combine their forces for the last one.
Later on, from her vantage point on the battlements, she watched as the new storage rooms over the kitchens were being completed. Dunstaffnage’s continued place in the Bruce’s plan for Scotland was assured by the work that Sebastien had ordered and overseen. On a grander scale, he wanted to build a new wall and extend the protection of the castle to include the barracks and the new stables. Due to the rock foundation, this addition would take several months, possibly years, and the work of hundreds of men to complete. So for now, while the Bruce’s focus must remain on fighting, only the necessary renovations were carried out.
After her daily walk around the high perimeter, Lara made her way to the kitchens, where the main tasks of the cook and his workers were butchering, salting and preserving the beef, mutton and pork they would need for the winter. Just as she reached the path to the doorway and stairs, someone bumped her from behind. Nearly falling, she was only stopped from doing so by the same person grabbing her shoulders and pulling her roughly to her feet. Lara spun around to see who it was and gasped.
Eachann MacDougall.
“Here now, my lady,” he said as he released her. Then he continued in a muted voice that only she could hear. “Hush now, Lara. I have but a moment here. I amno’ happy that you are avoiding me.” He had a cloak on and, with the hood pulled down low, his face was hidden.
Lara looked around to see if their exchange was noticed by anyone. No one seemed to be watching them. “I have nothing to tell you, Eachann,” she whispered. “So I will not be meeting you anymore.”
“Think ye no’? High and mighty, are ye now? Well, I have word from your father for you.” He closed the distance between them and took her arm. “Be there as I’ve told ye to be, and bring something personal of his.”
Lara shook, hearing her cousin’s angry and threatening tone of voice. He was unpredictable and dangerous. “What do you mean? Whose?”
“Dinna be playing the fool for me, Lara. Yer husband is who. Bring some personal tidbit or trinket of his.” He released her with a push.
“Lara!”
She turned and saw Malcolm running to her. He must not see Eachann. Facing her cousin, she whispered, “You must go now. Sebastien will hear of this.”
“Oh, I see how it is now. Sebastien, eh? If ye dinna bring me what I ask, I will be back. I can slip in and out of here with no one the wiser.”
“Go now, Eachann. Please,” she implored him. She did not want Malcolm to be in danger.
“I will be going. Do not disappoint me, lass. The next one I visit will be the boy,” he threatened as he nodded in her brother’s direction. “Be there.”
“Lara!” Malcolm called out again, and Lara turned her body to try to block Eachann from the boy’s view. She looked back over her shoulder and saw her cousin melting into the crowd in the yard.
“Malcolm! What is it?” She reached out and brush
ed his hair from his face.
Malcolm leaned over and looked behind her. “That looked like Cousin—”
“I did not see anyone, Malcolm. Here now, tell me what you are so excited about.”
Malcolm shook his head but did not ask again. In a few minutes he was so involved with his story about going fishing with Sebastien’s men that he forgot about who might or might not have been there. Lara walked with her brother to the gate and released him to Sebastien’s men after being reassured of their supervision. Then, she went to her chambers to try to figure out what to do about Eachann.
Once there, she glanced at Sebastien’s trunk. He never wore jewelry or any kind of decorative belt or badge. For what possible reason could her cousin need something of Sebastien’s? She might not understand his need for it, but she understood the clear threat if she did not provide it.
Malcolm.
She shuddered at the thought of Eachann gaining control of her brother. Her sister was not safe, either.
Mayhap if Lara gave some trinket to Eachann he would leave and not come back. She could convince him that this area, indeed Scotland itself, would be completely in the Bruce’s control soon, and then Robert would turn his sights on the English.
Lara walked to the corner and carefully opened Sebastien’s trunk. Looking through it would not be amiss, since she was the one who usually placed his cleaned garments there. After a minute of just thinking on it, she convinced herself that there would be no harm in seeing what lay at the bottom. Sliding her hands under the layers of cloth, she lifted them up to check beneath them.
She did not notice the pouch at first, for it was tucked into a small pocket in the lining of the trunk. She moved the clothes aside and slid the leather pouch free, untying the laces and tugging it open. It felt empty, but when she turned it over, two objects fell into her palm—a gold cross and a bejeweled ring.
She examined both items closely. The cross was plain, with no markings, and it was tied onto a leather strip that served in the absence of a matching chain. The ring had a large blue gem on the front and an inscription on the back that she could not read in the shadows of the chamber. When she would have moved nearer to the window for a better view of it, she heard someone climbing the steps toward the chamber.
The Maid of Lorne Page 14