by Arial Burnz
Ian’s inconsistent moods made her guarded at all times. One moment he displayed loving attention and whispered promises; the next he blamed her for whatever fouled his mood. Her mind spun with the torrent of various accusations and reasons for his shifting disposition. At times, Davina could hardly tell up from down and all rationalizations fell short to the chaos of her circumstances. Seeing her father come to her defense and knowing he did have eyes to see the truth, she gripped the wall to steady her legs buckling from sheer relief. She wasn’t crazy! She wasn’t at fault!
“Hold your coffers, then, Munro. Until Ian can prove to be gentler to Davina, she’ll come back home here and the courtship will begin anew.”
Ian snapped his head toward his father, and Munro dropped his mouth open. “Now, Parlan, I believe that’s going a bit too far. There is no need to upset Davina with having to move her back here and endure the instability of a shifting home life.”
“A safe and loving home life is better than the holdings she has endured under your roof. I will make arrangements to have her things brought back at once.” Parlan narrowed his eyes on Ian. “You want those covetous connections to the crown, lad, you had better prove yourself to be a doting husband, worthy of the fruit of my grandchildren.”
Davina fought to calm the thundering of her heart, thrumming out of control. She would be home!
“Parlan.” Munro put a comforting hand upon her father’s shoulder. “I can assure you Davina will be safe under my roof. Now that I’m aware of the situation—”
“The mistreatment was happening under your nose and you could not see it!” Parlan roared.
Munro bowed his head, backing away, and nodded. “You are correct, Parlan. I cannot express the grief of my ignorance over the pain I have caused your precious daughter. I have come to see Davina as the daughter I have always wanted and regret that my wife did not live to know her.” Munro turned away to submit to forlorn pacing, his hands behind his back, a vision of repentance. “Methinks if Ian had the loving influence of my wife, he might have learned to be a kinder husband. I fear my attention to matters of estate and wealth gave me little time with him, so I failed in my duty to teach him such things.” Turning sorrowful eyes to Parlan, Munro pleaded his case. “I understand your decision, and if you wish to maintain your position, I won’t fight you. Nevertheless, I implore you to give me the chance to set this right. My eyes are opened and I will be Davina’s protector. I will maintain control over Ian.”
Davina waited, her breath caught in her chest, as she dared to hope in the safety her father offered. The moments stretched on endlessly as she watched Parlan consider Munro’s words. With a deep sigh, he nodded. “I will concede.”
Davina dropped her mouth open and her heart plummeted into the depths of her being.
“On one condition: You will all stay here as our guests for a fortnight or more. I wish to spend time with my daughter and give her a chance of reprieve and a period of observation over your son.” Parlan pointed a finger at Munro’s face and snarled his lips. “But if I see the tiniest sign of sorrow in my daughter’s eyes, any hint of a mark on her body, if I don’t see her demeanor change to that of a blissfully happy woman in a short time, I’m dissolving this marriage, and I care not what scandal it causes or what it costs me.”
Munro tightened his jaw and his eyes grew cold. “Aye, I’m sure scandal is something you’re well-equipped to handle, considering your background.”
Parlan’s face flushed crimson. “Regardless of my background,” he gritted, “I’m still the one who has the connections to the crown, and not just through my illegitimate birth. Being nursery mates and close cousin to the one currently on the throne has its privileges.”
The two men stared at each other in a silent contest, but a broad smile eventually broke across Munro’s face. “Not to worry, my friend! You won’t be disappointed. Ian will be a model son-in-law, and we will have many grandchildren to be proud of!” Munro’s hearty slaps on Parlan’s back did nothing to wipe away the determined line of Parlan’s mouth, but he still nodded his assent.
Davina gulped down the new tears of dismay that threatened to give her away. Easing back from the doorway, she padded silently down the hall, away from this meeting of men, this gathering of male dominance deciding a doom-filled destiny for her life. As she staggered through the kitchen, out into the empty courtyard and behind the stables, her heart sank even further at the idea of Munro’s protection in which she had no faith. She had never said a word to her father, and Parlan knew Ian was maltreating her in the few visits her parents had paid her, or their brief visits back to her home. How could Munro stand there feigning ignorance of what happened under his own roof? She sank down onto a small pile of straw behind some rain barrels, pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms, letting her tears flow.
Not once during this horror and farce of a marriage had she confided in her brother Kehr. Even now, she couldn’t go to him, as he was away in Edinburgh, at least three day’s journey from their home in Stewart Glen. Why she never shared any of her woes about Ian with her brother, she couldn’t reason at this moment. She shared everything with him, including her fantasies of being the wife of the Gypsy fortune teller. Not the intimate details, of course, but the ideas of him coming back and declaring his true love. She had been grateful her brother was accepting of her dreams, though he did tease her from time to time. Kehr was always supportive, but he did caution her not to get too wrapped up in her dream world. It was, after all, a fantasy.
Drawing in a deep breath, she calmed her thumping heart and shaking hands, seeking her fantasies to ease her worry. What an impression he had made on her, the giant Gypsy fortune teller. She had enjoyed many trips to the Gypsy camp during their last stay, conversing with Amice while they sipped tea by the fire. Hardly glancing at Davina, Broderick came and went, telling fortunes and going about his business. Too shy to address him directly, Davina drank in every opportunity she saw him, her infatuation growing. And when he did address her, she couldn’t form more than two words without a flurry of giggles. But she memorized every feature of Broderick’s face—the curve of his hawk-like nose, the handsome angle of his cheekbones, the set line of his square jaw. At the tender age of thirteen, innocence and inexperience flavored her daydreams with strolls through moonlit forests and stolen kisses. As she grew older, those fantasies matured and burned with passion-filled embraces. Amice said they would return. In the eight years since she met him, every group of Gypsies traveling through their little village of Stewart Glen set her heart aflame, only to be doused by the disappointment of his not being amongst them. When her father made the marriage contract with Munro, giving her hand to Ian, she forced herself to abandon her dreams and come to the realistic conclusion she had to put her whimsies aside, as her brother encouraged.
The dark reality of this union with Ian, though, resurrected those fantasies and she clung to them with her life.
Kittens mewed somewhere in the stables, their helpless little cries drawing her attention and turning the corners of her mouth up in sympathy. She sighed. At least her heart stopped pounding, and her hands were steady once more.
Leaning her head against the wooden structure of the stables, she stared at the stones of the perimeter wall across the way…stones that her father placed by his own hands. She smiled as she recalled his attempt at engineering the secret opening located in the north side of the perimeter wall, at the back of their grounds just to her left. He complained how imperfect the mechanisms were. Kehr and Davina delighted in using the secret passage for fun through the years, though with stern warning from their father not to give away its whereabouts. Though their home was not designed to be a formidable fortress against an army, the walls did keep them safe by directing all traffic through the front gates. Parlan was ever mindful of his family, as a responsible father should be.
She started at a clatter on the other side of the wall and held her hand to her breast, forcing
her breathing to slow. Not moving a muscle or daring to breathe, she waited for any other sounds to reveal what happened. The blood drained from her face as Ian’s grumbling reached her ears. Deep, nervous protests rumbled from the horses in the stables as Ian kicked what sounded like buckets or stools. “Bitch! This is all her fault!” The jangling of buckles and tack sounded amongst the commotion. “Hold still, you stupid animal!”
Davina inched into a crouching position from her seat on the ground, and peered through the cracks in the shutters of the opening above her. Ian struggled to saddle his horse. She winced at each tug and shove the horse endured from his master, until their stableman Fife cleared his throat when he stepped up to the stall. “Can I be of assistance, Master Ian?”
Ian recoiled at Fife’s voice and then took a calming breath, backing away from the horse. “Aye, Fife, I would appreciate that.”
Davina’s heart twisted at the sight of Ian’s handsome smile and charming air. He had been that way with her during their courtship, but now showed that side of his personality to everyone but her. Little did people suspect the ruthless man beneath the attractive exterior.
“Something upsets you, Master Ian?” Fife rubbed his large, round nose, squinting his age-lined eyes as he patted the horse’s neck and walked around the other side to secure the leather straps.
“Oh, just a little disagreement with my father. Nothing serious.” Ian grinned and shook his head. “Do we ever stop having disagreements with our parents, I wonder?”
Fife chuckled and shook his head, dropping his guard. “‘Tis an endless battle we must endure a lifetime, lad. A lifetime.” They both shared a laugh in this wisdom. Fife handed the reins over to Ian. “Be easy on her, Master Ian. Have a good run to ease your tension and be back in time for supper.”
Ian shook his head good-naturedly and mounted his trim form into the saddle. “I feel I have more than one father around here with the way you and Parlan dote over me.”
“Just lookin’ out for you, Master Ian.” Fife waved as he watched Ian turn his horse and head for the front gate. “Nice lad,” he whispered as he straightened up the stables.
Davina bit her lower lip in frustration. Was she the only one who understood Ian’s cruelty? Clenching her fists, she marched from behind the stables and headed back to the castle, Fife giving her a puzzled glance as she closed the door behind her. Nay, she wasn’t the only one. Her father had eyes to see, and she would be sure he knew the extent of Ian’s brutality.
She headed straight back to the parlor, but found the room empty, the fire still burning in the hearth. Turning on her heels, she almost bumped into her mother.
“Oh! Davina, you gave me a start!” Lilias put a hand to her breast and caught her breath. “Your father sent me to fetch you.”
“I was just looking for him, myself.”
Taking her daughter’s hand, Lilias led Davina through the ground floor of their home to the first floor, housing the private bedchambers. Every stone they passed on their way to her parents’ chamber reminded Davina of the pride in her father’s efforts, and the confidence in his wisdom to listen to her pleas.
When her mother opened the door to their chamber, Lilias ushered Davina through, closed the heavy door behind them, and sat on the lounging couch by the fire taking a quiet, yet supportive place at her husband’s side. Parlan stood at the hearth, his back to the door, much the way he had in the parlor. “I’m not sure how much you heard outside the parlor, Davina, but I am sorry the conversation caused you such distress.” He turned to face her, his eyebrows scrunched in sorrow. “Fear not, I was the only one who witnessed your tearful retreat.” His last words were a comforting whisper.
Davina drew her quivering lip between her teeth to steady it and stand strong before her father. “‘Tis nothing you caused, Da. I’m grateful to know you’re aware of my situation.” Her voice trembled, but she cleared her throat and kept her tears at bay. “I was on my way into the parlor to fetch my embroidery when my father-in-law begged for your forgiveness for my husband.”
Parlan’s eyebrows rose, apparently surprised she heard so much. He nodded. “Then you know Ian’s punishment for his inability to manage his responsibilities.”
She nodded.
After a long pause, he said, “I realize the condition of this arrangement sounds like I’m sending you back into the lion’s den.” Parlan studied the soft brown leather of his boots before returning his gaze to her. “Ian is especially not happy about the tightening of his purse, which I trust Munro to enforce. That’s why I’m insisting they stay here under my roof, so I can give you a measure of safety and assurance you will be protected.”
Davina let the flood of her sorrow loose. “Da, please don’t let me endure another moment of this union! Can we not do as you said and dissolve this marriage?”
Parlan tightened his jaw and turned his sorrowful eyes toward his wife. Lilias grabbed his hand, seeming to give him support. “Davina, the Russells provide immense business opportunities, both for me and your brother, and I cannot rely on my cousin the King forever. We must make efforts to increase our holdings on our own.” Focusing back on Davina, he stepped toward her and took both of her hands into his. “I’m sorry you endured more than any woman’s share of heavy-handedness from your husband. Now that I can deny his treatment of you no more, I hope you can forgive me for not speaking for you sooner. I will take measures to ensure you’re protected, and with your help, methinks we can make this work.”
Davina exerted great effort to speak over the lump forming in her throat. “Be the gentle hand to tame the beast,” she whispered, repeating the words of her father-in-law.
Parlan nodded. “Munro has obviously done a poor job of showing Ian how to be a man. Your stay, their stay here will be indefinite. Ian and Munro will each be staying in the guest rooms above, and you will, again, have your room to yourself on this level. I have pressed the matter further with Munro, and we will both be supervising Ian’s behavior over the next several weeks. Munro has humbly accepted my guidance as a father, and Lilias as a mother, to put Ian on the right path. Only when we see improvement will you be allowed to venture back to their home. Only when I feel confident you will be cherished and taken care of as the precious woman you are, will you be allowed to go with them.”
Though relieved the beatings and cruel sexual engagements would stop, Davina’s world still crumbled about her. “Da, you don’t know the true Ian. He’s a master of donning a mask of charm over the monster he is. He’ll—”
“Davina, there is no way I will let him harm you. I agree that he takes his responsibilities too far in exercising his dominion as a husband, but he isn’t a danger to your life. If I thought he was, I would dissolve this marriage now. We will protect you.” Davina hated knowing her family believed she had a flare for the dramatic. He kissed her forehead and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I won’t let him harm you. You must do this for your family. One day, when Ian has learned his role and duties as a husband, you may grow to forgive and love him. If not, you may at least find solace in the children you will have one day.”
She let her tears flow, wetting her father’s tunic and holding him tight for strength as she submitted to his wishes. She would be the sacrificial lamb for the stability of her family’s future.
* * * * *
Steel clashing against steel rang about the air, bouncing off the walls and high ceiling of the Great Hall, which mingled with the grunts, panting, and groans of Kehr and Ian as they dueled. Kehr parried Ian’s thrust, turned around, and swatted Ian’s open side, initiating a grunt from him. With a grin on his face, Ian shoved Kehr forward, and Kehr returned the grin with his own thrust; however, Ian effectively blocked with his shield.
“Good!” Kehr encouraged.
“Thank you!” Ian said with another slash of his sword, which Kehr dodged.
Davina smiled at her brother, warmed by his presence. He had finally come home after a long stay in Edinburgh visiting at
court. He only just arrived, late the previous evening, and though she anticipated his arrival and the opportunity to spend time with him, the news about King James’s visiting apparition sent her spirits sinking.
All of Scotland was abuzz with the King’s experience, and Kehr had relayed the story with a grand reenactment in the parlor. With a fire blazing in the hearth, casting ominous shadows across the room, her family sat in a circle, fixed on Kehr’s dramatic performance.
“‘Bow before the King of Scotland!’ the king’s advisor bellowed as he chased after the man who burst into the king’s private prayer chambers.” Kehr imitated Marshall John Inglis, running after the intruder. “But the king raised his hand and stayed his advisors, for the man stopped before he reached his majesty.”
Ripples of laughter circulated the room, and Davina put her hand upon her mouth to stifle her own chuckles. “And you say I have a penchant for drama!” she teased.
Kehr laughed at the interruption, but proceeded. “‘Enough,’ said the king. ‘Let him speak.’ After they stared at each other for a long stretch of silence, the man reached forward,” Kehr mimed the actions of the intruder, bending forward with his fist before him. “And yanked his majesty by his tunic, saying, ‘Sir King, my mother has sent me to you, desiring you not to go where you are purposed.’” Kehr’s brow furrowed with the grave message the man delivered to the king. “‘If you do, you shall not fare well in your journey, nor none that is with you.’” Kehr stalked along the edge of those seated around the room, looking each of them in the eye. Davina shook her head at the pause he used for effect. Kehr centered before his audience. “And just like that…” Kehr snapped his fingers. “The man vanished like a blink in the sun!” The family gasped and murmured to each other. Kehr shrugged his shoulders. “And so the king has decided not to declare war on England.”