"These MacDonalds are certainly big handsome fellows, are they not?" Nelly commented. "The lord looks like his brother of Nairn, I’m thinking, despite their different coloring."
"Ummmm," Fiona answered her absently. She was far more interested in the castle that they were now approaching, for it appeared even from a distance to be larger and grander than she would have expected. Everyone always said that the MacDonalds were savages, but the Lord of the Isles had hardly appeared that, and his castle looked very impressive. It stood upon the highest point on Islay, a low rocky hill slightly larger than the other few hills on the island. There were four square towers, one at each compass point of the dark stone walls, which were unmarked by any opening. Its entry, with walls half as high as the main walls, had two small rounded towers halfway up the stone. There were massive oaken doors over which was drawn an iron yett, or grille, each night.
As they drew closer, Nelly remarked, "It looks a fearsome place, my lady. I think I am glad we will be here but a short while."
"It may be paradise compared to Nairns Craig," Fiona said in reply. "It is surely not Brae." There was a wistfulness in her tone.
They rode through the gates into a small courtyard. After dismounting, the women followed the MacDonald brothers through another heavy gate into a larger courtyard. It was like going from night into day. Here there was a camomile lawn beneath their feet, and a garden blooming with late roses, Mary's gold, and fragrant herbs. A slope-roofed house was built into two sides of the wall. They mounted the steps and entered the house.
"I'm sorry my wife is not here to greet ye, my bonnie," The MacDonald apologized, “but she is off with my lady mother to their estates in Ross. I fear ye will be gone before they return, but perhaps when ye bring yer first son to Islay ye will meet them." Then he swiftly directed the servants who came at his entrance to take Fiona and Nelly to their apartment and give them whatever they desired. "Come with me, Nairn," he said to his brother. "I would hear what ye have to tell me before ye take yer ease. I would know all about James Stewart."
"If ye would know all about him," Fiona interjected, "then ye should speak to me, too, my lord. I know the king well, as he was Black Angus's best friend. I was also in the service of the queen, and count myself among her friends. Women speak of more than gowns and household matters." She smiled prettily at him.
"Ye are obviously loyal to James Stewart, madam," The MacDonald said. "Why would ye help me?"
"My lord," Fiona said with perfect logic, "I would help ye better understand the king so that ye will swear yer fealty to him. Nairn can give you but impressions of what he saw and thinks. I lived within the royal enclosure. I was with the king and queen for several months. Yer brother has stolen me from the laird of Loch Brae. Since I canna go back, I must make my peace with what I have. Tonight I will handfast myself to Colin MacDonald. Aye, I heard you tell your plan, my lord of Nairn." She looked from Colin to his brother. "I will one day bear his bairns. MacDonald bairns, my lord. I don't want to see my lord, his family, and my own offspring sacrificed in the unending warfare that has wracked Scotland these many years. If I can help ye to make yer peace with the king, I would do so for the sake of Nairn and for our unborn children."
"She's clever as well as bonnie," The MacDonald said to his brother. Then he beckoned Fiona. "Verra well, lass, come with us. I'm a fair-minded man and will listen to what ye have to say."
"Go and unpack what little we have," Fiona instructed Nelly, and then she followed after the two men.
In the Lord of the Isles' privy chamber, a small stone room with a fireplace flanked by stone griffins, a fine tapestry hung from the wall opposite a window with a view of the garden. They ensconced themselves-the lord in a high-backed chair with a tapestry seat, and his companions on an oak settle facing him. A servant brought them each a silver goblet of pungent wine, then discreetly withdrew.
"First," Alexander MacDonald said, "tell me what he looks like, Nairn. I heard he is a wee man."
"He is of medium height but strongly built."
"He is a skilled warrior who fought in France with Henry V," Fiona said. “That king personally trained James Stewart in the arts of warfare. He is proficient with weapons of all kinds, including a crossbow."
"The crossbow?" The lord cocked a dark eyebrow.
"Aye, my lord, and the king has made it law that all young men must learn to use such a weapon so that Scotland quickly will have an armed force like the English," Fiona said.
" 'Tis cleverly done," the lord noted, "and not a bad idea at all… What kind of a man do ye ascertain him to be, Nairn?"
"A verra determined one, brother. He is not a feeble-minded weakling like his father before him was. He is strong-willed, and bound to rule Scotland as it has never before been ruled."
"Is he like old Albany, then?"
"Many compare him to The Bruce," Fiona said quietly. "A great soldier but a better governor in that he already knows how to rule."
Colin MacDonald nodded in agreement with her.
"Can he be bought like old Albany?" the lord wondered.
"No, brother, I don't believe he can. He is an honorable man, if a stubborn one, with a keen sense of justice."
"How stubborn, I wonder."
"He is so resolved to rule Scotland, to bring peace and real prosperity," Fiona said, "that he has decided to execute the most troublesome of his relations. The year will not end before Duke Murdoch and his ilk have gone to whatever fate awaits them on the other side of the door."
"How do ye know such a thing?" the lord asked her, fascinated to hear so intimate a disclosure.
"My lord," Fiona said, "I told ye that I lived within the royal residence. Neither the king nor the queen were shy about speaking their minds within the privacy of their own apartments. We all heard the king planning."
"Would none warn Duke Murdoch?" the Lord of the Isles asked.
Fiona laughed. "No, my lord. None would dare betray this king for fear of the civil unrest that would follow, and in far greater fear of what the king would do to the tattler. Besides, those of us who served their majesties love him."
"Would ye swear yer fealty to this king, Fiona Hay?"
"I already have done so, my lord," she told him honestly. "As chief tain of my family it was my duty to do so. My lands, poor as they are, have been reconfirmed mine by the king. The laird of Loch Brae holds j my grandfather's lands in the glen, but the ben is mine."
"Do ye think I should pledge my loyalty to this James Stewart?" Alexander MacDonald asked her craftily.
"I think, my lord, that ye will come to yer own decision, and do what ye believe right for yer own clan."
The Lord of the Isles burst out laughing. "Nairn," he said to his brother, "ye had best beware this lass ye are so determined to take as a wife. She is far cleverer than ye are. I believe I am content to see ye in such competent hands. She will bear yer bairns, control yer mam, manage yer household, and keep ye from yer own folly so ye may continue to be of use to me. Ye have chosen well, although ye chose her with yer randy prick, and not yer head."
"I chose her with my heart," Colin MacDonald said quietly. He was pleased that Fiona met with his brother's strong approval, and prouder yet that she would be so candid about the Stewart king with Alex.
"Take her to yer apartment, brother," the lord said, "and prepare for the handfasting in the hall tonight."
They departed the lord's privy chamber. Nairn led her with unerring familiarity through the castle to a comfortable apartment that had been prepared for them. To Fiona's delight a large oaken tub stood in the bedchamber before a roaring fire. Nelly was grinning.
"I asked, and they brought it, my lady," she said, pleased.
"Ye’ll have to brush my skirt well, though I doubt we'll ever get all the dust from it," Fiona said. She turned to Nairn. "If 1 had the cart, I would have a respectable gown to wear into yer brother's hall this night." She sighed. "Praise God yer sister-in-law is not here, or ye should be truly shamed."
/> "Ye have a decent gown, my lady!" Nelly crowed. "The lord Colin suggested I pack one gown for ye along with yer jewelry. The violet damask was the one I thought would pack best. I've already hung it out, and it has hardly a wrinkle in it."
Fiona turned to Nairn. " 'Twas clever of ye," she said by way of thanks. "I would not embarrass ye, my lord. Not in public."
He nodded, saying gruffly, "Have yer bath, sweeting. I can wash when ye are through. I'll fetch a clean shirt from my brother."
"Ye could bathe with me," she said softly. Her smile was enticing.
"We'd not reach the hall this night if I did," he told her, his look smoldering. Then he left her, closing the chamber door firmly behind him.
"He truly loves ye," Nelly said to her mistress.
"Don't say it," Fiona told her. "If I can but do what the king requires of me without betraying him or his family, I will count myself fortunate. Do ye think I don't see the way he looks at me? Ah, Nelly, if I had not been so stubborn, I should be at Brae with my own Black Angus now."
"Don't take all the blame upon yerself, mistress," Nelly said in practical tones. "The laird was just as stubborn as ye. He has always been a difficult man, my aunt Una said. 'Tis mostly his fault." As she spoke, she helped Fiona divest herself of her clothing, then settled her in the large oaken tub. "Soak yerself a moment," she told her lady. "I want to go brush this skirt for ye and fetch yer clean chemise."
Fiona nodded and closed her eyes. The water in the tub was actually hot, and it felt wonderful. How many days had she washed herself in the cold waters of highland lochs or icy running mountain streams? This was absolute heaven. She sighed with bliss and let the heat penetrate her body. It seemed a hundred years since she had been really warm, and she believed she could remain there in the hot water forever. Finally, however, she opened her eyes, taking up the little scrubbing cloth and tiny cake of soap Nelly had left her. Fiona washed her face, appalled at the dirt that came off it.
Nelly returned, laying the clean chemise across the bed, then washed her mistress's long black hair and scrubbed her back. She pinned the wet hair upon Fiona's head and urged her to finish her bath. When Fiona stepped from the tub, Nelly dried her off briskly, wrapped her in the toweling, and began to dry her lady's dark hair, rubbing and brushing the water from it near the heat of the fire. Satisfied at last, she helped Fiona into her clean chemise and tucked her into the bed.
"Now ye rest a bit," she counseled. "I'll dry the toweling before the fire for his lordship when he comes to bathe."
Fiona never heard her, for she had fallen fast asleep. The lord's fine wine, the hot water of the bath, the heat of the fire had conspired to lull her. She awoke to the sounds of splashing, and Nelly's giggles.
"Oh, my lord, yer a wicked laddie, and that's for certain!" Nelly said. "Now cease yer teasing, and let me get that fiery head of yers clean. I vow ye have enough soil in it to grow cabbages."
" 'Tis true," Fiona heard Colin MacDonald say. "Ye have stolen Roderick Dhu's flinty heart, little Nelly. He'll be wanting yer hand in marriage, mark my words. I can only hope yer not toying with him."
"I'm not toying with the big dour ox at all, my lord," Nelly protested vehemently. "Why, the man doesn't know me!"
"He knows ye have a sweet smile and pretty titties," Nairn teased.
"My lord!" Nelly's indignant voice was enough to wake the dead. " 'Tis a shameful thing to say, and I'd not have any man who didn't walk out with me, and court me proper-like. I'm not some kiss-me-quick and under-the-hedge-with-ye kind of lass, ye know!"
Nairn roared with laughter, suddenly cut off when Nelly dumped a small bucket of clean water over his head to rinse it. From her bed Fiona listened to them and chuckled softly. Her conscience was beginning to plague her again. If only The MacDonald of Nairn were not such a charming man… but he was. In a short while she would hand-fast herself to him in marriage only because she could not bear to contract an honest union with him, for whatever her fate, and despite the fact that Angus Gordon would marry Elizabeth Williams to please the king and queen, Fiona Hay loved the laird of Loch Brae.
She would never be his again, and it would have been so easy to draw the warmth of Colin MacDonald's love about her, but she would not. She hated the lie that James Stewart was forcing her to live, but she could not compound it by marrying this man in God's name when one day she might have to betray him. The handfast marriage was to please Nairn. To allay his suspicions. To give a name, and legitimacy, to Angus Gordon's child, who was even now growing beneath her heart-and whom she would pass off as The MacDonald of Nairn's bairn when she eventually announced her delicate condition.
Chapter 9
The Great Hall at Islay Castle was larger than Brae but not as large as Scone. It was, nonetheless, a fine hall with two great baronial fireplaces, beautifully woven tapestries upon its gray stone walls, and silken battle flags hanging from its carved rafters. The floor was swept clean, for, as the Lord of the Isles explained to Fiona, his wife did not like rushes. It only encouraged peeing in the corners and the disposal of unwanted food, which the hounds sometimes ate. The high board was laid with a fine white cloth and held a silver candelabra with beeswax candles. The rest of the castle's inhabitants ate at the trestles below.
There were but five places set at the high board. Fiona was seated next to the Lord of the Isles himself in the place of honor. Nairn was to his brother's left. To his left his brother's captain, another of the half-brothers, Owen MacDonald, sat. To Fiona's right was a priest, whom the Lord of the Isles introduced to her as Father Ninian.
"He travels the highlands ministering to those in far-flung regions," Alexander MacDonald said. “We are fortunate to see him twice a year, sometimes three."
The priest greeted Fiona. "God be with ye, my lady."
"I thank ye, Father," she replied. "Will ye hear my confession?"
"Of course, my child," he answered her, "but I should far rather perform yer marriage this night."
Fiona shook her head. "Nairn has stolen me," she said low. "I will handfast him for my reputation's sake, but I must find peace within my own soul before I can stand beside him in the church before a priest. Please understand, Father."
The priest nodded. "I will pray for ye both."
Fiona turned to her host. "And where are yer sons, my lord?"
"They have gone with their mother," he replied. "Their company pleases her."
"My lord"-Father Ninian interrupted their conversation-"I would hear this lady's confession before the handfast, not after." He smiled briefly at them to lessen the rebuke in his tone.
"Aye," Alexander MacDonald agreed with a grin. " 'Tis better she unburden herself now, for later her sins could be worse!" He winked at his brother. "Eh, Nairn?"
The priest arose, and Fiona followed him from the hall. He led her to the chapel and into a small privy chamber. "Now, my child," he said, "if ye would like to unburden yerself to me…"
Fiona looked carefully about her. Shutting the door softly, she pulled the king's coin from her pocket and handed it to the priest.
His face betrayed nothing as he carefully examined it, matching it against his own identical coin. Then he said softly, "Where did ye obtain this, my child?"
"From James Stewart himself," Fiona said in even lower tones.
"Tell me yer story," Father Ninian responded, listening as the beautiful young woman before him spoke quickly yet succinctly of her history. When her narrative had come to an end, the priest said, "Now I understand why ye would not take Nairn in the sacrament of marriage, but ye know, do ye not, that the handfast is just as binding under law, both civil and church? And ye'll surely conceive a bairn, for the MacDonalds are prolific breeders. What of any child?"
"I am already with child," Fiona told him, holding up her hand for his silence while she explained. "The bairn is not Nairn's, although I will lead him to believe it is for the safety of my infant. Had I been certain before I left Scone, I would not have let the king force
me to this, but I was not certain. I feared that if I bled after telling the king I was with child, he would have believed me lying to have my own way and deceive him. I have learned, good Father, that ye canna trust the words of the mighty. Unable to punish me, he might have punished my Black Angus." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I could not let Angus Gordon suffer for me."
The priest nodded, his heart sad. So much suffering for their blessed Scotland, but one day with sacrifices such as those Fiona Hay was making, the land would surely know peace. He handed her back her coin. "Do ye need something passed on, my child?"
"Tell the king that the Lord of the Isles will bide his time for now until he decides just how determined James Stewart is to rule all of Scotland. For the present, Alexander MacDonald will remain at peace in the highlands, but while some of the northern and western clans may swear fealty, most of the clans will wait to see what he is going to do. That I have from his own mouth."
"The king will have yer message verra soon, I promise ye. I had planned to spend some time here on Islay, but I will shortly take my own departure. Drysdale, our tinker friend, will soon be heading south for the winter months. 'Tis he who will carry yer message. Now, so we may not be accused of deception, ye will make yer confession to me."
"I thought I already had," Fiona said softly.
The priest considered, and then he said, “Why, so ye have, my child, so ye have. Kneel and receive my blessing."
"What is my penance?" Fiona asked him.
"In honor of yer marriage," Father Ninian said, "I will absolve ye of any penance, Fiona Hay. Ye have been given a verra hard road to take." He raised his hand in blessing over the penitent.
They returned to the Great Hall of Islay Castle. The clansmen, respectful, made clear that they thought the bride very beautiful. She wore her violet damask gown. It had a short waist that was fitted just below her breasts, a simple rounded neck, a full flowing skirt, and long flaring sleeves that were lined in a reddish-purple gauze shot through with silver stripes. Her hair was parted in the center and held by a silver caul. She had chosen to wear no jewelry except her clan badge despite Nelly's insistence. Save for that badge, it was all Angus Gordon's jewelry. Though she possessed it, she would never wear it again. One day she would tell her child the truth and pass it on to the bairn, but Fiona did not think she had any right to the jewelry now. Nairn agreed with her decision not to wear it. He would give her her own gems, he promised.
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