A Knight To Call My Own

by Sherry Ewing

  “You know why I could not stay.”

  “Aye, you were in love with Amiria. How could I ever forget for even the briefest of instances that I was a poor substitute for my sister?”

  “That is not true, and you know such talk to be a falsehood, Lynet.” Ian watched her in the moonlight. He had the distinct feeling he was losing another battle as he saw her slipping away.

  She had a far off look in her eyes as she continued on. “Rolf was the captain of my guard since I was but a girl of ten and four. He was more than just a protector who Dristan assigned to safeguard me night and day. He watched me over the years as I languished away for a man who gave me no further thought ’til he needed a bride. He saw my tears and wiped them away. He saw my broken heart and tried to heal it with laughter. He made me try to forget you, but ’twas not easily done. In his heart, he knew he could never be the replacement of what you meant to me, even though he wished differently.”

  Ian leaned a shoulder up against the tree, trying to not let the ugly emotion of jealousy get the better of him. “Yet, still you profess to love him.”

  “You mistook my words when I said I loved him, since you did not allow me to finish my thoughts.”

  “Then finish them now,” he said abruptly, but fearing what she might confess.

  “Aye, I loved and cared for Rolf as my friend, but I was not in love with him. There is a difference, as you well should know.”

  Ian pushed off the tree and crossed the distance between them. He reached out for her, but she swatted his hand.

  “I told you not to touch me,” she reiterated.

  Renewed anger flared inside Ian. “You are in shock from all you have been through, but you are still my wife,” he declared.

  “Mayhap, we made a mistake,” Lynet said solemnly.

  “We made no mistake. You are my wife,” Ian growled.

  “I want to go home.”

  “We are going home…to Urquhart. I am needed there, and as my bride, your place now resides in the Highlands, alongside your laird. You spoke our vows just as willingly as did I with no time restraint to our agreement.” Ian heard a low curse pass her lips.

  “So, now I have become a prisoner again, only with a different master, is that it?” Her eyes flashed in fury, and Ian had to admit he liked this side of her more than when she had been weeping, even though he understood her grief. Such emotion gave him hope that, perchance, all was not lost between them.

  Ian gave a casual shrug. “If that is how you wish to look upon our lives, then so be it. Master or laird, husband or enemy, you will resign yourself that you belong to me.”

  He left her there as she blasphemed his name for not taking her back to Berwyck. His previous thoughts of how happy their lives would be flashed afore his memory, even as he realized he had a long road ahead of him in order to win Lynet’s heart. He prayed ’twould be worth the journey.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mile upon mile of Scotland’s endless landscape passed afore Lynet’s eyes, like the never ending grains of sand that counted time in an hour glass. She had been bounced and jostled in the saddle for hours ’til she could no longer even remember what day it was. Each step of the horse beneath her took her farther and farther away from Berwyck and her family. ’Twas the only place she had ever called home.

  She supposed her marriage would have been inevitable come the end of the games, and as such, she would have, in truth, traveled to wherever her new husband’s place of birth was located. That she moved at such a hasty speed because it may cost the lives of those she journeyed with, complicated that which troubled her most deeply.

  She had put the rift in place between her and Ian. She could not blame anyone other than her own self for the silence that cracked like thunder between them. She had been furious with him for not attempting to return for Rolf, and for his claim of ownership over her. But as the day’s swiftly passed by whilst they continued to outrun their pursuers, her voice of reason began to at last take precedence over her accusations of him. He certainly was not a coward and had made the right decisions in order to save her life. She just had a hard time forming the words I am sorry whenever she saw the stubborn expression in his eyes. Apparently, he had no plans to yield first and apologize, any more than she did.

  Ian had been polite, if not downright unreachable, ever since. Lynet had tried to keep herself distant from him but that surely was near to impossible, given they were sharing a horse together. Every bump against him was a constant reminder this was her Ian, the man she had been in love with for almost her entire life. Her resolve to stay furious at him may be trying to rule her head, but her heart was a constant betrayal of her own feelings as it flipped end over end with his closeness.

  Lynet had never been this far from Berwyck, and she watched as the scenery and terrain changed from rolling open moors to green mountains and valleys. She was taken aback when they at last came upon a large lake. Ian had whispered softly in her ear as they rode ’twas called Loch Ness, not that she had ever heard of such a place. The water stretched out for nigh unto fifty miles, or so he guessed. He appeared to be familiar with the territory, as he showed an unexpected eagerness whilst he began speaking of the place that had once been his home.

  The sun had been lowering in the distant horizon as they traversed the shoreline when she finally espied it. Against a backdrop of a resplendent pink and orange sky from the setting sun, there stood a keep, rising majestically from the shore of the lake…Urquhart Castle. She sat up straighter in the saddle, as if this additional bit of height would give her a clearer view of the place she would now call home.

  Lynet chanced a glimpse at her husband and noticed how he had been watching her most intently. A smile formed on her lips, and he returned her gesture with one of his own, as he was obviously pleased by her reaction upon seeing the castle for the first time. He halted his horse, and they sat in silence for a few moments, taking in the sight of the estate. She saw the keep was reflected in the water, adding a hint of mystery for what was to follow as her life now moved forward.

  She reached up, trying to tame her unruly locks into some semblance of order. “I must look a fright,” she said hastily, feeling vain for the first time in her life. “What will our people think of a mistress who looks as if she has been dragged through the muck of life?”

  Ian took his gaze from the castle in the distance to peruse her more intently. Reaching out, he took a lock of her hair and began rubbing the length between his fingers afore tucking it behind her ear. “I am glad to hear you make the reference of saying our people. ’Tis most pleasing to my ears, Lynet,” he answered.

  With a cluck of his tongue, the horse began to clip clop its way over the rocky riverbed. Towering trees lined the lake across from the keep, but those that may have been found surrounding the castle had been cut down to ensure anyone approaching the area would be easily seen.

  The keep was not as large as Berwyck, by any means, for Lynet could tell that right away with just one look. ’Twas still of adequate size, reaching perchance five floors high. The battlement walls were not as tall as those at Berwyck, either, but she could still see them weaving steadily around the keep. The rooftops of several buildings peeked out beyond the walls encompassing the estate. The sound of steady hammering told her they had a blacksmith, and surely, a stable would be found close by.

  Lynet was surprised to see the fields lay barren. She would have thought they would be filled with sprouting stalks of wheat rising in a golden display of color at this time of year. She took note of only two cows chewing their cud nearby and wondered where the rest of the herd and other livestock could be found. She began to quickly ponder just what the circumstances were surrounding Ian’s return and of him taking over as laird and chief of the clan. They never had taken the time to talk of such details, since their conversations had been limited to sparring with one another and his need to wed.

  Why had there been such an urgency and need for him to marry? S
urely, a fair amount of time would be needed for Ian to become adjusted to returning to his family after being gone so long. She could only guess on the number of years it had been since Ian departed from beneath the shadows of his birthplace. She knew he had been a younger son and had ended up at Berwyck to pledge his fealty to her father, but other than that, she knew nothing of his family, nor what to expect as he returned with a bride not of their choosing. He never talked of his past, preferring for it to remain unspoken.

  As they approached, she heard a shout overhead, and Lynet saw the point of an arrow protrude from one of the narrow slits used for protecting the inhabitants of the keep. Angus and Connor moved their mounts forward, raising their hands ’til they were recognized, and the drawbridge was lowered so they could proceed over the dry moat into the interior of what she would consider the baily.

  As Lynet looked around, she observed the normal activity of castle life going on all around her. Chores were busily being attended to, people hurried to and fro, and they did not have long to wait afore three young lads came running from the stables to take hold of the halters of their steeds. Ian jumped down from the saddle and once again held out his arms to assist her.

  Her hands actually shook as she placed them upon his broad shoulders, and she felt his own reach up and grab hold of her waist to help her down. They stood thusly whilst she tried to calm her nerves that suddenly felt as if they were colliding together with all the emotions of her fate of late.

  “’Tis alright now, little one, you are safe,” Ian murmured, as though he, in truth, read her very thoughts. Staring up into those alluring hazel eyes, she felt much of her anger melt away and tried not to sigh in pleasure when he gently cupped her face and rubbed his thumb softly across her cheek.

  “I do not know why I feel so frightened all of a sudden, Ian. What will your family think of me and our hasty marriage? I just know they will hate me.” Her voice portrayed her uneasiness at her precarious situation, so she took a deep gulp of air, trying her best to remember to breathe.

  Ian muttered something beneath his breath that she could not make out. “To be honest, I do not give a damn what they think,” he at last declared.

  “But what kind of a reception do you feel we shall receive?” she asked hesitantly as she heard the door to the keep squeaking open. In unison, they both turned their attention towards the sound. An older woman came to an abrupt pause at the top of the stairs once she saw them and waited there with hands folded in front of her. She looked displeased, as her brows furrowed, and, from where Lynet was standing, ’twas not a good sign.

  Ian took her fingers and brushed his lips across them. His eyes sparkled whilst he gave her a timid smile. “We are about to find out,” he whispered, afore raising his free hand in acknowledgment to the woman, who scowled and began tapping her foot in impatience ’til Ian called out to her. “Hello, mother.”

  ~***~

  Lynet’s hand trembled beneath his fingers. He gave them a slight squeeze of reassurance. “All will be well, my lady,” he told her as she acknowledged him with a slight nod of her head. “Wait here.”

  His stride was confident as he went towards the keep, even as the briefest of visions passed quickly afore his eyes of a lad being tossed down the very same steps he was fast approaching. Viewing the mother who had given him his very breath, he saw she did not appear as if life of late had been treating her well. Given his view of the fields as he had approached the manor, he was not all together surprised to see them fallow, nor the absence of serfs cultivating the soil.

  Her disapproval of him was etched upon her face in the fiercest of frowns. Ian mentally wondered where his mother, who had begged him silently with kind eyes to apologize to his brother so long ago, had disappeared to. Surely, the woman he remembered still lingered somewhere beneath the surface of what she now showed him.

  He fell to his knees once he stood afore her and bowed his head. Silence was met with the shuffling of feet as he could feel the stares of those who came out of the shadows to witness his return. Yet, still he waited for his mother to acknowledge his right as the next in line to claim the lairdship of the MacGillivray clan.

  He was about to give up and stand when he felt it. Her hands came to rest upon his head. “I give you my blessing, my son,” she said loudly for all to hear. “Rise, and greet those who will now serve you.”

  Ian stood and walked up the remaining steps to stand next to his mother. Taking both her hands, he leaned forward to kiss her cheeks. Turning back to the crowd who gathered afore him, he was startled to see the condition of his people. Their ragged appearance confirmed the situation was indeed dire and far more troubling than he thought ’twould be. He could only pray there was something left in the estate coffers. Though, he would not be surprised to learn his brother had spent what precious little coin he had on drink and women.

  The clan began to press forward with the declaration of my laird voiced by each person who came and knelt afore him to pay him homage. The creaking of the keep door again sounded, and a woman with dark brown hair came to stand beside his mother, who suddenly began to smile. Inwardly, Ian groaned, knowing what was about to occur.

  He reached out his arm to beckon Lynet to come forward. Her eye’s widened ’til she gave a slight shake of her head, denying his silent request. His eyes narrowed as he all but called to her. Ian knew she understood his meaning, and yet, still she refused to stand with him as his wife.

  “Excuse me,” he muttered.

  “Ian!” his mother called out. ’Twas obvious he was about to incur her wrath one way or the other, so he might as well get it over with. He cared not that his mother was angry he left her side. Instead, he continued forward, passing those who still waited to pay their respect whilst they opened up a pathway straight to his wife.

  He held out his hand to his lady. The moment he looked into her eyes, he knew she was scared to death. “Come, Lynet. Take my hand. Your place is beside your husband.”

  “Ian…I am n-not presentable,” she stammered hastily. “I canna stand afore our people looking like this.”

  “I am not much better, if you but care to look,” he said, trying his best to put her at ease by lightening the mood between them.

  Her eyes raked over him, and she betrayed the slightest amount of interest when she did so. A slight smile broke out afore she remembered herself and covered it again with a show of disinterest. But he had seen her response and knew her feelings for him were still there, no matter that she tried to hide them from him.

  Ian took her chin and raised her face. “Your place is next to me, Lynet. Now, come…introductions must needs be made so everyone will know their place in our household.”

  “Our?”

  Her voice sounded surprised, and he could not resist the grin that escaped his lips. “But of course, my sweet. I would not have it any other way.”

  Her smile was answer enough he had pleased her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  This time, Lynet did not even attempt to conceal her smile of delight his words had given her. Still hesitant to be brought afore his mother, looking as she did, any further protest she may have given ended the minute Ian leaned down and placed an affectionate kiss upon her cheek. A gasp echoed through the crowd at his gesture. Lynet was unsure exactly who had been the person who was not happy with such a public display of affection. She only hoped ’twas not his mother.

  Numb to almost everything around her, Lynet merely followed as Ian took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm to lead her through the crowd. Voices rose in intensity as whispers from those gathered wondering who she was rushed like the wind through the treetops. A quick peek through her lashes confirmed Lynet’s gravest trepidations. The woman standing still as stone at the top of the stairway was unmistakably annoyed with what was transpiring around her, evidenced by the fact her face was turning an unsightly shade of red.

  With a deep calming breath, she climbed the stairs, feeling as though she
was attempting to scale the tallest of mountains. She fell into a deep curtsey and waited, much as Ian had done, for his mother’s acknowledgment. ’Twas not to come.

  Ian took her elbow to help her rise, but ’twas the look on his face that told Lynet of the true emotions running amuck inside her husband’s mind.

  “You do my lady a disservice by ignoring her, madam. This is my wife, Lady Lynet of Berwyck. As such, she deserves your respect as mistress of this clan, if nothing else,” Ian said through clenched teeth. His flat tone was low for his mother’s ears alone, although ’twas clear the woman standing behind his dame heard his words.

  “But, Lady Fiona, how could this be? What of…” Ian’s mother paid her no mind, interrupting the perplexed woman with her own query of her son.

  “You have wed with an Englishwoman? You must be mad!” his mother snarled.

  Ian brought Lynet closer to his side. “She is of Clan MacLaren. Surely, you have heard of her people.”

  “Harrumph…lowlanders,” Fiona sneered, looking down her nose at Lynet. “I heard tell her father married an Englishwoman in order to take over her estate. Rumor has it he would have pledged his loyalty to that English pig of a king if he had not fallen instead.”

  “You should not slander His Majesty’s good name, mother, for even I had sworn fealty to King Henry, no matter that I now serve Scotland.”

  “Berwyck…’tis quite large, is it not?”

  Lynet tried her best not to let her temper flare, even though she swore she could all but hear the chinking of coins being counted in his mother’s head. “Why does the size of Berwyck matter, my lady?” Lynet asked, raising her chin and feeling no need to let on she had a considerable dowry. “I am but a younger sister in that household.”

  Fiona rolled her eyes in obvious disgust. “By the blessed Saints, Ian,” she all but cursed him, “could you not, at the very least, even wed with the eldest daughter?”