by John Ryan
“I would be remiss in my duties as your future mother-in-law if I did not address your concerns, m’dear,” she began as she gazed into the flames crackling nosily in the hearth.
“I well ken of my son’s repute with the ladies of the realm,” she acknowledged with a tinge of regret. “Verily, in the past, Thayer has been prone to charm a great many of them. But I assure ye, m’dear, he has a heart as true as any I have ever known. I can say, with certainty, that at no time did he ever promise himself to any of the young ladies he squired. He has always behaved most honorably in these matters.”
“I appreciate your concern, Lady Katherine, but why are ye telling me this?” Elspeth leaned closer to her guest.
“There was but one beautiful young lass that made a lasting impression on my son in his youth and, until today, I had no idea who it was,” she confided.
“And now?” Elspeth murmured, nigh breathless with anticipation.
“‘Tis surely ye, m’dear,” Lady Katherine confirmed, placing an elegant hand upon Elspeth’s forearm and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“But how do ye ken ‘tis I?” Elspeth posed, her eyes misting.
“I found this among his things just today,” Lady Katherine replied as she plucked a worn parchment from a leather pouch and handed it to Elspeth.
Unfolding the tattered and stained parchment with care, Elspeth scanned the faded ink.
‘Twas a vision through the mist, chaste and fair
Thoust’ stole my breath. Verily, was she there?
Beauty, aye-but more which stirs m’ heart
Though I know her not-I shan’t desire to part
Dare I draw near-would she repel or fear?
Do I presume to bare forth my esteem?
For I’ve ne’er known an ardor so dear
Dare I believe this dream?
My Dearest Elspeth
“But how can this be?” Elspeth asked as tiny rivulets streamed down her reddened cheeks. Drawing her tongue over her lips, she winced at the taste of the salty tears. “I was unaware that Thayer retained any more than disdain for me after our first meeting. Never did I presume he regarded me so favorably.”
“Elspeth, m’dear. Thayer has always held ye in the highest regard. Though for many years, he was remiss in confiding your identity to me, I assure ye ‘twas ye who stole his heart. From the very day he met ye, he has compared all other women to ye. Since that very day, he has professed that the others have never measured up. After meeting ye, I can see why he was so taken with ye. Know this, Elspeth; ye have won Thayer’s heart. There is naught he would not do for ye. He is as loyal a man as I could hope to call me son.”
Elspeth sat in stunned silence. An overwhelming sense of guilt washed through her as she reflected on the amorous thoughts Faolin had elicited. “Oh why does love have to be so complicated?”
Lady Katherine murmured, “Love is indeed complicated, m’dear.”
Lady Katherine’s response snatched the breath from Elspeth lungs. Hopelessly lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t even been cognizant of the fact that she had uttered those words aloud.
‘Twould surely behoove me to remain mum henceforth, she chided herself as she managed a feeble smile.
“Here, m’dear, please take this,” Lady Katherine bid as she offered Elspeth her handkerchief of fine silk.
With a grateful nod, Elspeth accepted her offer and dabbed at the tears dampening her heat-flushed cheeks. Neatly folding the parchment, she placed it gingerly in Lady Katherine’s hand and gave her a reassuring smile.
“Please do not get up, m’dear. I’ll see myself out,” Lady Katherine murmured as she rose from the chaise. “I’m very grateful we had this chance to talk.”
“As am I, Lady Katherine. Thank ye for your kindness and regard,” Elspeth said between sniffles as she watched the door close gently behind Lady Katherine.
***
After his unceremonious exit from Elspeth’s chambers, Thayer had bolted down the stairs, his heart surging in his chest, his mind racing.
Och! Why do I act like such a besotted, lovesick fool in Elspeth’s presence? I have me choice of a score of comely women! What indomitable hold does this bonny young lass have upon me? Why do I seek her high regard so eagerly?
Forcefully mustering an indignant air, Thayer professed, Forsooth she is of no import. Surely, once she has married Faolin, I will quickly forget her.
Thayer’s half-hearted attempt to push Elspeth to the far recesses of his mind was of no effect. In fact, the more he strived to ward off his ever increasing desire for her, the more unbearable the reality of its non-fruition became. Wavering at the bottom of the stairway, Thayer directed his gaze over his shoulder toward Elspeth’s chambers. With his eyes cast heavenward, he conceded, “Who am I trying to dupe? I cannot stay this deluge in my heart one moment longer! I want Elspeth for my own. I desire her with all of my body and soul. I long to envelop her in my arms. I want naught else than to protect her and love her. I want to grow old by her side. I want to raise a family with her. Indeed, I want to spend eternity with her. Forsooth, by the grace o’ God almighty, I will win Elspeth’s heart; if I must die in my assay!”
With purpose in his stride, Thayer set out to find Faolin. There was something of upmost importance to discuss; it was time to convince him to trade places one final time.
***
Redirecting her gaze upon the door through which Thayer had so brusquely taken his leave, Elspeth felt her ire return with a vengeance. Unable to stem the rage-fueled musings roiling about her mind, she began to gently stroke Asilin’s soft coat as he lay peacefully asleep on her lap.
It was of no service. Vivid recollections of their row came charging back. Gritting her teeth, Elspeth watched helplessly as visions of her future brother-in-law--his eyes of azure flashing in righteous indignation - -bantered about her mind. Despite her consternation, Elspeth sensed a searing sensation creep into her heart. Rather than anger, it was a twinge of longing, an unrelenting ache for him. And, as much as she despised herself for admitting it, she now rued the fact that he had left.
Why do I continue to regard Faolin so favorably without heed to how he has behaved? Is it not Thayer who has so elegantly professed his love for me upon that parchment? Surely, Faolin’s randy conduct should only serve to solidify my acceptance of his more genteel and honorable brother as my future husband.
“Then why do I feel no ministration or atonement?” she posed aloud to Asilin. “What possible sway can this loutish rouge hold on me? And why do I so readily discount Thayer’s good opinion of me? Oh, Asilin, what am I to do?”
***
Frantically scouring the grounds of the castle for his brother, Thayer at last came upon Faolin alone in a secluded nook of the courtyard. He had spent the better part of the afternoon further honing his already superior archery skills. Having plucked an arrow from his quiver and slid it into position on his bow, Faolin beamed a fetching smile when he spied Thayer’s approach.
“Greetings, Thayer! Care to join me for a round of archery?”
“Nae, I retain no such desire to have ye show me up again, Faolin,” Thayer replied with a good natured smile.
Sliding him a wary glance, Thayer offered, “However, I was wondering if I may have a word with ye regarding another subject of consequence.”
“Of course,” Faolin replied, returning his regard to the target. “Please speak. What’s on your mind?”
“If it’s all the same with ye, Faolin, I prefer to wait until ye have released your arrow. I wouldn’t want to have any accidents,” Thayer retorted wryly.
Elevating a cynical brow, Faolin quipped, “If ye mean to speak to me about Lady Elspeth, I fear me words for ye will be more pointed than any of my darts, brother.”
“Then, by all means, Faolin, aim them with impunity,” Thayer replied dryly.
“If the matter of which ye wish to speak regards our Lady Faire, then I fear ye will be disappointed with my sentiment on the subj
ect,” Faolin averred brusquely.
“Faolin, its just tha’--”
“Stop right there!” Faolin interrupted brusquely. “I already have an idea what ye are going to say.”
Drawing back on his arrow, Faolin drew a bead on the target while sliding a look of annoyance at Thayer.
“Unlike the knave who aims only for the most accessible target to assure his success, I prefer to aim higher,” Faolin added as he loosed an arrow in the direction of the straw buck across the courtyard. The arrow whizzed through the air and impaled itself through the center of the buck’s heart.
Holding his tongue, Thayer crossed his mighty arms across his broad chest and flicked an annoyed glance at his brother
“Verily, ye cannot be serious, Thayer!” Faolin erupted, lowering his bow and returning his quiver to the small wooden stool aside the heavily-pocked target.
“I have never been more serious in my life,” Thayer replied, the intensity in his eyes affirming his sincerity.
“Ye have had too many women to mention and still ye wish to possess the one lass ye have cajoled me to wed” Faolin protested bitterly. His eyes of blue smote his brother’s with an intensity Thayer had never before beheld.
“I’m sorry, little brother, I’m truly sorry,” Thayer professed, his hands held palms up to indicate his earnestness. “But Elspeth is unlike any other. She is the ripest fruit that hangs farthest up the tallest tree. For such a delectable fruit, I would build a ladder to attain her.”
Under Faolin’s intense glower, Thayer began to pace restlessly along the hard earth. Knotting his hands tightly behind his back, his heavy footfalls stirred up a cloud of dust as they began to wear a path along the ground.
His heart ached as he spied the look of betrayal in Faolin’s eyes. Yet, as much as he loathed the effect his decision had on his brother, Thayer could not deny his heart. He pined desperately for Elspeth’s love and would not stop until he achieved it.
“Never in a hundred lifetimes did I think ‘twould come to this,” Thayer finally confessed, dispersing the restive silence. “I had no intention of losing me heart to Elspeth. I swear this on Father’s grave.”
“I, too, am rueful, Thayer,” Faolin replied as he bent down to lace his buck-skin boot. “As ye, I have warmed to Elspeth--and her to me. And I have no intention of abandoning me duty to this match. ‘Tis my obligation to both Father and Elspeth. Did ye not forget, I am no longer beholden to ye, big brother?”
“Ye never were, Faolin,” Thayer professed in earnest. “I would never have pressed ye to marry Elspeth if ye but gave me your assurances that ye were deeply opposed to the match.”
“Ye expect me to believe that?” Faolin posed, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Surely, ye must hold that I was born ten years after ye--not ten minutes!”
“Then I regret to say we are indeed at an impasse, dear brother,” Thayer said as he crossed his arms tightly across his brawny chest.
“Aye, and what do ye suppose we do about it?” Faolin replied, peeling off his tunic and flashing a devilish grin.
They both already knew the answer.
As children, the brothers often settled things in the time honored Scottish way—with their fists rather than with words.
Today would be no different.
“I had hoped I would have been able to reason with ye, little brother,” Thayer declared with a sardonic grin as he tossed his tunic to the side. He began stretching his muscles as his chest, glistening with perspiration.
Faolin gave a silvery laugh. “Reason? I didn’t think that ye ken the meaning of the word, Thayer. Never mind, I’m about to teach ye.”
“Ye can surely try, little brother,” Thayer countered, his face twisting into a wry sneer. “Ye can surely try.”
Faolin shrugged. “Ye have a short memory, brother,” he chortled. “‘Twas nigh two years ago that I fattened your lip when ye assayed to kiss that young lass I had my eye upon at Finnegan’s wedding.”
“Just because ye laid your eyes on her afore I dinna mean that ye had rights to her,” Thayer quipped in a throaty chuckle. He warily eyed Faolin, who had begun to circle him with hands knotted into two immense fists of iron.
The ebbing sun cast lengthy shadows from the two colossal gladiators vying for the hand of the lovely maiden. Though this was not to be a fight to the death, the stakes were nearly as high. One brother would surely suffer a grievous wound to his heart.
The two brothers halted, faced each other and bowed. With a nod, they renewed their mutual stalking as smoke from the ebbing fire swirled about them. Though the flames had died, they were impervious to the cool air. The fire which lingered between the two brothers could have heated a thousand campsites.
Over and over, each feigned an attack, only to withdraw.
Thayer’s first punch sailed harmlessly over Faolin’s head. Deftly sidestepping, Faolin countered with a jab of his own. He, too, missed wildly and Thayer let loose a wicked laugh as the wayward blow whizzed past his head, feathering the hair across his brow.
For every punch Faolin threw, Thayer managed to answer with an evasive move to parry him. Normally a superb pugilist, Thayer sensed Faolin was off his game. Was he addled by the nature of his quest? Thayer was sure he was the most focused, intent on winning Elspeth for himself. Nevertheless, Faolin continued to hunt him unmercifully, furiously wind-milling his fists in a desperate attempt to connect with Thayer’s chin.
His persistence finally paid off.
Slow in regaining his feet after ducking yet another hammer thrown by his brother, Faolin’s fist finally met Thayer’s nose with a crunch, peppering his cheek with droplets of blood. Thayer tumbled backward only to spring up like a wild cat, his heart pumping with feral excitement. Now on the offensive, Thayer lunged at Faolin and connected solidly with his jaw. Faolin flew backward, tumbling to the ground, arms and legs akimbo. Perhaps ready to concede defeat, he lay motionless while trying to catch his breath.
Thayer, though relieved to emerge from the scuffle on his feet, perceived no real sense of victory. Regarding Faolin’s still form with a pang of regret, he offered his hand. With a grunt, Faolin snatched Thayer’s hand and jerked him to the ground where he landed beside him with a sickening thud.
The wind knocked from his lungs, Thayer lay flat on his back, his gaze fixed skyward. With a grunt, Faolin turned his face toward his brother. Now thoroughly exhausted, both men lay motionless, too spent to continue their fight.
Gradually regaining his breath, Thayer cringed as he dabbed at the blood peppering his face. Meanwhile, Faolin ascended into a sitting position, wincing as he rubbed his red and swollen cheek.
“Mayhap, there is yet another way we can settle this,” Faolin suggested with a wry grin.
“Oh? And how might that be?” Thayer asked as he slowly propped himself up. He watched as Faolin rose with a grunt and stood over him.
Taking Faolin’s offered hand with a nod of acceptance, Thayer was yanked to his feet. They both took to dusting off their torn and tattered kilts and dirt-caked boots.
After dabbing the blood which still oozed from the wound under his jaw, Faolin retrieved the wineskin from his rumpled tunic. He dribbled a few drops on his fingers to rub on his jaw before taking a long pull upon it. A lopsided grin crept across his handsome and swollen visage, and he offered it to Thayer. Accepting it with a nod, Thayer drained the remainder of the wine and shrugged on his tunic.
“So, what is it ye propose we do to settle this situation, Faolin?” Thayer asked.
“Ye claim ye cannot live without Elspeth. You say that your intentions are truly honorable, aye?” Faolin inquired as a wry grin twisted his lips.
“Aye, that’s right,” Thayer affirmed cautiously as he contemplated the queer look upon his brother’s face.
“Then prove it.”
“And just how do ye propose that I do that, little brother?” Thayer said, raising an incredulous brow and crossing his arms across his chest.
“Pre
cisely what would ye be willing to sacrifice if I were to agree to step aside?” Faolin asked, flashing a roguish grin.
“What?” Thayer muttered. As puzzled as he was curious, his voice held an air of amusement.
“Ye heard me, what would ye be willing to relinquish should I forfeit my claim on Elspeth?” Faolin reiterated.
“Anything,” Thayer replied stiltedly.
“Would ye be willing to give me your beloved stallion, Ethelion?”
“He is in the third stall to the right in the Mourney stables.”
“And your estate in Edinburgh?” Faolin continued.
“When ye take possession of Castlerock, don’t forget to discharge the head groom. As we departed for Dirleton, I espied him deliver a swift kick to one of my mares. I meant to show him the error of his ways upon my return,” Thayer replied slyly, color rushing to his cheeks as he relived the appalling image.
“As Elspeth’s husband, ye would regain the right to the Fiefdom of Leith. Would ye be willing to relinquish any and all such claims to me?” Faolin asked warily.
“May your reign be blessed.”.
Faolin mouth remained agape. “Ye really are serious about her, aren’t ye?” Faolin asked.
“I have never been more serious about anything in my entire life, little brother.”.
“Well, if that be your true feelings, Thayer, then I shall accept the fiefdom as my recompense,” Faolin said. “But ye will retain your stallion and your estate. Ye may need them should Lady Elspeth decide to accept your suit.”
“She’ll accept me, God willing,” Thayer replied, firmly shaking his brother’s hand and patting him soundly on the shoulder. “She’ll accept me if I have to spend the rest of my life winning her heart.”
Chapter Eight
With wings on his feet, Thayer scoured the grounds of Dirleton castle looking for Elspeth. His heart racing wildly in his chest, he longed for the chance to finally profess his love to her.