A Knight and White Satin

by Jackie Ivie

  Payton nodded. “Aye.”

  “Good. You may na’ understand the true value of what you and that lass have. The only ones who do…are those who have missed out on it.”

  “What?”

  “She loves you. Vastly. As much as you love her.”

  Payton straightened, stuck his chest out and curled his hands into fists. “I doona’ love her,” he said.

  Redmond hooted, which was so rare that Payton stared.

  “Lie to the others. But na’ to yourself. I already told you. ’Tis apparent to all those who go about this loveless existence, thinking they ken what is real and what is na’. Trust me. You love her. And it is as vast as her love for you. You doona’ have to admit it, but that does na’ make it change. That is why I stake my life on it, and still do. The lass is yours. The bairn is, also. And you are the most lucky man alive, I think.”

  Payton blew his nose into the napkin. And then looked back at his man.

  “I should find the laver and wash my face in it,” he said, finally. “I saw one in the upper hall. I’ll return. A-fore the ladies join us.”

  “That would be a fair assumption,” Redmond replied. “And, My Laird? I would na’ wish this time mentioned.”

  Payton looked at him with horror. “You think I would?” he replied.

  “Good. We are agreed.”

  The man nodded, turned on his heel and went back to the great hall. Payton turned toward a staircase and was running them, strength and vigor pounding through his veins with every step.

  Chapter 19

  Dallis followed the music strummed with an unsteady hand and accompanied by a voice that clearly had musical talent, if there weren’t so many hiccups taking place throughout the words. Lady Dunrobin had gone down earlier, claiming an ache in her head wrought from trying to see detail for as long as she had. Lady Evelyn had accompanied her. Dallis had no need of sustenance after the enormous feast they’d brought to the solar, not once but twice more, as four ladies clever with their needles had worked and trimmed and altered a gown to not only fit her, but to present her.

  Present her, it did. Dallis had never worn anything as becoming. It made last eve’s effort at Ballilol Castle look crude, lewd, and poor. The ladies had spared no words on how disgusting they found her gray underdress. Lady Dunrobin had gone on at length how she’d seen better clothing worn by the poverty-stricken beggars at her back gate, waiting for the old trenchers to be distributed as their lone meal.

  Dallis had blushed uneasily at that, and silently thanked the fates that they wouldn’t ever see the overdress, with the indecent opening. Her attire now was nothing less than ladylike. Elegant. Demure. Graceful. Refined. All of which made her feel that way.

  The rustle of satin accompanied every step, reminding her of the underdress’s material, although that wasn’t the first layer she’d donned. The chemise they’d given her was of the finest lawn imaginable, sheer to the point of transparency, yet still able to hold minuscule stitches adorning it with thistles, and puckering the bodice for support. Her underdress of white had the same pattern of stitches, made in the same shade of white, only seen when they caught the light from the sleeves that had been tied on.

  And her bliant was another work of art. Embroidered throughout the bodice and trailing to the hem in several winding places with more stems of thistles, sewn with silver thread, on a background so blue it was akin to gazing into a loch on a clear sunny day. Lady Dunrobin had told them all it was silk from the Orient, and added that her husband traded for all her fabrics and threads and notions, just to assure his wife’s happiness.

  And everyone had smiled, and sighed.

  Dallis’s hair was left loose tonight, but the scented oils they’d rinsed through it during her bath had guaranteed a shine and texture to it that beckoned a touch. Lady Dunrobin had brought out ropes of little tiny colored stones, that twinkled when they caught the light, and someone had the idea of lacing them throughout Dallis’s tresses. And so they were. Catching the light whenever the sheer white of her headdress veil allowed it.

  She had a silver girdle at her hips, fastened low and left that way, since she had such a small waist it would have necessitated removing links to fit it properly, aside from which no one wanted to harm the bairn. She’d declined wearing any further jewels that belonged to her hostess. It hadn’t stopped the woman. She’d given orders for more gowns and underthings created, adorned throughout with stones and gilded threads. Then she’d dispatched the seamstresses to work on their assignments. Throughout the night, if need be.

  There was a clansman standing at the entrance to the great hall. Dallis smiled shyly up at him. It appeared to be Seth-the-Silent. He lifted a hand to show his mission in escorting her. Dallis ducked her head and accepted it, lying her hand atop his outstretched one.

  Then they entered the great hall.

  There was dining happening still, as the tables clearly showed, and drinking. More than one man appeared to be without ability to stand, and so was reclining on benches or the floor. The minstrel was still singing and playing, and keeping a good enough melody that there was dancing about him. Then she saw Payton, rising from behind the table, and Dallis didn’t see anything beyond that.

  He didn’t bother with stairs. He turned and disappeared from view as he must have jumped down to the common floor and she lost sight of him before he reappeared on the right end, moving through people, some of whom reached out toward him, intent on waylaying him. He didn’t even break stride. Everyone else might as well be invisible. All his followers. Everyone.

  When he was within a body-length in front of her, he stopped, pulling in great breaths that expanded his chest and made the doublet he wore strain at the fastening before he exhaled it.

  “Dallis…I….” He licked at his lips, and his eyes actually looked away from her, before returning.

  “My Laird Dunn-Fadden.” She curtsied, watching the gown billow beside her as the material shuffled through the dried rushes on their floor, before lifting her eyes again to him.

  “I…” His voice stopped again, and he cleared his throat. Then, he looked away from her again.

  Dallis moved the four steps to him, pulling Seth with her.

  “Payton?” she whispered.

  His eyes met hers for a moment, moved away as if burnt, and returned to lock glances with her for long, heart-pounding moments, and then he moved his gaze over her head. Pulled in some more large breaths. And if Redmond hadn’t come from around him, Dallis didn’t know what else she was supposed to do.

  “Allow me to see the both of you back to the dais. Seth, bring the wife. Payton. Follow me. We’ll be trampled if you stay here longer.”

  It looked to be true, since the crowd about them had increased tenfold in the moments of their greeting, but Redmond and Seth had them to the dais without incident. And then, a page was sent to find the chair since Payton had toppled his from the dais when he’d stood, and someone had actually stolen it for a keepsake. All the time, Redmond was shaking his head and smiling.

  “Nae. Na’ that one. A short bench. For two. The champion canna’ sit in such a flimsy affair. And the wife refuses to sit elsewhere…doona’ you?” he asked her, and then winked.

  She nodded with a questioning look.

  “Exactly. Now, go,” Redmond waved at the page. “Fetch the bench. And Seth…as the lone Honor Guardsman that abstained from My Laird Dunrobin’s fine ale this eve, could you fetch a trencher? For two. Sweetmeats only. And grapes. And perhaps those little cakes. Go now!”

  A smaller bench was brought, possessing a short railing along the back that was useless for leaning, and placed behind the table. Dallis was seated with the assist of Redmond, and spent a moment arranging her skirts. Payton was still acting odd. He hadn’t moved or said anything.

  “Payton?” She asked him, looking up at him as she did so.

  He dropped, shaking the wooden support with the move, and making Dallis gasp.

  “Payton…?
What is it?”

  He turned his head toward her, caught her glance for a moment before moving it away, and then he reached for her hand and took it to his lips.

  “I’ve na’ seen you in correct dress a-fore,” he told her fingers.

  “You…approve?” She couldn’t keep the uncertainty from her voice.

  He moved his gaze from her fingers to her eyes, and the moment he did so, everything about her silenced. Or perhaps it was the complete stoppage of her heart making it so, before it decided to keep beating. Or maybe it was the way his eyes intensified, until they lumined the glow of candles back at her.

  “There are nae words for how beauteous you are, Wife. None that my tongue can find without stumble. I will have to settle for ‘aye’. I approve.” And then he moved a kiss to the tops of her fingers, and made everything in the room start up again.

  “I doona’ recollect why, but Seth is here, annoying me. With a trencher for you. My Laird? Lady?”

  Redmond placed a hard bread plate onto the table before them, and then he retreated again. Beyond a quick glance Dallis didn’t even look at it before returning her attention to the man at her side. Payton didn’t even glance at it.

  “I have something for you,” he told her.

  “You do?”

  “Aye. But I should have given it earlier.” He looked up and out at the swell of humanity all about them, and grimaced. “’Tis too crowded here. I’ll wait.”

  “Payton!” She said the name with an exclamation of frustration.

  He responded with a smile, and a movement of his fingers across her knuckles on the hand he still hadn’t relinquished.

  “Aye?”

  Dallis couldn’t hold his gaze! It was sending trills throughout her upper body to center at her breast tips, making the chemise seem bulky and heavy against her skin. It was also sending shooting darts through her spine and into her scalp, and making everything an itch of irritation, a prick of sensation behind her eyelids, and an urge to burst into song. She moved away before something on her reacted, and caught Redmond’s eye again.

  His eyebrows lifted.

  “Seth? Perhaps the wife would find wine a bit more pleasing to her palate. Laird Dunrobin does have a fine winter garden, and grapes. Everywhere on one wall are vines. And the wines he has created?” He kissed his fingers. “Truly magnificent.”

  Dallis didn’t look to see if Seth had gone on the errand or not. Her thoughts weren’t focusing, and her entire being seemed to be pulled by the man sitting right beside her. He shifted, moved a kilt-wrapped thigh closer to her, making the bench sway slightly, and sending heat from where he touched. Dallis dropped her eyes, lit on his lap where the kilt should have been draping between his legs, but instead it looked uncomfortable enough he had to shove his sporran to the side with his free hand. And that just gave her a reminder of how virile and masculine he was.

  Everything rocked inside her, and yet nothing moved.

  “Wine? Of course, they’d appreciate two goblets of it. Honestly, Seth. One would think you’d never served the laird and his wife a-fore.”

  There was a hissing noise to the other side of Redmond when he’d finished, and then two goblets of the proffered liquid were set in front of them, just past the ignored trencher.

  Dallis shifted to look at the liquid, darkening the sparkled facets of the drinking vessel whenever the candlelight flickers caught it, and then moved her gaze back to Payton. It wasn’t by choice. But she felt the pull of it, and could no longer resist.

  “You hunger?” he asked, in such a soft tone, she had to tip toward him to hear it.

  She shook her head.

  “Thirst?” he asked.

  She shook her head again.

  “Well, I do. And ’tis na’ for food and wine.” And then before her eyes, he blushed.

  Dallis didn’t dare blink for fear anything changed, as two spots of color touched the tops of his cheeks and then faded. He’d turned his head aside, as if to hide it, but wasn’t successful. She couldn’t prevent the swell of joy within her anymore than she could prevent the smile that broached the tip of the emotion. He was acting like a man in love! And the moment she thought it, she couldn’t contain it. It was her turn to blush and turn aside.

  “Well…what can I tempt them with next? We can try a bit of the blood pudding. Go, Seth. Fetch a bowl, and mind it’s the right temperature.” Redmond’s voice came as a disembodied sound, buzzing over the top of the other noises: the minstrel’s drunken singing and playing, the laughter and talk of a large swell of people in a warm enclosed space, the sound of snoring, and dogs whining and barking as they waited the bones and hand-outs from the tables above.

  And over all that she could swear she could hear every single one of Payton Dunn-Fadden’s breaths from beside her. Dallis tipped her head toward him again, and wasn’t surprised to see the steady regard he’d decided to bestow upon her, although her entire form lurched with the reaction of getting it.

  He smiled slightly, putting a crease to one side of his mouth, and then he nodded.

  “Blood pudding? Finally? I truly doubt they’ll find that tempting, Seth. Especially now.”

  Dallis glanced at the table in front of them, where a large bowl of black-looking jellied confection was just getting set, and wobbling slightly with the motion of it. Then, she returned to Payton.

  “Would you be caring to dance?” he asked, cocking a head slightly toward the floor.

  “I—”

  “Dance? Nae. I canna’ allow it.” It was Redmond replying.

  Dallis watched the confusion take over Payton’s features, and then he turned to where Redmond was standing, adjusting the grapes and other items on the trencher platter as if to make them more appetizing.

  “Redmond?” Payton asked.

  The man stopped and lifted both hands. “And Seth. Who do you think is orchestrating this courtship of yours?”

  “Court…ship?” Payton stumbled over the word and Dallis ducked her head.

  “Just because you pass over something, does na’ mean it has no worth. I said courtship and I meant courtship. And while dancing would be a perfect accompaniment to your endeavor, I really must balk at this point.”

  “I dinna’ ask it of you.”

  Payton grumbled it, Dallis giggled, and there was more hissing sound as Seth appeared to also have something to say.

  Redmond’s face went even more expressionless. “Have pity, My Laird. Your men have mostly over-imbibed and are useless. Save for Seth and me, you have none to guard you. And your lady. Should you take the dance floor, we’ll have a riot, and nae way to stop it.”

  “Oh.” Payton said it, but it could have been Dallis as easily. “But what if I long to dance?”

  “I can attempt a serenade in your chamber. I’ve na’ much talent but I can strum a decent enough tune for you.”

  Payton wasn’t amused. It sounded in his reply. “What if I want to dance here? I long to be seen with my wife, na’ constantly hide her away!”

  “You’re victim to your fame, Payton. As are we. Most of the time.”

  “Well, what do you suggest then, Redmond?”

  “You have done remarkably well for yourself. I will send Seth for a bit of mulled, spiced jellies. I haven’t decided how, but they have used honey to glaze bits of tallow, and then rolled them in spices. Verra tasty.”

  “I’m na’ interested,” Payton replied.

  “Then what are you interested in?” Redmond put his hands on his hips, and she could see Seth had the exact same pose behind him.

  “I just want to be alone.”

  “Payton Dunn-Fadden!” Redmond exclaimed, and behind him Seth was making grunting, chirping sounds.

  “With the wife! Jesu, Mary, and Joseph! You think me dense?”

  Payton announced it and stood at the same time. Since he’d never relinquished her hand, Dallis either had to let it rise with him, or stand at his side. She stood, and got clasped to him with an arm that trembled sl
ightly.

  “Well. There are moments—”

  “Move.”

  Payton interrupted him. He didn’t turn fully. He’d have to release his hold on her to do so. He chose instead to step sideways, meeting Redmond the moment he shifted.

  “’Twas na’ a question? Well, you need cast your words better if you wish them answered correctly. You wish a serenade, then?”

  “Can you na’ move? I wish to be in my chamber…with my wife. And I doona’ wish anyone else there! No one.” His head had lowered, as had his voice. It looked like a challenge. Those watching them must have had the same thought, for they were starting to get noticed. The floor in front of the dais thickened with Payton’s followers.

  Redmond backed. Seth didn’t at first. He was gesturing at all the items he’d procured for them that were still on the table.

  “Well, of course they’re leaving. They are na’ hungered. What fool would think that? Hmm? Perhaps you should think a-fore doing my bidding. You ever consider that? Doona’ raise your hands. We need see our laird and his lady to their chamber. Assist me with it. And cease that. I canna’ believe I am having an argument with a silent man!”

  “I can,” Payton replied.

  The chambers assigned to Payton were dark with the volume of rock, while only his banked fire lit the interior. It didn’t stay that way long, as another clansman she ignored rose from a chair and started poking at the fire.

  “Visitors?” Redmond asked.

  “A few,” the man replied. It sounded like Dugan.

  “There are three of us tonight. Three hour shifts. Outside.”

  “Forgive me,” Payton said. “I never considered what this fame of mine costs the rest of you.”

  “Why should you? As your Honor Guard, we serve. Loss of sleep is nae great issue.”

  “I still—”

  “Payton,” Redmond interrupted.

  “What?”

  “There are large bonuses attached to being your Honor Guard. Trust me. The lasses doona’ all crave you. Seth? Get us from this chamber a-fore I say anything more. And you have first watch. What? Doona’ argue with me again! Of course I’ll get you the foodstuffs. Why dinna’ you think of that when we were leaving. That would have been…”