“Wait a moment. Madeline and Vivienne were here, with the husbands you arranged for them to wed without their agreement.” A suspicious light dawned in Malcolm’s eyes. “And they departed when, precisely?”
“Yesterday,” Alexander admitted.
“And you were wed while they were resident?”
“As I said.”
Malcolm began to laugh. “That was a hasty courtship, brother mine,” he said, his eyes dancing. “When last we spoke, you had no intent to wed, nor were you courting any maiden’s affections.”
“I met the lady on the eve of Christmas…”
“The day before your nuptials! When Madeline and Vivienne were both present in this hall. I smell retaliation, Alexander!”
“…though that does not change the measure of my admiration for her.”
“Admit the truth,” Malcolm insisted, his manner gleeful. “Madeline and Vivienne avenged themselves upon you.”
Alexander nodded. “That is not to say that matters will not come aright in the end, as both of them have learned.”
Malcolm sipped his ale, his gaze knowing. “The match is amiable, then?”
“Of course.” Alexander had no desire to confess his misgivings to his brother, for any detail he admitted to one sibling would be immediately shared with all the others. He had protected them all from the truth of Kinfairlie’s finances for so long that it was instinctive to protect them from other harsh truths. “In fact, Eleanor is most anxious to conceive a son.”
“Truly?” Malcolm chewed his bread as he considered this detail. He studied Alexander as if he suspected that his brother told but half of the tale. “An amorous wife is not such a terrible fate. I salute you, Alexander, for it seems that all comes aright for you, even when our sisters scheme against you. That is a feat!”
“I do not know that all proceeds as well as that…”
“You are modest! Kinfairlie is secure in your hands and at peace, you have a hall full of loyal men, a stable full of fine steeds, two sisters married well, and your own wife desirous of an heir.” There was no bitterness in Malcolm’s tone, for his nature had never been tinged with avarice, but Alexander felt a desire to set matters straight.
He leaned an elbow on the table, lowering his voice in confidence. “I tell you one matter that does not go aright with ease,” he said, and Malcolm leaned closer. Alexander grimaced. “In truth, I forget much of courting a lady’s favor. Have you any counsel for me?”
Malcolm’s eyes widened. “Surely you jest.”
“Surely not.”
“You courted every maiden from here to London, and not without success!”
Alexander shook his head in mock dismay. “It is different to flirt with the affections of maidens than to foster love in the heart of one’s wife.”
“Ah, so for once in your days, you wish for more than mere pleasure abed.” Malcolm grinned, his own woes forgotten. “Are you smitten, brother mine?”
Alexander only smiled.
Malcolm nodded, apparently satisfied. “I shall tell you the sole thing I know about the courtship of women, for my success in such endeavors could never begin to match your own,” he said. “This counsel comes from Uncle Tynan, and I am not certain that he meant to confide it in me. He might merely have been speaking his thoughts aloud.”
This was no tempting prospect, in Alexander’s view, for Tynan had died unwed after rejecting the affection offered wholeheartedly by Rosamunde. “Indeed?”
Malcolm frowned. “He said that it is of import to have gifts to bestow upon a lady while courting her. He said he feared that he and Rosamunde had never found happiness together because there was nothing he could offer to her that she did not already possess.”
“He could have surrendered his love to her,” Alexander noted. “For she could not have had that otherwise.”
Malcolm ignored this. “I think he believed that gifts soften a woman’s heart and he disliked that Rosamunde had such wealth of her own. He only gave her the silver ring that our grandfather had bestowed upon his own bride.”
“And Rosamunde gave it back.”
Malcolm nodded. “He wore it all the time after she left his side, and he would stare at it every night in silence. I think he knew that he had forsaken his opportunity, and I think he believed that the one gift he had given her had not been the right one.”
Alexander stared into his cup and considered this. There might be wisdom in it, after all. Would the right gift given to Eleanor in the right moment dissolve her determination to be rid of him? Could he prove himself to be a spouse worth the keeping?
Eleanor had an affection for horses, of that Alexander was certain. He recalled the admiration in her eyes when she had stroked the steeds of the departing parties the day before. Her features had lit as seldom they did. He could envision Eleanor upon one of the black horses of Ravensmuir, and recalled all too well how she had walked from Ewen’s abode. Perhaps she had left a favored steed behind, being uncertain of her destination. Perhaps Ewen had denied her a steed of her own.
And so, what better way to persuade her that Alexander courted her affection? Further, if he gave her the means to flee him, would that not show that he had no desire to imprison her against her will? Might that not show him better than her former spouses?
A man could only try.
He fixed Malcolm with a bright gaze. “Do you fully surrender Ravensmuir’s steeds unto me?”
“Of course. I know that you will see them well treated and that you know as much of breeding as do I. You lived at Ravensmuir for years, after all, while Uncle Tynan trained you for knighthood.”
“Then I think I shall choose a mare for my lady wife,” Alexander said, pushing to his feet with resolve.
“What a splendid wedding gift!” Malcolm agreed. “I will aid you in the choosing, for I know the nature of each horse. We can make a match to her own nature.”
But the men would not have to do as much in the lady’s absence. Just as they rose from the board with purpose, Alexander saw Eleanor at the foot of the stairs. She seemed hesitant to approach him, and he cursed himself for creating that hesitation.
He turned and smiled, offering his hand. “Eleanor, come and meet my brother Malcolm.”
* * * * *
Eleanor crossed the hall floor with deliberate steps, taking the opportunity to study this new arrival. So, this was one of the brothers who would welcome the seal of Kinfairlie, should Alexander die without an heir. He was younger than her husband, but not by much. They shared the same ebony hair and muscled build, though Malcolm had green eyes. They were far less attractive, to Eleanor’s thinking, than eyes of sparkling blue.
Eleanor smiled politely even as she resolved that Malcolm would never win her husband’s holding. It would pass to their son, of that she meant to be certain.
They exchanged greetings; then Malcolm smiled at Eleanor. “Do you ride often, then?” he asked, and she had the sense that she had stepped into the midst of a conversation.
“Of course, I was taught to ride, all noblewomen are,” she said, sparing a glance to Alexander. He looked as innocent as an angel, a most uncommon expression for him, and one that made her wonder at his intent. “Why do you ask?”
“I have asked Alexander to ensure the care of the horses from my stable in my absence, and he proposes to grant you one as a wedding gift.”
Eleanor felt the blood drain from her face at the prospect. She could not endure past horror again!
She felt her mouth work for a moment before she managed to make a sound. “I have no need of a steed of my own,” she said, her voice unsteady. “Though I thank you for the thought.”
“It is more than a thought,” Alexander said, claiming her elbow. “It is a deed to be done. Come along and aid in the choosing.”
“No!” Eleanor cried with such vigor that the entire household turned to look. “I beg of you, no. I have no desire for a horse.” Her words fell with uncharacteristic haste, in her fear that t
he past was to be repeated. “I am content to walk, truly.”
Alexander bent toward her, his eyes gleaming. “Eleanor, you make little sense in this,” he said in that quiet but firm tone that brooked no argument. “You need not fear the expense,” he said, mistaking the reason for her protest. “I will see my lady with a mount of her own, and that is how matters shall be.”
“I will not choose one,” she insisted, knowing she sounded like a fool. “I will take no part in this scheme.” And then, because he looked inclined to insist, she lied. “I am afraid of horses, Alexander.”
“But you said that you learned to ride young…”
“And so I did, and for years I did so, despite my fear. But I have had numerous bad experiences and do not venture near steeds any longer.”
“The best remedy for a fall is to climb into the saddle again,” Malcolm said, his manner helpful. “And you need not fear that a Ravensmuir horse will throw you. It takes much to provoke them.”
“No!” Eleanor said, too loudly. “I decline your gift!” She turned furiously upon Alexander, knowing she sounded mad, but needing to ensure that this did not occur. “Have the grace to accept my refusal! I will have no horse!”
The household stood in astonished silence, but Eleanor pivoted and left the hall. Once on the stairs, she ran as quickly as she could for the sanctuary of the solar. She pushed past one of Alexander’s sisters on the stairs, sparing no time to answer her query. She flung herself into the solar and turned the key against the lot of them.
It was only then that Eleanor let herself weep. It was her own folly at fault, to be sure. She had betrayed Blanchefleur’s memory by showing affection to the horses the day before, and now her affection would be used against her.
As it had been before.
She could not let that crime happen again, she could not—she cared not what she had to say to make it so. Let them think her mad. So long as the steeds were safe, she did not care.
* * * * *
Alexander looked after his wife in undisguised astonishment.
“Most women would welcome such a rich gift, as I have heard it told,” Malcolm said.
“I, too, would expect as much,” Alexander said, sensing that there was more to this matter than the refusal of a gift. Eleanor had panicked. He had seen the terror in her eyes, though he could not fathom the reason for it.
“I suppose her vigor is less astonishing if one knows of her fear,” Malcolm said.
“I am not certain that it is horses she fears,” Alexander said, then told his brother of her response the day before. Malcolm then shared his confusion. “I think we should choose one for her, despite this incident.”
“Perhaps she thinks the gift too generous,” Malcolm suggested. “Or does not dare to believe it possible that she could have a steed of her own. If she is fond of them, it might seem a lofty notion.”
“Indeed. She was at the window when you arrived, so she knows how fine the steeds are,” Alexander agreed. “Perhaps she dares not desire one, out of fear that she will be disappointed.”
“Have you disappointed your bride overmuch?” Malcolm teased.
Alexander had no chance to reply, for Isabella swept across the hall with no small indignation. “What have you done to your bride?” she demanded. “How could you make her cry so early in the day, Alexander? She is not so accustomed to your pranks as we are! And this after you have left her alone for two days and two nights. You are a churlish knave, to be sure.”
“I would merely grant her a gift,” he said, lifting his hands in appeal. “Is it not fitting for a man to bestow a gift upon his bride?” The company chuckled at his manner and settled back to their meal, though doubtless a good measure of the gossip in the hall was about the laird and his lady.
“She must not believe you,” Isabella said with authority. “Though goodness knows how she would have discerned already that you can be merciless in teasing another soul.”
“Perhaps she is uncommonly perceptive,” Malcolm jested, and Isabella gasped with delight at the sight of him.
“Malcolm! I did not realize that you were home!” She hastened to give him a hug, then beamed at her brothers. “You should have told us that he was coming,” she informed Alexander.
“I did not know. He has only just arrived, and I dared not send word to awaken you too soon. I suspected, after all, that you would sleep much later than this.”
Isabella’s affection for lingering abed was well-known and Malcolm laughed at this reminder. “Truly, are you Isabella?” he said, stepping back to study the maiden in question. “You resemble her, to be sure, but I have never seen my sister Isabella before noon.”
Isabella swatted at his shoulder and missed.
“It is guilt keeping her awake,” Alexander said solemnly. “For she did try to kill me Christmas Eve.” Isabella gasped at this accusation and made to qualify it, but Malcolm granted her no chance to speak.
“Why did you wait so long?” he demanded of her. “We could have been rid of him years ago. It would have been so much simpler when we were younger.”
They all laughed at this, though Alexander spared a glance for the stairs. Would it make matters worse to pursue Eleanor, or should he leave her be? The fact remained that she had never yet shown so much emotion as she had over the prospect of being given a horse. He had a sense that the veil over one of her secrets had been disturbed.
And the best way, he was certain, to completely reveal that secret was to proceed along the same course.
“Isabella, would you be of aid to us?” he asked. “You are as tall as Eleanor. Would you help us choose a mare for her to have as her own?”
“You mean to give her a horse?” Isabella’s mouth fell open in her astonishment. Alexander would have wagered that there was no small measure of jealousy in her response. “For her very own?”
“One of Ravensmuir’s mares,” Malcolm contributed.
Isabella gaped at this apparent injustice. “But you have known her only a few days! You have known me for every day of my life. Alexander, you must grant a steed to me!”
“Every bride should have a nuptial gift,” Alexander said mildly. “Perhaps your husband, when you choose one, will grant you a steed as well.”
Isabella glowered at him. “You mean to incite me to choose a suitor hurriedly.”
Alexander shrugged. “If you delay, then you cannot blame me for making your choice for you.”
Isabella’s eyes flashed, but suddenly she regarded him with suspicion. “It is no small gift to give a woman a horse of this ilk. You have already given her a gem.”
“Every bride also has need of a ring to seal her vows,” Alexander said.
“You see?” Malcolm teased. “Marriage is not without its merit.”
“It is more than that.” Isabella’s eyes gleamed. “You are smitten with her!”
“I am not smitten,” Alexander argued, but they both laughed at him so merrily that it seemed churlish to dispute the matter further. There was a measure of truth in it, after all, for he was at least fascinated with his lady wife. “Come along, the two of you, let us choose a steed for my lady.” He made to march out of his hall, not waiting to see whether they followed him, but Anthony stepped into his course just before the portal.
“I would ask of you, my lord, whether the men in the stables would be staying for the midday meal.”
Alexander kept a smile on his lips, not wanting Malcolm to realize the full import of what he had asked of his elder brother. “Of course, Anthony. In fact, the party from Ravensmuir will remain at Kinfairlie indefinitely, while Malcolm himself will finger only through Epiphany.” Anthony’s shock was clear, which meant that it must be considerable. The older man was usually adept at hiding his thoughts.
Alexander spoke quickly, the better not to have Anthony’s doubts expressed. “There is fodder for the horses, which will also remain, at Ravensmuir, though the ostlers intend to collect it today.”
“But, m
y lord…”
“It is Christmas, Anthony, and I am certain that our guests can be ably accommodated.” Alexander spoke with cheer.
The castellan drew himself up to his full height and looked Alexander in the eye. “Perhaps, my lord, you might spare a moment for the cook, that you might decide the meat to be served at the midday meal this day.”
There was not sufficient of it, Alexander knew as much already. He held his castellan’s gaze, relieved that the older man seemed to have understood the situation. “It is the Feast of Holy Innocents this day, is it not?” The castellan nodded minutely. “And such a holy day is a fitting one for a measure of restraint. Please instruct the cook to bake bread with brown flour and ask of him to ascertain the quantity of fish at our disposal. I shall return shortly to review matters with him.”
“Of course, my lord.” Anthony bowed and Alexander strode out of the hall, willing his siblings to silence.
“I hate brown bread,” Isabella said with some vexation.
“It is better than none,” Malcolm retorted. “I welcome any morsel after these past months at Ravensmuir. The larder has been spare, to be sure.”
Isabella flushed. “You should have come sooner,” she chided, taking his elbow. “There is always food aplenty at Kinfairlie, that is one matter upon which we can all rely.” Alexander said nothing. To his relief, the matter was dropped, for they arrived at the stables and the horses of Ravensmuir, as always, drove all other concerns from his sister’s thoughts.
Indeed, they were magnificent beasts, and his own awe was no less considerable.
* * * * *
Eleanor took a shaking breath and straightened after her uncharacteristic storm of tears. She heard footsteps and voices and looked out the solar window in time to see Alexander crossing the bailey with Malcolm and one of his sisters. The fiery red of the maiden’s hair and her height indicated that it was Isabella. It must have been Isabella who had passed Eleanor on the stairs. The three made their way to the stables, Alexander striding with such purpose that Eleanor was newly afraid of his intent.
The Snow White Bride Page 21