"Aye, Flam. She is a flirt." He tilted Alex's chin towards him and looked her in the eye. "But I dinna care for her. If I canna marry you, I wilna marry another. I…" He grimaced. "My heart couldna stand it."
That took Alex's breath away. "But you… we… You hardly know me," she finished in a rush.
In the lamplight, the blue of his eyes was so intense that it burned into her soul. "Mayhap that is true. But I know enough to be sure that my heart is lost to ye, and that I will never love another."
She gasped. "You… you love me?"
"Aye. From the first moment I saw ye." His mouth quirked. "Although I thought ye were a laddie back then. Mayhap from when ye lost that ugly bonnet." He pushed a lock of hair from her forehead and drew her into his arms again. "When I saw your lovely hair and your beautiful face I was lost. Perhaps in time ye can come to love me. I'm a patient man. And I wilna ask," a smile tickled at his lips, "for ye to join me in my big, comfortable, feather bed, until ye feel the same way about me."
At his words, her heart swelled so much that she thought she might burst. "Michael Cranstoun," she started, then corrected herself. "Sir Michael Cranstoun, if 'tweren't for my father, I would join you in your big, comfortable, feather bed right now."
He blinked. "So… you… Are ye saying…"
"Yes." She swallowed. "I love you Michael Cranstoun, even though you are a Scot and the most infuriating man I ever met! I'd marry you tomorrow—if you're happy to live at Gilston, and as long as you'll let me work for the queen."
In answer, Michael swept her into a toe-curling kiss; an embrace that underlined his protestations of love and made her wish that his big feather bed was here, rather than miles away at Stobs.
"We'll just have to be sure to persuade your father," he said when they finally broke apart.
"Yes." She would think on it tonight; find the right words to persuade Iron Simon to let her marry a Scotsman. For once she would prepare, rather than impetuously saying or doing the first thing that came into her head.
If she was to be Lady Cranstoun and attend the queen of Scots at court, she would need to learn to control her tongue. Now is as good a time to start as any.
CHAPTER THREE
ALEX SHOOK HER head groggily and sat up in bed. What is that infernal noise? It sounded like someone was trying to break down the front door of the bastle house.
Across from her, Libby Preston's face matched the white of her coverlet. "Is it the English?" she asked in a whisper.
I hope not. Alex shook her head. "We'd have heard more noise. An army doesn't come soundlessly into a town this size." Throwing back the blankets, she jumped out of bed. "But whoever it is, we can't be meeting them like this. We should get dressed."
The banging on the door below stopped, and then a few minutes later footsteps pattered up the stone stairs and someone knocked on their door. With no further ado, a servant came in and bowed. "My Lady Graham, the queen requests you join her in the hall."
Alex finished pulling on her boots, then stood up. "Lead on."
Curiosity vying with worry, Alex followed the maid to the great hall on the first floor, then stopped in surprise. "Father!"
In the centre of the room, flanked by Hob and Evan, Iron Simon stood with his legs braced and his knuckles on his hips, facing the queen. Mary, attended by Maitland, Seton and the ever-present Flam, sat at the head of a large oak table, her auburn hair tied at the back of her head and dark shadows framing her green eyes. At the other end of the table sat Michael with Sir Thomas.
Iron Simon turned at the sound of the door, and the tension left his shoulders. "You are safe!" He gave a satisfied nod. "Now, what is this I'm told about you betrothing yourself to this Scotsman? I'm not having my lands annexed by Scotland." He wiped his hands metaphorically. "Forget him, and marry young Musgrave; a good match that will benefit both our clans."
Alex took a deep breath and waited for her heart to stop racing. Think before you speak. This was important, and she needed to use the arguments she'd rehearsed in bed last night, or all would be lost, and the rest of her life—and Michael's—would be ruined.
"Father," she started, looking him in the eye, "you told me once that your marriage to mother was an arranged union; agreed between your father and the Lowthers. They wanted to consolidate the influence of both clans and extend your lands."
Iron Simon gave a curt nod. "That is true. 'Twas a good alliance. As will be yours to Musgrave."
Ignoring that last comment, she clenched her hands together. "And when I was younger, I overheard you one night—in your cups—saying to Evan that you wished you'd been able to marry for love; that Hob's mother would have surely made you happier."
"I never said—"
Alex raised her eyebrows and looked to her uncle. "Is your memory any better, uncle? Mayhap you had not partaken of so much ale."
Evan grimaced. But told the truth. "I recall something of the sort, yes."
With a nod, Alex turned to her father again. "So, from your own words, a marriage for love would be better than one that is merely a marriage of convenience." She straightened her spine. "Michael Cranstoun may be a Scot, but I love him, and he loves me."
Simon's face went hard, and Alex's spirits quailed. "That's as maybe," he said with a scowl. "But he is a Scot. And you are an English lady; heiress to my keep and lands, destined to lead our clan one day."
"And, married to Michael, I would have grandsons who could inherit Kersdale and lead the clan. A male heir to keep it in the family." She narrowed her eyes. "Married to Musgrave, there would be no grandsons—no children at all—for he is ugly and gouty, and I would not let him in my bed."
"You would give up your clan—and your birthright—for love?" Simon flicked a dismissive hand at Michael. "What can this man offer you? He is nothing, merely a messenger to the queen."
At this, Michael bristled, and Mary, who had been silent until now, stepped in.
"Lord Graham, Cranstoun is no mere messenger," said the Queen. "He is a knight of my realm, and Sir Michael is laird of a powerful castle and a clan that prospers, even in these difficult times. 'e would be a good match for any woman."
At this, Simon deflated somewhat.
Alex pressed her advantage. "And yesterday the queen conferred lands in Scotland on me, for I—we—helped save her life." She put her hands on her hips. "What would you have—a loveless marriage to a fat Englishman producing no grandchildren, or one that would extend our family lands into Scotland and provide heirs to continue your family line?"
CHAPTER FOUR
MICHAEL HAD NOT thought it possible for Alex to look more ravishing than she had at their hand-fasting ceremony. But somehow she had done it.
He had been so proud of her, when, with her arguments rather than her temper, she had persuaded her father—however reluctantly—to agree to their union. And now, here they were, in the historic grandeur of Jedburgh Abbey, about to plight their troth.
A vision of loveliness, she floated down the aisle on her father's arm, her face wreathed in smiles and her lovely body adorned by the most beautiful dress of russet and cream satin, encrusted with jewels and embroidered in gold. Tiny cream rosebuds had been set into her hair, which was curled and piled onto the top of her head, emphasising the elegance of her neck and the translucence of her skin.
Sun streamed through the brightly-coloured stained glass windows which dappled their iridescent hues onto the flagstone floor of the nave, so it seemed like Alex walked on a glorious carpet of flowers.
Slipping into place beside him, she took his hand, and it stilled the racing of his heart.
Around them, stone pillars soared and gothic arches leaped, but they could not fly so high or lightly as his heart. For the woman he loved was beside him, and in a few short moments they would be joined forever.
When it came to the part of the ceremony where they exchanged their vows, Alex looked him in the eye, speaking directly to his soul, as if there was nobody else there. She pledged
to love him forever, to care for him always, and even to obey him—although, knowing Alex, she probably had her fingers crossed surreptitiously when she spoke that part.
That thought made him smile, and then it was time for him to give his own vows.
* * *
The intensity of Michael's gaze when he spoke his vows made Alex's toes curl and her skin tingle. In brand-new doublet and hose, with his freshly washed hair shining like finest gold and his freshly shaven face as smooth as honey, he looked more like a handsome mythical hero then ever before.
But he is my very own hero. The man who had saved her life, helped save her from Bothwell, and captured her heart forever. And she was so proud of him—he was laird of a castle, deputy warden of the Borders, and protector of the queen. Life with him would never be boring, she was sure, and she couldn't wait for that life together to start.
As the priest intoned the final words and pronounced that they were now married in the sight of God and the church, Michael swept her into an embrace that for decorum's sake was brief, but still managed to weaken her knees and take her breath away.
As they turned to face the congregation and proceed out of the church as man and wife, Michael leaned towards her and whispered huskily in her ear, "Did I tell ye, lass—I canna wait to get ye into that big, comfortable, feather bed!"
She gave him an impish grin and squeezed his hand. "Likewise."
END MATTER
Chapter Four
ASSIZES*: A TRAVELLING justice court (see Eyres)
Baldrick: A diagonal belt, worn from shoulder to hip, to support a sword
Bastle House: A fortified house, often a farmhouse
Borders (The Borders): The southern counties of Scotland, adjacent to the border with England
Burn (eg Braidley Burn): A stream
Cramoisie: Crimson/purple
Day of Truce: The monthly meeting of the Wardens of the Scottish and English Marches, where they would dispense justice
Dirk: Dagger
Doglock rifle: An early firearm
Drove Road: A track used by shepherds and cattle herders to take stock to market
Drystane dyke: A wall made of rough stones placed together without mortar
Eyres: A circuit made by an itinerant judge (see Assizes)
Garron: A small, sturdy Scottish pony (see Hobbler)
Gavotte: An old French dance
Glen: A Scottish valley
Half armour: Steel breastplate
Hand-fasting: A formal promise of marriage, signified by the joining of hands and making of promises
Hobbler: A small, sturdy Borders pony (see Garron)
Hot Trod: The legal pursuit of reivers with the aim of catching them red-handed. Signified by the carrying of a burning turf on the point of a spear, and valid for up to six days after the robbery, after which it was called a 'cold trod'
Keep: Castle or tower (see Peel)
Kinsmen: Family or clansmen
Knowe (eg Swire Knowe): Hill
Marches: The areas Scotland and England adjacent to the Border. Each country had East, Middle and West Marches
Mizzle: Misty drizzle.
Osprey: A large bird of prey.
Palfrey: A riding horse particularly suitable for a woman.
Peel House, Peel Tower: A fortified, stone-built tower (see Keep)
Portcullis: Iron grating designed to slide down and prevent entrance to a castle.
Posset: A warm drink of wine and curdled milk
Reiver: A thieving rider.
Shieling: A rough shelter on or near a grazing ground
Turnpike (stair): A spiral staircase
Warden (of the Marches): Official in charge of dispensing justice in the Borderlands (see Day of Truce)
Chapter Five
ALEXANDRA GRAHAM - DAUGHTER of Simon and heiress to Kersdale Keep
Michael Cranstoun - Deputy Warden of the Scottish Middle March, laird of Penchrise and Master of Stobs Castle
Alexander, Lord Home - warden of the Scottish East March
Archie (o' the Bell) Armstrong of Whithaugh
Mrs (Beth) Beattie - Michael's housekeeper
Dod Armstrong of Mangerton - notorious reiver
Duke - Alex's horse
Evan Graham - Simon's brother, Alex's uncle.
Francis Russell, Earl of Bedford - Warden of the English East March
George Gordon, 5th Earl of Huntly
George Seton, 7th Lord Seton - half-brother of Mary Seton and Master of the Queen's household
Henry, Lord Scrope - Warden of the English West March
Henry Stewart, Lord Darnley - Mary's husband and cousin
Hob Forster - Alex's friend
James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell - Member of Mary's Privy Council
James Stewart, Earl of Moray - Mary's half-brother, illegitimate son of James V, member of her Privy Council
Lady Jean Gordon - Bothwell's wife and Huntly's sister
Jupiter - Mary Queen of Scots' dog
Little Jock Elliot of the Park - Notorious reiver
Sir John Forster - Warden of the English Middle March
Sir John Maxwell - Warden of the Scottish West March
Libby (Elizabeth) Logan of Preston - Lady-in-Waiting to Mary Queen of Scots
Mary Beaton - Lady-in-Waiting to Mary Queen of Scots
Mary Fleming - Lady-in-Waiting to Mary Queen of Scots
Mary Livingston - Lady-in-Waiting to Mary Queen of Scots
Mary Seton - Lady-in-Waiting to Mary Queen of Scots
Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots
Mist - Michael's favourite horse
Peter Forster - Bondman to Simon Graham
Robert Elliot of the Shaws - leader of the Elliots
Iron Simon Graham, Lord of Kersdale - Alex's father.
Spirit - Michael's horse
Stonegarth brothers
Sir Thomas Kerr, Laird of Ferniehirst
Tom Turnbull - Michael's liegeman
Sir Walter Ker - Warden of the Scottish Middle March
William Livingstone, 6th Lord Livingston - Brother of Mary Fleming and member of the Privy Council
William Maitland of Lethington - Mary's Secretary
Chapter Six
WRITING A HISTORICAL novel is always a challenge. For every history book you read, there are a dozen more that you could read. And every third book you read will contradict things that were said in the two that preceded it… So which do you believe? And when do you stop?
The thing about history is that if you weren't actually there, you can't know exactly what happened—or why—unless someone has written it down, or some archaeologist has dug up evidence. And even then, can we be sure it's true? For we all know the saying that history is written by the victors, and everyone has his (or her) point of view, usually biased…
For example, Mary Queen of Scots' enemies spread rumours that she and Bothwell were lovers long before her husband Darnley died and Bothwell became her third husband. So that was what was seen as 'truth' for many years, until recent research showed that this was actually most unlikely. Instead, her marriage to the Earl was more likely the result of coercion (on his part) and political expediency which convinced her to chose a strong man as her consort.
The historical characters in my book
To avoid conflicting with real history, the main characters (Alex and Michael) are fictional, as are most of the side characters like Hob Forster or Iron Simon. However, the remainder of the cast are real people from history—the Queen, Bothwell, Mary Fleming, the wardens.
The events in this book that relate to the Queen and Bothwell are real too—she really did rush from Jedburgh via Stobs Castle to Hermitage to visit him after he'd been injured in a fight with Little Jock Elliot; she fell in a bog, and nearly died. I've just added scenes from Alex and Michael's lives around those very real historical events.
Warring families
Border history made some of my decisions more challenging, though. For e
xample, not much is known of the Deputy Wardens, which gave me fairly free rein to choose who Michael would be. I wanted him to be from one of the major families of the Scottish Middle March—but not a Kerr, as his warden was a Kerr (or rather, Ker—another version of the same name) and that would be confusing.
So I initially had him as a Scott (an early member of the famous Sir Walter Scott's family). Then I researched castles that belonged to the Scotts where the ownership in 1566 was unclear (so that it could've been his), and had intended him to be laird of Aikwood Tower near Selkirk, which was refurbished in recent times by the famous Scottish Member of Parliament, Lord David Steel.
…until I read a little more, and discovered that the Scotts and Kerrs had been mortal enemies until 1572 when they'd finally been united by marriage. So there was no way Walter Ker would've chosen a Scott as his deputy! Back to the drawing board!
This time I started with the castles, looking for a suitable seat for Michael which would work with the geography of the story. Stobs Castle on the direct route between Hermitage and Jedburgh was the ideal candidate, for it was owned by the Cranstoun family until around 1607 when it passed to the Elliots. But it was destroyed by fire in 1712 and all the family papers were burned, so little is known of its early history—ideal from my point of view!
Further reading
For readers who are interested to know more of the historical setting of this book, there are a couple of very readable non-fiction books which will let you learn more about the reivers and the wardens:
The Steel Bonnets by George MacDonald Fraser
The Reivers by Alistair Moffat
To learn more about Mary Queen of Scots, the best books I've found are:
Mary Queen of Scots and the Murder of Lord Darnley by Alison Weir
Mary Queen of Scots by Antonia Fraser
A Love Beyond: A Scottish Historical Romance (The Reivers Book 2) Page 3