In the far distant hallway he could hear his niece talking to his dogs, leaning back in his stool he looked out the door. Seeing Isobel and his wolfhounds, his heart sank a little. No Elisabeth. Surely that was not a promising sign for his night to come.
His dogs noticed him well before the rambling five year old. The two great wolfhounds trotted over to him; sitting down at his feet they put their heads in his lap as he watched Isobel cross under the large stone archway into the armory.
“Hello lass, where is Aunt Elisabeth?” He asked as he scratched behind both dogs’ ears. Climbing up into the stool next to him, Isobel replied, “In the solar room, crying.” She sighed as she picked up the piece of wood, “She said her heart hurts, can you fix her?” She asked innocently, looking up at him. It took everything he could to do hide his reaction to his niece’s words. Isobel’s innocent words told him so much about Elisabeth’s current state.
Sighing heavily, “We have to remember Aunt Elisabeth lost everyone she held dear over a month ago lass, the pain still hurts her.” He knew well enough that wasn’t exactly why she was crying, it was something more, but he didn’t need to explain that to a five year old.
Isobel looked up at him and blinked, letting out a sigh, “You’ll fix her Uncle, just like you did when you saved her life. I just know it.” She sat smiling brightly up at him as if he could conquer any foe, her faith in him was endearing.
The two of them sat alone in the large armory, their voices echoing off the stone walls, handing the raw wood piece to Isobel he asked, “Ye ready to make your bow lass? We can carve it right now and let it dry for a few days before we string it up.” Clapping with delight, Isobel smiled brightly at him, “Aye Uncle Broderick!”
Broderick and Isobel worked on her bow for hours, they talked about Elisabeth and then Isobel’s mother. They talked about the wolfhounds, and how she wanted her very own wolfhound pup. Broderick taught her the steps in creating and shaping a bow, how to measure for size and fit. His little niece sat next to him for hours and happily chatted away while they talked and made the bow. Isobel kept Broderick so busy, he had lost track of time, Kendrix eventually had to come searching for them. Her bow had been intricately carved, and hung up to dry by the time Kendrix came to collect his daughter.
Waving goodbye to the two, Broderick watched Kendrix and Isobel head to dinner as they walked out of the armory together. Cleaning up his workspace, he adjusted his tartan and locked the armory behind him as he left. His thoughts were once again on his beautiful wife.
Night had come calling while he and Isobel worked away in the armory. A light winter snow fell from the sky as he adjusted his new fur over his shoulders before walking out into the courtyard towards the castle. The walk was a lengthy one that took him through the rows of huts that led up to the castle. Late in the evening, families were having dinner and warming themselves by the fire, there was not a soul to be found as he walked up the well-worn path to the keep.
Hearing his name behind him he stopped in the darkening courtyard and turned to see Siobhan running to catch up with him. His hounds stood beside him and growled as the woman approached, they never had liked her. He agreed with their intuition. Seeing his one-time betrothed waving him down, he stood perfectly still and waited for her to catch up with him. He was in no mood to argue with her.
“My Laird, thank goodness I found you! This letter just arrived, ‘tis for your wife, I assume you are heading up to see her.” Lifting the sealed envelope from her tartan she smiled at him.
Swiping it out of her hands with a scowl, Broderick turned to walk away when he heard her say, “Curious, I could have sworn the guards say it was another Douglas courier for her, not the first one that they’ve received. Curious your wife corresponds with the same man Fiona did. I told ye should never have married her, you’ll be seen as a fool yet again Broderick.”
Turning around, his fist tightened as he looked at the raven-haired beauty, “Watch your mouth Siobhan.” Turning back towards the castle he seethed as he stomped through the winter courtyard. He recognized the writing on the missive, it was from Kincaid. Since she had been here, he had never once received a letter directed to her, all communication had been sent to him. Did his wife really communicate behind his back? Was it possible she was another female spy like Fiona had been all those years ago?
Behind him a Siobhan stood perfectly still, crossing her arms a wicked smiled appeared on lovely face as she watched him walk away as she stood in the snowy courtyard of the castle. Everything was going as planned.
Bursting into the keep he marched straight for their rooms, his dogs ran ahead of him towards their mistress. Taking the stairs two at a time he was seething by the time he reached her solar door, opening her door with force he looked around to see the room devoid of her presence. Turning around he walked across the hall and kicked his door open, sending it bouncing against the stone.
***
Whirling around at the sound of the large wooden door bounce off the wall. Elisabeth turned quickly to see Broderick in the doorway, taking her hand off the handle of her sword.
Standing before the fireplace, Elisabeth cast her gaze over her husband. After a long nap and good cry, she had changed and came into Broderick’s room awaiting his return. She had much to talk about with him, she knew she had to open up and share her worries with her husband. Able to see only his shadow she starting walking closer, as the light hit his face, her heart sank, “What is wrong Broderick?”
She watched as he walked into the room, slamming the door behind him. Unchaining his new black sable fur he tossed it on their bed. His eyes were cold, his jaw was clenched, and his posture told her something was seriously wrong. He had not addressed her, or even acknowledged her presence.
She observed him with worried eyes as he walked over to his wardrobe unlacing his bracers and tossed them on the table. With his back to her, she stood utterly confused. She watched him pull off his linen shirt and toss it on the ground, reminding herself she had yelled at him on their ride this afternoon, and she also had coolly dismissed him afterward in the stable.
Unaccustomed to this type of reaction from him, she assumed it was punishment for the way she treated him today. Silently walking across the room, she ran her hands around his waist and squeezed him from behind, placing her cheek against his muscular back. Accepting she had hurt his feelings today, she felt guilty as she hugged him from behind. Almost immediately she felt him tense at her touch, she removed her hands like she had touched hot irons and took a step back, “What is wrong with you Broderick?” This time, her question was asked with more authority.
Before her Broderick slowly turned and pulled a letter from his waist, handing it to her his eyes were cold and barren, devoid of any emotion. “Getting love letters so soon Elisabeth? Is that why you do not want to carry my children? This came for you today, shall we read it together and see what your lover has to say?” The anger and resentment were clear in his voice, his entire body radiated danger as he spoke. She had never heard him be so cruel. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she scanned his eyes. What had happened?
“Lover? Are you serious right now? Do you realize what you are accusing me of?” Plucking the letter from his hands, she flipped it over to see the seal had not been broken yet. Addressed to her in a script she was familiar with, she stood before Broderick and broke the seal. She quick looked up at his angered face one last time before she read the missive. He appeared to already believe her guilty.
Clenching her jaw she lowered her eyes and read the familiar handwriting, her heart sank as she read line after line from Kincaid. Her skin prickled as she attempted to contain her emotions. With each line, it had gotten worse.
***
Broderick watched Elisabeth read the letter before him, he hadn’t opened it yet, he wanted to watch her read it in front of him and try to deny it. He watched as tears pooled in her green eyes as she read line after line, her face lost all color as she loo
ked up at him. The letter fell from her trembling hands as she looked into his eyes and then bolted from the room, slamming the door behind her. Was she so guilty she wouldn’t even try to deny it? Was she fleeing this very moment into Kincaid’s arms?
Closing his eyes he attempted to regain control of his temper, his blood was boiling. His fists clenched at his sides he heard her solar door slam moments later as he stood there. Opening his eyes quickly he looked down at the letter she had dropped on the ground. So many things had gone wrong today, he had never felt such volatile feelings in his life. The possibility that Elisabeth was playing him for a fool, just like Fiona had done turned his world upside down. His head and heart were battling a familiar war once again.
Bending down he picked up the letter; taking a deep breath he mentally prepared himself to read a letter that could incriminate the woman he loved. Standing up he opened the parchment and began to read.
Elisabeth,
So quickly you forget your family’s blood still stains the grounds of your home while you whore away with MacMillan swine. You will soon learn you should have heeded my warnings; I do not deal lightly with disobedience. Hundreds died because of you, you Elisabeth…. You murdered your family. You murdered your clan by your selfish actions. So easily they could have been saved if you had only become my wife.
You ran to the arms of a man who has been waiting years to claim Drummond land, so easily you give away what should have been mine. You will pay Elisabeth. How many more lives have to perish before your pride falls? Perhaps I’ll make an example out of that sweet little blonde girl you have befriended? Isobel, isn’t that her name? I wonder if she would scream as loudly as your mother did when I murdered her.
Oh yes, I am watching you Elisabeth. I hope you enjoyed your training today, for soon I will be coming for you.
Maybe this time innocent people will not have to die because of you.
Your future husband,
Kincaid.
“Fuck!” Letting the letter fall to the floor.
God he was such a fool, so quickly did he believe she was guilty of conspiracy, so quickly he had tossed aside his trust and love and accused her of such vile deeds erroneously. Running out his door he saw the solar door was thrown wide, running over he saw her fur and weapons were gone, she was gone.
Swinging back into his room he threw on a clean shirt and grabbed his fur and sword, his dogs were already following her scent as he ran down the stairs. Running down the stairs he laced his braces as he watched his dogs seek her out. Conn and Isla took a turn down the nearest corridor and stopped directly before Isobel’s door, the door was slightly ajar. Watching his dogs nudge the door open, he saw Elisabeth fully armed, his fur over her shoulders kneeling before Isobel’s bed, weeping at the beside of the sleeping youngling.
Seeing his beautiful little niece safe, his eyes ran over his wife whose heart he had just broke. Walking in, he knelt beside Elisabeth and tilted her jaw so she would look at him, tears rolled down her face as she hesitantly looked into his eyes.
Shaking her head and whispering, “No more Broderick, no more will die for me. I will not let him touch her, I will surrender myself before that ever happens!”
“You will never be his my love. I will die first. I am so sorry Elisabeth; I don’t understand my reactions myself. I am ashamed of my accusations.” Lifting her up gently in his arms, he walked out of Isobel’s room kicking the door shut softly behind him.
Sitting her on her feet he grabbed her hand and nodded for her to follow him. Walking through the candlelit corridors, Broderick clasped Elisabeth’s trembling hand and led her to the kitchens, their dogs at their heels.
Letting go of her hand he walked around the kitchen and selected a few items before grabbing a bottle of fresh mead out of the cabinet, looking back he saw her watching him as she rubbed the lingering tears off her face.
“What are you doing Broderick?” She asked as he walked back towards her.
“You and I are going to have a picnic in one of my most favorite places, we are going to disappear for the night… and I am going to spend all night begging forgiveness,” he handed her the bottle of mead as he nodded for her to follow him.
***
Elisabeth was at her breaking point, the stress of vows of revenge, vows of marriage and children, and the chilling letter from Kincaid had her on edge. Having Broderick assume she was conspiring against him broke her heart. She needed her husband to trust her, to have faith in her despite whatever may happen. She yearned for that.
Following him down the darkened corridor her head spun with what to say. She knew she had to open up to him about her fears; she had to accept it would take time for him to trust her. Her mother had taught her well, she knew she couldn’t force it; she had to show Broderick how to trust. No matter how many times he broke her heart, she refused to give up on him. She would prove it to him; she would withstand the heartbreak for him.
Walking beside Broderick she saw Conn and Isla jot out in front of them, leading the way, the wolfhounds trotted in the direction of the north tower. She had remembered Old Rhona never gave her a tour of this tower, thinking back it was as if there as a line she wouldn’t cross. Looking up at her husband she gave him a questioning glance. This was the one spot of the castle she had yet to venture, it was locked at all times.
“The north tower is only assessable to myself, I have the lone key. The tower is my sanctuary from the duties of being laird here. My grandfather built the tower for this purpose only; it has been this way for generations.”
Down the hall she could see the massive stone archway that connected the castle to the north tower, walking next to Broderick she chose to remain silent. He was allowing her in his most solitary personal space he had, for a man who had a hard time trusting her, the significance was not lost on her.
“Did your father bring your mother up here?” She asked quietly as they arrived to the stairs that curled up the large tower.
Nodding with a grin, “Yes, she was his rock. They were hardly apart, theirs was a love match as well.” Sliding the key into the solid oak door, he pushed it open, “Grab a candle off the wall Lis.” He requested as he held the door open for her.
Plucking the nearest large wax candle off the wall, she walked through the threshold as the hounds dashed upstairs without waiting for light.
With his arms full of food for them, he motioned for her to go ahead of him, “Go ahead love, light the torches along the way, they’ll be on your left side.”
Climbing the century old stone stairs, she lifted the candle high to illuminate her way, Broderick following closely behind her. She could feel his eyes on her; desire ripped through her as she swayed her hips a little bit more at she climbed the stairs.
Lighting the torches that lined the stairs, light slowly spread through the tower illuminating her way to the grand room.
Entering the dark room she couldn’t see far, from behind her Broderick swiped the candle out of her hand as he leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Ye make it hard for a man to want to have a conversation with a fine arse like that Elisabeth.” Walking past her he systematically lit the various candelabras around the two-story room.
As each flame was lit, the room came alive before her eyes. Standing still she watched Broderick walk around the vast space, the room was at the top of the tower, it was a completely open space. The high arched ceiling seemed to reach the sky; she had never seen anything like it. Windows lined the circular tower room, currently covered with skins to block out the bitter cold winter.
The high stonewalls were covered with beautiful tapestries, some centuries old. A large desk sat in the corner with a high-backed chair. Across the great room Elisabeth saw Broderick kneel before the massive hearth to start a fire. The room was awfully cold, crossing her arms and wrapping the sable fur snuggly around her shoulders she continued to look around the private room in awe.
Watching Broderick something caught her eye. The light
reflected off the wall across the room, gathering her full attention. Hanging in a beautiful display across the vast wall were hundreds of weapons. Sitting the bottle of mead on the table she walked towards the wall in awe, maces and swords, dirks and daggers, ancient weapons collected over hundreds of years were artfully hung on the wall. She had never seen anything to interesting and intriguing in her life. There were some weapons that dated back to ancient times.
Standing before the giant wall she cast her eyes over the selection before her, assorted on the wall in an inspiring arraignment, there were weapons she had never seen before, nor had any idea how they were used. Before her she spied a magnificent claymore with a jeweled hilt, reaching up to touch the intricately detailed sword she heard Broderick behind her.
“That was my great grandfather’s sword, all the weapons you see before you are a collection started hundreds of years ago by his grandfather, impressive isn’t it?” He asked as he stood up and joined her before the wall of deadly weapons. Retracting her hand from the claymore’s handle she heard him encourage her curiosity, “Go ahead Elisabeth, pick it up, tis a heavy beast and nearly as tall as you my love.” Giving her permission he nudged her shoulder playfully as he turned and walked over to retrieve the bottle of mead.
Reaching out she placed her hand on the elegant claymore and lifted it off the wall; the weight of the long sword was indeed substantial. Grasping the heavy sword with both of her hands she lifted it into the air as she eyed the beautiful blade. The quality of work was outstanding. With the fire now roaring and candles around the room, she was able to see the room in all its magnificence, lowering the blade she turned around to see Broderick opening the bottle of mead and taking a drink right from the bottle. Since she had been poisoned he demanded to taste everything before she did, shaking her head at his protectiveness, she couldn’t help but grin.
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