There had been a girlish excitement about her, not at all like the formal stiffness of Lara. The thought of his first wife brought an uncomfortable tightness to his chest.
Why then was he so opposed to signing the damn betrothal contract?
Ewan set the quill aside.
“Ach, that’s what I thought.” Monroe’s dark brows twitched. “There may be another option.”
“I canna remain unwed,” Ewan grumbled bitterly.
He didn’t want a wife. But he needed an heir. And alas, one could not come without the other. Or at least, not a legitimate heir. And he wouldn’t complicate a lad’s life with having him be born a bastard.
“I dinna mean ye should remain unwed.” Monroe smoothed a hand over the heavy wooden chair arm and scanned the capacious solar as though seeking to ensure their privacy, despite their being alone. “Though yer uncle remains curiously quiet over the matter.”
“Curious,” Ewan repeated bitterly. “I dinna expect him to support a union where an heir might prevent him from inheriting the title of chieftain should I die. We all know he’s been eyeing it since my da passed.”
Ewan rubbed at a knot of tension at the back of his neck. Having his uncle in his close council allowed Ewan to maintain a watchful eye on him, but it didn’t mean the task was easy or pleasant.
Ewan’s cousin, Moiré, kept abreast of her father’s activities to ensure they were not nefarious. She had come to be something like a sister to him. Without any sisters of his own and with his elder brother having passed years ago, Ewan found himself often seeking her counsel and relying upon her for duties in the castle after Lara’s death.
“Ye received a missive from the Chieftain of the Ross clan.” Monroe withdrew a folded bit of parchment from the pocket of his doublet. “It arrived by messenger moments ago. The lad informed me it had something to do with yer betrothal.”
“My betrothal?” Ewan took the letter, cracked the thick seal depicting a hand holding a laurel wreath and unfolded it to read the contents within.
Once done, he lowered the parchment to the top of his desk in wonder. “Faye Fletcher.”
“I’d nearly forgotten about her,” Monroe confessed.
“As had I.” Ewan pushed up from his hard, wooden seat and approached the fireplace where the flames licked over dry tinder. “But it was never signed by her mother. ‘Tis no’ binding.”
He hadn’t seen Faye since they were children—when she’d left after a visit from England and had never returned. It was why she’d slipped from his thoughts for so long.
Faye Fletcher had been a quiet, sweet girl who had always seemed so delicate with her slim frame and pale blonde hair and blue eyes. She’d be a biddable lass; that’s what his da had said of her. Granddaughter to the Ross Chieftain, she and Ewan would bring peace to their clans. Their union was made to melt the hatred of the last two centuries and unite the clans as one.
Ewan recalled his hope at such an idea. But he was no longer a lad swayed by fanciful notions. He was a man who led other men. His decisions dictated who lived and who died.
“What does her dowry offer?” Monroe asked.
Ewan folded his arms over his chest. “A considerable amount of coin, more so than what the Gordon lass brings, as well as lands to the west of us and…peace.” He sniffed at the ridiculousness of the latter.
Unfortunately, the offer was a tempting one. The lands to the west were rich and ideal for raising sheep. With the cost of wool rising, it would be an ideal opportunity to amass wealth. As of late, the constant battles between clans had been expensive.
A marriage to Mistress Faye Fletcher would resolve both issues, as well as hopefully provide him with an heir.
Monroe turned in his chair to face Ewan so that his dark, smooth hair gleamed in the firelight. “How much land does the Ross lass bring?”
“A considerable amount.” Ewan returned to his desk and regarded the letter once more. “More than they’ll get from Berwick. I dinna know why they’ve wanted that land for so long.” Berwick was over a fortnight’s journey away and overrun with reivers and thieves. The Sutherland clan hadn’t bothered to maintain any sense of order there. Such a feat was near impossible.
“Ross insists that I consider the betrothal and meet with him next month to discuss its renewal.” Sutherland glanced at the agreement beside the letter, the one that would seal him to Mistress Blair Gordon.
The girl Faye had been rose in his thoughts. What kind of a woman would she be now? Had her skinny body blossomed out to be more robust? Had her white-blonde hair stayed fair or turned the color of wheat?
“What will ye do?” Monroe asked.
Ewan’s chest constricted at the thought of marrying again. Lara had been a good wife to him. She had not bickered or complained, nor had she desperately clung to him as some men’s wives did. She had performed her duties at the castle promptly and in good order. Aye, she had not given him a bairn in their three years together, but she had tried.
It had been almost two years since her death and Ewan was not getting any younger. He required a wife and a son and had two contracts lying at his fingertips. He heaved a sigh that sent the parchments shifting over the desk.
“Aye,” he said at last, his mind finally made up. “I’ll meet with Ross to discuss the possibility of marriage to Mistress Faye Fletcher.”
One-click FAYE’S SACRIFICE
Author’s Note
Writing about the 12th century was an unfamiliar era for me as I generally write from the 14th century on. It doesn’t seem like 200 years could really make that big of a difference, but it certainly did! As with all my books, I dug into the research and found some interesting facts I, of course, must share!
First of all, believe me when I say that the stirrups and high-backed seat of a saddle were huge inventions of this time. Before these items came about, riders couldn’t safely go to battle on horseback as a single blow (delivered or received) would knock them easily from their horse. The stirrups and high-backed saddle allowed a warrior to brace themselves on their steeds and charge into battle without the danger of being unseated. Before those items came about, knights would ride to the location of battle, dismount and tether their horses, then fight on foot. Sure brings a different image to a knight when he’s not on his horse in combat, doesn’t it?
Jousting tournaments were pretty dangerous, but early medieval ones were especially so. We touch on some items in our stories in this series, like how death is possible regardless of how safe things are intended to be. But death was very possible, not just by the nobles who were engaged in the tournament, but for the peasants as well.
It wasn’t uncommon for the lines of the melee to flex out and ultimately include villager’s homes. During this time, knights were determined to capture one another at any cost. They were also willing to avoid capture at any cost. This meant villager’s homes became battle grounds. Yeah, it’s as bad as it sounds Sometimes peasants were accidental casualties of these mock battles and other times their homes could be burned down and they would be left with nothing. Of course, we refrained from mentioning this in our books as all of our knights were respectful of the peasants and all around good people. Bravo to our heroes and heroines!
But jousting had its dangers as well. Weapons were not blunted in the time period we wrote in (we used creative liberty to blunt them for our stories), which meant a higher likelihood of death or critical maiming in combat. Additionally, there was not a ‘tilt’ which is the barrier running between the jousters to separate them. Without it, jousters would sometimes collide head on – with fatal results.
Before this project, I never appreciated the dangers truly faced by these men who jousted and participated in tournaments. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about it as I did truly had a wonderful time unearthing it all and hope you are enjoying this series as well! Thank you SO much for reading!
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my amazing beta readers who helped make thi
s story so much more with their wonderful suggestions: Tracy Emro and Lorrie Cline. You ladies are so amazing and make my books just shine!
Thank you to Janet Kazmirski for the final read-through you always do for me and for catching all the little last minute tweaks.
Thank you to John and my wonderful minions for all the support they give me.
And a huge thank you so much to my readers for always being so fantastically supportive and eager for my next book.
About the Author
Madeline Martin is a USA TODAY Bestselling author of Scottish set historical romance novels filled with twists and turns, adventure, steamy romance, empowered heroines and the men who are strong enough to love them.
She lives a glitter-filled life in Jacksonville, Florida with her two daughters (known collectively as the minions) and a man so wonderful he's been dubbed Mr. Awesome. She loves Disney, Nutella, cat videos and goats dressed up in pajamas. She also loves to travel and attributes her love of history to having spent most of her childhood as an Army brat in Germany.
Find out more about Madeline at her website:
http://www.madelinemartin.com
Also by Madeline Martin
Borderland Ladies
Ena’s Surrender
Marin’s Promise
Anice’s Bargain
Ella’s Desire
Catriona’s Secret
Leila’s Legacy
Borderland Rebels
Faye’s Sacrifice
Kinsey’s Defiance
Clara’s Vow
Drake’s Honor
Harlequin Historicals
How to Tempt a Duke
How to Start a Scandal
Regency Novellas
Earl of Benton
Earl of Oakhurst
Mesmerizing the Marquis
Medieval Novellas
The Highlander’s Challenge
The Highlander’s Lady Knight
Highland Passions
A Ghostly Tale of Forbidden Love
The Madam’s Highlander
The Highlander’s Untamed Lady
Her Highland Destiny
Highland Passions Box Set Volume 1
Heart of the Highlands
Deception of a Highlander
Possession of a Highlander
Enchantment of a Highlander
The Mercenary Maidens
Highland Spy
Highland Ruse
Highland Wrath
The Highlander's Lady Knight (Midsummer Knights Book 2) Page 16