by Eliza Knight
“I am too,” Blair said.
The great keep door opened to a sunny morning, the air crisp and fresh with just enough of a bite to remind them that though flowers were starting to bloom, it was still possible to have one last winter storm. As they walked, several guards took up position around them at a distance that left them some privacy, but close enough to provide protection if needed.
With a baa of excitement, Blair’s sweet pet sheep came loping across the bailey to greet her, relieving one of the stable hands who’d been chasing her.
“Would ye like to come, Bluebell?”
Her lamb rubbed her head against Blair’s thigh, and she slid her fingers into the soft fleece of her back. Bluebell was a wee lamb about to go to slaughter for a mild deformity in one of her hind legs the year before. The Sutherlands were well known for their wool, and Blair’s father feared the lamb wouldn’t grow into a prized sheep.
When Blair realized the wee thing’s fate, she’d rushed into the barn, tucked her up in her cloak and whisked her up to her chamber to hide her. When her father realized what she’d done, there’d barely been an argument about keeping the wee creature. In fact, she wasn’t certain there’d been much arguing at all. Her father wanted her to be happy and was more than pleased to gift her with a pet.
She’d brought Bluebell to Ross, because she couldn’t bear the idea of being without her.
“She is adorable,” Cora murmured, rubbing her palm over the softness of Bluebell’s forehead.
“Aye, she is.”
They exited through the castle’s main gate, marking the first time Blair had left the walls of Ross Castle since the evening she’d snuck out with her cousins. Their footsteps clicked on the wooden planks as they crossed over the bridge that spanned the moat, and they fell into whispers as they transitioned to the fields where wild flowers grew in bright, unadulterated colors of red, yellow, orange, white, purple, pink and blue. It was truly striking, and it gave Blair hope she hadn’t felt a few moments before.
She dragged in a deep breath of the scents of flowers and sweet grass. With barely a cloud to mar the blue landscape of the sky, if it kept this way for tomorrow, they were in for perfect weather for the evening bonfire celebrations.
“Will you wake early with the maidens?”
Blair shook her head. She’d never participated in the morning rituals at Dunrobin Castle, and she did not plan to start now at Castle Ross. Just before dawn, the maidens would rise, and without dressing, they would run from the castle in just their night rails to this very field, and they would roll in the morning dew, scrubbing the moisture from the grass and flowers onto their faces. It was an odd ritual, to be sure, and there had to be a question of morality within it, but who was she to question a tradition, given its significance to her people?
Spring and all that it brought with it was a time of renewal, growth and fertility. The ritual, too, represented marriage matches that would be made, and hopefully, a blessing upon any maiden’s womb for her coming vows.
Luckily, Blair’s family knew her reservations and had never forced her to participate. And thank goodness. It was practically hedonistic the way the water soaked into the thin fabric of the night rails, clinging to the lassies’ skin and giving the lads who stared a glimpse of their flesh beneath. No doubt, Aurora would wear her thinnest night rail for the ritual…
Nay, thank ye. I’m fine right where I am, bundled up. Unbidden, a shiver swept through her.
“Nay, ’tis not for me,” Blair finally said.
“Why not?” Cora asked, with a little teasing rub of her elbow on Blair’s ribs. “Have you a beau already?”
“Nay,” Blair rushed, her cheeks turning red, as they did whenever anyone teased her. She was far too sensitive. She knew this, but it mattered naught—she blushed anyway.
“Oh, I did not mean to upset you.”
Blair realized how tense she’d gotten and forced herself to relax, pushing out a small laugh. “Ye didna upset me, Cora.” She patted her sister-by-marriage’s hand. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head, pursed her lips into a frown. “I’ve never done it before, and…” She snuck a glance behind her at her cousins.
Cora saw the line of her vision turn. “Ah. You’re thinking the lads will be too occupied with the likes of them to pay you any attention?”
The heat in Blair’s cheeks deepened. “’Tis not like that.” She didn’t like how selfish that made her sound, even if it was true.
“They do not stand a chance beside you, Blair. You must understand that.”
Blair flashed her eyes toward Cora, her brow wrinkling. “What do you mean?” She was genuinely confused. Her cousins outshined her by far when it came to beauty. They were golden goddesses like her mother.
“You’re too modest. You’re gorgeous. And dark with an air of reserved mystery. The lads cannot take their eyes off you. Have you not noticed?”
Blair was stunned by this revelation, because she had indeed not noticed that at all. In fact, it seemed like every time she actually did pay attention, the lads were drooling over Aurora.
“When you decide you’re ready for a beau, mark my words, your Da and Ma will have to fight them off.”
Blair smiled at that, flattered and embarrassed all at once. “Ye’re too kind to me, Cora.”
“Not kind, just honest.” She stopped walking then, gazing at the various flowers swaying in the gentle morning breeze. “Shall we?”
“Aye.” Blair knelt in the field of flowers with the rest of the women, picking them down by the root so there was enough stem to weave together into a crown. She might have said she wasn’t going to participate in the maiden washing, but she still picked as many bluebells as she could find—giving up a few to her hungry lamb—and hoped they brought out the blue in her eyes.
“My laird!” Raibert rushed into the great hall where Edan was finishing up breaking his fast.
Raibert’s face was flushed with color, and his brows were drawn together with concern. He’d been out leading a patrol of their shores that morning, and given his state, it could only mean he had bad news.
“What is it?” Edan wiped the remnants of bread crumbs from his fingers and stood.
“Your housekeeper found this on the beach this morning when she and the kitchen maids were looking for mussels for supper. Ye must read it for yourself.”
Edan took the bottle from Raibert’s hand. Inside was a rolled parchment.
He narrowed his eyes, turned it over and tapped it onto his hand until the parchment came free. A message in a bottle? Was this some kind of bloody jest?
He unrolled the parchment that appeared to be fresh, not weathered and not wet. Someone had to have just dropped it on his shores, surely.
Inside, scrawled in beautiful feminine curls, was a message of only a few lines.
If ye’re reading this, then ye’ve received my urgent message. Come and save me from the chains that bind my soul… I fear without ye, I shall perish at the hands of a most unjust captor.
Fate has made ye my one and only knight.
Ye’ll find me at Castle Ross.
I am called Blair the Not So Fair, and it is almost spring.
Edan had to read the missive more than three times before he allowed himself to blink. What in the bloody hell was this?
“We must go to her,” Raibert said. “It is as the Ross warriors claimed. The Sutherland laird is not who ye thought he was.”
Edan shook his head. “This could have been written last spring. It could just be a childish prank. I canna take it seriously.”
Raibert frowned. “But, my laird, what if ’tis nay? The parchment is fresh, not from last year. And given what the prisoners said about Liam Sutherland, how can ye not at least look into it?”
Edan stared down at the scrawled hand, knowing Raibert spoke the truth. If the lady was being held captive, he could not leave her to languish after having found her message. The Ross men had warned him that Liam was greedy, but to keep a w
oman against her will? He couldn’t stand for that. If he didn’t at least go check on her to determine if this were a jest or not, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something were to happen to her.
When he’d questioned the Ross men before, once he’d withheld their food, one had broken down and said they’d lied, that for the love of a single woman they’d all made up the story about the Sutherlands, and he’d allowed them to live in chains, to eat. They were still below, as he’d gotten no new information. But perhaps the man had broken, and his confession of a lie was in itself a lie.
Ballocks! He’d gotten nowhere figuring out who was involved in his brother’s death. If anything, he’d be able to speak with Liam Sutherland and clear up the rumors that his prisoners below stairs had started.
“Gather the men. We’ll leave for Ross country within the hour.” He prayed that if the missive were in fact a true call for help, they weren’t too late, for spring was here, and spring had been near whenever the lass had written her missive.
But mostly, he hoped to shed light on whoever was responsible for his brother’s death. He’d been looking for proof of wrongdoing, to lay the blame at someone’s feet, and this mysterious bottle landing on his shores could possibly be the answer. But he didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Making assumptions was a good way to put his men, his clan, in danger. Though he was still new to being laird, he wasn’t completely naïve. He’d have to have a rock for a head to think that running off and accusing another laird of wrongdoing would get him anywhere.
How had the bottle gotten on the shores where the clanswomen had found it? Was it possible someone had planted the bottle there? Had it washed ashore? How very strange.
The hair on the back of his neck rose, and he stared down at his hand where he held the parchment, the lines curling into letters. Had someone here written it? Did they want him to go to war? Was it a test? A dare? An ambush from the inside?
When Raibert turned to leave, Edan called out, “Wait. First, gather the elders. I wish to speak to them in Connor’s—” He shook his head, still finding it hard to believe his brother was gone. “My study.”
“Aye, my laird.”
Moments later, half a dozen men filed into the study, nodding in his direction with clear respect. In the month since Edan had taken his position as laird, he’d often spoken to the elders. He tried to gather their opinions on things as mundane as which field to plant in, or whether or not they should continue their increase of border patrols on the Campbell border. Chief Campbell had written back to say he’d not condoned any reiving and had in fact dealt swiftly by sending the men who’d participated to the stocks. The elders knew best. After all, they’d been here at Kilravock aiding his brother and father before him, when Edan had not. To not take their advice and superior knowledge into consideration would be a mistake. It was the same for a warrior newly knighted. If he went off on his own rather than following the king’s directive or that of his captain, he would be a fool. Everyone could always improve themselves for the better by listening to those wiser. He hoped now to garner some information and advice on how to proceed with the missive and his suspicions regarding the new Laird of Ross, Liam Sutherland.
The problem Edan was that running a clan, seeing to their health, their bellies and all that was involved, was a lot different than simply being in charge of training men for war. He’d only been trained to prepare and lead men into battle and otherwise protecting a king.
With the men assembled and watching him expectantly, Edan leapt into his reasoning for their meeting. “I’ve asked ye here just now because something disturbing has showed up on our shores. Could be a hoax, a trap or a true call for help. It implicates Liam Sutherland once more in a dangerous scheme, and given he was already accused previously of being the man responsible for Connor’s death, I canna let this summons go unanswered.”
The men issued sounds of interest, but they allowed him to continue.
Edan held out the missive and read the contents aloud to the men. “My gut, as a protector, says we should save her, despite my misgivings about a possible hoax or trap. If we do nothing, and this poor lass perishes, the blame could be laid at our feet. I know my brother was more practical than I, and that because of his trust in ye, the clan was able to thrive. I feel we canna allow two such rumors to go unquestioned. I will have to go to Castle Ross.”
Their grumblings grew louder, laced with affirmations in Edan’s favor and anger that Liam Sutherland was once more being accused of something nefarious. Edan could allow one accusation to be brushed off, but two?
“I want to take a contingent of men to Ross country to confront Liam Sutherland. To demand access to Lady Blair to be certain she exists and is safe, and to demand he speak to me about his involvement, if any, in my brother’s death. If I should determine he is responsible, I will demand he surrender himself to me.”
“He will not surrender to ye,” Murtagh said with a shake of his head. “Liam Sutherland is too proud. He’s the son of the one of the most revered men in Scotland. He himself is a legend. He will fight ye.”
Edan nodded, his lips thinned. “Aye, then so be it. If it comes to that, I will accept.”
“With all due respect, my laird, but we have only just lost one laird—”
“Ye’re suggesting I would lose,” Edan cut Murtagh off. “Dinna let it come off your tongue so easily.” His voice had held a note of sarcasm, but it was replaced with conviction when he continued. “I am honor bound to challenge the man who killed my brother.”
The men nodded solemnly, knowing that to argue would be futile. “And the lass?”
“If we should find he is indeed holding her captive, I will return her to her family.”
“Ye know a laird’s duty is to marry.”
Edan scowled. “Are ye truly suggesting that I would take a woman who’d been held captive and demand she marry me, rather than setting her free?”
Murtagh looked sufficiently cowed. “I’d not thought of it that way, my laird. Only thought for ye to capitalize on it.”
“I’ll marry when I choose, and it will be for the benefit of the clan and my bride.” The last thing he wanted to do was get into an argument with the men about when, and whom, he should marry. They’d dropped enough hints over the last month about his duty to wed, and at every chance he got, Edan brushed them off. His life had already changed immeasurably, and he was not yet accustomed to where he was. “For today, I’m asking for your support, your guidance. Will ye give it to me?”
Murtagh glanced at the other men gathered. “We will support ye, aye. But ye’d best come back alive, laird. Your people need ye.”
Edan nodded. He’d not been fighting his way to the top in the king’s army for naught. Liam had a reputation as being the best knight in all of Scotland, but that wasn’t a position he would hold for long. Edan was ripe to take that mantle.
“I’m going with ye, laird,” Murtagh said.
“I’d be honored. Those of ye that remain, know that I am entrusting our clan, and my brother’s legacy, in your hands while I’m away. There is still a chance that this message in a bottle was a trap meant to entice me away. Should that be the case, we’ll need the proper precautions in place.”
“Aye, laird. We’ll have a messenger at the ready to bolt and find ye upon the road should we come under attack. The gates will be closed, and we’ll double the guards on the wall.”
“Good. Now, I’ve another question. Have any of ye heard whisper of a lass being taken? A family missing their daughter? Word travels fast within the clans. And I’m surprised we didna know of it before now.”
The men mumbled nay, shaking their heads and turning from one to another. “Could be she’s a Lowlander,” Leith said with a shrug.
“Aye. Or her family didna want her,” Murtagh added. “Maybe she was given to him as his leman.”
Given to him as a mistress…like a piece of property. Edan found it hard to hold in his disgust at that no
tion.
“There is something else to consider,” Leith mentioned. “The Earl of Sutherland will most likely side with his son. He’s a formidable foe, as is the Laird of Dornoch, Liam’s brother. If ye present too much of a threat upon your approach, ye may have more to contend with than simply facing Liam himself.”
“Not to mention every other uncle, brother, or cousin of his,” Edan added with a frown. “The bloody bastards control more than half the Highlands at this point.”
“Which lends credence to what the Ross prisoner said about Liam wanting to gain control of the firth. More lands for their family.”
Edan had never been close with Liam at Stirling. They’d never been given the chance. They’d fought in different regiments, were in charge of different men and sent on different missions. And even when they were both centered around the king’s camp, whether in the field or at a castle, men tended to stick to their units. So while he’d heard of the man, he’d not interacted with him very much.
“A boon, my laird?” Raibert asked.
“Aye?”
“When we approach the gates, let us first negotiate.”
“Of course. It never bodes well to prod a cornered bear. However, should we find that our suspicions are true, I can promise the likelihood that blood will be shed. And I dinna mean my own.”
“We trust ye, and we’ll support your decision.”
Edan felt his chest swell with pride. He was starting to feel more like a laird and less like an imposter. Once he’d avenged his brother, he wouldn’t have that nagging feeling he was not worthy of the respect of his clan. He would truly be their leader.
Connor deserved to be at peace in the afterlife, and every one of the Rose clansmen and women deserved the same in the here and now.
Chapter 5
Blair stretched awake before dawn, surprised at the energy flowing through her limbs. She’d not expected to feel this way. So alive, and…excited.
