Drake's Honor

by Madeline Martin

  “She is bonny,” said Faye, the eldest of the three sisters, as she bounced a chubby babe on her hip. “Though I’m sure ye’re especially partial to her auburn hair.” She gently tweaked one of Kinsey’s bright red curls and grinned at her.

  “I’m Clara.” Drake’s middle sister stepped forward and warmly embraced his wife. The action was somewhat awkward because of her belly, now large and round with a bairn they were soon expecting. “Ye must be Greer. We’ve heard such wonderful things about ye in Drake’s missives.”

  A flush colored Greer’s cheeks. “I’m sure, from a man with a biased opinion.” She laughed and glanced at Drake.

  His heart missed the next beat, the same as it always did when their eyes connected, and their souls brushed in those moments. God, how he loved his wife, and how proud he was for his sisters to finally meet her.

  “This is Faye and her husband Ewan,” Clara said.

  Ewan appeared beside Faye and lifted wee Callum from her arms, earning him an endearing kiss.

  “Then Kinsey and her husband Sir William,” Clara continued, indicating where the two stood side by side, their fingers entwined.

  “And this is my husband, Reid.” Clara waved a hand to her husband, who joined her, wrapping his arms around her, and resting his hands protectively over her round belly.

  “And this is Elspeth or Kieran,” Reid added, indicating her swollen abdomen.

  Everyone gave a little laugh as the remainder of the introductions went around, first to Mac and then to Bean as Drake’s new squire, but as they got to Duncan, two more figures filled the entrance of the castle and came out into the courtyard.

  Drake’s mother and his grandda, the cantankerous Chieftain of the Ross clan. Whatever Ross was saying to Mum had put a slight frown on her face.

  “And this is…” Drake said, trying to gain his mother’s attention.

  Indeed, he had it in a fraction of a moment. Mum stopped abruptly, and her hand flew to the base of the throat. “Duncan.”

  Duncan MacKenzie stepped forward, his eyes burning with emotion. “Cait.”

  “I thought ye were dead.” Mum turned to Drake’s grandda. “I thought ye had him killed.”

  Ross scoffed. “Even I need a better reason than that to kill someone. I had them beat his arse and told him he’d give ye nothing but a lifetime of misery with the constant war between our people. I dinna want ye to have a life where ye always felt as though ye were hiding.”

  “I knew he was right, and dinna want to ruin yer life,” Duncan stepped forward.

  “Ye wouldna have.” Mum’s eyes filled with tears. “I wanted to be with ye no matter what that meant.”

  “I was only trying to protect ye, Cait,” Ross said gently.

  She glared at her father and went to Duncan. “Welcome to Dunscaith Castle. I implore ye to stay as long as ye like. And yer wife…” Her gaze discreetly moved over the courtyard.

  “My mum died when I was born,” Bean offered. “I’m his son, Beathan.”

  “Beathan, well met.” Mum’s smile grew a little wider, and she turned to Greer. “Ach, and ye must be Greer. Ye’ve got the face of an angel, lass.” She embraced Drake’s wife and grinned in his direction, a clear sign she already loved her new daughter-in-law.

  Once Drake and Greer were settled in their rooms in the castle, they had horses readied to ride out to their manor. Mum was still in the courtyard, locked in deep conversation with Duncan, the rose brooch that had been so significant all those years ago pinned to her bodice. With the MacKenzies and the Rosses at peace with one another finally, no one opposed or begrudged their quiet reunion.

  Drake and Greer did not disturb the two as they mounted their horses and left Dunscaith Castle for the stone manor that sat on its outskirts. The structure was a tower house atop a craggy ridge. The home rose three stories and required a drawbridge to enter it over a deep ravine. It was a house that would promise safety.

  There were only a few guards on hand, one of which lowered the drawbridge and bade them welcome.

  “’Tis lovely,” Greer breathed, looking up at the side of the keep with its many sea-facing windows.

  “Would ye like to go inside?” Drake drew her toward him and pressed a kiss to her silky auburn hair.

  “Aye,” she said, still craning her neck in awe.

  The guard rushed to open the door for them. The creak echoed through the empty entryway, as did the thunderous boom of it closing as he left them alone to explore.

  “Once it’s filled with furnishings, it willna echo so much,” Drake said.

  “It’s more than I ever dreamed I would live in.” She curled her arm around him. “With a man that I dinna ever dare to imagine existed.”

  He stroked his hand down her cheek. “I waited for ye for a long time, lass.”

  “And thanks be to God for it.” She kissed him.

  But before they could lose themselves in one another, he brought her through the home to explore. First to their own Great Hall, which was large enough to host at least fifty people, then to the chamber where they would sleep together.

  “And where does this lead?” She asked about the stairs going up from their bedchamber.

  “Let’s find out.” He guided her up the curling stone staircase, his hand at the slight dip of her lower back where he loved to trace delicately upward and watch her shiver in delight.

  The stairs ended in a small room with a cradle set in one corner.

  “A nursery,” Drake said proudly. “Close enough to where we are to keep an eye on the bairn.”

  “And a good thing too.” Greer slid a sly grin up at him. “Remember how ye worried we might have conceived the night we lay together?”

  Drake’s heartbeat kicked faster in his chest. “Aye?”

  “I missed my courses.” Greer’s eyes danced with delight. “’Tis been over a fortnight, but I dinna want to say until I thought I could be certain.”

  “Ye’re with child?” he asked, incredulous at his good fortune.

  She laughed and nodded. He pulled her into his arms and spun her about.

  His had not been an easy life, but he would endure it all again for even a taste of what he now had. The knighthood he had always wanted, the woman he had never thought existed, and the brilliantly happy future he never dreamed would belong to him.

  A tear slipped down Greer’s cheek.

  He wiped it away, concerned suddenly. “What is it, my love?”

  She shook her head, smiling. “I’m so verra happy, Drake.”

  He pulled her into his arms, breathing in her light floral scent, relishing the joy of his incredible life. “So am I, my wife. So am I.”

  Epilogue

  August 1344

  Isle of Skye

  * * *

  Dunscaith Castle was filled to the brim with people and bustling with activity. Of course, it wasn’t every day a wedding took place. Especially not one that had taken decades to finally happen.

  Drake guided Greer inside the keep while Mac and Bean secured the horses in the stable and ran off some energy before having to sit on the hardback pews for the ceremony.

  Kinsey rushed by and thrust something into Drake’s hands. “Bring this to Mum.” Without so much as a greeting, she waddled off toward the kitchens, cradling the bump of her burgeoning belly.

  He looked down at the small rose brooch in his hand, the one that had been the symbol of the love between his mother and Duncan for so long.

  “We knew it would be madness.” Greer grinned at Drake and propped their son, Malcolm, onto her hip. The lad squirmed about, eager to run about but not yet skilled enough to do so effectively without eventually getting hurt.

  “Down,” he pleaded.

  “Greer?” Faye called out from somewhere unseen. “I need ye in here.”

  Greer lifted her brows in amusement.

  “I’ll take him to see his grandmum.” Drake pulled their son from Greer’s arms, where he proceeded to wriggle with ceaseless energ
y in Drake’s firm grasp.

  “Best of luck to ye.” Greer kissed Malcolm’s chubby cheek, then looked to Drake. Her green eyes searched his for a brief moment in that soul-catching way she had. “I love ye, Drake Fletcher. I’ll see ye at the chapel.”

  He kissed her, still relishing the softness of her sweet lips on his after two years of being wed, and off she went toward a fresh cry of panic from Faye.

  Laughing, Drake set Malcolm to his feet and held the lad’s chubby hand as the bairn toddled at a snail’s pace toward Mum’s chamber. When they arrived, she answered the door in a blue silk gown that made her eyes look as blue as the deepest ocean. She gave a giddy laugh when she saw Malcolm and lifted him into her arms, much to the lad’s delight, for he gave a great squeal and clapped his hands.

  “Kinsey thought ye might need this.” Drake handed her the brooch.

  She propped Malcolm on her hip and took the brooch. “Ach, how could I have forgotten?”

  “’Tis a bit mad here today.” Drake made a face, and his mother laughed.

  She studied him with a peculiar smile on her face. “Ye’re no’ as tense as ye always used to be, do ye know that?”

  He tilted his head.

  His mother smiled. “Yer Greer is good for ye. Ye’ve spent too long being so serious, walking through life in a rigid line. She’s shown ye how to venture off the path, and ye’re a better man for it.”

  Malcolm reached for the brooch, but she pulled it away. “And ye make fine babies.” She laughed and handed the bairn back to Drake.

  It was true what she said. Drake still upheld his intention to be an honorable knight, but he did not fall back on the same pedantic stoicism as he had before. Life was more enjoyable, lighthearted, and fun. And he knew Greer and her antics had everything to do with it. That and Malcolm’s endless energy and the kind, playful way Mac always handled the wee lad.

  “I thought there was to be a wedding?” boomed a voice from below.

  Mum chuckled. “It would appear yer grandda has arrived.”

  In the last two years, much had changed as Faye continued to visit with Ewan and their son, Callum, and Clara and Reid’s daughter, Elspeth, was born. The Chieftain of the Ross clan came to Dunscaith more often, with gifts and smiles that became less rare as his great-grandchildren warmed the chill of his icy heart.

  And in that time, so too did Drake’s mother soften toward her father, seeing that he truly had meant to protect her in the best way he knew how. Especially when she realized that in trying to protect her own children from him, she had made their life harder than was necessary. It was an understanding that left her bereft for some time but eventually helped facilitate the renewed love for her once-estranged father.

  “I think that means we are late.” Drake shifted Malcolm into his arms to kiss his dark, glossy hair. “Let’s go find yer mum, aye?”

  “Mum,” his son exclaimed, his eyes alight with eager anticipation.

  As suspected, the chaos of the castle had gone still as everyone piled into the small chapel. It was crowded within, the pews filled with families that were healthy, happy, and safe.

  Clara and Reid were in one row with Elspeth settled between them. The lass’s hair was auburn like her da’s, and the lass had the same gentle, patient spirit as her mum.

  Faye and Ewan were in another row, his arm around her shoulders as wee Callum kicked his feet out from the bench repeatedly until Ewan put a hand to the lad’s head, stilling the motion.

  In yet another pew were Kinsey and William, their hands together resting on the bump of her belly where their first child grew.

  Greer sat on another bench with Bean and Mac beside her, both lads grinning in anticipation of the day Bean’s da would wed Mac’s adopted grandmum, strange though it might sound when the couple was nearly the same age. Drake approached his family’s pew, and Greer reached up for Malcolm, who nestled into her arms and rubbed at his eyes.

  Drake sank onto the seat beside his wife and put his arm around her so she could lean against him as she cradled the weight of their groggy son. She smiled up at him, love shining in her eyes.

  “Ye make me so verra happy,” he whispered to her.

  “We are so verra happy,” she said in agreement and nuzzled closer so he could smell the sweet perfume of her hair.

  The doors to the chapel opened, and Mum appeared, her eyes alight with excitement as Duncan turned where he stood at the altar and broke into a wide smile. Finally, their love would result in the union that should have been nearly three decades ago.

  Drake’s da was a good man who had cared for them all, and truly Mum had loved him. She’d told Drake she was grateful to have met and wed her first husband, to have the children she had. Their family was one Mum wouldn’t change for the world.

  Aye, it was a struggle sometimes, but in the end, it had all worked out with Mum and Duncan rediscovering their love, with all of Drake’s sisters married to men who treated them with respect and adoration, with a knighthood Drake had never thought attainable.

  And with a beautiful wife that kept his life interesting in the best possible ways.

  Indeed, their lives had flourished in these years, and it warmed his heart to know that all were so content. For truly, life had a fascinating way of working out. And there was nothing better in life than finding happiness in love.

  Thank you for reading DRAKE’S HONOR! I read all of my reviews and would love to know that you enjoyed it, so please do leave a review.

  * * *

  Drake’s siblings all have their own stories too:

  Faye in Faye’s Sacrifice

  Kinsey in Kinsey’s Defiance

  Clara in Clara’s Vow

  You can also find Anice’s story, book 2 of my Borderland Ladies here in Anice’s Bargain

  If you want more stories that take place on the border between England and Scotland (and get even more Drake!), check out my Borderland Ladies series, starting with Marin’s Promise

  * * *

  This officially concludes my Borderland Ladies and Borderland Rebels series, though I have many more historical romance (as well as historical fiction) you can check out - please go to http://www.madelinemartin.com for more.

  * * *

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  Author’s Note

  Laundry is a deplorable task in the 21st century, but even more so in the 1300s! Generally most people washed their clothes about once a month due to how time consuming it was, or they could hire someone like Greer who would take in laundry to wash for other people.

  * * *

  The edges of the lochs were the best place for washing with having water constantly available as much was needed when it came to scrubbing soiled garments. The main method of cleaning was using lye, though eventually something called soapwort was used as well. Soapwort was a plant that exuded a soap-like consistency that was perfect for cleaning and being gentle on clothing, although it wasn’t hugely popular until the 16th century. The construction of lye soap was a little gross – it was water run through with ashes and made into soap using animal fat. It wasn’t uncommon for urine to be added as well as a whitening agent (which, yes, actually worked). This was not a bar of soap as you would use today, but a soft, runny texture.

  * * *

  Not all garments could be easily washed, however. Fine cloth had to generally only be soaked in warm, scented water occasionally, but generally after each wear, the gown was brushed clean of debris. This was why wearing linens was so popular as the linens could be washed often and often protected the garment from body oils/smells, etc.

  * * *

  The job of a laundress was not easy and required a considerable amount of strength not only to haul the buckets and baskets of laundry, but also using a bat-like thing or a paddle to beat the clothing or even a scrubbing board to ensure all stains were removed after a goo
d lye-soaking.

  * * *

  So, the next time you bemoan having to do a few loads of laundry, just remember how much worse it really could be. I know I’m a lot more grateful for my washer and dryer after all this research!

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my amazing beta readers who helped make this story so much more with their wonderful suggestions: Tracy Emro and Tina Ullrich. You ladies are so amazing and make my books just shine!

  Thank you to Erica Monroe with Quillfire Author Services for the consistently amazing edits.

  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 to Ink for sitting in my lap and keeping me on task (mostly).

  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 New York Times and International Bestselling author of historical fiction and historical romance.

  * * *

  She lives in sunny Florida with her two daughters (known collectively as the minions), one incredibly spoiled cat and a man so wonderful he's been dubbed Mr. Awesome. She is a die-hard history lover who will happily lose herself in research any day. When she's not writing, researching or 'moming', you can find her spending time with her family at Disney or sneaking a couple spoonfuls of Nutella while laughing over cat videos. She also loves to travel, attributing her fascination with history to having spent most of her childhood as an Army brat in Germany.