by Fiona Faris
“Ye may nae ken who ye are, but there are some things in life that ne’er change. Ye are a lass tae be sure.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Leave it tae a lass tae fash about her dress, e’en when she does nae ken who she is or where she came from.”
Elizabeth fought the urge to smack him. “Would you prefer that I attend in Agnes’ nightdress?”
“Nae, I dinnae wish such a thing as I wouldnae care tae kill any o’ me own men in an effort tae protect yer honor. I will arrange a dress for ye from me maither’s auld things. I am sure there is something in one o’ her chests that would fit ye.”
“I thank you for your kindness.” Elizabeth noted the sad tone of his voice as he spoke of his mother. “How long has it been since she passed?”
“A verra long time,” he whispered, his jaw muscles clenched in an effort to subdue his internal struggle.
“I am honored that you would allow me the use of her things.” Elizabeth’s heart went out to him and the little boy that he had once been. She could just picture him standing over the grave of his dearly departed mother, so young, sad, and alone.
“It is I who will be honored tae have ye at me side durin’ the gatherin’. I am tae choose a bride from amongst me people and will need the support o’ a good woman tae get through it. Yer advice on the inner workings o’ the minds o’ lassies will be invaluable.”
“I do not know that I will be of much aid in such matters, but I shall strive to do my best and offer you my honest opinion.” Elizabeth’s heart constricted at his admittance of his search for a bride. She barely knew the man, and yet somehow, the idea of him wedding another woman bothered her. From everything that she had witnessed thus far in his behavior towards her, Elizabeth felt that he would make some fortunate Scottish lass a very good husband.
“That is all that I ask o’ ye, Sassenach - honesty.”
“Then you shall have it,” she promised, her heart suddenly saddened as if she had lost something precious in the span of a moment.
James smiled up at her. “I thank ye, me lady.”
She attempted a smile back, but she knew it did not reach her eyes. “Not at all, my lord,” she murmured disheartened. Why she felt so strongly about the matter, she did not know; but she could not seem to help it. He had had a strong impact on her in the short time that they had known each other. His gentle kindness had been her undoing. Though she knew it was not wise to allow a stranger to hold such sway over her emotions, she could no sooner have changed how she felt about him than she could conjure up every missing memory of her past. “What will be expected of me at this gathering?” she inquired cautiously.
“Ye are expected tae do nae more than to sit at me side as me guest. All in attendance are aware o’ yer circumstances and will nae do aught tae bother ye.”
Elizabeth sat silently for a moment staring out at the distant horizon, marveling at all that had transpired to bring her to where she now sat. “Our people are enemies, and yet you took me in without hesitation.”
“Aye,” James nodded. “’Tis what we do here in the islands and highlands o’ Scotland. Hospitality is a law tae itself. ‘Tis a matter o’ survival and pride.”
“Even when the enemy washes ashore?”
“E’en then.” James smiled at her incredulous tone.
“How can you do it? Samuel told me what my people did to Agnes. How can you welcome someone such as that into your home?”
“Ye were nae the one tae do it.” James stated the fact as if it were as simple as the words that fell from his lips. “Ye have nae control o’er the actions o’ yer countrymen. Agnes kens that well enough.”
“It could not have been easy for her to care for an Englishwoman as she has cared for me. She is a better woman than I to be able to do such a thing.”
“I believe that ye would have done the same. It is within yer nature tae care for others, e’en when ye dinnae ken who they might be. I have seen ye mourn for the loss o’ such in the brief time that ye have been on our shores. Ye may be an English noble lady by birth, but I have seen yer heart in yer eyes, lass, and it has a touch o’ the Scot.” Surprised, Elizabeth studied James’ face and found nothing but sincerity in his words. A tear slipped down her cheek, and he reached out caressing it away. “Dinnae fash, lass. We will find a way tae return ye tae yer people, but until that time, we will be yer people.”
“Truly?” she asked in disbelief.
“Truly.”
Chapter Nine
The day for the oath-taking arrived. The castle was a bustle of activity as the clan had begun assembling the day before. James and William had made the rounds, greeting all those who arrived. Thus far he had been met with nothing but respect and, in some cases, exuberant joy. He had not found a duplicitous feeling among them, but such a thing was not always obvious; otherwise so many traitorous men throughout history would never have succeeded in accomplishing their nefarious deeds. The oath-taking was to be held in the evening after everyone had arrived and had a chance to prepare themselves for the festivities.
It was the laird’s right to call an oath-taking whenever he wished. The last oath-taking James had witnessed had been when he was but a lad. Everyone was excited to be together and to swear their allegiance to the new laird. Over the year since his father’s death, James had proven himself to be a worthy leader, making the occasion all the more festive for those in attendance. “Are ye ready for what must be done?” William asked while standing at his side, surveying the crowd.
“Aye,” James nodded.
“Ye ken what I will do when we discover who the blackmailers are?”
“Aye, I ken it well, but hear me now, William. If there is any other way tae mend this rift, tae make them see reason, we must take it. I dinnae condone murder for murder’s sake. I wouldnae consider it now but for the lives that would be taken otherwise.”
“Ye leave it tae me, as yer Keeper.”
“Nae, if there is killin’ tae be done in me name, then I will be the one tae do it.”
William nodded his head slowly. “As ye wish.”
They stood staring out at the people milling about, assessing their behavior and interactions with one another, attempting to gauge who might be a threat. Other than the usual fighting that always occurred during any gathering of Scots, all appeared happy to be present.
“Inviting the Sassenach lass is certain tae cause trouble,” William noted. “If there is anyone among our own clansmen who does nae believe ye tae be the rightful laird, having a Sassenach attend the oath takin’ is sure tae make them reveal themselves, along with a few others of like mind.”
“I dinnae like using her thus.”
“There is nae other way for it. Ye must save yer own people from the destruction o’ war, and the lass will nae be harmed in any way. As ye have said, it may aid her in recoverin’ her memory, as well, tae be with others.”
“Aye, and I meant what I said tae her. Until we find her people, we are all that she has in this world.”
“A sorry state tae be sure. The sooner she is off o’ our island the better.” William nodded sadly. “I have doubled the guard tae ensure that nae English cuddies will gain entry without our kennin’ it. All will be safe within the castle walls this night.”
James nodded his head. “Dinnae let anythin’ befall that lass in any way. If she were to be harmed under our care…” he did not finish the thought. He didn’t need to.
William nodded. “Samuel has sworn tae see her safely tae the castle. She appears tae have recovered sufficiently to walk on her own.”
“Yes. When last we spoke, she appeared tae be on the mend physically, her mind, however, was still quite addled.” James had not made time to return to the croft since he had extended his invitation to her for the gathering. He had been growing too attached to her, and his guilty conscience over the plan to use her to draw out his enemies had been sufficient to keep him away. Now the time had come, and Elizabeth would be ar
riving to stay at the castle at any moment. He had arranged for one of his mother’s old dresses to be taken to her by one of the maids who turned a good hand with a needle. He hoped that it would be enough for her not to be embarrassed.
“Yes, Samuel said that she has nae been able tae remember anythin’ else since ye last spoke.” William studied James’ face with concern.
“I ken what ye are thinkin’, that I care for the lass, but dinnae fash. I will nae let it come tae anythin’.”
“Aye, I ken that ye wouldnae do so willingly; but I also ken that we dinnae always have a choice when it comes tae matters o’ the heart.”
James chuckled. “And what do ye ken o’ the heart, William? Is it nae more a matter o’ yer tauger that ye be kennin’ better with a lass in nearly every croft,” he jested, but only in part.
“Aye,” William smiled. “’Tis true, but I loved a lass once, long ago.”
James looked at him in surprise. He had never once heard William speak of such things. He had heard of his many exploits, but never once of love. “Loved? Where is the lass now?”
“She is dead.” The sorrow that etched William’s features was heartbreaking to behold.
“I am sorry, William.” He laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder in comfort. “Who was she?”
William hesitated before answering as if he was not sure whether he should reveal his lost love. “’Twas long before ye were e’er born.”
James frowned wondering why he was being so reserved on the subject after all of the other stories that they had shared together. “If ye dinnae wish tae tell me, I will nae make ye do so.”
“That would be best.”
Confused, but acknowledging that it was really none of his concern, James let the matter drop. “As ye wish.”
William nodded and they went back to silently watching their arriving guests, many of whom had been close friends with James’ father. Did any o’ them ken who Faither truly was?
As evening fell, the great hall came alive with music and laughter. The large dining tables had been carried away to make room for the oath-taking and everyone turned out in their best clothes. Men that James had not seen bathe properly in over a year turned out washed and groomed as best they knew how. James smiled at the nearly miraculous transformation. The hall continued to fill with MacDonald clansmen and women. James stood atop the dais awaiting the commencement of the oaths. He wished that such loftiness was not required of him; but on this day, it was ceremonially required to uphold the tradition of separateness, at least until the oaths had been completed.
A change in the sounds of the crowd to his right drew James’ attention to the door. The festive atmosphere near the entrance had turned to a quiet murmuring. James’ breath rushed out of his lungs as he saw the reason for their distraction. Elizabeth… His heart breathed her name as if it were a prayer. She was stunningly exquisite, the dress transformed her form into a work of art. The beautiful French blue brocade silk fell about her in lovely shimmering rivulets. The sleeves, bodice, and lower portion of the skirt were embroidered with the most delicate of lace silver and gold flora, finished by a gold silk ribbon encircling the entire hem. Her skin glowed luminescent under the candlelight, the ghosts of her past whispering in the depths of her eyes as golden tears in a lipid blue tidal pool.
“Ye chose well,” William murmured from behind him, his voice carrying the message of his approval.
“Aye, I did at that,” James breathed.
The crowd parted as Elizabeth moved through the crowd to stand before James. “My Lord,” she murmured sinking down into a curtsy at his feet.
James bowed, “Me Lady,” then stepped forward taking her hand to assist her to a waiting chair. By placing her at the position that the laird’s wife would normally have occupied, James knew he would cause a reaction even among his most loyal of clansmen; but he needed something that would anger his blackmailers to the point of reckless abandon. He needed them to reveal themselves. Whether it was by a fit of rage or walking out without swearing an oath, he did not care.
The room erupted into another round of murmuring and whispers. James and William scanned the crowd for anyone who looked as if they were unable to contain their anger. A handful of men gathered in the back of the room with their heads bent whispering to one another, but no one walked out and no one flew into an uncontrollable rage.
“I will keep an eye on those men,” William spoke low from behind James.
“Then let us proceed.” James nodded his head to the castle steward. The steward tapped his staff loudly upon the stone floor three times, the sound echoing off the walls, and everyone went silent.
A maid passed James, her silver quaich filled with whiskey. He grasped the quaich with both hands and lifted it over his head. He recited the words that he had spoken upon his swearing-in as laird, promising his life to the clan; then William stepped forward and knelt before him drawing his blade and swearing upon Christ that he would be loyal unto death. Man after man stepped forward swearing their allegiance and drinking from the quaich. Not a single clansman refused to take the oath. James had looked into each and every one of their eyes and had found no treachery shining back at him. Either the man threatening them was not among them, or they were the best liars that James had ever encountered.
Once the oath-taking was over, the tables were moved back into the hall and were then laden with every kind of Scottish delicacy imaginable. The silver quaich was refilled with whiskey and passed around among the clan, starting with the laird’s table. The tensions of Elizabeth’s arrival had melted away, and the hall was once again filled with the sounds of revelry. James and William had not gotten the reaction that they were hoping for, but they had a small number of men to keep an eye on. James sat down next to Elizabeth and smiled.
“Ye are bonnie tae be sure, lass.”
“I thank you for your kindness in selecting such an exquisite gown.”
“’Tis nae the gown I am referrin’ tae.”
Elizabeth blushed and averted her eyes from his. “Thank you, My Lord.”
“James, remember.”
“To do so seems so informal after witnessing such a ceremony.”
“I suppose it does, but we are so much more than the titles that we are born in tae, do ye nae agree?”
“I certainly hope so, as I have no idea as to what my own title might be. I only have your inferences to tell me that I am a noblewoman.”
“Anythin’ less and ye wouldnae have been wearin’ the clothin’ that we found ye in. Nor would ye have had the education that ye have exhibited.”
Elizabeth nodded her head. “Well, I suppose that does narrow it down a bit.”
“But nae enough.”
“Nay, not nearly enough.”
A maid interrupted their conversation by placing a large platter of venison in front of James. “Me Laird,” she smiled flirtatiously. “Is there anythin’ else I can be getting’ ye?” She bent over so that the front of her dress exposed the tops of her heaving bosom. James resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the poor lassies’ obvious invitation to warm his bed.
“Nae, lass. We are fine as we are.”
The girl frowned, pouting in disappointment. She glared at Elizabeth as if James’ refusal was her fault instead of his own genuine disinterest. The girl tossed her hair and then walked away.
“I believe that you have a young admirer,” Elizabeth noted in amusement.
“Aye,” James nodded, less amused than she.
“And you have no interest in acting upon it? Did you not say that you were in need of a wife?”
“A man needs a woman, lass, nae a girl. The wife o’ a laird must be strong enough tae face what e’er difficulties the clan might encounter, from war tae famine. That lass will ne’er be able tae think o’ anyone but herself when tragedy strikes.”
“You have a keen sense about such matters,” she remarked in surprise at his insight.
“Aye, but nae with everyone,”
he remarked regretfully. His thoughts turned to his father and how long the old patriarch had hidden his true self from his clan. James wondered if his mother had had any notion of the sort of man she had wed. James very much hoped that she had not, for her sake. He caught Elizabeth looking at him in an odd way. He knew that she probably questioned his meaning, but he was not about to explain his father’s misdeeds to a Sassenach. Part of him longed to share the burden with her. There was something about her that made him want to trust her even though he knew naught about her. Foolishness tae e’en consider trustin’ a Sassenach. The strain o’ such a secret has made me daft.
The festivities went on well into the night. Elizabeth, James, and William discussed possible marriage candidates from the many lasses in attendance, visiting with many of them, but James was not particularly intrigued by any of the candidates before him. William chastised him for being so particular. “Ye are nae marryin’ for love, lad. Ye are marryin’ tae form an alliance. Choose the lass with the strongest possible alliance.”
