Another Man's Bride

by Ariel MacArran

  “Ye do?” he breathed. In the next instant his face fairly glowed with joy. “Will ye have me then, as husband?”

  In her vision the man was not her husband. He was murderous with rage, but if they should marry and never go to the court, none of it could ever come to be.

  I love him so very much…

  She swallowed. “The danger is terrible.”

  He eyes were soft. “I love ye, sweet. Ye had me, heart and soul, when ye first took my hand on the stair. I dinna care for the danger. Yer worth all that an’ more.”

  “The vision—” She put her hands on his chest, serious. “We must never to court. We must never see the queen.”

  He gave a nod. “Never.”

  She could feel his heartbeat under her hand. “Yes.”

  He searched her face. “Ye will?”

  Her heart lit with pure joy. She smiled. “Yes, Colyne, I will wed you.”

  He smiled in return. “Now? We can to the kirk later.”

  Isabella hesitated. Even the Church declared marriage vows said in secret, without the consent of her family and without witnesses, were just as binding as vows with great fanfare at the church door before king and court. But she knew also how disappointed Kat would be not to see that final exchange of promises.

  “I should not wish to hurt Kat.”

  “An’ ’tis better done in front of witnesses, I ken. Will ye handfast with me, then? Be me betrothed wife?”

  She nodded.

  Colyne took her hand in his, his eyes serious.

  “I, Colyne, take ye, Isabella, to me betrothed wife and thereto I pledge ye me troth.”

  Isabella smiled at him through tears.

  “I, Isabella, take you, Colyne, as my betrothed husband and thereto I pledge you my troth.”

  He smiled and kissed her. “Well, what shall we do now?”

  She laughed and pulled him back to the bed.

  The snow started again and Colyne would not venture out with her till it had stopped.

  Colyne would scarce let her venture from the bed for the next day. Nor, caught by the delight he took in loving her, did she wish to.

  He would have her eat, though, fearful that a single missed meal should harm her.

  He seated her and tucked her cloak around her, a bowl of hot pottage in her hand while he tended to the horse and fetched wood to build up the fire.

  He laid the log onto the fire, feeding it with sticks, the light catching the red-gold hair of his beard.

  The wooden bowl in her hand paled and faded, the cottage around her with it—

  Colyne led the horse, she seated in the saddle, the snowdrifts high around them.

  She could see the castle. They were nearly there.

  The sunlight sparkled on the snow and lit his face. He smiled over his shoulder at her. “See, I’ve brought ye home safe, sweet.”

  Warmth spread through her chest. Home. Had she ever had one before?

  They were safe—

  “Isabella? Are ye all right?”

  The cottage snapped back to her awareness.

  “Yes.” She smiled. “Yes, I am.”

  Colyne looked at her quizzically. “Ye looked…”

  Isabella tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Kat says I look ever like I am woolgathering when I have a sending. My grandmother wondered if I were afflicted with fits.”

  “A vision,” he said, his voice awed. “Can ye tell me of it?”

  Isabella ducked her head. “’Twas nothing. Only our return to the castle.”

  “Can ye—do ye hear saints speakin’ to ye? As Jehanne did?”

  “No.” She hesitated. “It is as if everything stops and turns to colored glass, then the glass turns clear and fades to nothing. Then I am somewhere else and I see what will be.”

  His eyes were wide. “A wondrous thing, that.”

  Isabella gave a self-conscious laugh. “I would barter it away for a pair of woolen stockings, if I could. Sometimes I think I would trade places with any, to be other than I am.”

  He cupped her cheek, his strong fingers gentle against her skin. “I would have none but ye, sweet. An’ have ye be none but yerself.”

  His words and gaze—so loving, so warm, brought a rush of tears to her eyes.

  “I dinna mean to make ye cry, now.”

  “I do not show myself to others easy, even Kat. You must give me time to become accustomed to it.”

  “I would we could stay here forever and keep ye only for meself but I expect Mistress Katherine will tear me hair out for leavin’ her worry so. An’ we best marry today or Sir William will demand justice by the sword.”

  Colyne smiled down at her.

  He loves me. Oh, but let me have this! William will be a fortnight, mayhap longer. By then we will be wedded and bedded so not even my uncle could wield his Cardinal’s hat to have it annulled.

  Surely, Colyne will come to understand why ’twas done.

  And today at least, we will make it to the castle safely. Of that I am sure.

  She would tell him, she promised silently, the moment they were inside the gate.

  With the security of the castle around him, and the presence of his MacLaulach allies, he would take the news somewhat better.

  She hoped.

  The snow had stopped and the idea of marrying today had him set on returning with all speed. He bade her sit idle while he tidied the cottage. Smiling inwardly, she wondered just how much she would be permitted to do until the babe was born.

  She suggested they return to the castle riding double but he thought it too strenuous for her. He helped her mount the horse, insisting on walking it back to the castle.

  “I canna believe Mistress Katherine hasna whipped me through the castle,” Colyne said, leaning into the drifts as he led the horse, “knowin’ as she did about the bairn.”

  “Do not be too smug,” Isabella returned. “She may yet extract punishment.”

  “Caitrina will be relieved to know what ails ye.” Colyne shook his head. “She’s been at me about ye. She said keepin’ ye prisoner was makin’ ye ill.”

  “She said that?”

  “Aye,” Colyne replied, and from his tone, Isabella knew that Caitrina had said it often. He glanced back at her, concerned. “Are ye ill, love? I know women feel poorly at the start of a child.”

  “At times. Today I find myself tired,” Isabella replied. “But I think that is more your doing than the child’s.”

  “Ach, I dinna mean to overtire ye. I shall leave ye in peace for a bit, shall I?”

  “I do not think that will be necessary,” she said. “Or welcome.”

  “Do ye think the bairn a lad?” he asked suddenly, his face bright. “Or a lass?”

  “One of those, yes,” she teased.

  He threw her a look. “Morag says a woman sometimes knows.”

  “Not any lady I have ever met!”

  “I wondered if mayhaps ye might have had a sending, sweet.”

  “No. I have not seen anything of the child.”

  “Mayhap ye will, though.” He looked back at her, smiling. “When the time is nearer.”

  “Is it much farther, Colyne?”

  “Nae much. Are ye cold, love?”

  “No, I just—I want very much to be inside now.”

  “Ach, after all that time inside the walls?” he joked, but he quickened his pace.

  She was growing more anxious by the moment. Kat must have been caught out by now. The MacLaulach man had woken long ago to find himself deprived of his clothes.

  When they arrived the truth would be known and yet Isabella grew more frantic to reach the castle with every passing moment—so much so that her fingers tightened on the horse’s saddle till her knuckles whitened.

  He noticed her worry and paused as they reached the crest looking over the castle and the village below.

  “See, I’ve brought ye home safe, sweet.”

  She looked up and let her breath out, warmth spreading through her c
hest.

  Home and safe.

  Just as she had seen it.

  The castle and the village looked just the same as when she had last seen them. They were unchanged, and still.

  Her smile faded.

  So very, very still.

  “Colyne,” she whispered, sliding off the horse.

  He too had tensed, already aware something was wrong.

  The gate stood open but there were no guards standing watch. There were no children running at play in the village, no comings and goings as usual for a country house. Two men crossed by the gate but even at this distance she could see they were neither clansmen nor Highlanders.

  Isabella heard something then. Riders, approaching from the south. She could not tell their number but it sounded to be a half dozen at least.

  Colyne heard them, too. He was already reaching for his sword.

  “Mount up!” he ordered, urging her back toward the saddle. He had blanched and the freckles on his upper cheeks stood out against his pallor. “Ride for MacLaulach land! Tell them—”

  He broke off as the riders crested the hill, moving to stand protectively in front of her.

  Horrified, Isabella recognized Sir William mounted on the MacLaulach’s horse. A group of men rode with him, armed and dressed in doublet and hose like Lowlanders.

  Colyne scrambled to bring his sword around.

  No, oh, please, no!

  These were the king’s men.

  Sir William bought his horse to a stop. He signaled the other men to hold back and brought his horse closer.

  “Sir William?” Colyne breathed, looking at the knight in naked astonishment.

  “My Lord MacKimzie,” William returned with an inclined his head, then straightened. “In the name of His Majesty, King James, I demand the release of Lady Isabella Beaufort.”

  The knight dismounted, handing the reins to a nearby soldier. He walked toward them, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

  “I would prefer we two settle this, my lord, without further violence,” William said. “But know I have brought a company of men and will summon them if I must. Hand Lady Isabella over to my protection peacefully and I give you my word you will not be harmed. Now, if you please?”

  Colyne shook his head. “Ye brought them? How?”

  “Colyne,” Isabella said quickly. “I—” The words caught in her throat as Colyne looked round at her. “I sent them.”

  “Ye sent him? I dinna understand.”

  She wetted her lips. “I disguised him as a MacLaulach clansman. He rode out with me from the castle as my guard.”

  “But why would ye?” The blood drained from Colyne’s face. “’Twas all a mummer. Ye and Katherine makin’ a fuss in front of the MacLaulach. Ye got him to send one of his lads and me to agree. And all I could think of was how to break with Bredach to free meself for ye.” His eyes widened with anguish. “Ye broke yer word. Ye swore to me ye wouldna try to escape.”

  “I did not escape,” she replied, reaching for him. “Please—”

  “And the gate left open at my order, the clansmen all scattered about looking for ye.” He turned, looking down at the castle and the tiny village below, so eerily still now. “Isabella, what have ye done?”

  “Colyne, I am sorry—I did not mean …”

  “Please know, MacKimzie, this brings me no joy,” Sir William said seriously. “I regret those that were lost in this battle. Surrender to me now and resign yourself to be judged by His Majesty for your crimes.”

  “What have ye done?” Colyne cried, agonized.

  He looked around at her with an expression of such hatred that she nearly sank to her knees under the weight of it.

  “Colyne—”

  In the next instant he was running toward the castle, his sword in hand.

  “Colyne!”

  Straining against Sir William’s hold, Isabella watched in horror as Colyne ran to join a fight that had long since been lost.

  “Colyne!”

  “My lady!”

  Isabella struggled against William’s hold. Colyne slid on the snowy hillside, catching himself to run on.

  Isabella twisted around. “Please, William, do not let him die!”

  He blinked at her, disbelieving, then took in the men who observed.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  The suspicion in his eyes faded to understanding and his shoulders fell. “I shall do what I can. Be at peace so I may go after!”

  She nodded and he released her. William ordered her escorted to Katherine’s keeping and Isabella, left to the king’s men, quickly lost sight of him.

  The guards brought her to a small gathering place in the woods. In their midst Kat waited, her expression at once relieved and alarmed when she spotted Isabella.

  “What have I done?” Isabella sobbed upon seeing her cousin. “Oh, Kat, he will be killed!”

  Kat embraced her and whispered fiercely in her ear. “Not here!”

  When Kat drew away Isabella saw real fear in her cousin’s face. She glanced around at the men listening. The king’s men regarded her with interest.

  “Sir William is a brave and capable knight.” Kat spoke with a voice loud enough that she was sure to be overheard. “He has faced such danger before.”

  “Of course,” Isabella said woodenly. “Yes, of course. I quite lost my head.”

  “We will pray for him.” Kat nodded to one of the guards. “Fetch a blanket. I will not have my lady kneel in the snow.”

  The man nodded assent and Kat drew Isabella away into a nearby clearing. When he returned with a rough horse blanket, Kat directed him to lay it down for them. They knelt together.

  “Let us pray in peace,” she said to the guard. “But come to us straightaway with news.”

  The man retreated respectfully. Kat clasped her hands in a posture of prayer and, shaking still, Isabella tried to imitate her serene bearing.

  “How?” Isabella asked through numb lips. “William could not have gotten to Perth and returned!”

  “William met a contingent of the king’s men who were traveling south. Their commander—Hugh Seton—is well known to William and agreed to return here. They came hours ago,” Kat said. “With such a force and the gate open they took the castle easily.”

  Isabella thought suddenly of all those within the castle. Caitrina, Jamie, Malcolm, Dougal, the stableboy who took such pride in caring for Cobweb…

  “Were any killed?”

  “I do not know. One of the MacLaulachs was badly injured. William let Caitrina go to him. We were all of us searching for you and the MacKimzie. The men were spread too thin to mount a defense. William, true knight that he is, spared life in return for surrender.”

  “Dear God,” Isabella whispered. She tried to rise but Kat caught hold of her.

  “I am sure, can he do so, William will take the MacKimzie alive. Mind that we are watched, poppet.”

  Isabella clasped her shaking hands in pretend prayer. “He will never surrender. He will make them kill him.”

  Isabella’s knees grew icy, one word repeating in her mind.

  Please, she thought. Please.

  She could not live if he did not. She could not bear to.

  It seemed a very long time that she knelt there in the snow beside Kat.

  Please.

  Isabella’s head came up as the sound of crunching footfalls reached her.

  William!

  Stiff from the cold, Isabella got to her feet, searching his grim face for word. He waved the guard away.

  Kat stood beside her as the man passed from earshot. “I was worried for you, William.”

  He gave her a short nod. “I am unharmed, Katherine, but this is far from my finest day.”

  “Please,” Isabella cried, her fist pressed to her breastbone. “Is he—?”

  “I praise God,” William replied wearily, “that the MacKimzie has seen fit to surrender himself for the king’s judgment.”

  Captured, then. But
not dead.

  Not dead!

  Isabella swallowed. “Is he taken unhurt then?”

  “The MacKimzie—saw the wisdom of surrender. He is unharmed.”

  Isabella closed her eyes briefly. “Thank you,” she murmured. “Thank you, William.”

  She could not see the castle from this clearing. The wind picked up; bits of snow and ice stung her cheeks.

  “The lady Caitrina. How frightened she must be.”

  “We are all subject to His Majesty’s will. I am sure the king will consider that the MacKimzie has agreed to bear punishment for the acts of his clansmen. It is my hope that His Majesty will be—” William shifted uncomfortably. “Lenient.”

  Isabella met his eyes, and the knight dropped his gaze. James was not a merciful man, nor one who forgave those who acted against him. Gallows upon gallows stood testament to his brutality.

  Swiftly Isabella crossed the clearing so she was a handbreadth from William.

  “Let me see him, speak to him,” she pleaded, her hand on his arm. William was already shaking his head and her voice broke. “Please, if only for a moment!”

  “No, that is not possible.” He stepped back. “I judge it best the MacKimzie is restrained as fitting the transport of a well-seasoned fighting man. I cannot be too cautious.”

  Isabella stared at him, shaking her head. “He treated you ever as a guest! His own sister tended you! And in your gratitude, you would chain him like a common—”

  “My lady,” he interrupted, his dark eyes level. “We have a long and uncomfortable journey ahead of us. Your escort is preparing to ride. I think it best we depart for Perth immediately.”

  Isabella’s fragile control cracked. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, her nostrils flaring. “Take me to him this instant!”

  “Isabella!” Kat admonished, clasping her by the shoulders, and then softened her tone. “You are overwrought.” Her cousin spoke deliberately. “Perhaps these arrangements will be revisited upon the road.”

  “I will direct the men to ready your mounts. We leave upon the quarter hour.”

  He bowed to her and Isabella watched him go with narrowed eyes.

  “You may let go of me now, Kat. I am quite in possession of myself again.”

  Kat hesitated, but dropped her hands.