by Fiona Faris
Emily nodded, fully absorbed. “Then what happened?”
“Ran all the way to the barracks and shouted and screamed until they had to fetch Alexander. The Watch told him he couldn’t bring me into the barracks. No lassies allowed.” Rebecca's face lit up at this point, her eyes far away in thought. “Alexander would not hear of it. He insisted they let me in. There wa’ a huge stramash aboot it.”
She paused, laughing softly.
“Why they let me in o’ course. Alexander bundled me up in his great coat, led me to the stables, and made a bed for me in the stook. Kept watch ower me all night while I slept, and then in the mornin’, we went to see the captain. Alexander explained my predicament...he was sympathetic but didn’t see that there was much he could do.” Rebecca inhaled sharply, blinking rapidly, to dispel the tears gathering in her eyes. Emily squeezed her hand, biting her lip as she waited expectantly.
“Alexander looked around the room, and ‘e says. ‘Look, sir, your office could use a clean and mo piuthar is the best washer I know. She’ll earn her keep.”
“What did he say?”
Rebecca shook her head. “He said no.”
Emily sighed with disappointment.
“No lassie, he made the right choice. If ’n I wasna safe in the tavern, I wouldna hae been safe in the barracks. Alexander pleaded with him, shouted, did everything he could. In the end, the captain says as I can live with his mathair. She was all alone he said and needed someone to do for her. Better still, she wasna far from the barracks. Alexander took me there himsel’ to make sure it was safe.”
“Was it safe?”
Rebecca shrugged. “Safe as twa women living together can be. Safest place I ever stayed.”
“And now you are back on the road with your brother?”
Rebecca looked down at their clasped hands. “My brother, ‘e wants what is best for me. He wants me to have a home. He thinks that if he marries ye, then he can keep me safe. But who keeps him safe?”
Emily stared into her eyes, not understanding the question.
“If ye mean to dae harm to mo bràthair, I beg ye to break this engagement now.”
Emily sat up, caught by slur on her character. “I am an honourable woman!”
Rebecca regarded her doubtfully.
“It was a shock for me, to have this Scotsman thrust upon me and perhaps I have acted...immaturely. But I know what is at stake and I will ply my part with truth and honour.”
“I hope so Emily. I make a great friend and ally, but if ye hurt my brother, ye will earn an enemy for life.”
“And what if he hurt me?” Emily challenged back, chin stuck out defiantly.
Rebecca slowly shook her head. “Alexander would never do that.”
Emily snorted. “Your faith in your brother is...commendable but likely misplaced. Just because he took care of you as you grew up does not mean he would never hurt anyone! He was at war. I’m quite sure he killed people.”
“Indeed, he did, including a man who would have killed your father. But that is war. That is survival.”
Emily froze, surprised to hear that Alexander had saved her father’s life. Nobody had informed her of this. Perhaps that was why her father had chosen him and not Philip to marry her. It explained a lot.
Alexander wandered about the mansion in search of his sister. He had not seen her since breaking his fast in the vast dining hall and now she seemed to have vanished.
Heading for the doorway, thinking that she might have decided to take some air, he bumped into Philip Bristol who was deep in conversation with one of his men.
“Pardon me-” he began before he raised his eyes and saw who was blocking his path. “Oh, it’s ye.”
“Yes, it is I,” Philip smirked. “Where’s your little sidekick then? Did you lose her?”
“Do not speak about my sister, ye bawface.”
Philip smirked, taking a step closer to glare into Alexander’s face. “You’re quick with the insults, Teutcher. But are you as quick with your sword I wonder?”
Alexander sneered. “Perhaps ye should have joined us on the battlefield if ye wanted the answer to that question.”
“Ah yes, your prowess on the battlefield. You cling to that because it’s the only thing you have to boast about isn’t it?” Philip spat to one side. “You’re nothing but a barbarian and the girl is too good for you.”
Alexander’s eyebrow lifted in derision. “I suppose she’s nae too good for ye huh? Too bad her father chose me as her betrothed. Ye’ll just have to live with it.”
Philip snorted. “We’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?” Alexander watched as he strode away, a slight frown marring his forehead.
And just what do ye mean by that?
He inhaled sharply, turning away as he remembered the purpose for venturing outside. He had to find his sister. Philip’s words had worried him; if that man or his followers had touched so much as a hair on Rebecca’s head, he would slaughter them all.
He had not been walking long when he spotted his sister and his fiancée seated together in an arbour at the bottom of the garden. He stopped, hesitating to approach them. Whatever they were discussing seemed intense and he was not in the habit of joining women’s conversations.
At that moment Emily Caldwell turned her head and caught sight of him. She jumped guiltily, colouring up and looked away again. Now Alexander was intrigued.
Where they talking about him?
Ambling over to them, he stopped a foot away to regard them warily. “May I join you?”
Rebecca grinned with delight. “But of course, Alexander, we were just speaking of you.”
“Aye. My ears were burning.”
Emily coloured beautifully at his words. “Good morrow Lady Caldwell. I trust the day finds you well?”
She inclined her head in acknowledgment and smiled slightly. “I am well thank you, and yourself?”
He bowed as he had seen her father do. “I am well, thank you.”
Rebecca was amused at this formal interaction and Alexander sent her a quelling look lest she say something embarrassing.
Her eyes sparkling with mischief in response. “Come, brother. Join us.”
Alexander looked to Emily to see if he was welcome. but her eyes were downcast, cheeks pink and her hands clasped demurely in her lap. He sighed, taking a seat beside her and watched the colour in her cheeks deepen.
“I…” his throat clicked with nerves and he coughed and began again. “I am very honoured to be allowed to take you as my wife Lady Caldwell. I only hope that you feel the same?”
Emily looks up towards him, raising her eyes slowly and favouring him her eyes before her lashes swept downwards again. “It is always an honour to be chosen as a wife.” She spiked as honestly as she could.
“I will do my best to be deserving of your honour my lady.”
She nodded demurely. “And I will do my best to support you in your endeavours.”
Rebecca clapped her hands. “There ye go. Yer wedding vows written. Now let us go and write this marriage contract.” Alexander stood and offered Emily his arm. Taking it reluctantly she offered him a small smile.
His eyes travelled up her body. “You are a tall woman. That is good, we shall do well together.”
Her face flooded with colour. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh...uh. I simply meant that...I shouldna have far to bend to kiss ye.”
Confused by his boldness, Emily let out a sudden scream, picked up her gown and ran off towards the safety of the Hall.
Chapter Five
Emily burst into the green room where her father and his men, as well as the king, were waiting.
Lord Caldwell looked towards his daughter. “Emily, nice of you to join us. We are just waiting for the MacTavishes.”
“I think they’re close behind me father.”
Her eyes travelled around the room and found Philip Bristol, smirking slightly as if he knew exactly what had transpired in the
gardens. Emily could feel the heat in her face and she bit her bottom lip, looking away. She was very confused about her feelings.
When Alexander had spoken about kissing her, she had felt a curious heat in her belly, unlike anything she had felt before. She had acted scandalised, yet she was surprised at how much the idea did not repel her.
Kissing a Scotsman.
Emily shivered at the thought, feeling quite giddy. The door opened behind her and without turning knew that Alexander and his sister had arrived. Quickly, she took a seat behind her father and flopped down, keeping her eyes on her lap. Until she had a better idea of what was happening, she did not want anyone else to discern her feelings.
“Welcome, MacTavish. Have a seat.”
Lord Caldwell passed a parchment over to Alexander. “Right so we have here a standard marriage contract, you can read, correct?”
Alexander narrowed his eyes at the Englishman. “Yes, I can read.”
“Right then, let’s get started.”
The Mantua-maker came by the next day to measure her for a dress.
Lady Caldwell held the fabric Emily’s skin to gauge whether it was suitable for her colouring.
“Now my dear, how are you feeling?”
Emily stretched her lips in the parody of a smile and tried to look as happy as she could. She was still taken up with the details of the marriage contract; her father would give them Dun Alba as their marital home and they were to go there as soon as the wedding was over.
Emily knew that Dun Alba had belonged to her uncle but had not been there since she was very young. It was in the north, and rather close to the Scottish Highlands. At least Alexander and his sister would feel at home. Emily did not want to go so far away from her sisters.
Elinor needs me!
She could feel another fit of distemper coming. Her chest felt tight and she could hardly breathe. Standing quickly, all eyes turned to face her.
“Fresh air…” she managed to mumble before quickly stumbling out of the room. Her sisters carried on their conversations, eagerly chatting about styles and lengths, coiffed hair and cosmetics.
She was happy for them, but her heart was heavy. If only she could stay at home and watch over them, help her mother and be a support to her father.
It was painfully ironic that she must leave with a Scotsman.
“Devil take it,” she murmured as she loitered about the balustrades.
“Devil take what?”
Whirling around, she almost jumped out of her skin.
“Oh, Lord Edenhall, you frightened me.”
He gave a short bow. “My apologies. I did not mean to startle you. You seem agitated, is there anything I can do to help you?”
Emily wanted to say ‘marry me’ but remained silent. Philip took a step closer.
“Emily? May I call you Emily, Lady Caldwell?”
She nodded jerkily, feeling her heart race with guilty pleasure.
“Emily, I know this marriage is not to your liking and I am very much at your service for anything you might need me for.”
Emily stared into his eyes; he seemed to know her better than the man she was destined to marry.
Why why why couldn’t it have been you?
“Thank you, for your kind words.” she smiled rather shakily, feeling the tears start in her eyes. Rather gallantly he plucked a handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her.
“Please my lady, do not shed a single tear. It hurts my heart so to see you sad.”
Taking the kerchief, she blew her nose. “I am not sad.” she protested.
He gave her a sideways smile. “Are you not, then why are you crying?” Reaching forward he curled a hand around her wrist. “You do not have to pretend with me, Emily,” he whispered.
Emily’s lips parted her throat dry as she took in his scent. He was so close to her, scandalously so.
The sound of footsteps on the cobblestones forced her to step away and she peered over Philip’s shoulder. She stared in horror at Alexander, who stood as still as a statue in an archway between two pillars. His face looked like thunder, as if the wrath of God had come to rain retribution upon her.
Philip turned to see what had upset the girl, smiling when he saw Alexander.
“Mr MacTavish. How nice of you to join us.”
Alexander cocked his eyebrow at Philip before turning to Emily. “I was under the impression that ye were measuring wedding clothes.”
Emily tried to steady her breathing, feeling as if she might faint.
“I-”
“You don’t owe him an explanation, Emily. You’re not yet married to the yaldson.”
Alexander took a step closer, his blue eyes as piercing as the midday sun. “Not married to the yaldson, yet.”
Emily hiccupped, her face pale with fear.
The two men were now toe to toe. “You should go.” his voice was a low growl that filled Emily with both fear and passion.
What is happening to me?
“I think the green suits me,” Katherine declared, “and it will match my bouquet.”
“Who said you’d be carrying the bouquet? Nobody. It’s going to be me.” Elizabeth retorted.
“Ha! You’re too short.”
“I am not!”
“Are too!”
“Girls? Girls? Stop. You can both be flower girls and have bouquets,” their mother held her hands up for the girls to be quiet, looking sternly from one to the other.
“Are we all to be bridesmaids?” Anne looked hopeful.
“I think so. If you want to be?” Lady Caldwell smiled.
“We want,” Elizabeth the youngest stepped forward.
Elinor smiled. “I think you’re a little young to be a bridesmaid.”
“Not too young. I can wear heels. I can be tall.” Elizabeth placed her hands on her hips and gave Elinor a challenging smile.
Blanche laughed aloud. “Ha! You can be tall just like me!”
Blanche was just five years old and small for her age and her remarks caused the group to laugh.
“Emily’s beau is so tall,” Blanche sighed dreamily as laughter died away.
“Yes he is.” Anne agreed with a faraway look in her eyes. “And so dangerous looking.”
Both Katherine and Elinor sighed deeply at the thought.
Lady Caldwell shook her head indulgently. “Alright girls. If you are done having your measurements taken, it’s time to do your chores before they ring the dinner bell.”
The room emptied, leaving Lady Caldwell alone with the Mantua-maker. “Will the dresses be ready by Saturday?”
She nodded. “I shall have all my dressmakers working on this wedding. The dresses shall be ready on time. I promise you.”
It was a relief. “An extra guinea if they are delivered early. This wedding has to go well.”
“I understand your Ladyship, have I not been making your gowns for years? I will not let you down.”
Lady Caldwell reached out and squeezed her arm. “I thank you, Magdalene.”
Emily watched as Philip walked away, leaving alone to contend with Alexander’s wrath. She did not know why he should be angry - Philip was right, they were not yet married and in any case, Emily was free to speak with anyone she pleased. She was not a prisoner.
Lifting her chin, she looked him dead in the eye. He towered over her, cold blue eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. It was quite intimidating. He did not say a word but it was all she could do not to cower in fear.
“Your mother was asking for you,” he said at last.
She nodded hastily and scurried off without a backward glance.
Alexander was fuming after catching his bride to be with that dobber Philip. He knew in his heart that Philip was trying to rile him, but he could not help but feel anger and betrayed
He went in search of Rebecca, needed to either speak with his sister or break something in his rage. He would prefer to resolve his feeling non-violently especially in this strange place where he was but a
visitor and soon to be family.
