by Fiona Faris
“The war has started again.”
“And?”
Alexander shrugged. “I dinna ken.”
Rebecca inhaled sharply, stiffening to her full height as she paced from side to side. Then she stopped, and turned, facing them where they sat watching her. “Well then we’ll just wait for a letter. Meanwhile, they have finished clearing out the south wing. We’re about tae celebrate.”
Alexander nodded. “We’ll be richt there.”
Chapter Eighteen
They sat quietly on the bed just breathing. Emily reached out and covered Alexander’s hand with her own. She turned to face him with a smile. “We’ll face this together.”
Alexander nodded. “Indeed we shall. But Rebecca is right. Worrying aboot it now does nae guid. Let us wait for news and in the meanwhile, we have a home to build.”
Emily looked around them at the clean room, free from dust or vermin; the huge canopy bed with its feather mattress and cotton coverlet, the brass fittings in the fireplace beautifully framing it. Large windows let in the cool spring breeze scented with grass and flowers. It was a beautiful space they had made for themselves.
“We have built a home.”
Alexander turned to her, his eyes soft and smiling, “Indeed we have. A faimly too. I canna wait to add to it.”
Emily started at that, eyes widening. It occurred to her for the first time what their bedroom activities could lead to. “Oh.”
Alexander raised an eyebrow. “Do ye not want bairns?”
“Of course I want children.”
Alexander’s shoulders relaxed. “Guid.”
“I just hadn’t thought about them yet. And now, if you are to go to war and the house still in repair and the bandits about…”
Alexander leaned closer. “I shallna leave ye unprotected mo ghràidh.”
Emily turned to face him, gazing up into his eyes. “That word you just called me, what does it mean?”
Alexander smiled. “It means my dear.”
“Oh.”
Emily’s face flamed as she turned away, she cleared her throat, “well, we should go and…”
Alexander stood up, holding out a hand to Emily. “Indeed we should.”
Rebecca and the men were already halfway through a bottle of whiskey and in the midst of making extravagant toasts when they arrived.
Emily sighed. “I guess we won’t be getting much more work done today.”
Alexander snorted. “Why? Because they’ve taken a wee dram? Havers! Och, we’ll gie them another half hour then it’s back to work.”
Rebecca came up to them with three glasses. She handed one to Emily and the other to Alexander before raising her own in a toast. “Slainte!”
Alexander lifted his glass. “Slainte.”
Emily took a delicate sip and smiled.
Amos came up to Alexander, just as he was emptying a wheelbarrow of stones. He had it in mind to build a pigpen near the house. Perhaps a chicken coop as well. That would regularly provide meat and eggs for them and he could use the animal skins from hunting to barter for things they could not grow or breed themselves.
This news of war had thrown him, if he was called to serve it would interfere with his plans for his estate. He already had men reinforcing the gates so that the bandits could not take them by surprise again.
Perhaps I should build a moat.
He straightened up as he heard the thud of Amos’s cane, waiting for his report.
“You have visitors, sir.”
Alexander’s brow furrowed. “Visitors?”
“Yes, sir, from down south.”
Alexander wondered if Emily’s family had already come on a visit and whether they would be insulted if he put them in the South Wing. There was a bit of a draft because one the rooms opening onto the balcony were missing a door. Alexander had planned to get round to it later that day.
He sighed, dropping the stone he was holding to head back to the house.
“Do these visitors have names?”
Amos shook his head. “Your sister seemed to know them. She wasn’t pleased.”
Alexander stopped, frowning at his steward. Rebecca had nothing against Emily’s family, so it wasn’t likely to be them. “Describe them to me please, Amos.”
“Well, there’s a dandy, almost tall as you; golden hair, green eyes. Haughty-like and-”
“Say no more,” Alexander sighed. He knew exactly who was at his door and he wondered what on earth the fool wanted. What a nerve to call here!
Quickening his pace, his face was as dark as thunder. Amos followed slowly behind.
“Philip Bristol. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Philip laughed. “There is no need to pretend you are glad to see me Teutcher. I know you’d rather run me thrugh with your sword than talk to me.”
“It’s a claymore.”
“Right.”
Philip Bristol was still on his horse, standing in the courtyard and surrounded by five of his men. “I come in peace.”
Alexander snorted.
The other man sighed. “Lord Caldwell sent me with a letter for you. Would you like it or not?”
Alexander held out his hand.
Philip shook his head in mock outrage. “What? Not even an offer of water to quench our thirst after our long journey? Somewhere to lay our heads for a while?”
“I’m sure you can find accommodation at the village inn.”
“We are on the way to war. Is that any way to treat a fellow patriot?”
Alexander laughed. “Ye? On ye’re way to war? Pull the other one.”
Philip Bristol narrowed his eyes, face growing red with anger. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean by that.”
Alexander took a step closer, leaning towards Philip. “Ye might fool others with that act o’ yers, but not me Edenhall. Gie me my letter and get off my land.”
Philip’s horse reared up, hooves dangerously close to Alexander’s head. The Scotsman did not move a muscle. “I am afraid I do not have it on me. Perhaps you can send your wife to collect it from me at the inn.”
Alexander leaped forward, but Philip’s men came quickly them. Philip laughed, steering his horse towards the gate. “I shall wait for you there.”
He spurred his horse onward, exiting from the compound in a cloud of dust, his men thundering behind him. Alexander watched them go with narrowed eyes and then turned toward the house. He could see Rebecca lurking just inside the doorway, a bleak look on her face but luckily, Emily was nowhere in sight.
He took the stairs two at a time, grim-faced. “Where is my wife?”
“Surely ye’re not thinking of sending her!”
Alexander gave his sister a jaded look. “What do ye take me for?”
Rebecca nodded shamefacedly and pointed to the kitchen. “I left her in there.”
Alexander strode away, snorting as if smoke were coming out of his nostrils like a proverbial dragon. He found Emily wedged in a corner, pulling at her kerchief. She looked up as he reentered, whiskey eyes wide and scared and making her look like a little girl. “Has he gone?”
Alexander hesitated, not knowing what to say. “He has left for the moment. He has a letter from your father for me so I expect he’ll be back once he’s finished with his games.”
“Games?”
“Aye.”
Emily’s eyebrows were raised as if expecting further explanation but the topic of Philip Bristol was still an awkward one between them. It was difficult to know what to say.
“What games?”
“He seeks to taunt me wi’ ye.”
“Me? But I haven’t done anything. I didn’t even speak to him. I swear to y-”
“I ken that. That’s why I said they were his games.”
“Oh.” Emily looked down at her hands. “Okay.”
“I shall send Amos to see if he can get the letters. If not, I shall go mysel’ to get them.”
Emily got to her feet. “What does that mean? You don’t pl
an to fight him do you?”
Alexander shook his head slowly. “Not unless he makes me.”
Emily heaved a deep breath. “Oh, alright. Just…you’re barely recovered from your last fight.”
Alexander gave her a bleak smile. “I am a soldier, mo ghràidh. It is what I do.”
“You are a husband now too.”
Alexander’s eyes dropped to her lips. “Indeed I am.” He leaned in, stopping just before his lips connected with hers. She closed the tiny space between them; licking inexpertly at his lips until he opened his mouth and sucked her tongue. Stumbling forward, she balanced herself by placing her hands flat on his chest and letting him do with her tongue what he would.
He licked and sucked, tasted and taunted for an interminable time before letting her go. She swayed on her feet, eyes closed and his hand shot out to steady her.
“All righ’?” he asked softly.
She nodded and swallowed. “I am fine. Where did you learn to kiss like that?”
He shrugged his face filling with colour. “Ye dinna want to ken.”
Her eyebrows almost brushed her hairline. “Don’t I?”
Reaching down he planted a short hard kiss on her lips, smiling all the while. “No, ye dinna. Now, I need to go and send Amos to fetch our letters.”
Emily nodded, still looking dazed. “Alright.”
“Himself has sent me for the letters you brought,” Amos stood his ground in front of Philip’s table at the inn. Philip tilted his head to the side, looking the steward slowly up and down. “Did he now? Funny you don’t look like Miss Caldwell.”
“She’s Mrs. MacTavish now if you please.” Amos held his cane tighter as his eyes narrowed.. He might not comprehend the full history between this man and his master but he already understood that Philip Bristol was bad news.
The man barked a laugh. “We’ll see about that. I expect she’s not too happy to be living in that hovel that is falling down around her.”
Amos lifted his chin proudly. “Dun Alba is coming along very well, I have you know.”
“Oh it's coming along nicely you say?” he cruelly mimicked Amos’ rural tones.
“Yes, indeed it is. And believe me, Mrs MacTavish has no intention of leaving.”
Philip laughed. “And how would you know so much about Miss Caldwell?”
“That is absolutely none of your business.” Amos snapped in annoyance, “Now you have my Master's letters. He has sent me for them.”
“Tell your... master, that he can do as I said and send his wife to fetch them.”
Amos lifted his cane in anger, almost beating Philip with it. His men stood up as one, pushing Amos away as they reached for their weapons.
The steward growled, withdrawing; leaving quickly in a huff to the sound of Philip’s mocking laughter behind him. He set off at a fast pace, bristling with rage and wanting nothing more than to return with a posse and reduce Philip Bristol to pig fodder. He now understand why Alexander had been so displeased when he heard who his visitor was. Philip Bristol was poisonous.
Alexander was not surprised when Amos came back empty-handed. From the moment he had seen Philip in his courtyard, he had known this would end in a fight. What he did not know was how Emily would take it. He did not want to upset her, and he knew she was still perturbed at violence.
However, he did not see another way out. They needed to know what was in her father’s letter, and if indeed the King expected Alexander to arm up and go to war again. For the first time in his life, he prayed that he would not have to fight. He and Emily were just starting to be a real husband and wife - a family. He wanted to see where that would go.
Neither he nor Amos had noticed Emily lurking outside the door to the room Alexander had designated as his study. There was not much to set it apart from other rooms other than an ornate club-footed desk, and a leather-upholstered chair.
Alexander did not use the room much but he expected that it would be a good place to receive deputations from the village. Right now, it served as a war room for him and Amos and himself to thrash out exactly how they would extract the letters from Philip, with or without violence.
Emily did not want to see her husband in another fight. She most definitely did not want him to be hurt or killed. If Philip was insisting that he would give the letters only to her, then she felt duty-bound to go to the village and collect them. She called for her lady's maid. “I shall need to go out to the village, prepare my riding habit and then fetch me a horse from the stables.”
“But my lady where are you going?” Frances appeared agitated.
“I have told you where I am going now do as I say.”
Frances curtsied distractedly, before rushing down the corridor to Emily and Alexander's room. She had not yet unpacked, there being so much to do, and Frances distracted so the habit was still in Emily’s baggage.
Frances laid it upon the bed and helped Emily out of her cleaning clothes and into it. She wanted to stop Emily from leaving but dare not say a word.
Emily climbed onto her horse, heart pounding. She was more than a little nervous about this expedition. If she thought that Rebecca would agree to it, she might have asked Alexander's sister to accompany her. However, provide Rebecca was more likely to lock her in her room than come with her so the point was moot.
“Oh, dear lord please let this go smoothly.” she prayed as she galloped down the rough road.
It didn’t take long to reach the village, and taking too soon for her liking, the inn came into view. Taking a deep breath she steered her horse to a stop outside, continuously murmuring prayers under her breath. She tethered her ride to a post before striding purposefully into the Inn.
“Excuse me,” a passing serving boy looked up, not used to seeing a young lady riding alone. “I am looking for Philip Bristol, Lord Edenhall. I believe he is staying here?”
The boy nodded before entering the inn, turned in the direction from which he came. She stood in the courtyard foyer, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Soon the boy returned with Philip himself trailing after behind, his face smiling with delight. “Miss Caldwell how lovely it is to see you.”
“That’s Mrs MacTavish,” she replied not wanting to antagonize him but needing him to understand once and for all, that she was now a married woman.
“I remember you allowed me to call you Emily,” he ran a finger down her sleeve. She jerked away, face flaming.
“Perhaps once, but now I am a married woman I don’t think that is appropriate?”
Philip inclined his head to the side, his mouth turning down in disappointment. “Don’t you really? And her was I thinking we would be bosom friends for life. After all, I did risk my life and reputation for you.”
Emily turned her burning face away. “We are mere acquaintances Lord Edenhall, let us not pretend otherwise.”
Philip turned to his left with a sigh, pointing out the dining room. “Will you not break bread with me?”
Emily was shaking her head even before he finished speaking. “I would rather just take the letters and go.”
“But I have some news I need to impart to you. Did you think I insisted upon your presence simply to rile MacTavish? How little you must think of me.”
“News? What news?” He had gained her curiosity.
Philip pointed again to the dining room. “Come let us sit and eat together.”
Emily blinked, trying to think what to do for the best. Finally, she nodded. “All right. I will eat with you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Frances went running to find Alexander as soon as she could. “Mr MacTavish sir, you must hurry. Mrs MacTavish has gone to town to see that scoundrel.”
Alexander stiffened at once. “I beg your pardon.”
Frances nodded frantically. “She asked me to help her into her riding habit and took off on her horse. I don't know what she's planning. She would not say a word.”
Alexander looked around in confusion, for a moment having no id
ea inkling how to proceed next.
Emily went to see him.
He felt a knot of betrayal twisting in his stomach.
“Sir!” Frances called and he jerked him out of his musings. Clutching Frances’s arm, he squeezed a little too harshly. “Are you sure she went to see him?”
