by Eliza Knight
“I wish it were for a lifetime.”
“Perhaps both of our wishes will come true.”
When the music started, the ladies formed a circle taking Walter’s hands, and it was then his brother looked at him with a mix of horror and anguish. The ring dance was done in a circle, all the participants holding hands. Niall would break the circle by only being able to hold on to one.
Niall backed away, swiped an ale from a passing servant and raised it into the air. “Would ye look at my wee brother! I declare him knight for the day, and I’d be honored if he’d take my place.”
With that, he marched out of the hall without a backward glance. Come hell or high water, he was going to put off wedding that spoiled brat for as long as he possibly could.
The following morning, when Niall woke, his brother stood at the end of his bed.
“What the hell are ye doing?” Niall asked.
Walter crossed his arms over his chest and jutted out his chin. “I’ve thought about what ye said.”
“What?” Niall rubbed at his eyes, trying to wake more fully.
“About wedding the princess.”
At that, Niall sat straight up, the cobwebs of sleep suddenly cleared. “And?” He loved his brother, and considering how much Walter had done for him over the past year, the man deserved a rise in the ranks. Perhaps he would be able to tame the unruly princess, too. But he wouldn’t force him if it wasn’t what he truly wanted.
“I’ll do it. It would be an honor to be so close to the king, and I can see how she’s treated ye. I’ll not have her hurt ye anymore.”
Niall swallowed around a lump of emotion that formed in his throat. His brother would really do this for him? “How can I ever thank ye?”
“Ye’ll need to let me kick your arse every once in a while. I’ve a feeling I’ll have a need to let my frustrations out with my fists.”
Niall chuckled. “Anything for ye.”
“How will ye arrange to break the betrothal?”
“I’ve no idea. Maybe I’ll start a rumor that my cock isna in working order. That ought to send her running.”
Walter burst out into raucous laughter at that. “I’ll pay ye a year’s wages to do it.”
Niall grinned. “I’ve never been a betting man, but ye’ve just convinced me, brother.”
Chapter 4
Dunrobin Castle
Scottish Highlands
December 1319
Bella had never seen the castle so filled with people. They took up every corner of the great hall, sitting on the wooden benches and lounging against the tapestry-covered stone walls. Extra chairs and stools had been brought in as well as fur rugs to line the floors. Her mother’s solar was also packed with ladies, and men covered the bailey like flies on overripe fruit.
Invitations for the largest gathering since the great tournament in 1306 had been issued to the surrounding clans, the Sutherland allies, and King Robert Bruce himself.
Bella’s father and mother had not expected everyone to accept their invitation, and due to the unseasonably warm months leading up to this point, they’d not expected a massive snowstorm to keep their guests stranded at Dunrobin Castle for the foreseeable future. Well, at least it felt that way to Bella. Interminably long.
Two days had passed since the first horses and carts arrived loaded with people, but already Bella was willing to beg her father to send everyone on their way.
There seemed to be music and games at all hours, which interfered with her ability to sneak away and shoot her arrows. All she desired was to remain aloof and quiet in the lady’s solar, except that too was now in constant use by others. Three extra hands would be required if she were to count on her fingers the number of times she’d gone to the solar to read and found every inch of space covered by a lady other than herself.
It was only by chance that her bedchamber was empty now so she could take just the briefest repose. With all their guests at the castle, she’d been forced to share her bedchamber with her two younger sisters. She let the fur covering over her window drop to muffle the sounds from outside.
Was she a spoiled lass? Some may say so, but she tried to be kind and generous and have a tender, encouraging word for anyone who spoke to her. She helped her mother with the household chores without balking, assisted her father in any duty he might request of her, and even helped her brothers and sisters at whatever task they struggled with—including flirting with the lassies.
Bella had also brought together a number of lasses and lads. It seemed she had an eye for matchmaking. Her mother said was because she spent so much time with the minstrels and bards who passed through Sutherland. Bella copied down their stories and songs, embellishing them and creating her own tales that she regaled the clan with daily. Every one of the legends she wove had a love story entwined, though most of them were tragic.
It was Bella’s perhaps not-so-subtle way of informing her parents she was not interested in marriage. Ever. Unless, of course, it ended in her spouse succumbing to an untimely death. Aye, a tragedy to call her own.
She’d made a deal with her mother in the spring for a short reprieve from proposals, which her father had complied with, but there had been a subtle shift in the wind lately that Bella was very aware of. She wasn’t certain exactly when the shift had started, but it had been made unpleasantly clear two days ago.
Until two days ago, Lord and Lady Sutherland had not pushed the idea of marriage. However, the notion had not gone by her that her older brother, Magnus, named for their father, had been betrothed last month. Even her younger brother Liam, and her two younger sisters, Greer and Blair, were hoping to soon be attached. But since Bella was second born in the family and first of the daughters, her sisters could not be married until she was. A thought she’d not considered at all until Greer mentioned it—and then looked forlornly off into the distance.
The fact that if she were to wed, she’d likely be set aside soon after, was a point Bella could not make. She was not surprised when two days after speaking with her sister, her father informed her she must choose a husband from the crowds descending upon their castle. When she’d opened her mouth to argue, her mother had spoken up, saying they’d allowed her enough time to come to terms with her future, and seconded the laird’s decree that Bella pick one of the eligible bachelors, threatening that if she did not, they would pick one for her.
At least they were giving her a choice, she tried to remind herself. But even having that choice didn’t make the task any more pleasant.
Bella did not want to marry. At all.
Throughout her life, she’d looked upon her parents’ marriage and known she could never have anything so perfect. They loved each other. Appeared to still desire each other, given the looks and kisses they were not too subtle in sharing, which always brought a round of groans from their five children. Their affection was so rare. Bella couldn’t possibly hope to replicate it.
Not to mention, the deepest secret she kept buried in her heart of hearts, never shared with any other. In fact, she dared not think it in case the truth of her fears were plainly seen on her face.
Unlike most of the lassies her age—two and twenty summers—she’d never been interested in kissing lads. For certes in her tales, she always talked about a great kiss between a man and a woman, but not once had she wanted to do the deed herself. Perhaps, if not for her secret, she might actually have desired it. But what was the point when a great love would never be hers?
Her mother said it was because the right lad had not yet come along, but her father said he was glad for it, and to keep her lips well away from any of the mongrels that might try to paw at her. Lord and Lady Sutherland did not know her secret. And she could never tell them for fear of disappointing them greatly.
With a begrudging sigh, Bella pushed off the chair covered with thick cushions her sisters and mother had embroidered for her birthday the previous year and marched toward the door. If she was going to have to choose a hus
band, she might as well get it over with.
The march down the stairs was interminably long, the sounds from the great hall deafening. None of the boisterous lads dancing around and clashing their mugs of ale would do for a husband. So outside she went, where great bonfires were lit to warm the bailey as large clumps of white snow fell. She tilted her face up, closed her eyes and let a few of the icy puffs land on her cheeks.
It was then she heard something most intriguing. An argument. A rather one-sided row. Did that still make it an argument, or merely a ranting?
Curious as always for a new angle to add to a story, Bella crept toward the wall of the keep from where the shrill voice of a young woman sounded around the corner. She paused when her slippers crunched on the newly fallen snow, but whoever was making a ruckus did not cease their squabbling, and so she continued on.
“I will not have ye. I should have called the betrothal off months ago.” The female speaker was shrill and indignant, and there came no reply. But she must be spouting off to someone. “Ye’re not a man. I am the daughter of a king—the greatest king! And I deserve a whole man.”
Daughter of the king? Bella’s spine straightened, knowing at once who the speaker was. Only one royal offspring was in attendance—Princess Elizabeth.
Bella chewed her lip, considering that perhaps she ought to turn and slink away rather than listen to the dressing down Princess Elizabeth was giving to whomever it was she was betrothed to. And just who was it? This man that was not a whole man. She rolled her eyes heavenward, wishing she could be more like her sisters and actually pay attention to who was marrying who, and all that other fluttery nonsense. A whole man… That particular offense rolled around in Bella’s mind. What ever could that mean?
Bella’s curiosity exploded. There was no turning back now, even if she were to get caught. Pressing her hands to the cold stone for balance, she peered just slightly around the corner of the keep to see Princess Elizabeth, hands on her hips, giving quite the dressing down to a rather handsome warrior. She wore an elegant cloak, lined as well as hemmed with furs and trimmed in gold. Though the cloak was pulled up over her hair, the moon shone on her pale skin and the few snowflakes made her appear to shimmer.
Bella shifted her gaze back to the warrior who towered over Elizabeth. He leaned up against the wall, his great plaid slung over his shoulders. His face was partially covered in shadow. She squinted her eyes, trying to make out every chiseled feature. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but she figured she must have seen him around the castle or at another event.
The warrior shifted forward, coming out of the shadows to crowd closer to the princess. Bella’s own heart leapt to think of herself in that position.
Exposing himself to the moonlight gave Bella a chance to examine him more fully. He looked whole enough to her. And much too handsome for his own good, despite the bored expression on his striking visage.
Aye, he was quite good-looking, and the way his golden-colored locks pulled free of the queue he’d attempted to tuck them in gave him a wild look. With chiseled features, albeit a slightly crooked nose, he could have been carved from stone. He towered over the princess. Was nearly as broad as he was tall. A mountain of a man. What was not whole about him? He was standing on what appeared to be two legs. Though his arms were hidden beneath a swath of plaid, they certainly looked to be attached from where she was hiding.
“Are ye calling off the engagement then?” His tone was as bored as his expression, but Bella picked up on the underlying edge of danger, which only sparked her interest more.
Who was the mysterious warrior engaged to the princess? There was definitely something about the eyes and mouth that she recognized. Where had she seen him before?
“Of course that’s what I’m saying. I need a man with two arms and—” The princess glanced most improperly in the direction of the warrior’s nether parts. “A man with a working member. I have a duty to my father and this country to reproduce.”
Heat suffused Bella’s face. Had she heard correctly? Was the princess accusing the warrior of not being able to…? Oh, goodness… To be unable to lie with a woman? To…have children?
Not having two arms was not a bother for Bella, and not being able to lie with a woman was even better. Was it serendipity that she’d happened to eavesdrop on this most private conversation? Well, it wasn’t as if they’d chosen to have it behind closed doors. No matter that they were hidden around the side of the castle from the rest of the guests, they were out in the open where anyone might hear. Aye, this was not a simple case of eavesdropping at all. She’d just happened to stumble upon this most…intriguing conversation.
Not to mention opportune…
If the princess was going to break off her betrothal to this man, Bella was more than happy to scoop him up. He was perfect. Exactly what she was looking for in a spouse.
“Ye seem to be forgetting one thing, Princess,” the warrior sneered. “The alliance between my house and yours.”
The princess scoffed, crossed her arms over her ample bosom and tapped her foot. “Ye canna tell me that ye want this marriage.”
“I’d be lying if I told ye so.”
“Then let us part ways. We shall confront my father together.”
The warrior’s expression lit up, and he pushed off the wall, standing taller than he’d appeared before, if possible. He could rival the tower of Dunrobin itself. “I have a better idea.”
The princess’s tapping foot increased its pace. “Well, out with it then.”
“My brother just so happens to be looking for a bride, and I promise ye, he is whole in every way.”
The princess stopped tapping her foot and glanced up, intrigued. Was it just Bella, or did the warrior’s plan seem contrived? Bella narrowed her eyes, studying him. Aye, he was not at all upset about the breaking of the betrothal and was all but tossing his brother at the princess.
Bella frowned. Perhaps he was like her and did not wish to marry, which meant if she were to propose it to him, he might not be amenable to the idea. That would mess up everything. He was perfect for her. Even if she didn’t know who he was, everything about him was what she needed in a husband.
Well, no bother. Was she not the best matchmaker in all of Sutherland? Perhaps Scotland? She could make a match for herself without issue. And perhaps his desire not to wed would be the perfect angle to go about it. Then again, her father held sway with the king. Perhaps she’d not have to say anything at all.
“Bella?” Speak of the devil…
“Da!” She whirled around and tossed herself into her father’s massive arms, breathing in his familiar comforting scent and then gazing up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
Magnus Sutherland’s dark hair was also pulled back in a queue, and like the warrior who appeared oblivious to the cold, her father wore only his plaid, no cloak, to ward off the winter weather. Dark-gray eyes assessed her suspiciously. He grinned, letting her know she was caught, and that he was amused by it. “Who were ye spying on?” he whispered, making an exaggerated movement to peer around her, as though he would join in with her.
Eavesdropping was yet another talent she’d well-honed. Her Aunt Heather was a master eavesdropper and had often given lessons to Bella whenever she visited.
Bella held back a grin. Saints, couldn’t she get away with anything? “No one, Da.” She tugged at his shoulder, trying to hold him back, afraid the princess and her mysterious warrior would take notice.
Magnus narrowed his eyes, and his grin widened. “Perhaps, I’ll have a closer look myself.”
“Nay.” Bella pressed her hand to his chest, bit her lip and then whispered, “A warrior. He’s just been discarded by Princess Elizabeth. I dinna want them to know I heard such a mortifying exchange.”
Her father scowled, peering toward the walls of the castle. “Discarded?”
Seeing as how her father may misconstrue what she meant and think the princess had a lover, Bella was quick to e
xplain, “Her betrothed, Da, nothing nefarious. She’s just now broken off an engagement with him in favor of his brother.”
Magnus raised a brow, studying Bella’s face. “Oh? ’Tis not one of your stories, is it?”
Not yet, she almost said. Instead, she kept her face as serious as the conversation warranted. “Aye, ’tis the truth. And, Da…” She chewed her lip, staring at the pin holding his plaid in place trying to figure out just how to phrase her proposal.
“Ye wish to marry him.” ’Twas not a question.
How had he known? Bella jerked her gaze up to meet her father’s, her face hot as the rocks that warmed her feet in bed at night. Perhaps Bella was not as inconspicuous as she wanted to be. Though her father always seemed to read her so easily. He claimed it was because she was so much like her Aunt Heather, a hellion in the Sutherland household from the time she was born to this very day. Bella had always taken that as a compliment.
She nodded, sighed. “Aye.”
“Do ye even know his name?” Her father sounded skeptical now.
Drat! She knew there was something she was missing. She shook her head.
“And why would ye want to marry him?”
“He is handsome.” She shrugged, winged a brow hoping that would do the trick.
Magnus only scowled. “I know ye better than that, my sweet.”
Thinking quick on her toes, since her true reasons the earl would never find valid or understand, Bella said, “If he was good enough for the king’s daughter, then he should be good enough for me.”
“Och, but she has just discarded him. ’Haps her reasons for doing so should be considered by ye, lass.”
Bella pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest petulantly. “She is a fool.” Bella meant it. The man was handsome, well built, and it would appear he came from a good family. Just because he was missing an arm and unable to perform… Well, she supposed she could see why Princess Elizabeth might not have wanted to marry him for the latter reason. But that was perfect for Bella. She’d be happy not to have him perform those duties with her.
