"He did not invite me," she retorted, simply.
"Surely the queen would insist on yer presence."
"He made constant excuse."
"Did ye travel elsewhere with him?"
It was as if he'd made a joke.
"Nay."
"And left you widowed at two-and-twenty, still maiden."
Did he ridicule her? She turned in petulance to search his face for any hint of it, and found his eyes would be giving nothing away.
This lass was the same age as himself and his twin sister and he could no' think what different existences they had led in those years. His sister had been much better treated, and her no' even marrying a knight.
His tone changed to a kindlier one, and he said, "No much of a life for ye, was it, lass?"
Elinor could defend herself against anger and mockery, but the chieftain's perceptive remark was her undoing.
Alain had never wanted her. He’d bribed the peephole priest, slept beside her throughout their wedding night for appearances' sake in front of the servants, and left at the dawn to go to his lover. Each brief visit home had brought the same rejection, no matter how many enticements she tried.
And she remembered this MacKrannan in his room, in the warmth of the fireglow, lifting long strands of her hair and marvelling aloud at its color and scent, looking down at her with those piercingly dark eyes as he becalmed her for their coupling...
She rose from the chair and turned away lest he see her distress, and was fumbling for a kerchief when his voice came from somewhere overhead.
"Why now?" he asked quietly.
Elinor told a partial truth. "I would not have my late husband's memory nor his family shamed by my state when I wed the Earl of Maxton. Please! It must never be known that our marriage was chaste, I beg you."
"Like that, was it..." Alain Douglas had no ballocks in battle, and apparently none for use at home either. "There's men aplenty would have been pleased to oblige ye. Why was there need for deception when ye could have been taken abed in honesty?"
Ranald had confused her now, and there was only so much that she could tell him. She moved away to look out at the waves rise and slump beneath the little window. The sailors had set out fish lures to catch sea birds, and she watched as a gannet swooped in expectance of the fine prize on open offer – only to find its beak skewered to the floating board the fish was nailed upon.
She'd fallen into much the same trap herself. Pleading for release would do as much good as the gannet's squawking.
The boat lurched, and Elinor heard a thud, followed by a muttered "Hell's pit… is every sailor a midget that they build boats so?" followed by a polite request.
"Elinor… I would be thankful if ye would sit down with me."
She turned to see that his head was pushed forward by the low ceiling of the cabin, and those immensely long legs placed apart to keep his balance upright in the boat's swaying. When he took her arm this time it was with the gentleness she'd first known, and she sat with him on the berth.
Her hand disappeared in between his two calloused paws as he rubbed the shaking away.
"You'd best tell me it all, aye?"
"No! There's no need..."
Women… How could this chit think to share her body like that, yet keep back her speech? "We must sort this between us. There is much to discuss."
"Why? It is done!"
"It is no' done at all. My bairn could be on ye now."
Was that all his fret? For the first, her answer came easily. "Maxton will be deemed any bairn's sire," she said decisively.
"Ye jest, surely. He is small and fair of head and will expect his get to be likewise. He has sons and grandsons already his image. I would no' envy your task in explaining a lad that looks like Roddy."
She flinched at his truth. There was no mistaking Roddy’s father to be a MacKrannan.
"…And what if Maxton hears we have been abed? Do ye no' realise the position you have put me in, Elinor? I'm a wee bit busy to go fighting an honor duel with yer next husband, just for doing the work of yer last. Maxton's no' the worst of it, either. Have ye thought what the king would do to us if he found out?"
She was dumbfounded at the possible scenario, and pulled her hand away as if scalded. But imagination was as far as it would go, surely. No-one would ever know... would they?
She breathed deeply before saying, "The women's talk at the Swordmaker's wedding was of the MacKrannan brothers, and they said none ever talked of them afterwards. Never. At court or at home, my shame would be known to all within the hour."
"Aye... well... Sir Thommas's tuition on the matter went far beyond the act. There's none will hear it from me, lest for necessity."
"They have already! You spoke out in front of my guard!"
"It bade ye come on the boat. They heard nothing."
"Then it is done and forgotten."
Forgotten as quick as that? Godsakes, he must have been well out of practise, right enough. "There is a suspicion that something is afoot. Many of my clansfolk could no' look me in the eye."
"You have told it out!"
"Only to my parents, for my own protection, and they would certainly say to none. But Ginny the maid knows fine, for she is cousin to the Swordmaker’s bride who left the castle virgin."
"That proves only that you did not perform the Lord's Right after all."
"Ginny changed my bedsheets herself to hide the evidence while we were at Hall. She knows. Do ye think a virgin's blood on my bed is no' a recognizable sight in the wedding season?"
The woman had the grace to blush, at least.
"...And what of yer own maid? Ye could no' have managed yer own dressing so quick without her and still reached the supper table afore me. See, I now count six of us that know. Nay, seven, for I cannot have Ginny keep such a secret from my steward Dougall who is betrothed to her and loyal to me. I will tell him myself if she has no' done so already. Plenty more will work it out for themselves."
"I chose you for your discretion. None will hear of this."
"Discretion, ye say – was that all ye knew of me?"
"I thought a stranger the simpler arrangement. We had yet to meet, if you recall. I might not have liked you."
Ranald turned his head aside, sniggering at her gall.
"I cannot think what you find amusing!" she scowled. "I tell all this only under threat of the Scold's Bridle, and now you dare to laugh?"
"Ach, that bridle is but an ornament. The dairymaid that wore it died some years past and it has hung at its leisure since. A fine deterrent, though. There's no' been a MacKrannan woman misused her tongue in a long, long time."
The nerve of the man! She need have told him nothing.
"I like you not at all for tricking me!"
"Ye're a fine one to talk of trickery, Elinor Keirston."
In her lay a pulsing remembrance of the previous day, and a little sadness that not even such a renowned chieftain could be trusted. He seemed to think the deed nothing, no doubt amongst countless similar. All he minded was knowing her reasons and keeping it secret from Maxton and the king.
"Have your merriment! I care not!" she snapped. "My affliction is now relieved, I thank you."
The captain called down that they neared MacKrannan Castle. Ranald took a deep breath, and the cabin seemed to fill with his massive chest and shoulders.
"Well, lass, it matters none if you like me," he said gruffly, "As long as ye like the Earl of Maxton. And ye've at least learned a little of what he'll expect of a woman wed three years."
"A little? What more is there?"
He cocked a brow down at her puzzled stare and imagined the ways. The lass in her innocence must think a quick coupling would be all required of her. Ach, she'd fooled him into believing her experienced enough and could fool Maxton too, though he was not sure why it displeased him to think of her with the man.
"Had ye stayed a while longer ye would have begun to find out," he said, turning to look out the
window as the boat docked at MacKrannan harbor. "And we seem to have a more urgent problem awaiting. My parents are coming aboard."
The captain’s cabin was only just large enough to accommodate both Elinor and himself, and the Chief and Agatha could hardly squeeze in.
"We caught one of her guard heading east, but his comrade got away," said Sir Thommas, watching his son’s face go pale. "That two are in Maxton’s pay, not Elinor’s. They know, Ranald. Her maid told all that yer trip on the boat must be bride-stealing because her mistress had been abed with ye last eve. The clan would no' believe ye'd take a widow to wife, but there's nobody could deny ye would bed a bonnie lass. The whole castle and village and all is buzzing with it."
"Elinor will deny it, as will I," said Ranald.
The MacKrannans were stunned by the feisty look of determination come upon Elinor's face. "And who would believe it anyway when all at court heard the king promise me to Maxton?"
The Lady Agatha turned the Lady Elinor rather firmly towards the door, muttering, "Have ye the slightest notion of the trouble ye've caused, and two of my sons in Maxton's army? What were ye thinking of to do such a thing?"
Elinor was cornered, and the stress of it all made her come out fighting.
"I was thinking of my PEOPLE!" she bawled, fists balled at her sides.
Thommas and Agatha were taken aback. The young Lady Elinor had wandered about their castle like a visiting adornment, and here was sign of some gumption and much worthier character. She was right. Responsibility to the clansfolk was everything, and the MacKrannans took that burden very seriously.
Ranald spoke for them all. "Yer motive was honorable, then. Let it go now, Elinor. We'll get it sorted."
"Ye heard me, Ranald," said Sir Thommas. "One of Maxton's men is headed east to report to the king. Ye do realise what hangs in the balance here?"
Ranald scrubbed a hand over his face. "Aye… my neck on a gibbet rope. I will tell the king the truth for he knows I have never done otherwise. And it will have to be the whole truth, with Elinor's reasons, else she will also be punished for her betrayal of Maxton. First one of ye up the steps, shout Dougall to saddle my horse."
The king left Ranald cooling his heels near a full day before summoning him into his private chamber. The guards who had surrounded Ranald since his arrival were left outside the door, a good sign. Wine was drunk, and the detail of the Cambel uprising thoroughly discussed. Luck for Ranald that it had been a victory, for the king seemed in reasonable mood.
"Let's be having it, MacKrannan. Of all the women in Scotland that you could have taken abed, why the Lady Elinor? The queen is rather upset, as you can imagine."
"Sire, ye have me at a disadvantage, for I dinna know what story ye have been told. Beg yer pardon, but if ye could tell me what the gossip is, I could fill in the truth."
The king fixed a beady eye on Ranald. "I am told by her guard that you arrived back from battling the Cambels and had her in your bed within the hour, despite never having met her before then. Your reputation at court precedes you, sadly, such speed of conquest not being unknown. However, given that Elinor was already betrothed at my command to Maxton…"
The king let that hover, awaiting an explanation that had better be an exceedingly good one.
Ranald realized that actually was the truth, but it needed augmentation. "Sire, I did no' meet the Lady Elinor until suppertime. I thought it our Swordmaker's bride in my bed, for the Lord's Right, but she was gone from the castle and Elinor taken her place."
The king frowned, but did not move, which was a hopeful sign.
"…No' to speak ill of the dead, Sire, but were ye much acquaint with her husband, Sir Alain Douglas?"
A grunt came, another hopeful sign.
Ranald gave the news that he knew would affect much more than the state of Elinor's maidenhead.
"Sire, their marriage was never consummated. Lady Elinor had need to rectify her maiden state before her wedding night with Maxton, for the sake of her people, and to keep shame off the Douglases. She did no' invite my co-operation on the matter first. As I have said, it was my belief the woman in my bed was the Swordmaker's bride. I was no' introduced to the Lady Elinor until suppertime at Hall."
The king's mouth twitched, then widened as his great belly moved and he started to laugh loud and long.
"A surprise on the menu for you there, MacKrannan, eh?" he said, and bellowed all the more.
Ranald dare not join in the mirth, but sat smiling wryly and waiting for the king to make judgement.
"We must take pity, for her reasoning was sound," said the king eventually. "It is common knowledge that Alain Douglas married the dowry and not the woman, for it is also common knowledge that his preferences lay in buggering any man that would lift his shirt tail for him. Unconsummated, you say… that is serious. You are absolutely sure?"
"I have done duty in the Lord's Right often enough to be certain of it, Sire. Elinor was virgin, and the evidence on the bedsheets."
"Hmmph. Alain Douglas's testament left all of Fordnethan and Keirston to her, yet it seems she has no legal right to as much as a widow's share. And she would need to prove her virgin state even to reclaim her dowry lands at Keirston. Too late for that now, MacKrannan! Eh? Eh?"
Ranald was unsure if reply was expected, or if he was supposed to join in the mirth this time. He played safe.
"Too late indeed, as ye say, Sire," he mumbled.
The king, ever seeking a remedy of national benefit, clucked his cheek. "Our priority here must be the protection of the Borders. I shall forfeit both Fordnethan and Keirston to the crown and award them to Maxton. He must be appeased. What say you on that?"
Elinor was to lose everything. What could he say, except for the usual sycophantic claptrap expected by all kings from their loyal subjects…
"Your Majesty's wisdom has never failed Scotland."
"And that leaves us with the problem of the Lady Elinor, who is homeless forthwith."
The king stood up, and Ranald followed him, but the audience was not quite at an end. A companionable arm came around Ranald's shoulder as they walked across the chamber.
"Your brothers are already removed from Maxton's contingent, lest there be retribution for your actions, and they will serve at court instead. I sent for them this morn, upon news that you had come to me without need for summons. They journey here as we speak."
That was a bloody relief. "I thank ye most sincerely for that, Sire, on behalf of all my family."
But the king had not quite finished.
With well-rehearsed timing come from many years of reign, he waited until Ranald was half out the door before adding, "…and MacKrannan, you will wed the Lady Elinor immediately upon your return. Proclamation will be made this day that her change of betrothed is By Royal Command. Take some time away from your duties. Let the fuss die down, eh? Send for her personal belongings and get her settled in at MacKrannan Castle. My regards to Sir Thommas and your dear mother."
Ranald left court with royal letters in his saddlebag and a heavy heart in his chest. The king had traded his life for a wife, with no idea that his fix-all remedy had spawned another problem.
"Forfeit to the crown… granted to the Earl of Maxton… wed Ranald, chieftain of…" Elinor fanned her face with the parchment, the only use she could find for the damnable missive.
She was back in Ranald's bedchamber, sitting fully clothed in the chair from whence events had taken these convoluted turns hardly a week past. He had spent most of the intervening time on horseback between castle and court. She had spent the time worrying what future the king would grant her.
"So His Majesty has taken all my lands. I have no dowry… nothing. And I am not to be a Countess, but a chieftain's wife."
Ranald stood staring out the window in the disconsolate way, a shoulder against the frame and eyes that saw nothing but his thoughts. He had no intention of undressing either one of them during this second visit of Elinor to his bedchamber.
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br /> "No' even that. Ye'll be wed to the chieftain's elder brother, for I must concede my position. Our clan has some strange Traditions, Elinor. They go back centuries and cannot be changed to suit the circumstance of one chieftain. All men of the bloodline must marry virgins, especially the man born to be Chief of the Name of MacKrannan."
Elinor raced to his side. "But they cannot take away your heritage like this! I was virgin until you!"
"It is insufficient," he said, turning to her. "The bloodline's brides must be virgins on their wedding day, for there is a Tradition named the 'Coupling', a witnessed event in which yer blood must be seen. It is too late, lass."
Considering the disaster befallen each of them, Ranald was confused at the swelling below his kilt that seemed to come upon him whenever he met her eye, or spoke with her, or held her hand.
Was it the scent of her? That summery perfume after years of battleblood and comrade’s sweat? Surely it could no' be that, for he'd had plenty of sweet-smelling women in his time. Yet none had come close to the fragrance of this Elinor Keirston with her hair new-washed and a twinkle in her eye. That sparkle was now born from tears of hopelessness, for their dealings since the Lord's Right had taken place in this very room had been little but mistrust and argument.
"Surely if you explain to His Majesty?"
"Nay. All our Traditions are kept secret. I only tell ye of this one because we must wed on the morn. Ye are in here without chaperone because it makes little difference now."
She turned away, but he took her hand.
"Elinor, I came to find ye first for it is yerself has lost the most, even for all yer good motive. I still have my family and my clan, and they will be yours now also."
"How kind…"
"No' really. They are all ye will have. My brother Connor will be recalled from his post in Ireland to be chieftain and I will be sent there in his stead. Ye may as well settle in here at the castle, for the garrison has no married quarters and the region is no place for any woman. It is a year since my brother was let home. I canna say it will be any different for me, even when wedded. Come, we must go to the Chief with our letters from the king."
Duty of the Chieftain - a Highland 'Lord's Right of the First Night' novella (Clan MacKrannan's Secret Traditions #3) Page 4
