by Lynsay Sands
"Husband?"
Duncan grimaced. She should not be allowed to call him that. The marriage was not consummated. But he could hardly take her to task for it in front of the stablemaster. "Nay, he went to talk to a crofter. What be ye wantin'?"
Duncan heard Iliana sigh unhappily. What was she so put out about? He was the one being denied his rights.
"I don't have all day, wench," he snapped, then paused and forced a smile for the stablemaster's benefit. "What be ye needin'?"
"I was told that the spice merchant crossed our land this morn?"
"Aye."
"Well, we have no spices and I wondered if 'twould be possible to send a messenger after the merchant, requesting that he stop here ere he moves on," Iliana blurted.
Duncan shook his head. So, here was another change she wished to instigate. A fine and expensive change that would be. He had not known the spice man to stop here in all his memory. Now she thought he should. He would not have it. "We need no spices. And I'll not be wastin' a man on sendin' him on such a fool errand."
Iliana opened her mouth on a protest, but he turned abruptly and headed away.
An hour later, Duncan was crossing the bailey toward the keep when the stablemaster came charging up, calling after him urgently. "Me laird! Thank the saints! I been lookin' fer ye all this past hour and could find ye nowhere."
"What is it, Rabbie?" Duncan frowned at the man's obvious distress.
"Yer wife, me laird. She rode out right after ye left us."
"Rode out? What mean ye, she rode out? Rode out where?"
"After the spice merchant. Alone."
Cursing, Duncan turned toward the stables. "Fool woman. She kens nothing about this land or its dangers. I doubt she even kens in which direction McInnes land is."
"I pointed out the direction," Rabbie admitted reluctantly. When his laird turned a furious expression on him, he shrugged helplessly. "She ordered me to tell her. She is chatelaine here now, me laird. I tried to convince her not to go, but she is fair stubborn."
Duncan grimaced over that and strode into the stables to fetch his mount. Moments later, he was heading out of the bailey.
Scotland was a wild and lovely land. Unfortunately, it was also damned confusing. Determined to have the spices the keep needed, Iliana had started out very confident as she had left Dunbar. The stablemaster had pointed out the direction toward Innes land and she had thought she would have no problem finding it when she left. She had thought wrong. It had been close to an hour since she had left the keep and she was no longer even sure she was still heading in the direction in which he had pointed. Nor was she sure in which direction she should go to return home.
Bringing her mount to a halt, Iliana peered about. All there was to see were trees, rolling green hills, and craggy cliffs. They all looked the same. Nothing looked the least familiar, but then why should it? She was a stranger here. Deciding she would get nowhere by sitting about, Iliana urged her horse forward again, but after another hour of riding, she decided she'd best stop and take the lay of the land again.
She was just slowing her mount to do so when men began dropping from the trees around her. A startled scream slipped from her throat, but then her attention was forced to her mount as the mare began to rear beneath her. Before Iliana could regain control of the animal, one of the men did so for her, grabbing the reins and tugging her back to all fours, then murmuring soothingly to the beast as he eyed her.
Nibbling viciously at her lower lip, Iliana peered at the men surrounding her. There were six of them altogether. Tall, grim-looking men who were eyeing her in a most unfriendly manner. Were they from Innes? She hoped so.
The man holding her reins said something in Gaelic and Iliana frowned as the gobbledygook of words hit her ears. She forced a polite smile. "'Tis sorry I am to admit it, but I fear I have not learned your language yet."
There was silence as he absorbed her accent, then he murmured, "A Sassenach?"
"Aye." Iliana managed a smile. "I am Iliana of Wildwood, the new wife of Duncan Dunbar, and you, I hope, are of the McInnes clan?"
There was a moment as the men all shared surprised glances, then the speaker nodded slowly. "If ye be o' Dunbar, what be ye doin' ridin' about on yer own? And why're ye on Innes land?"
So they were Innes men. She had gone the right way after all. "I apologize for coming without an invitation, but 'twas quite important. You see, I have only been at Dunbar for a few days and the cook told me that we had no spices; then Giorsal said that the spice merchant had crossed our land this morn on his way to Innes. It seems he gave up coming by Dunbar because Laird Angus was never home to make a purchase when he called."
Realizing that she was babbling, Iliana paused and forced a pained smile. "At any rate, I feared he might not be by again for months, and we are in dire need of his goods, so I thought to ride over and see if I could persuade him to stop by ere he moves on. After finishing his business with you, of course," she added on a winsome smile.
"And Dunbar agreed to this?" The man looked quite doubtful at the idea.
Iliana phrased her answer carefully. "Well, now...You see, my new father-in-law was away from the keep at the time, visiting crofters or some such thing. And my husband claimed to be too busy for such a task...If you see what I mean?"
"Aye." His lips quirked upward. "Ye mean ye dinna tell him ye were acomin'."
Iliana colored slightly but only gave a wry grimace and a shrug as response.
His amusement apparent, the man murmured something in Gaelic, then led her horse forward. The other men followed at once. "We'll take ye to the keep."
"Thank you," Iliana murmured as they moved into a clearing where six horses waited. Still holding on to her reins, the man mounted his horse and set out in the direction in which she had been heading.
Worrying her lip, Iliana held on to her mare's mane and peered at the silent, solemn men about her. They had not actually said they were McInnes men. Actually, whether they were or not might not be a good thing anyway. She had never thought to ask if the Dunbars got along with their neighbors. What if the Dunbars were at war with the McInneses?
Now was a brilliant time to think of that, she scolded herself, then supposed she would know soon enough. If they were McInneses they would take her to the McInnes keep. Otherwise, they would take her to another keep. And, if they were feuding with the Dunbars, she would most likely be shackled up and ransomed off to her husband. If he paid for her. If they even did things like that here. Mayhap they just kept you.
'Twas not long after running into the men that a keep came into view. Iliana relaxed then, for it could be none other than the McInnes keep. They had not traveled long enough to have reached another clan's keep, she hoped. She was distracted from that thought when one of the men broke away from the group and rode ahead. Probably with the news of her arrival, she realized, and began to fret anew over whether the Dunbars were presently feuding with the McInneses.
Before she could work herself up over that worry too much, they had reached the castle walls. She found herself being led into the bailey and directly up to the steps where what appeared to be the lord and lady of the manor waited to greet her.
Judging by their welcoming smiles, the McInneses were not presently feuding with the Dunbars. Iliana relaxed again and smiled as her horse was brought to a halt.
Lord and Lady McInnes were somewhere in their fifties. The man's hair was salt and pepper, but surely once had been a mantle of pure ebony. Of average height, but well-formed, he was quite attractive. Iliana returned his smile briefly, then turned to his wife. Her hair was fairer, a medium brown with a mere fleck of blue-gray here and there. She was also quite lovely. Iliana stared in bemusement at the smiling woman, then glanced down as one of the men moved to her side to help her dismount.
"Me lady, 'tis a pleasure to meet ye!"
Once again on her feet, Iliana whirled to meet the owner of that bluff, cheerful voice. "Lord McInnes." She gave a sligh
t curtsy. "Lady McInnes."
"When was the weddin'?" Lord McInnes asked curiously.
"Three days ago."
"I am sorry we missed it." There was a miffed quality to Lady MacInnes's voice as she said that, and Iliana offered an apologetic smile.
"'Tis most likely my fault. I suspect we arrived earlier than expected. And the wedding was held a mere hour after our arrival."
Lady McInnes blinked. "But we did not even ken Duncan planned on amarryin'."
Iliana shifted uncomfortably. "Well, that would be my fault as well. You see, he married me to save me from my stepfather, and to help save my mother from him as well. 'Twas arranged quickly."
Lady McInnes's eyebrows had risen with every word she spoke. The woman eyed Iliana with fascination. "Oh, my dear. We definitely must discuss this. Come along inside and I shall offer ye a beverage."
Chapter Six
"So ye dinna have time to be aseein' to the task yersel' and let yer wee wife come out on her own!"
Duncan drew his mount to a halt, his gaze darting around the trees until he spied Ian McInnes perched in the lowest branch of one on his left. "Ye found 'er?"
"Aye." Dropping out of the tree, Ian walked toward him and Duncan sank back in his saddle with relief.
"Ye should keep a closer eye on 'er, Duncan," Ian chastised mildly, sweeping his long black hair back from his face as he paused and peered up at where his friend sat his horse. "She's fair bonnie. Anything could have happened to her out here."
"I dinna ken she'd left 'til Rabbie found me."
"I thought it might be something like that," his friend murmured, holding out his hand.
Leaning forward, Duncan grabbed the offered hand, then sat back, pulling at the same time as the other man leapt. Between the two, they managed to bring him up onto the saddle behind him. "Where be yer mount?"
"Ahead."
Nodding, he urged his horse forward. Within moments they came across Ian's gray beast. Reining in beside the animal, he waited until his friend had slung himself off his mount and onto his own before asking, "She was a'right?"
"Right as rain. She's at the keep now, chattin' with Ma and Da," he announced, gathering his reins before straightening to eye him. "Ye dinna mention ye were aplannin' to get wed."
Duncan shrugged. "'Twas no a plan 'til just afore it happened."
"Hmm." Ian urged his horse forward, waiting until Duncan brought his mount into step with his own before saying, "She mentioned as much. How'd it come about?"
Duncan shrugged. "The English king sent a fellow up to ask me would I do it and I said I would if he would see to rectifying the situation fer Seonaid."
"That's all he needed to persuade ye?" Ian looked a bit surprised.
"That an' a dowry only a wee bit smaller than a king's ransom."
Ian grinned. "I kenned there'd be more to it. How much?"
"Not nearly enough," Duncan muttered grimly.
"Nay! Ye've only been wed a few days! Doona tell me ye be complainin' already?"
"Aye."
"Why? Wha' has she done?"
Duncan glared ahead briefly, then grumbled, "She be acleanin' the keep."
Ian burst out laughing.
"And she expects me to bathe, too."
His friend's amusement only deepened at that and Duncan glared at him irritably.
"'Tis sorry I am, friend. But ye must admit ye smell a fair bit rank right now. Should ye try huntin', the beasties'd smell ye comin' and flee fer their lives."
"'Tis June," Duncan muttered. "I always smell this way in June."
"Aye, and well I ken it, but it may have been a surprise to yer bride." He was silent for a moment, then glanced at him curiously. "I also heard yer wife atellin' me ma that the marriage was to save her from her stepda?"
"Aye. 'Tis why they searched fer a groom so far north and paid so generously. The king wished her far and away from her home in England."
"Hmm." Taking in Duncan's irritation, he murmured, "She seems a fair brave wench."
"'Tis no brave to go riding about a country ye ken nothing about. 'Tis foolish."
"Aye," Ian allowed fairly, then added, "But she showed no fear when we stopped her. The wench simply introduced herself and told us what she was about."
"That just shows she doesna even have the sense to be afraid," Duncan muttered, but had to wonder himself. Iliana was proving herself to be a bit more than he had first thought she was. The cold, prissy image he'd had of her did not fit with a lass who went charging off on her own in a foreign land in search of spices. She seemed to have one or two surprises up her sleeves...not to mention under that damn belt of chastity of hers.
"Is there something amiss, Lady Dunbar?" When Iliana merely continued to stare at the servants working across the room, Adina McInnes glanced at her husband questioningly. But he merely shrugged his own uncertainty.
Frowning, Adina turned back to the younger woman. "Lady Dunbar? Lady Dunbar!"
Iliana turned finally at the strident note in her hostess's voice, concern wrinkling her brow. Then, understanding struck and her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, you mean me? Of course! I am sorry. I fear I am not used to being called 'Lady Dunbar'." She paused, flushing brightly, and shrugged helplessly as she admitted, "'Tis the first time I have been addressed so."
Lady McInnes relaxed and laughed lightly. "Aye, 'tis fair odd to be addressed by one name all yer life, then suddenly find yersel' with a new one."
"Aye."
"Mayhap 'twould help if I addressed ye by yer given name?"
"Oh, aye. That would be fine," Iliana agreed at once. "You must call me Iliana."
"And I am Adina and my husband is Robert," Lady McInnes announced, then lifted an eyebrow. "Ye seemed preoccupied by our servants...Iliana. Is anything amiss?"
"Oh, nay. 'Tis just...Well, truthfully, I was noticing how well dressed they are." Her gaze slid around the room again, running over the impeccably clean plaids on every servant present.
"Ahhh." There was a depth of understanding in that drawn-out word. "Then no doubt ye are wondering why yer own servants are not so well garbed?"
Biting her lip, Iliana nodded reluctantly.
"Well, me dear, 'tis no from lack o' coins, I can tell ye that," Robert McInnes announced, joining the conversation. "'Tis a well-kept secret, but what with his sheep and the plaids their wool produces, yer husband is rich."
"Duncan makes plaids?" Iliana asked with surprise.
"Aye. Well, no hissel'. But his people do. They make a muckle coin from it, too, I can tell ye. They make some o' the finest plaid in Scotland."
Iliana's eyebrows raised at that. "But then why do they all dress so shabbily?"
There was silence for a minute, then Adina McInnes sighed. "My dear, there are a few myths about the Scots that ye may have heard ere coming?"
Aye, she had heard a thing or two ere coming to this land, Iliana thought wryly, but most of it was so unflattering she dared not repeat it, so merely nodded.
"Well, there is one myth in particular that says Scots are...er...cheap." Forcing a pained smile, she cleared her throat. "'Tis not true."
"Except in Duncan's case," Lord McInnis inserted with amusement.
Adina whirled on her husband in horror. "Nay, husband. He is simply very frugal."
"Hah!" Robert laughed. "Don't fret, wife. He be friend to me and would not mind me sayin' he is cheap...and cheap he is," he announced firmly with some pride. "He also be muckle rich from it. There's no doubt in me mind that he has a mountain o' coins hid somewhere. He must. Dunbar plaids sell like cow chips during a cold winter. We even buy some from him."
"Then there is his trade in protection," Adina murmured.
Iliana blinked at that. "Protection?"
Robert nodded solemnly. "Dunbar has some o' the finest warriors around. And the women are damned prolific. They breed 'em by the bushel. Duncan sorta rents them out to those in need when they can afford to hire 'em. He makes a muckle o' coins that way as wel
l."
Iliana digested this silently. She was less interested in the fact that Duncan hired himself and his men out to those in need of a strong arm than the knowledge that he actually had a plaid-making enterprise right there at Dunbar. "But if his people make the finest plaids around, then why do they all wear--" Iliana began, stopping when Lord McInnes waved the question away.
"Because he sells them all, lass. He gives his own people only one a year. At the New Year. He sells the rest."
"I see," Iliana murmured with a frown.
Adina cleared her throat. "I would like to give ye a proper welcome, lass. Mayhap ye and Duncan will honor us by staying to take sup with us?"
Iliana's eyebrows rose at that. "Oh, Duncan is not coming."
Adina arched one eyebrow, her mouth tilting in slight amusement at that. "Oh, I've no doubt he'll be along. He's hardly likely to leave his wee bride runnin' about on her own."
"Aye, well...He does not even know I am here," she confessed with a sigh.
This only seemed to amuse the older woman more. Leaning forward in her seat, she smiled gently. "My dear child, there is little, if anything, that a laird--and his son--don't ken, or learn about, here in Scotland." She paused and sat back then, a smile of satisfaction gracing her lips as the front doors burst open.
Turning, Iliana glanced toward the door and felt her heart sink. It was Duncan entering and he looked angry. Very angry. Almost rabid. Aye, he looked as if he could not wait to get her alone. Oddly enough, that simply stimulated an urge in Iliana to avoid such an occurrence.
Turning abruptly to Lady McInnes, she forced a smile and babbled, "Well, surely then if the invitation is still open, my lord husband and I would be pleased to stay for sup."
She knew she'd made a mistake the moment the words left her mouth. She could actually feel her husband's fury as he moved up behind her.
As he and Ian joined them at the table his expression promised that she would regret accepting the invitation. Sighing inwardly, Iliana listened as Ian repeated what he had learned from Duncan regarding their marriage. The news that it had been arranged to protect Iliana and her mother was not new to them, of course, but what she had not told them--quite simply because she had not known--was the exact amount of the dowry that the king had provided to ensure that the wedding took place.
