by Eliza Knight
“Aye. But I want ye to know what’s coming. No matter what, I canna do that. I have to learn to pull on my bloody shirt first.”
Walter slapped him on the back and squeezed his shoulder. “The lairdship is yours, with or without a shirt. Only thing I want is my brother back.”
Niall drew in a long, mournful breath. “I’m not sure he’s coming back. Ye’ll have to learn to deal with me, the new me.”
“New ye, old ye, still ye.”
Chapter 2
Dunrobin Castle
Spring, 1319
If there was one thing Lady Bella Sutherland loved, it was a good challenge, which was why she snuck from the castle at dawn to go down to the beach, set up a target and blindfold herself with a strip of plaid.
She was already a master archer. Had been practically all of her life. Her mother and father had both seen to her training, believing that a woman should never be left defenseless. In fact, every woman in her family had some sort of special skill. While Bella seemed to have soaked up each of those skills, her absolute favorite was archery. This was a skill she knew, well…blindfolded.
Some might say she led a charmed life, being the daughter of the Earl of Sutherland and Chieftain of the Sutherland Clan. Aye, her father was a powerful man. A legend, in fact. But she tried not to let that overshadow her own talent.
Bella felt over her shoulder for the feather fletching of her arrow and tugged it out. She nocked her arrow and tilted her head toward the sky, breathing in deeply and feeling the sun as it rose. It gave off an odd feeling of warmth in the brisk winter chill.
With every shot she took, she remembered how she’d proven her skill to everyone as a lass with that simple decision to wait a half second after her opponent, Sir Niall Oliphant. She’d not seen him since that day. Not heard much news of him, either, but she thought of him often.
He was a few years older than her. Had he grown into a handsome man? Had he retained his skill at archery? Undoubtedly. There had not been anyone that rivaled her since him. After they’d tied in the competition, everyone had asked for them to put on another archery show with challenging targets. Bella had wanted him to do so in her gown and she in his plaid, but he’d refused, and she’d not argued the point. They’d gone head-to-head for an hour or so until their arms gave out and fingers were covered in new blisters. She’d not found a suitable partner since.
She focused her energy on pulling the bowstring taut and then let go, leaving herself blindfolded and listening to the whistle of her arrow cutting through the air toward its mark.
Thunk.
She grinned and pulled another arrow from her quiver, nocked it and set her blinded sense of sight toward the target. She let go again, waited for the thunk, and repeated the move until her quiver was empty.
Only then did she tug the blindfold from her eyes and settle it at her neck to see her arrows were almost in the center of the target.
“Dretch,” she murmured.
Bella sauntered toward the target, her eyes drawn to the lapping water that flowed over the pebbles, shells and sand, creating foamy patterns at the water’s edge, only to wash them away. She paused a moment to enjoy the fresh sea-salt air, the gentle spray of water. There was something so mesmerizing about the sea. Something that drew her there again and again. In fact, when she wasn’t dragging her target down here to practice, she was sitting on the beach contemplating things like the phases of the moon and why ants worked in groups. Perhaps after she was done with practice, she’d sneak away to the part of the beach obscured from the castle and go for a swim.
After tugging her arrows from the target and refilling her quiver, Bella marched back fifty feet down the beach and then backed up another twenty-five. What was the point in challenging one’s self if it wasn’t truly a challenge? She was about to lift the blindfold back into place when she heard her name carried on the wind.
“Lady Bella!”
Tugging the cloth away from her eyes, she scanned the land behind her. One of her father’s men stood some two hundred feet away, waving his arms. Grinning mischievously, she lifted the bow without an arrow notched and pretended to shoot. He dropped to the ground, pretending to be frightened for his life, but she knew her father’s men could block anything hurtled at them. She laughed and put the blindfold back on. The game they all played with her never seemed to get old.
Ordinarily, she would not have been so disrespectful as to ignore a summons, but she had an idea of what that summons was regarding. And she didn’t want to be any part of it, so she turned back around to face her target.
Just before retiring to her chamber the night before, she’d walked past her father’s study and heard her parents discussing a suitor coming this morning. Even the word suitor left a sour boulder in her belly. She’d barely been able to sleep at the thought of what would happen. Potential grooms coming to see her was embarrassing and awkward. To have a man stand there and tell her all the reasons why he would be good for her and why she should choose him. To have him even go so far as to say why he’d chosen her. For all of them, she gave the same practiced negative response she’d been giving for years, and it was…humiliating. There had been plenty of good ones that had asked, and several she might even have said aye to if not for the one she’d been holding out for.
This was the reason she’d woken before dawn to come down to the beach to practice. She’d wanted to work off some of her angst before the inevitable, while secretly hoping no one would realize where she was and send the man away.
The sea air, the sound of the waves and the exercise often set her mind to rights, but this time it hadn’t. And until she’d seen the guard waving his arms around like a windmill, she’d almost forgotten about what was most likely going to happen today when she disappointed her mother and father once more.
Blowing out a breath, she let her arrow fly, imagining the sharpened point sinking into the very desire her suitor had to marry her. Crushing it. Obliterating it. Perhaps if she thought hard enough, if she wished most fervently, whoever he was would turn around on his noble horse and ride away.
“Lady Bella!” The guard was not going to give up.
With a sigh of frustration, Bella tugged the blindfold off and glanced his way.
“Ye’re needed at the castle.”
She waved one hand and looked away, gazing longingly down the beach. She could run. She could hide in the woods that lined the edge of the beach away from the castle walls. Or she could steal a birlinn and row herself out to sea, find some remote isle and live the rest of her days off the land. She knew how to hunt, how to fish. When she was younger, she and her brothers had even built their own shelters out of debris in the woods for fun. She could make it. Though she’d be lonely.
The sound of the guard’s heavy footfalls as he jogged toward her sounded from behind while she collected her arrows.
“I’ll get the target for ye, my lady.”
“Thank ye,” she murmured.
They walked silently back to the castle, her steps lagging just a little behind his. Why did it feel like she was marching to her death?
“In his lairdship’s study, my lady.”
Bella hesitated. “I’ll be down shortly. I just want to put these away.” She held up her bow and quiver full of arrows with a sheepish smile.
The guard kept his gaze steady, but she could practically read from his body language that he didn’t believe her. “I was told to escort ye directly, my lady.”
Bella frowned, gave a little huff and a stomp of her foot. “I am not presentable. If ye must escort me, than ye can wait.” She didn’t normally snap at the servants or her father’s men. In fact, it was so out of character for her that her father’s man stepped back. “Apologies, Sir Finley,” she said. “I but want to put this in my room and…well, I need to…um…”
His face reddened, seeming to take in her drawn-out silence for something more private. “Ye need not explain. I will put the target away and meet ye at the stairs outside your c
hamber.”
“Thank ye.” She had the forthrightness to look down with humble gratitude.
“No thanks required.”
Without dragging it out further, she nodded and hurried back into the castle. She rushed up the stairs to her chamber with her skirts lifted past her ankles and promptly slammed the door closed and barred it behind her. She was not going to go to her father’s study. Feigning a headache or vomiting ought to do the trick. Or maybe she should pretend to have spots. A rare fever.
“I thought you might do that.”
Bella whirled around to see her mother sitting on the cushioned bench by the window. “Mama.”
“I trust you had a good morning on the beach?” Voice soft and distinctly English, Lady Arbella, Countess of Sutherland, nodded toward the bow and quiver full of arrows. Her golden hair, streaked with white strands that only made her hair shine, was braided into a crown around her head. Laugh lines framed her eyes and mouth. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman Bella had ever seen, not that she was biased by any means.
“Aye.” Bella opened her wardrobe and placed her weaponry on the special hooks that had been designed for them.
Her mother’s smile was soft, sympathetic and full of love. She’d never been anything but warm, gentle and supportive of Bella.
“Am I to understand you are hiding from your father?”
Bella pursed her lips and marched toward her window to stare outside over the moors.
“Ah, I take by your silence you also hoped to avoid me.”
Bella whirled around. “I know what this is about.”
“Do you?”
“Aye. Another suitor.”
Arbella nodded, her eyes crinkling at the sides.
“Mama, I dinna want to see another suitor. I want to stay here with ye. The entire process is humiliating and ye know I will only deny the man.”
“I used to feel the same way.” She smiled nostalgically. “But you’re one and twenty, long past the time we should have seen to your future. Meet him first before you decide his fate.”
“Please, Mama. Give me more time before ye make me marry.” A lifetime in order to avoid the inevitable tying down, the taming, and the disappointment when her future husband realized she would not birth him children.
Her mother gazed into her eyes, studying her. Softly, she touched Bella’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful, clever, so kind and gentle, and yet you have a warrior’s heart.”
Bella smiled. “Da says I am the perfect combination of ye both.”
The countess’s smile broadened. “I believe he is right.”
“Please, Mama,” she whispered. “Send the suitor away.”
“I want you to meet him first. If you are not satisfied, we will send him away.”
“Promise?” No matter how appealing the man was, even if he gifted her with a golden bow, she would turn him away. Bella could never marry, else her entire family would face the inevitable humiliation when her groom sent her back home.
“Aye, my sweet darling girl.”
Bella embraced her mother and breathed in the subtle floral scent of her hair, felt the warmth of her body. Her mother never changed.
“I love ye, Mama.”
The countess tugged gently on Bella’s long braid. “I love you, too, dear one.”
Her mother waited as Bella freshened up, and then they ascended the stairs together with Sir Finley behind them.
In her father’s study was a large golden-haired warrior with brown eyes that held a spark of mischief.
“My lady.” He bowed low, then stood and flashed her a friendly smile.
Bella nodded but did not curtsy. She never curtsied to the men her da introduced her to. It was her subtle attempt at keeping control and letting whoever sought her hand know she was not a simpering lass willing to drop to her knees and declare her willingness to obey for the rest of her days.
The warrior’s smile did not dim. In fact, he seemed to hold back a bit of a laugh and continued to look at her with appreciation. That was different. She wanted to like him, but that didn’t matter. In the end, she would always say nay.
“I am Sir Walter Oliphant.”
Unbidden, her eyes widened. Oliphant? As in Niall Oliphant? She searched his face for any traces of the lad she’d once known, and while there was a likeness, she recalled vividly the green of Niall’s eyes. Walter’s were distinctly brown. He wasn’t Niall, but he could be his brother.
“I am glad to make your acquaintance, Sir Walter.” Bella smiled, though she was certain the gesture did not equate to happiness. How many times had she wished to walk through this door and see Sir Niall there?
From behind his desk, her father came to stand beside his wife. The Earl of Sutherland was still handsome, though he was nearing fifty summers. His black hair was still full of luster, though shot with silver now. Because he continued to actively train with his men, he was thick as a tree and as strong as a boulder.
“We shall leave the two of ye for a moment.”
Bella started to interrupt, to say it would not be necessary, but her father cleared his throat and gave her a look that said she’d best at least listen before she said nay. She shot her mother a worried plea-filled gaze. Lady Arbella nodded encouragingly, then they were both gone. All Bella could do was pray her mother was speaking to her father about the promise she’d made.
As soon as the door closed, Bella folded her hands in front of her, met Sir Walter’s gaze head on and said, “Sir Walter, while I appreciate—”
“My lady, before ye reject me outright, allow me to plead my case.”
She winged a brow, speechless. No one had ever interrupted her before.
“Perhaps I am a fool for having come, as I know there have been many men before me that have asked for your hand, but if I didna, then I’d always wonder at what ye might have said.”
Bella searched for a more sincere way to turn him down than by simply saying, Nay, and thank ye for trying.
“Perhaps ye fear that a husband will not let ye continue your pursuits, but I assure ye, I would be amenable to such things. In all the Highlands, ye and your sisters are the most eligible maidens. The most beautiful. The most clever. I would be a fool not to ask.”
Bella drew in a deep breath. “Ye flatter me unnecessarily, sir.”
“I have admired ye since the very first day I met ye.”
“And when was that?”
Was it the day she’d met his brother?
“At Stirling, ’haps two years back when your father met with King Robert and the other lairds of the north.”
Bella nodded. She didn’t recall meeting him at all. However, she did remember searching for Niall and feeling foolish because she’d not seen him since he was a wee lad, and lads changed so much when they became men. Alas, she hadn’t found him.
Was Walter one of the lads who’d taunted her at that tournament all those years ago?
“As I said, ye flatter me unnecessarily, sir. While I find your proposal to be better than most, I must humbly refuse.”
Walter’s face grew red. “Refuse?”
“Aye.”
“Why?”
Och, why could they never be gentlemanly about it? It wasn’t like she set out to bruise their egos, but bruised they’d be all the same with her rejecting them.
“I am…in love with another,” she said, squaring her shoulders.
At that, Walter’s face grew all the redder, and he sputtered with embarrassment. “I see.”
How would he feel if she told him it was his brother she’d loved since she was nine years old?
“May I ask ye a question?” Bella cocked her head in curiosity.
Sir Walter looked ready to refuse her request, but after a moment’s pause he nodded.
“Do ye recall a children’s tournament here at our castle?”
He looked at her thoughtfully.
“I think it was perhaps a dozen years ago.” Och, but she knew exactly how long ag
o. Had etched the memory on her heart, but she wasn’t about to confess that much.
“Aye, there was a lass. A right arrogant one, too…” He trailed off, eyes widening. So, he had been one of the lads to taunt her.
“That was…ye?”
“Aye.”
Walter’s eyes widened even more, some hint of knowledge sparking in them. “And the man ye’re in love with?”
Bella folded her arms over her chest, safeguarding the truth of that statement in her heart. “None of your concern.”
He nodded knowingly. “I understand now, and I am not offended at your refusal. But I should let ye know, he is betrothed to another.”
How could he have seen so easily through her? And why did she feel as though that truth crushed her painfully, like she’d taken one of her own arrows and pierced her heart with it.
“If ye should change your mind,” he mused. “I will not be seeking another bride for some months, in order to heal from this setback.” He winked to let her know it did not truly bother him, but that he was merely giving her a chance to change her mind.
Bella tried to smile at him, letting her arms fall away from their crossed position, but there was only sadness inside her. “Dinna wait too long, sir, for I willna change my mind.”
She would have never been able to accept Niall if he’d been the one to come asking for her hand, and yet, the disappointment of knowing he never would caused her pain all over again. Since she was a lass, she’d dreamed of him riding into the bailey at Dunrobin, leaping from his horse and demanding the hand of his knight.
Whatever fantasy she’d created and built up, worshiped, for all these years had been just that. Pretend. Unrealistic.
“I thank ye for the pleasure of your acquaintance,” she murmured.
“And I ye, my lady. Whoever ye do decide to accept will be a lucky man.”
Bella nodded once more, unwilling to contradict him, eyes burning with the need to shed tears of mourning for a treasure lost.
In the corridor, she could hear Sir Walter saying his goodbyes to her parents and the regretful tone in her father’s voice. Before they could come in and question her reasoning for this refusal, she hurried toward the secret door and clicked the latch that would help her disappear into the castle walls.
