Alex came out the door, waiting not far from him.
DeFry strode directly to him while the priest went past him to greet Alex. “Look, I’m sorry for what you had to go through, but as a spy for the Scots, I had to pretend to go along with them.”
Drostan’s temper flared, but then he reminded himself that Chrissa had said the voice she’d heard was not DeFry’s.
Alex joined him while Father Dowall went inside. “You took part in my granddaughter’s kidnapping. If you wish to take another step, you’ll explain yourself now. Otherwise, I’ll have you flayed for your part in it.” Some of the rage slipped out of his expression. “I must admit, I suspect there’s more to the story than I heard, so I’m offering you this one opportunity to tell the truth. Don’t be foolish and abuse it.”
DeFry looked earnest, although he’d appeared as such during his interrogations of Drostan. “I was spying, but for the Scots. I’m the one who went to Alasdair and told him they’d been set free and they could head to Gallow Hill. I knew they’d be needed there. Believe me, I didn’t know anything about his mother. Percy brought me in after he’d made his plans with her and another man. He trusted me, though he shouldn’t have. But he got his just due.”
The words ran of truth, and yet…
Alex turned to Drostan. “What say you?”
“I’m not sure what to think. He was there, but Chrissa insisted the voice she heard belonged to someone else.”
“I allowed them to escape. I left the door unlocked,” DeFry pressed, his face covered in sweat. “I even left their weapons and horses out for them.”
Alex looked to Drostan for confirmation, and he nodded. “True. Everything felt much too convenient. I thought we were being set up because it was so easy. Percy followed us with two of his goons, but DeFry was not there. No one else came for us.”
“So who was working with your mother?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I have my suspicions.”
They looked to DeFry, who shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not certain either. I wasn’t involved in their conversations, but I know there’s a third person. I have my suspicions, too. I fear he may still try to enact their plans, even though he’s the only one left standing and the battle didn’t go as he hoped.”
Just then, Chrissa arrived with her cousins, and she jumped off her horse and raced over to Drostan, throwing her arms around his neck, kissing him heartily, and saying, “’Twas wonderful. Long but so worth it because we won! The English will not be back for a while. And I figured out who was with your mother.”
“I think I did, too.” He hugged her tight, knowing he needed to know she was safe, that she’d survived, and they did indeed have a future together.
Alex cleared his throat.
Chrissa jumped away from him. “Sorry, Grandsire.” She hugged Alex and then stood back, blushing.
Alex said, “You’re forgiven. I remember being in love like that.”
Chrissa gave him a look. “You were always in love with Grandmama. Do not try to tell me otherwise.”
“True, but young love is when you notice naught else but that person. When love matures, it changes, and you can notice the world around you again. You just proved my theory.” He patted her shoulder and smiled. “I’m pleased you’ve chosen a fine man.”
“So who is it?” Drostan asked. “If ’tis the same as my man, he’s already here, and I suspect he’s in the back, letting his men in.”
“We must stop them!” Chrissa shouted.
John joined them and asked, “Is he here yet?”
“Who is it?” Alex asked.
Chrissa and Drostan answered in unison. “Father Dowall.”
“He just went into the hall,” Alex said, turning around to follow him. “Wee bastard. And I doubt he’s tied to the church. The costume is a great disguise that fooled many.”
“Don’t worry,” Drostan said. “He won’t go far.”
Chrissa looked at him, her face a question. “What did you do?”
“Come, you’ll see.”
Drostan took her hand and led the group that had gathered out front around to the back of the keep. Alex, John, Connor, Alasdair, Emmalin, and Els all followed.
When they opened the door, they were all shocked, but then they broke into gales of laughter. About forty guards had come over the back wall, only to find themselves stuck in something. They struggled to get free, only to find themselves caught in another spot.
Father Dowall was also stuck, but his mouth was going as fast as anything they’d ever heard.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a priest curse so,” Alex said. “Have you, Connor?”
Connor just crossed his arms and laughed.
Father Dowall took off his robe and his collar, flinging them away from him, then took something and unwrapped it. “You can laugh all you like, but I’ll free myself right now.” He took out a sword and held it up in the air. “I have the power!” he bellowed.
The laughter grew even louder. Chrissa squeezed Drostan’s hand and said, “Tar? ‘Twas a brilliant solution, Drostan.”
John yelled over, “’Tis a phony sword, Father, though I guess you’re no priest. No matter, I’ve already hidden the sapphire sword, and no one will ever find it.”
Connor said, “Well done, Drostan. I think we’ll leave them like that for a while.”
The cursing continued, and they all turned around to go back inside.
***
Drostan leaned over the parapets, watching the woman he loved in the courtyards. Tears filled his eyes, something that hadn’t happened since he lost both of his parents on the same day and fallen more deeply in love with Chrissa. He’d also been kidnapped, stabbed, and put into an impossible situation by some evil men.
And one very evil woman.
He’d come out here to leave that awful day behind, hopefully, and start a new life with Chrissa. If her family would allow it.
Alex leaned over the parapets on one side of him while Finlay and Kyla were on the other side. “Now, lad,” Alex said. “Captivity makes people do things they’d never do outside of captivity.”
“’Tis true. Listen to my father. He knows,” Kyla said.
“The thoughts I had in that dingy cell would frighten anyone. My mind kept traveling to strange places and thinking verra odd thoughts.” He scuffed the ground with a boot. “And to think the reason I was there and went through that was because of my own mother. I am so sorry for all of the trouble she has caused. I wish to apologize to all of you, but I don’t know how to do it properly. If you wish for me to leave the clan…”
Finlay interrupted him, clasping his shoulder. “Enough of such nonsense. You had naught to do with it. Your mother had her own twisted leanings, and you’re not to blame for her actions. Think no more on any of it.”
He looked at Chrissa’s father, appreciating his words. It was as if Finlay had peered into his soul and seen all of his fears. Now if he could just believe them to be true. “I do love your daughter, but if you wish to send me away…”
Alex said, “Enough of that. Why did you come up here?”
Drostan took a step back from the parapets so he wouldn’t be distracted by Chrissa. “Because I knew the three of you were here and I’d like all of your blessings. I wish to take Chrissa as my wife, if you will all allow it.”
Kyla rushed over and hugged him, squealing.
“Is that approval?” he asked, looking at Finlay’s wide grin behind her back.
“Aye, we would love for you to marry Chrissa. Wouldn’t we, Papa?” Kyla asked, leaning toward her father.
“Aye, ’twould please me to attend one more wedding festival before…”
Kyla practically shoved Drostan out of the way in her haste to get to her father. “Don’t think you’re leaving me. Not yet, Papa. Do you hear me?” She gripped her father’s shoulder, staring into his eyes, before she spun around abruptly and said to Finlay, “I have to go or I’ll start sobbing.” But she
paused for long enough to call out over her shoulder, “Never, Papa. Never!”
Finlay and Kyla left, leaving him alone with Alex Grant. Drostan looked at him from the side and asked, “Before what? Was she right, Alex?”
“Nay, she has no idea what I meant.” Alex stared out at the group beneath them and mumbled, “Actually, neither do I.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chrissa strode back from the archery field. She was the last to leave. Practice was a distraction, and truth was, she missed her cousins dearly. They’d all left a few days ago.
She took a deep sigh when something dropped out of a tree in front of her as she walked beneath it. A single white rose. She bent down to pick it up and then jumped as Drostan dropped out of the tree too.
“I didn’t think roses grew in trees, Drostan. But surely warriors don’t either. This rose is most lovely and has such a sweet scent.” She inhaled the aroma and smiled, then stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. Pulling back, she teased, “Only one though? Several would have been much sweeter.”
“One rose represents you. You are the only one I’ll ever want or need, Chrissa. You are my one rose.”
“Oh, you’re sweeter than this rose.”
“And I’m here to ask you to marry me. I’ve gained the approval of your parents and your grandsire, which I found more daunting than any task I’ve faced as a warrior. Chrissa Grant, will you please marry me, be with me forever and ever? Promise never to leave me?”
She squealed and threw her arms around his neck. “Aye, of course! I love you, Drostan, and I’d never walk out on you like your mother did. I hate that you felt the need to say that.” She lifted the rose to her face again so she could breathe in its sweet aroma.
He kissed her then, a deep kiss that sealed the moment for her. When he ended the kiss, he whispered, “I love you more than I ever could have guessed. And I’m so happy you’ll be mine forever.”
He wrapped his arm around her and they sauntered back toward the keep.
“So was this your plan all along? To ask me just like when we made our pact together so long ago?”
He frowned. “Pact?”
She nudged her elbow into his side. “You forgot already? Do you not recall what your father said about us? That when I fell out of the tree, you helped me, stayed with me, and we made our pact to marry someday.”
“Ah, that pact. When you fell out of a tree.” He grinned and tipped his head back. “I wish I could tell you so, but I just wished to surprise you.”
“I’ll always remember your sire for that,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing. “Did my sire give you any trouble when you asked for my hand?”
“Nay. I thought they would, but your mother was actually excited.”
“Good. I’m glad they didn’t make it difficult for you.”
They strode back to the keep arm in arm, both smiling.
To her surprise, her mother and father were waiting in the courtyard as if they’d known about his plan. “Mama, we’re betrothed!”
“I know,” she said. “Congratulations. We couldn’t be any happier for the two of you.”
Her father gave her a squeezing hug, then her mother.
“So can we marry on the morrow? The next day? I don’t wish to wait.” She glanced up at Drostan to see if he agreed, but he had a stoic look on his face that told her nothing.
“You’re waiting,” her mother announced, crossing her arms in front of her.
“What do you mean?” She glanced from her mother to Drostan.
“Look, Chrissa,” her mama said. “I’m sure you can see that your grandsire will not be around forever. This could be the last family wedding he’ll be able to attend. I want to bring all of our allies here. I want a huge wedding.”
“What about what we want?”
She was prepared to launch into an argument with her mother, but her father said, “Hear your mother out this time, sweetling. Her idea is wonderful and I expect ’twill suit you well.”
She looked up at Drostan and said, “Are you going to stand with me?”
“Nay.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Why not?”
“Do you not remember what you made me promise all those years ago? You wanted a big festival for our wedding, but it would only happen if I worked verra hard in the lists. Well, I did my part, now you have to do yours. Let your mother tell you what she has in mind, and I think you’ll accept her terms.”
“But…”
“Come to the garden so no one listens,” her mother directed.
She gave in to the three people she loved most in the world and followed her mother into the garden. “Go ahead. Explain your idea to me.”
“I’d like for you to marry in late summer, a moon from now. We’ll have a big festival before the wedding, with plenty of contests. Grandsire and Uncle Logan can serve as judges. We’ll have archery, sword skills, dagger throwing, horseback riding, even a diving contest in the loch.” She grinned. “We can even have a fruit tart contest—who can eat the most. Whatever you want. And I want to include all of the allies Papa has built over the years: the Ramsays, Camerons, Menzies, and Drummonds. They can all take part. And we’ll have an entire month to plan it and sew you a beautiful gown exactly to your liking.”
“That does sound wonderful.” There was only one problem. She wanted to consummate the marriage, and she didn’t wish to wait. Of course, she didn’t quite know how to say that to her mother and father. A glance at Drostan told her he felt the same way.
To her shock, her parents exchanged a look and started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“We know why you hesitate,” her father said. “We were young once too. Your mother and I have set up a cottage for you. On the morrow, we’ll have food sent there, and ’tis yours for the weekend. You’ll be alone to do as you wish and no one else has to know. No checking the linens like some clans do. No bedding ceremony for the wedding. You know Grandsire prohibits them. We’ll tell everyone you’ve gone off to visit a friend at Loki’s castle. Use it for the month when you think you can get away unnoticed.”
“The only one who will suspect will be Grandsire,” her mother continued, “but I’ll tell him you two handfasted and that will satisfy him.”
As soon as Chrissa was able to form words—when had her parents last shocked her speechless?—she said, “You’re sure about that, Mama?”
“Your grandsire allowed Brodie to handfast with Celestina when she was already betrothed to a Norse nobleman. And he also allowed Aunt Jennie to handfast. He’ll accept your decision.”
She couldn’t believe what they offered, so she glanced at Drostan again to see his reaction was.
He nodded, a sly grin on his face that he was fighting to make look innocent.
“Hellfire, aye!” She clasped her hand over her mouth as fast as she said it, simply because she hadn’t planned to be so honest.
Drostan chuckled and peered from one parent to the other. “’Tis the way of my wife. She’s blunt.”
***
Drostan couldn’t believe that Chrissa’s parents had arranged this for them. They were finally going to spend the night together, in their own hut.
Nay, two nights together.
“You know we’re basically handfasted now, do you not?”
“Aye, I agreed and so did you,” he said, pleased the evening was a lovely one. The temperature was pleasantly warm since it was the middle of the summer, but a cool breeze blew through the trees, the sound of the wavering branches quite soothing. The chatter of the squirrels told him the wee beasties were as pleased with the night as Drostan. They rode one horse out to the place her mother had told them about, surprised to find it well-hidden among the trees. “I had no idea this was here.”
He hopped down from the horse, then helped her down before he tied the horse’s reins to a tree so the animal could graze while they were inside.
Chrissa hesitated next
to the door, looking at him over her shoulder before she opened the door. He didn’t care what the inside looked like as long as there was a bed, but he knew it would matter to her. Alexander Grant had advised him the other night, “Never dismiss a lass’s needs. They are as important to them as our swords and daggers are to us.”
She opened the door wide and took two steps inside, then brought both hands to her chest. “Look, Drostan. ’Tis beautiful.”
His idea of beauty was the woman in front of him, not any inanimate objects in the hut, but he nodded readily enough, happy she was pleased. “Aye, your mother did a fine job preparing it for us.”
The cottage had one large chamber, separated by a partition that looked to have been added in later, after the main structure was built. To the right sat the large hearth, with a kettle already cooking over the small fire. The smell of roasted lamb caught him. He peeked inside when he walked by it, pleased to see it was a lamb and carrot stew, thick with gravy.
There were candles everywhere, and some flowers arranged in various places, though he had no idea what kind they were except for one vase of white roses. That much he recognized because he’d asked her mother if she could place some inside.
The bed behind the partition was piled thick with furs and soft pillows, plenty big enough for both of them. A platter of fruit and cheese sat on the table in the center of the cottage, and a bottle of wine stood next to the platter, a luxury for certain. There was also a pitcher of ale on a shelf, along with various dishes and utensils and a large basin of water.
“I think they thought of everything, lass. What say you?”
She stopped and threw her arms around his neck. “’Tis perfect. I love it and I love you.”
He kissed her and said, “What shall we do first?” He would leave it to her to set the pace. He had some sexual experience, but not much, so he felt almost as new to this as she did.
“Drostan, I know you probably would prefer to go right into the bedroom, but do you mind if we have a goblet of wine first? I admit that I’m a wee bit nervous.”
The Scot's Deception (Highland Swords Book 5) Page 20
