To Every Love There is a Season: A historical Romance of the Scottish Border in the reign of King Jo

by Marissa St. James

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The next week flew by, keeping Ellen busy with the guests. She breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she no longer had to deal with Nicholas. He had disappeared the day after her wedding. She would be glad to see the rest of the guests go, so she and David could share some quiet time without interruption. Shortly after the New Year, the guests began to depart for their own homes.

  She stood quietly as Alexander, dressed in a fine wool tunic and leggings, set a fur lined cloak about his shoulders and glanced at his men as they prepared to leave Ravencliff.

  "I look forward to the day when you will come to our home, and make it yours. Our rough Scottish ways can benefit from the hand of a lovely English rose."

  "Do not forget the thorns which surround this rose, father." David remarked, his eyes filled with laughter.

  Alex grinned. "Ah, but think of the challenge of getting past them without getting scratched ... at least not seriously."

  "As long as I hold on to those thorns," Ellen added good naturedly, turning her attention briefly to her father-in-law, "I will never be taken for granted." Her innocent smile hid the mischief she kept under control.

  They conversed a few moments longer, then her new father-in-law and his men left Ravencliff, to return to Scotland. They could not afford to be away too long.

  As the bridal couple watched the men ride away, Ellen braced against the excited shiver coursing through her, and David took her hands in his.

  "By week's end we will follow my father home. It is a beautiful, wild country, Ellen. It reminds me so much of you. Like my homeland, you are beautiful, wild in some ways, and free." He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose.

  Ellen's playful tendencies rose and she punched him in reward for his dubious compliment. Only Gordon could get away with such behavior. She giggled and stepped back.

  "Ow! What do you think you are doing, woman?" He frowned and rubbed his arm.

  "Wild indeed," she scoffed. She glowed with excitement at the prospect of going to David's home. The glow turned quickly to anxiety. "There is little time to prepare for the journey. Oh David, I do hope your people will like me."

  "They will love you almost as much as I do, Sprite. See to the packing, but try not to overdo. I would like to get home within a reasonable amount of time."

  Initially, Ellen was horrified at his seriousness, but then she caught the twinkle in his eyes, giving away his enjoyment of her dilemma.

  "You can bring Muriel with us, if you like. Then you will not feel so alone when we first arrive."

  Grateful for his offer, Ellen knew he was remembering his own arrival at Ravencliff so many years before, and the feelings of aloneness, which everyone could tell had overwhelmed him. Granted, his circumstances had been different, but in her heart, she understood it had not made him feel any more welcome those first few days.

  As she hurried away to begin the long process of deciding what to pack for the journey, Ellen went back over what David had discussed with her concerning their return to his home. He had said he wanted his people to accept her into their midst. Given the hatred between Scots and English, he knew it would be a difficult personal battle for her, but he had held her close and affirmed his faith in her ability to fit into her new home and make friends. Like David, she only hoped the Scots would give her the chance.

  Ellen hurried to her bedchamber, calling Muriel as she went. In the room, she began tossing clothing about, finding what they would need for the journey to Scotland. A mountain of clothing sat piled on the bed when the maid appeared. Ellen glanced up to see Muriel staring at the pile. From the horrified look on her face, it was obvious the maid thought she had done something wrong, and Ellen was just now discovering it. Ellen turned quickly and continued tossing each item after giving it a quick glance.

  "Muriel," Ellen spoke breathlessly, whether from excitement of exertion, she wasn't sure. "I want you to go with me to Scotland, as my personal maid."

  Molly stared at her mistress, for a moment. "My lady?"

  "I love Gwennyth dearly, but she is too old for such a long journey. Better she remain here, looking after Kitty. I think Molly will most likely take Gwennyth's place."

  Muriel picked up a shirt that had fallen to the floor. "I am honored you should choose me to be your maid in your new home, my lady, but," Muriel hesitated, "but I can not go."

  Ellen looked up from the mess around her, surprised by the polite refusal. "This is not like you. I have never known you to turn away from the opportunity to take part in a new adventure."

  "I know my lady, but..." Muriel stammered and blushed a pretty shade of pink. "I have duties of my own, now, my lady." She twisted the simple shiny ring on her finger.

  Ellen studied Muriel's reaction and realized what the girl was trying to tell her. "Did you marry? Who is he?" Ellen's tone was suddenly serious.

  "He is one of your brother's men-at-arms, my lady."

  Ellen grabbed the girl's arms and gently shook her "Why did you not tell me, you silly girl? Did you think I would stand in your way? You serve this household, but you still have every right to your own happiness. What is his name?"

  "Justin, my lady." Muriel kept her eyes lowered.

  "Justin." Ellen gave the name a bit of thought then lit up with remembrance. "That handsome soldier who stands guard by the portcullis?" Muriel's deeper blush and reluctant nod confirmed Ellen's suspicion.

  "When did this marriage take place?"

  "The day before your own wedding, my lady. We were not trying to hide anything," Muriel hurried through her explanation. "We could not wait, but did not want to take away from your happiness. So we went about it very quietly. I would have told you sooner, my lady, but you have been so happy with your new husband, I thought to wait for a better time."

  "Oh, Muriel," Ellen sighed. "I wish you had told me sooner. I will have to speak to my husband of course." Ellen saw the agony in Muriel's face and felt guilty about teasing the girl.

  "Not to worry. Justin may be one of Gordon's men, but I am sure I can convince my brother to let him go, then I will speak to David about including Justin in the group of men to accompany us. Then you will have no choice but to be my maid."

  "Oh, my lady, how can I ever thank you?"

  Ellen grinned. "You can stop standing there as if you were scared to death, and help me sort this mess."

  The three-day journey with baggage laden carts and men-at-arms to escort them, proved free of raids from outlaws. Ellen had never seen such rugged country, and was in awe of distant snow covered mountains. The afternoon sunlight cast blue-gray shadows on their craggy surfaces, making Ellen feel colder with the look of them.

  Snow lay before the travelers in scattered patches, some untouched by human footprints. Along the trail, the sun warmed earth created a thick layer of mud where the ground was thawed. The horses churned up what passed for a road, spattering humans and animals alike, while the heavy carts occasionally bogged down. Guards had to dismount to push the carts along. Mud sucked at the wheels, only to turn hard and dry as the day turned to evening.

  When the travelers stopped for the night, tents were erected, and fires quickly built for cooking and warmth. They were too far from any cottages to be offered shelter from the weather and a hot meal. A cold wind blew down from the hills, making humans and animals alike, shiver in the settling darkness.

  * * *

  David studied the darkening woods nearby, satisfied it was too cold for thieves, and that there were no places offering shelter to attackers. They had been fortunate this journey to remained uneventful.

  David slowly released his breath and watched it fog in the night air. The sooner they settled in, the better for all. Scotland could be a harsh country. The elements constantly did battle with the humans who inhabited the land, but he loved it just the same. He had adjusted well to living in England, but his love of Scotland came first, and never wavered. This was his home.

  He glanced at Ellen as she disa
ppeared into the largest tent, proud she had not voiced any complaints of the hardships on this journey. The ladies he had known at the Scottish court were soft, demanding, much like English ladies, but when it came to supporting their men in battle, there were none stronger. Would Ellen have that same kind of strength if he had to go off to fight? Knowing the sprite he had watched grow to become a self-reliant woman, he dismissed any doubt of her abilities to cope.

  When guards were set and the rest of the camp quiet for the night, David entered his own tent. A canvas had been placed on the cold ground, and a pile of furs made a warm bed. Ellen lay sound asleep, one of the furs covering her from neck to toes. Her loose chestnut hair contrasted against the dark fur beneath her. David wondered what he had done right, to deserve the love of this lady. His heart warmed as he watched her gentle steady breathing in quiet slumber.

  David stood behind Ellen for a moment, then toed off his soft leather boots. Ellen curled up against the cold when he lifted one end of the furs to slip between them. He made himself comfortable and slipped one arm over her as she snuggled back against his warm body. Her sigh of pleasure brought a smile to his face. David lightly brushed the hair from her face and whispered softly in her ear. "No matter what the future holds for us, Sprite, I cannot imagine loving anyone else. You will always be the lady of my heart." He lay back against the furs and, drifting off to sleep, failed to see the smile on his bride's lips.

  * * *

  The rest of the journey went quickly, filled with Ellen's laughter and many questions. Despite the years she had known David, she knew almost nothing of his home, except for the fact Scotland was frequently at war with England. Well, perhaps not outright war, but the border skirmishes did nothing to endear one side to the other.

  The people they met along the way were generally hospitable, welcoming David and his men, but shying away from her, as if she were some strange creature. Ellen was not sure how to take their attitude. David assured her, the Scots would warm to her when they knew her better. His people were always wary of strangers, especially if those strangers were English.

  The travelers made good time, despite the cold, and on the third day, David halted at the top of a hill. Ellen urged her mount forward a few steps to get a better look at what had stopped her husband. Several small huts were scattered about the mainland below. A wooden bridge stretched a short distance from the shore to an island; it was the only way to or from the castle. Ellen shaded her eyes from the late afternoon sun, and stared at the lonely structure, and the men who patrolled the wall walk.

  A path straddled one side of the hill, steep and winding. From here, it appeared to be a tedious climb. "It seems so lonely," she remarked to her husband. Ellen's voice held a measure of disappointment, but she had had no idea what to expect.

  "'Lonely' is often the best defense against enemies. It gives you more time to prepare, since you can see invaders coming from a ways off."

  Ellen studied the castle surroundings again. On the far side of the castle, the distant mountains stretched down in a sheer drop to the lake below. The water looked cold, black and forbidding. There was no concealment that way, for an invading force. A great forest covered several hills on the mainland. Ellen shivered with the thought of what might be lurking there. She mentally pushed the notion from her mind. David would never bring her to a place where her life would be endangered. She accepted the fact of her husband's confidence in his people. She trusted him implicitly. But the people had minds of their own. Would they welcome her as David's bride, or would they be as cold as the climate and as hostile as that mountain appeared to be?

  When they reached the base of the mountain, several men-at-arms went ahead, pushing and pulling the carts along the rocky terrain, until they reached the long bridge. The weight of the carts' set the wheels rattling against the wooden planks. Ellen noticed the bridge ended abruptly some twenty feet from the castle, and the heavy drawbridge was slowly lowered to fill the gap, allowing the travelers to enter.

  "Come Sprite. It's time you saw your new home." David eased Thunderbolt down the steep mountain path and Ellen followed, with Muriel and the remaining soldiers following behind. Ellen glanced back to see Justin moving closer to Muriel, their fingers entwined as the group slowly moved up the path toward the castle. If Ellen was nervous about her new home, she could imagine how Muriel felt.

  The courtyard was busy with people hurrying about, completing their duties. The soldiers had arrived moments before, huffing and puffing, trailing the carts behind them, and servants scattered out of the way to make room. Chatter increased at the sight of David entering the courtyard, but gradually ceased when they caught sight of the women with him.

  While Ellen waited for David to help her dismount, she looked around at the crowd of servants. Voices were silent and faces registered hostility as they realized the woman in their midst was English. The unfriendly atmosphere chilled Ellen to the bone.

  David helped her down, then turned to his people. "This is my wife, the Lady Ellen. You are to treat her with the same respect you give my father and me."

  Ellen stepped closer to her husband, surreptitiously reaching for his hand. The silence was frightening, and Ellen had never been afraid before. Staying close to David's side, she was surprised when he released her hand and hurried to greet his father. Ellen was unaware of Justin and Muriel moving to stand behind her, as she watched David climb the steps to where his father stood, leaving her in the midst of silent fury. The servants did not look furious. For the most part their faces were blank of emotion, but she could feel it, like an underwater current, ready to pull her down into its depths, and drown her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ellen wandered aimlessly about the castle, wishing there were something she could do. If she were home at Ravencliff, there would have been much to keep her busy. Here, in David's home, she felt as useless as an old torn shirt. Even a few of those still had some use.

  She entered the great hall, which was smaller than the one in Ravencliff, and saw two servants standing before the head table, staring up at the wall. She followed the direction of their stare as she silently approached them. The shield Gordon had given David as a wedding gift hung prominently over the center chairs. Ellen might not understand the language the servants spoke, but there was no mistaking the tone. They were disgusted with the English shield hanging on Scottish walls. Their conversation was followed by snide laughter, until they realized they were not alone. Ellen was taken aback by the hate filled glare they turned on her before they stalked away.

  Ellen stood before the table, and studied the shield, remembering her wedding day. How could a month change everything so drastically? On that day, she was as happy as any young bride could be. She sighed with disappointment, confused as to how things could have gone so wrong.

  Returning to her bedchamber, Ellen took up her embroidery. It seemed to be the only thing she could do without someone frowning at her. Her thoughts faded away as she sat near a window and tried to concentrate on the design she worked. The needle poked through the cloth, carrying a strand of silk thread. Back and forth, she pulled the needle through until she tossed the work on the window seat cushion in frustration, and stared out the window.

  The chamber door opened and a young woman entered, taking Ellen by surprise. "Do you not knock before entering your lord's chamber? Or are manners so lacking in this country that you come and go as you please?" Ellen was shocked at her own sharp tongue, but refused to relent.

  The girl placed an armload of clothing on the high bed, and looked up at Ellen.

  "Lord David left the castle hours ago with his father and a few men. The housekeeper assured me no one was here."

  Ellen left her seat and went to the bed to inspect the clothes. The maid had pulled a few things from a stool. She ran her hand lovingly across a lawn shirt, turned and was about to leave with the bundle. "What do you have there?" Ellen rushed over and grabbed the clothes from the maid. Her actions felt like
a childish tantrum, but she could not seem to stop herself. A shirt had a rent in one sleeve. Ellen glanced from the garment to the maid's knowing look. "I am quite capable of repairing my husband's clothing."

  "Well, Housekeeper told me to get them and I do as I am told ... my lady."

  Ellen noted the underlying disdain in the girl's reply. "Who are you?"

  "Catriona."

  Ellen studied the girl for a moment. Her dark brown hair lay in a long thick braid over one shoulder. Hazel eyes, a small upturned nose, and full mouth completed the pretty face. The dress she wore showed off more of her slim figure than Ellen thought appropriate for her station. Ellen felt a twinge of discomfort as the maid defiantly returned her stare. There was a hint of jealousy in Catriona's eyes. Was this girl the reason why David spent so little time with his own wife now? Ellen cared not for the direction of her thoughts and cast them aside.

  "Tell Housekeeper, I will be tending to my own sewing. She need not worry about Lord David's clothing."

  "As you wish." Catriona gave Ellen a little smirk and arrogant curtsy, then slowly turned on her heel and sauntered out of the room.

  Ellen went to the door and closed it, disturbed by the knowing glance Catriona gave her before disappearing below stairs. Those wayward thoughts returned, creating a seed of doubt for David's fidelity. Perhaps some fresh air would clear her mind. Tossing her cloak about her shoulders, she climbed the steps to the top of the tower and stepped out on to the wall walk. A guard strolled by, giving her little more than a glance, and continued on his way. Ellen ignored him and concentrated on her reasons for being on the wall walk. The air was brisk, and refreshing, carrying the scent of pine on the wind. She wrapped her cloak tightly about her and looked up at the sky, at clouds so low, she imagined them to be just beyond her fingertips. Their steel gray color made her feel cold, like David's growing attitude toward her the last few weeks.