The Promise of Peace

by Carol Umberger

  In the moments before he spoke, Nola’s heart nearly burst with anxiety. Would he deny her?

  Keifer studied her, then appeared to make up his mind. “My laird. Would you excuse us for a moment?”

  “I’ll not let Nola out of my sight.”

  Keifer regarded her again. “I believe I feel the same way, my laird.”

  Her hopes rose.

  “Now just a minute,” Will blustered.

  Keifer ignored Will and searched her face, his smile rueful. “’Twas a fine adventure, was it not?”

  Nola’s heart sank to her feet. All she could do was nod.

  “I would hate to see it come to a bad end, wouldn’t you?”

  Tear-filled eyes were the only answer she could give him.

  Keifer took her hand and faced her father. “What Nola meant to say is that we would like your permission to marry. And I need a moment with her.”

  Without asking for Adam’s leave, Keifer walked Nola a few paces away. Nola threw a glance at her father and Will, who seemed as surprised as she at Keifer’s statement.

  Once again she had acted without thinking, and her impetuous words were forcing Keifer to do something he didn’t want to do. She’d known only too well that he didn’t want to marry. “I’m so sorry, Keifer. I should not have said—”

  “Hush.” He kissed her, and it was everything she remembered, everything she wanted for the rest of her life. But she had ruined it.

  They parted, and Keifer looked into her eyes without speaking.

  She thought she saw forgiveness in his gaze. Was it possible? His silence—she had to say something, anything. “I’m sor—”

  “If you keep apologizing, I will have to keep kissing you and we will never finish this conversation.” He smiled. “I like the idea of kissing you some more, but your father and Will are waiting none too patiently.”

  She saw Keifer swallow, as if reluctant to say whatever else was on his mind. If she had ruined their friendship, she would never forgive herself.

  “I am tired of pretending that I don’t care for you. I do care, Nola.”

  He cares. She breathed a sigh of relief. “I know you care.” But does he love me? And was she brave enough to ask? No, she was not. But she, too, was tired of hiding her feelings. However, too much was at stake and she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see his reaction. So she stared at his chest and whispered, “I think I have loved you forever.”

  He placed his finger beneath her chin and raised her face. “I have loved you since you kicked me in the shins.” He smiled again, and the tenderness she saw was what she had hoped for but had not expected to see. “But I fell in love with you in Paris.”

  “You did?”

  “I did.”

  “Where exactly?”

  He chuckled. “Let me think on that answer.”

  Nola heard her father clear his throat, but she paid him no mind.

  Only Keifer mattered. “I think we should marry, don’t you?”

  “Aye, sweet Nola. That we should. Will you marry me?”

  She threw herself into his arms. “Aye! I want kisses and so much more, Keifer. Let us marry yet today and send Da back to Moy.”

  Keifer threw back his head and laughed. “Ah, Nola. Don’t ever change.”

  They walked back to Nola’s father, whose expression had softened somewhat.

  Keifer said, “Your daughter has agreed to marry me.”

  “I see it didn’t take much persuasion.”

  Keifer glared at Adam, clearly disliking his disrespect.

  Sir Adam put up his hand. “No need to defend her honor. I suspect you’ll marry her with or without my permission, so I may as well give you my blessing. Will?”

  Nola looked at Will. He appeared to be genuinely disappointed.

  “I’m sorry, Will. I should have broken off with you before I left. I let you and Da assume I meant to return and marry you, and that was wrong. I ask for your forgiveness.”

  But Will did not answer her. He simply turned on his heel and strode away.

  THE BELLS OF THE SAINTE-CHAPELLE RANG VESPERS as Nola, her father, Keifer, and Lady Randolph walked toward the abbey. Keifer looked up at the sky and its threat of rain as they walked across the courtyard toward the chapel. Nervously he glanced at Nola. Although she clutched her father’s arm, she gave an impish smile to Keifer.

  It would be all right. In those moments of decision, when her father and Will had threatened to take her from him, Keifer’s path had become clear. He wanted Nola in his life and in his heart. Friendship would no longer do.

  Adam had located a priest and persuaded him to perform the ceremony yet that day. The small chapel was damp and cold. Lady Randolph stood next to Nola, and Adam stood with Keifer as they faced the altar.

  And then it was just Nola and Keifer, kneeling before the priest as Keifer placed the Macnab laird’s ring on Nola’s cold finger and said the words that bound him to her forever. The ring slid from her finger. He put it back and closed her fingers around it, anxious to find her a proper wedding ring when they had more time.

  When the priest finished the blessing, Keifer took his wife, his best friend, into his arms and kissed her soundly, properly, and with promises of what awaited.

  After the ceremony, Nola said good-bye to her father. “When you catch up to Will, tell him . . .” Tell him what? She had already apologized. “Just tell him God’s speed.”

  “I’ll do that, Daughter. But I’m not heading for Moy. And I doubt Will is either. We had talked about going to Homelea to join Bryan, see what Bruce has planned in the way of disappointing young Edward of England.”

  “You will fight?”

  “Aye, if it comes to that. I’m not in my dotage, you know.” Adam turned to Keifer. “Enjoy this time with your bride.”

  “Thank you, sir. For everything, especially for your daughter.”

  “See you take care of her,” he said gruffly. Her father hugged her and wished her well, then left for the ship that would return him to Scotland. Keifer moved his things into Nola’s chamber. The restriction to the palace grounds did not infringe on their enjoyment of Paris or of each other. Nola felt no shyness with her bridegroom, only joy. They laughed and played and enjoyed each other in the way of newlyweds.

  THE WEEKS PASSED QUICKLY and the Treaty of Corbeil was signed, strengthening a long-standing alliance between Scotland and France. All too soon it was time to return to Scotland. Keifer stood on the deck of the ship, watching as the shoreline grew smaller and finally disappeared.

  Paris had been a perfect spot for a newly married couple to spend their first weeks together. Keifer smiled at the memory of his lovely wife in her night shift. Aye, he liked being married to Nola.

  Sir Thomas joined him. They both stared out at the sea for a time, lost in thoughts of Paris. “I am anxious to be home,” the earl remarked.”

  “So am I, my laird.”

  “Do you plan to take Nola to Moy or to your own holdings?”

  “To Innishewan. I hope to spend some time with my family. Then I must find a way to obtain more funds.”

  “You will always find employment with me,” he said. “Please, stay with us in Edinburgh until arrangements are made for the trip to Innishewan.”

  “But—”

  Sir Thomas held up his hand. “No use arguing. My wife says it will be so.” The man grinned.

  Keifer smiled back. “Aye. I’ve already learned there are times when it’s best not to argue with the wife.”

  “Good. Then it’s settled. Enjoy the voyage.”

  The weather remained good and they arrived in Edinburgh a day earlier than expected. Keifer and Nola gathered their belongings and walked off the ship toward the waiting carriage. Owyn had left immediately, intending to look for his father and ascertain if he was still a threat. He was to meet them at Innishewan.

  As they rode in a carriage to the Randolph’s home, Keifer looked forward to extending their holiday. But those hopes wer
e dashed in less than an hour of depositing their belongings in the earl’s guest room. A messenger arrived, and as soon as the man left, Sir Thomas called his wife and houseguests into his solar.

  “I’m afraid our plans must be changed. Edward is dead.”

  Keifer took a moment to absorb this news. England’s king was a relatively young man in good health. “How did he die?”

  The earl took a deep breath and blew it out. “Rumor has it he died at the hands of his own wife and her scheming paramour, Mortimer.”

  Lady Randolph said, “Oh my.” Edward’s wife was the sister of France’s king. “Will this affect the treaty you have worked so hard to negotiate?”

  “No. I don’t think so. Of more concern is that Edward’s fifteen-year-old son has been crowned Edward III, and he blames ‘the Scottish rebels’ for his father’s death.”

  “’Tis just an excuse to amass an army and come north,” Keifer said.

  “I agree.” The earl didn’t look pleased.

  Keifer knew that Randolph had played a principal role in the defeat of the English on their last foray north. No doubt he had hoped not to have to repeat that role a dozen years later.

  “Do you think he will? Come north?” Nola asked.

  The earl strode over to a winnock, seemingly lost in thought.

  “Aye, he’s going to want to finish what his grandfather started and his weakling father never finished. A victory over Scotland would establish his reign and his superiority.”

  “Then I best get Nola home quickly and return to prepare.”

  “There won’t be time. I’m afraid that will have to be delayed until we know how imminent is the English threat.”

  Keifer glanced at Nola. She nodded, more subdued than Keifer had ever seen her.

  “Are you all right, Nola?” he asked.

  “There will be war again, won’t there?”

  “ ’Tis likely, yes.”

  “And you will fight.”

  “That’s what I’ve trained for. And if God smiles, I will return with additional lands and spoils. Who knows?” he said, trying a smile. “This might be a godsend. I’ll fight, we’ll return home the victors, and then I can remain there the rest of our lives.”

  Sir Thomas cleared his throat. “I will go to the king, learn his plans, and either return for you or send for you. No need to cut short this time with your new wife.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Nola did not smile, did not look at Keifer. Miserable and afraid, she glanced over toward Lady Randolph.

  The countess gave her a tender smile of courage and said, “And when he must leave, Nola, you will remain with me until ’tis safe to travel.”

  ON THE THIRD DAY after Sir Thomas’s departure, Keifer answered a knock at the front door late in the afternoon to find Owyn standing there. Keifer clasped Owyn’s arm. “Good to see you, man.”

  “Come, sit by the fire and tell us your news,” Nola urged. A serving girl came to her, and after instructing the girl to bring refreshments, Nola sat next to Keifer. As had become her habit, she took Keifer’s hand in hers. He liked that she felt comfortable doing so in front of others.

  Owyn raised an eyebrow.

  Keifer smiled at his friend’s surprise. “We are enjoying married life.”

  Owyn grinned. “Well done, my laird.”

  Keifer gave Nola’s hand a squeeze before returning his attention to his friend. “Did you see your father?”

  “Aye. Didn’t have to travel far, either. He’s with Sir Bryan.” Owyn straightened in his chair. “As I was taking my leave, Da shared that he no longer wanted to see ye dead.”

  Nola sucked in a breath. “Dead? Your uncle wanted you killed?”

  “Aye. It’s a long, complicated story which I will be happy to tell you later.” Keifer wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive way. “Much later.”

  She blushed becomingly, and for a moment he entertained the hope that Owyn would not stay long.

  She recovered her composure. “You needn’t try to distract me from the fact that someone wants you dead.”

  “Wanted, my lady,” Owyn assured her.

  Keifer pondered this news. “Why the change of heart? Do you suppose Angus was covering his tracks?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. He seemed sincere, Keifer. And in good spirits. The best I’ve seen him in some time.”

  “Perhaps so. But I would like to know why he’s had the change of heart before I trust him. I will need to guard my back until then.”

  “Leave yer back to me, my laird.”

  “Aye. That is your duty. You’ve heard about the English coming north?”

  “Aye, heard it myself from Sir Bryan. And I brought these orders for ye,” he said, pulling out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to Keifer.

  Keifer scanned the brief words on the paper and glanced up at Nola, then to Owyn. “We need to be ready to ride in the morning.”

  “Thought that might be the way of it. I’ll see to the packing and getting the horses ready.”

  Keifer looked out the winnock at the lowering sun. “Aye. And you’ll sleep here tonight.”

  “Are ye sure? Don’t want to impose on yer honeymoon.”

  “We’re sure,” Nola said. “I will feel better about Keifer’s leaving knowing he has you to watch over him.”

  “That I will do, my lady. That I will do.”

  A HEAVY MIST shrouded the sun the next morning as Owyn and Keifer saddled their horses.

  The time had come to leave Nola, and Keifer was having second thoughts about the wisdom of marrying. Not of marriage to Nola— there was no doubt that she was the only woman he would ever love. But doubts about the wisdom of marrying at all. The dreary weather didn’t help his spirits. When he’d tightened the girth, Keifer turned to Owyn. “Will you finish here while I get our provisions from Nola?”

  “Aye, my laird.”

  Keifer started toward the manse, shoulders drooping.

  Owyn laid a hand on his arm as he passed. “Keifer.”

  He looked back at his friend.

  Owyn squeezed his arm. “Take yer time.”

  Keifer nodded in acknowledgment and continued walking. There was not enough time in a whole lifetime to say good-bye to Nola. They had parted any number of times over the years, and each time had been painful. But never like this.

  The sharing of their hearts, souls, and bodies these past weeks had deepened his love for Nola to a level he could never have imagined. No wonder that God ordained the marriage bed to be sacred.

  He should never have married her. If he should die, she would be abandoned, just as he had been by his father and brother. As his mother had been when Ian Macnab died. A fresh burst of anger at his uncle surfaced, as it was wont to do now and then.

  Keifer would not nurture that anger, for his own sake and for Owyn’s. But Angus would be riding with them against the English.

  Could he be trusted? Keifer reached the door and walked into the kitchen where Nola stood with her back to him, staring out the small window that faced south. She turned to him. She was not crying as he had feared, and he thanked God for that. He didn’t think he could ride away from her knowing there were tears in her eyes.

  She held out her hands and walked to him. Taking her offered hands, he drew Nola close, then crushed her to his chest.

  “I do so hate good-byes,” she murmured.

  “As do I.” He held her, kissed her, drank in her sweetness. “Are you sure you don’t want to come as far as Homelea with me?”

  She pulled back and looked at his face. “Much as I would treasure another day with you, I feel I should stay here. Lady Randolph will need company with her husband gone, too. ’Tis the least I can do to repay her for her kindness. And surely this will be the best place to hear news.”

  He nodded. “Think how many times that good lady has seen her husband ride into conflict and waited to hear of his fate.”

  “Most of their married life.”


  “Perhaps this time we will win a lasting peace so that you won’t have to do the same.”

  “I will be waiting here for you, Keifer. Husband.” Her voice caught. She blew out her breath. “I will not cry. Absolutely not.”

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “Now then.” She reached for two identical sacks tied shut with string. “Here are oats enough for both you and Owyn, as well as some dried apples. Do you have your oilcloths packed?”

  He smiled at his always practical wife. “Aye.”

  “And here.” She held out the Macnab laird’s ring. “You should wear this.”

  He took it from her. “But you have no wedding ring other than this.”

  “You will buy me one when you return.”

  “That is a promise.” He put the ring on his finger but couldn’t make himself turn for the door.

  She sighed. “Let us not draw this out.”

  “One more kiss?” he pleaded.

  She grinned. “Aye. And no long-drawn-out farewell in front of Owyn.”

  “I remember.” As he kissed her, he also remembered that the last time she’d said such a thing she’d gone back on her word and flung herself into his arms.

  They parted reluctantly and walked hand in hand into the small courtyard where Owyn and the horses waited. Keifer checked the girth once more and—satisfied that it was secure—gathered the reins and mounted.

  “Thank Lady Randolph for all she has done, Nola.” He wanted to say so much more, but the time for words was over. Though he had spent the last years of his life training for battle, he prayed this would be the first and last time he ever had to ride away to war.

  True to her word, Nola kept her chin up and he detected no tears as he spurred his horse and trotted away from his wife. But he couldn’t help wishing she’d embraced him one last time.

  SIXTEEN

  KEIFER AND OWYN met up with Randolph and the others at their camp just north of the English border late that afternoon. The very next day the Scots headed south through the Kielder Gap and down the valley of the north Tyne. They traveled light, each man carrying his provision of oats, which could be made into a paste and grilled directly on their plates. They carried no wine, not even water, relying instead on the rivers for their refreshment.