by Sondra Grey
“Makes her all the sweeter,” Leith said, but he was frowning. The Earl of Argyle had approached Edane from behind. No one else could see the way his hand snaked out and firmly gripped his daughter’s elbow. Edane’s expression didn’t change as Argyle bent his head, clearly sharing something with her. But Leith could see the two bright spots of blush bloom on her cheeks, see the way her shoulders nearly folded inward and her eyes dropped. Before he knew it, he was moving towards them.
“My Lord Argyle,” Leith called as he approached. He saw Argyle start, hand dropping from Edane’s elbow. The Earl turned to address him. Argyle was an impressive man, though half a head shorter than Leith, he carried himself as if he were a foot taller. He was dressed richly, his beard impressively maintained, hair barely greying at all. Argyle inclined his head in greeting. “Macleod,” he said. “I watched you in the melee, you had a good showing.”
“I appreciate that, coming from you my lord,” said Leith. “We’re used to such skirmishes on the islands.”
“I had heard,” said Argyle, “though I’m hoping the King’s peace reigns there now.”
“Until the MacDonalds decide to reclaim their land, I expect it will”
“Ah,” Argyle rubbed at his beard with interest, “And do you think the MacDonalds will attempt to reclaim their land any time soon?”
Leith shrugged, “I was but a boy when Angus was murdered. I cannot say what the remaining MacDonalds would do.”
“It’s a real cautionary tale,” said Argyle, who - if memory served Leith correctly - was brother to the murdered Angus’ wife and uncle to Angus’ son, who was still a prisoner of the crown. “Do you know it daughter?” he asked, turning suddenly on Edane.
Edane shook her head. The asp who’d baited him this morning was gone and in her place was a mouse.
“Angus was Eoin MacDonald’s bastard son. Eoin made a deal with King Edward against the old King, and when the Old King found out, he stripped Macdonald of his stewardships and the Earldom of Ross. Angus, not pleased with this, went to war with his father, beat him, and lost half the clan and their naval ships in the battle… And yet he still managed to slay over 500 of the Earl of Atholl’s men and only stopped his bloody campaign when his harpist murdered him in his sleep.”
Leith winced inwardly, watching Edane take in her father’s tale.
“The moral of the story, daughter?”
Edane cocked her head to the side but remained silent. “It’s the bastard born who make the worst trouble,” said Argyle. Edane met him stare for stare a moment before casting her eyes towards her shoe.
Leith wanted to strangle the man.
“Ah,” said Argyle, as a bell clanged. “That would be dinner. It was a pleasure to speak with you Macleod. Good luck in the lists tomorrow. Daughter.” He nodded to Edane and swept off. Leith tried to catch Edane’s eye but she didn’t look at him as she trailed off to her seat.
CHAPTER 11
E dane’s face was hot as she all but stormed through the castle on her way to the stables. She’d never been more… never more humiliated…
It was the King’s doing. Lord Percival had given a rousing toast to Margaret’s beauty, and the Lord Somerville had paid compliment to several of the ladies in waiting. Once the reveling had settled down the King had paid Edane a compliment, telling her that the ivory silk she was wearing made her look like one of the mythical women from the Arthurian tales. The compliment had warmed her, until the Queen had laughed - as if the king made a joke - and bid Edane curry her horse and braid its mane for tomorrow’s showing. “Tabitha only lets Edane get close enough to braid her hair!” The queen had lied. She’d also made a point of tripping the waiter carrying the wine so that it splashed onto Edane’s sleeves, all but ruining the beautiful ivory silk.
Edane had risen to go and change and Margaret had suggested she might as well take care of Tabitha now, so that she didn’t ruin another dress in the stables. Edane had felt the snickers at her back, and she knew her father would have something to say about it. He’d grabbed her at the dinner and demanded word of her progress with the King, as if she were supposed to be seducing him!
Edane felt tears prick her eyes and forced them back. She would not cry. There was nothing to cry about. She’d shed her tears already - and this was her lot in life. If Margaret were going to punish her simply for existing, then maybe Edane should curry the King’s favor.
Arriving at the stables, she located the queen’s horse in the stall and sent the ostler away when he tried to help. She knew the queen would ask after her task tomorrow. If Edane didn’t braid the mane and brush the damn beast herself, there’d be hell to pay.
Alone, Edane sat down on the hay and considered the horse. Tabitha was a slow, well behaved pony who was more for show than she was for speed. The horse eyed Edane with boredom as Edane sat there, defying the queen for a few moments before she stood up and began brushing the horse’s coat.
The motion was a soothing one and Edane found herself drifting, her mind going - as if often did - to her favorite stories of knights and chivalry and courtly love. She imagined someone coming down after her, sweeping her up into their arms and riding away with her. Her imaginary knight looked too much like Leith Macleod, and she sighed, shaking her head.
“The company down here is far superior to the company in the hall, I’d imagine.”
Edane gasped, startled, and looked up to see Leith leaning against the stable door, watching her.
Edane was suddenly miserable. Oh, why did he have to be here and see her like this!
She shrugged, summoning her pride around her.
“I sent the grooms away. If you’d like, I’ll help you brush the coat. I’m afraid I’ll butcher the braids.”
Edane was about to send him away, but she was exhausted, and if he brushed, her work would go faster. So, she nodded.
Leith slid into the stall and introduced himself to the horse, blowing in the beast's nose and murmuring to it. His voice was so soothing that Edane felt her own shoulders relaxing.
“She’s a bit spoiled, isn’t she?” asked Leith.
“Tabitha?” asked Edane, picking up a section of the horse’s mane and weaving it into braids.
“Margaret.”
Edane shrugged, not wanting to badmouth the queen - you never knew who was listening. “She’s young.”
“And jealous. I’d be jealous of you too, were I her.”
Edane glanced up at him and found he was watching her, eyes intent. Leith smirked and continued.
“She’s a queen,” said Edane. “I’m not sure what there is to be jealous of.”
“The King’s regard, I should think.”
Edane looked up. So, the castle knew too? How humiliating. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” said Edane. “The King has no regard for me. I barely know him.”
Leith had no response and they worked in silence. At first, the silence wore on Edane, but she found a peacefulness in it. The tension in her shoulders seemed to relax. Leith made no moves towards her. In fact, he seemed to simply be content in her company. She was certainly content in his. His presence was reassuring and solid. They worked until the horse’s coat shone and her mane was elegantly braided. Edane stretched her fingers and blinked. She’d barely had any sleep the night before. She was exhausted.
“Come,” said Leith. “Let me see you to your chambers.”
Edane wanted to tell him that such an offer was untoward, but a melancholy had sunk in with the fatigue. It didn’t matter if she were improper with Leith, did it? The whole castle assumed she was the king’s mistress anyway.
As they exited the stables, Leith offered her an arm and Edane took it, leaning on him as they made their way towards her chambers. “You know,” she said, as they walked. “It would have taken me hours to get the coat shining like that.”
“I will accept your gratitude and admit that it was my pleasure to spend more time in the company of a woman as beautiful as you.”
“No,” said Edane, sleepily shaking her head. “Don’t ruin it.”
“Don’t ruin what?”
She was too tired to be anything other than plain. “I feel safe around you. Don’t ruin it by being like everyone else.”
“I find the very suggestion insulting.” Leith murmured.
They reached Edane’s door and Leith stopped. Edane looked up at him, sensing that he wanted to speak. “At the risk of being like everyone else,” he said, his eyes were fierce and intent, “I’m going to kiss you.”
Edane shook her head in objection. “I’m covered in wine, and I smell like horse,” she said. “And I do not want to kiss you.”
“Lady Shadow, you could have just crawled out of a pigpen, and I would still want to kiss you. Even covered in wine and smelling of horse, you are the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen. It took a great strength of will to walk out of that hall with your back straight. Like a cat knocked off a counter to land on its feet.” He smiled, gently. “Forgive me for wanting to see what such courage tastes like. I could use it tomorrow, when I fight your brother.”
He was teasing her now, his smile said so, and Edane opened her mouth to retort, but he was already bending down, crowding her against the door, his hand pressing against the small of her back and drawing her into him. His lips came down then, and brushed against her cheekbone. Edane’s face tilted upward, body acting of its own accord. Her lashes fluttered down as his lips found hers.
The kiss was a slow, demanding one. Leith held her as if she were fragile, his lips moving over hers tenderly, the way she’d imagined that Eric kissed Enide. Edane sighed against his mouth, her lips parting. That’s when the kiss changed.
Whatever chivalry had been holding Leith back disappeared. His lips firmed, kissing her harder, his tongue pushing against her lips and diving into her mouth in an ancient and primal demand. Edane stiffened in surprise as his hands skated across her ribs, but the kiss allowed her no agency. It deepened, and a fire began to build within her, a heat that made her limbs heavy, pliant. Her body was overcome with a strange desperation, and Edane found her hands fisting in the fabric of his plaid, drawing him close.
Leith broke the kiss, his hips pinning her against her door, moving so that she felt something huge and hard against her hip. “Oh yes, Lady,” he breathed into her hair. “I knew you’d be all fire.” He inhaled the scent of her hair and chuckled to himself. “Your body is a siren’s song.” But he was already putting distance between them. Edane looked up, part of her wanting to wrench herself away from his grip, part of her wanting to draw him back into the kiss.
“Will you cheer for your champion tomorrow, Lady? When Margaret rides that weak-legged pony through the tournament fields, will you look my way and remember this kiss?”
His lips came down again and Edane groaned as they fit perfectly to hers. Leith’s hand cupped her face. And this time it was Edane who ripped her face away, desperate to regain some control.
“How dare you?” She tried to sound indignant, but it came out breathy, needy.
Leith chuckled again and pressed his forehead to hers. “Sleep well, Lady Shadow. We’re not finished, you and I.” And with that, he straightened and strode off down the hall.
Edane found herself unwilling to think too much on Leith’s actions. She all but fell into her room, stripped off her ruined gown, and collapsed atop her bedspread. But sleep eluded her, her body was strangely achy, yearning for more of Leith’s touch. And so, as she lay there, she imagined that Leith was still with her, that he’d wrapped her up in his firm, strong embrace. She fell deeply asleep.
CHAPTER 12
“Y ou seem distracted,” said Richard, as Leith stretched out his back before donning his plate armor. “Are you sure you’re ready to fight Colin Campbell?”
Leith nodded. He had a good forty pounds of muscle on Colin Campbell. The lad might be swift, but Leith was swift and strong - he could wear the future Lord Argyle out long before he tired, distracted or not.
And he was distracted, Leith acknowledged to himself. He wasn’t sure what had driven him from the hall after the beautiful young woman. He wasn’t lying when he called her a siren. There was something about Edane Campbell that simply sang to him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d hoped that tasting her last night might take some of the edge off of wanting her. In fact, it had made it infinitely worse. It was clear from that kiss that Edane Campbell had been kissed before. Whether she realized it or not, she’d kissed him back just as fiercely as he’d kissed her.
There was no stopping at a kiss. He’d decided it last night, striding back to his own bedchambers: he would have Edane.
“They’re calling you,” Richard said, cutting into his thoughts. Leith looked up into Richard’s troubled face.
“Don’t worry,” said Leith clapping his cousin on the shoulder and smiling. “I’ll be fine.” And with that he’d strode into the ring.
Edane had woken that next morning feeling more alone than she’d ever felt in her entire life. She’d dreamt of Leith, of his kiss. In her dream, he’d removed her gown and kissed her shoulders. And when she’d looked back at him, James’ court was there, watching them.
That morning, her father had sent for her and quietly spent a half hour berating her for last night’s “performance.” He’d all but ordered her to seduce the king. “If he sends you back to Castle Campbell, we’ll not keep you.” Argyle had warned. “Think about that, Edane, before you continue your little ‘mouse’ routine.”
Perhaps her father had said something to James, or maybe James had thought that, with Margaret in bed with a headache, he might take advantage. Whatever his motivations, when the king had crossed paths with Edane that morning, he had stopped her. He’d given her a wealth of compliments on her appearance. He’d taken her hand in his, asked after her well-being, and apologized for his wife’s behavior the night before. Drawing her close, he’d kissed her hand and, in a low voice, told her how he was looking forward to seeing her after the chaos of the tournament subsided.
Edane had thought of Argyle when she murmured that she hoped the tournament was not too chaotic for his highness. James said that he was touched by her concern, and Edane had forced herself to gaze into his eyes.
Now? She felt sick to her stomach. What right had she to deny the king when just last night she’d let Leith Macleod take several liberties, and she’d encouraged him in the most wanton way. She was no better than the harlot people took her for, and the knowledge upset her deeply.
“Honestly my dear, you are working yourself up over the most inane things,” said Lady Maxwell, sounding put upon. After spotting Edane seated in the stands by herself, the Lady Maxwell had come to join her. “You are living by the rules of someone else’s making when you’ve the opportunity to live outside them.”
“I’ve no notion what you mean,” said Edane, staring out over the dueling rings. Leith and Colin would be battling soon. For now, the two were watching Lord Percival fight a very competent Adam Maclean. To the naked eye, it did not look like Adam was trying to throw the match, but he certainly was not winning it. As she knew what the outcome was to be, Edane was hardly paying attention.
“What I mean is that the rules that govern us women are strict and ridiculous. But we must live by them. You, on the other hand – people expect you to take lovers. My dear, you are beautiful enough to have the world at your feet. If you chose, you could have all manner of men eating out of the palm of your hand. I’m sure you’ve heard stories of the King’s former mistress?”
Yes. Edane had heard about a number of the King’s former mistresses. Urbane, savvy women who’d used their influence to great end. “Well she did not have Margaret to contend with,” Edane argued. “Also, I don’t want the world at my feet, and I’m not so experienced as to think I might be able to keep the king’s attention long enough to earn any influence.”
“Edane, you seem very prepared to offer a list of reasons as to why yo
u can’t get something done, and you don’t seem to be all that interested in taking your own future into your hands. You are a woman. You are not helpless.”
Edane refused to argue further. What Lady Maxwell was suggesting was beyond distasteful…
“You only think that because you haven’t done it yet” said Lady Maxwell, seeming to read Edane’s silence and deliver an elbow into the girl’s ribs. “Which is why I suggest bedding the Macleod.”
She pointed to where Leith had appeared on the outside of the circle, watching his friend lose.
“He’ll give you a good ride, and he’ll give you the experience you need to seduce the King and ensure you stay in his favor.”
Edane’s cheeks were flushing.
“I’m not wrong, girl,” said Lady Maxwell. “Better your first time with the highlander than with the King. And I wouldn’t worry about the King thinking you’re a virgin. He won’t care.”
Edane wanted to respond. It was easy for a woman like Lady Maxwell to fantasize about living without rules - but Edane was governed by the same rules that applied to Lady Maxwell. Bedding Leith Macleod or the king out of wedlock would make her a harlot, a pariah, and would win her no friends at court. But do you have friends now? And convincing someone like Leith Macleod to marry a clan chief’s bastard daughter… She shook her head. Leith wouldn’t want to marry her anyway. He wanted what most men wanted from her.
“Where are you going?” asked the Lady, and Edane realized that she’d risen to her feet.
“For a walk,” said Edane, realizing that, more than anything, she wanted to see Leith. Leith might have taken liberties, but she’d welcomed them, and he’d showed her kindness last night in the stables.
Edane made her way around the ring towards where Leith and his cousin were warming up for Leith’s match. They’d attracted a small audience, made up mostly of women, and Edane joined their ranks. Folding her arms over her chest, she watched Leith stretch out his arms and lean in to say something to his cousin.
