A Saint at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Six

by Barclay, Celeste

  A collective silence fell over those who’d been listening to the exchange. The sudden hush made people from other tables turn to see what happened. Lady Blair stood from the table, her chin held high, her back straight, and her shoulders back. She dared the MacMillans to say anything more. Neither brother opened his mouth, but the vindictive gleam was clear.

  “Touch Lady Blair, and I will chop ye up and send ye back to yer parents like haggis,” Hardi warned. He wrapped Blair’s arm around his, and the onlookers parted for them as they walked to where couples gathered waiting for the music to begin. When they found a spot where they could speak quietly, Hardi released Blair’s arm, both knowing it was for decorum. “Are ye angry that I didna step in to defend ye?”

  “Nay. Ye were there when I needed ye. Are ye insulted that I fought yer battle?” Blair bit her lip.

  Hardi leaned forward. “I would vera much like to be the one biting that lip, so unless ye want a scene of another sort, I wouldnae keep tempting me.” He straightened with a wink. “And I amnae insulted. I told the truth when I said I’m proud of ye, and ye are more intelligent than any of us men. This was as much aboot yer reputation as it was mine. I kenned ye’d run circles around those two eejits. I would’ve stepped in if ye wanted me to, but I wasna going to let anyone think ye arenae strong enough to stand on yer own two feet. Ye arenae a weak woman, Blair, so I willna treat ye as one. I will protect ye with ma dying breath, but I respect ye and yer ability to speak for yerself.”

  “How did ye become so sage at such a young age?” Blair asked.

  “Yer da. I watched how he treats yer mama,” Hardi smiled. “I told ye, I have spent every day since I met Laird Hamish Sutherland trying to be the mon he is. I dinna always get it right, but I try ma damnedest.”

  Blair nodded as she blinked back tears. When the lump in her throat dissolved enough for her to speak, she whispered. “I dinna want to dance, Hardi. I want to be far away with just ye. But if we leave, then the rumors will only be worse.”

  “I ken, fear glic.”

  “I dinna think I’m the wise one,” Blair offered a watery smile. “I meant every word I said aboot ye, Hardi.”

  The music began. Blair and Hardi were both relieved that it was a set that would keep them together rather than forcing them to switch partners. Hardi held Blair closer than was appropriate, but Blair longed for the contact as much as he did. She locked stares with Hardi as he led them around the floor. They could tell when something shifted between them, something shifted within each of them.

  “I love ye, Blair,” Hardi kept his tone hushed, but his words were clear.

  “I love ye, Hardi. I dinna need any more time to decide if I want to marry ye. I ken I do.” Blair didn’t blink as she confessed her feelings, wanting Hardi to know that she didn’t waver or hesitate. Blair looked over at King Robert and Queen Elizabeth as they watched their subjects from their elevated seats on the dais. “What do ye think the king will say?”

  “I pray he finds me worthy of his goddaughter,” Hardi said sheepishly.

  “If he doesnae, I will remind him of just how obstinate I was as a child. I havenae changed. I’ve just found better ways to get what I want.” The stubborn tilt to Blair’s chin and the defiant gleam in her eyes reminded Hardi of what King Robert also knew.

  “I’m grateful ye’re on ma side, lass.” Hardi pulled her closer. “Tha mi a ’gealltainn a bhith nad dhuine math dhut, a ghràidh.” Blair’s breath hitched as Hardi said “I promise to be a good husband to you, my love.”

  Blair once again swallowed down the lump in her throat before responding. “Tha mi a ’mionnachadh gur e am bean as fheàrr as urrainn dhomh a bhith, mo chridhe.” Blair meant it with every fiber of her being when she told Hardi “I swear to be the best wife I can be, my heart.” They continued dancing until one song blended into the next.

  “Hardi, I dinna want to keep hiding. I dinna want how I feel to be a secret like I’m ashamed of what we’re doing, of who ye are.”

  “Do ye think King Robert would grant me an audience tomorrow?” Hardi shifted his gaze to the dais.

  “I dinna ken, but I dinna plan to wait. I’ll risk abusing ma privilege of being their goddaughter if it means I ken we can marry,” Blair answered. Hardi slid her hand into his as they squeezed their way between the dancers until they reached the dais, the royal couple noticing their joined hands at first glance.

  Sixteen

  “Lady Blair, you have the same look aboot you that you did when you were a wee lass and put out by Lachlan, Michael, Dougal and, I believe, the mon standing beside you. Somehow, I don’t think another piece of candied honey will solve this,” King Robert spoke from the dais. “Does this have to do with the stir you caused with the MacMillans?”

  Blair dipped into an elegant curtsy as Hardi bowed. She looked at King Robert then Queen Elizabeth before returning her gaze to King Robert. “I didn’t begin the disagreement with Henry and Daniel MacMillan, but I did end it. I’m not put out by Laird Cameron at all, and while I will never turn down candied honey, no, it won’t solve what I’ve come to you aboot.” Blair gave King Robert a pointed look as her lips tightened into a thin line before turning down.

  “You may approach, Lady Blair,” Queen Elizabeth intoned. “You may as well come along, Laird Cameron.” When Blair and Hardi stood across the table from the royal couple, Queen Elizabeth’s smile was benevolent, while King Robert’s was skeptical.

  “I assume you’re here to tell me you refuse to move forward with the Macquarie betrothal and that you intend to turn down the Donald too,” the king guessed.

  “Yer Majesty, Lady Una wouldnae be an appropriate choice to become Lady Cameron. Ye are aware of the position in which ma clan finds itself. The Camerons need—deserve—a selfless, judicious, and thoughtful lady,” Hardi explained.

  “And will you tell Laird Macquarie that his daughter is not those things?” King Robert pressed.

  “Nay. There’s nae reason to be hurtful. Ma uncle considered Lady Una for Angus, but it wasna until David became his heir that he inquired. David and I were of the same opinion of Lady Una. She may make a mon a suitable wife one day, but it wouldnae have been either of us. I dinna think I need to haver on aboot it when ye can see for yerself who I wish to marry. I dinna doubt ye are aware of everything Lady Blair and I have discussed and what she’s taught me since we began using the scriptorium. Ye also ken we’ve been well suited to one another since we were adolescents.”

  “Laird Cameron, we’ve known you and Lady Blair would have made an excellent match since the first time we visited Dunbeath a month after you arrived to foster,” Queen Elizabeth interjected. “It doesn’t come as a surprise that you stand before us. But it was my understanding that you believed this was not the right time for you to take a wife.”

  “It wasna before I realized Blair—Lady Blair is the woman I need,” Hardi replied.

  “Need to be Lady Cameron,” King Robert clarified.

  “Nay. The woman I need to be ma wife, ma partner. With that comes being Lady Cameron, but I believe Lady Blair would marry me even if I was still seventh in line to inherit. And I ken I would still ask to marry her even if I was just a laird’s guard, and she was meant to marry a laird.”

  “Do you share his sentiments, Lady Blair?” King Robert asked.

  “Aye, Your Majesty. Laird Cameron sent a missive to my father to request permission to court me and, in time, marry me. I believe my parents will support this union, and I believe you know that.” Blair’s expression challenged the king to disagree.

  “So, you are here to demand my approval,” King Robert stated.

  “Nae demand, Yer Majesty. I would ask yer permission, just as I did Laird Sutherland’s,” Hardi spoke up.

  “And if I say no?” King Robert retorted.

  “I’ll marry him anyway,” Blair blurted. She knew what the king was doing, and she’d engaged in his game for as long as she was willing. Her encounter with the MacMillans shredded h
er patience and goodwill. She took a step forward, scowling at the guards who moved toward the royal couple. “Uncle Robert, I have asked one thing of you since I arrived here, and it wasn’t for my sake. The only other requests I’ve ever made were not those one asks a king, but what a wee lass asks her uncle. Rides upon your shoulders, candies and treats, and—well, I suppose I asked you to banish Lachlan and Michael—but you ken none of your godchildren have ever tried to abuse their position. I’m not asking you as my king. I’m asking you as my Uncle Robert, who can grant this in my father’s stead.”

  “You ken it’s not as simple as that, Blair,” King Robert shook his head.

  “And you ken it is in my family. We marry for love. Even Callum and Siùsan, and Tavish and Ceit. Both couples fell in love before they married, even if you and Uncle Liam arranged their marriages. I love Hardi, Uncle Robert. Please. You ken me as well as you do Marjorie. You know I’m telling the truth.” Blair took a leap, mentioning the king’s daughter. “Aunt Elizabeth just said Hardi and I have been an obvious match since we were children.”

  “I did say that,” Queen Elizabeth interjected. “But it has also been several years since you’ve spent a prolonged amount of time around one another. Less than a moon is not very long. How can you be sure?”

  Blair was growing frustrated. She knew her godfather was being awkward for the sake of it, and she knew her godmother was trying to protect her. But she was emotionally spent, and she didn’t want to play the game of courtly manipulation. She’d hoped she might talk to her extended family rather than her monarchs. Her shoulders slumped until she felt Hardi step beside her. He wrapped Blair’s arm around his, so anyone standing behind them would think little of how they stood, but Hardi’s hand covered Blair’s smaller one. It was comforting and protective in the way she’d once described to Lachlan that she wanted.

  “Blair has attempted to ask ye as her family to help. Now I am asking ye as a laird of a clan that pledged its support to ye, King Robert, and yer cause from the vera beginning. We have been naught but loyal. We havenae asked for aught, even when ye have seen fit to reward us. If an alliance wasna being considered, then I wouldnae have fostered at Dunrobin. Whether Laird Sutherland considered Dougal or me, I dinna ken, but he and ma uncle meant it to ally our clans. Marriage will make that permanent.” Hardi squeezed Blair’s hand. He glanced down at her the same time Queen Elizabeth leaned forward. “Blair?”

  “I’m all right. I’m just tired. Your Majesty, may I be excused?” Blair attempted to dip into a curtsy, but when she wobbled, Hardi’s hand gripped her elbow to steady her.

  “Lady Blair, I haven’t said no. I will consider your request.” King Robert leaned his arms on the table as he stretched toward her. “Lass, your Uncle Robert is satisfied that Hardi will make an exemplary husband for you. It’s obvious he cares for you and will be a loving husband. If it were Uncle Robert who ruled this land, I would have you married by morn. But King Robert must consider what is best for Scotland. The Macquaries are not an influential clan, but they are located along a coast I need their help to defend. I must consider whether a Sutherland daughter would create a better alliance elsewhere.”

  Blair blinked several times before she nodded. She couldn’t explain what happened, but it was as though the last dregs of energy leeched from her. She was too tired to continue to fight that night, but she hadn’t given up. She was as stubborn as she’d warned Hardi, and the king’s evasiveness wouldn’t dissuade her. She needed time to rest and clear her mind before she planned her next approach.

  “Lass,” King Robert drew her attention. “I did the same before Maude and Kieran married. If I hadn’t thought it was a match than not only made Maude happy but was good for the Highlands, I would have said no.”

  Blair nodded. She turned her exhausted face to Hardi and nodded to him before turning away from the dais. Hardi shot a glare at the king that he wouldn’t have dared if the change that came over Blair didn’t worry him so much. Hardi registered the shock on King Robert’s face before the king called out to Blair.

  “Blair?” She turned back to the king, and he waved her closer. “Your evening hasn’t gone well, and I suspect you need a good night’s sleep. But I shouldn’t take this sudden quietness as resignation, should I? You still intend to have your way, don’t you?”

  Blair lifted her chin but didn’t answer. A spark of defiance took hold, and she was certain the king read it in her face when he continued. “Bluidy hell. I may as well say yes. Everyone in your family seems to solve their problems with a handfast. If I don’t relent now, for all I ken you’ll be wed by morning.” Robert gestured for Blair to step up to the table. “Blair, I ken you like my Marjorie, and I love you like a niece. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m conceding now because sometimes being a father and an uncle need to come first.”

  Blair smiled as she reached her hands across the table. King Robert took one while Queen Elizabeth took the other. “Thank you,” Blair rasped. “I love you both, too.”

  Seventeen

  Blair felt much improved in the morning. After leaving the Great Hall, Hardi had walked her to her chamber, but she could hear Arabella and her maid moving around within, so they said an all-too-brief goodnight. Hardi pressed a kiss to Blair’s lips as they embraced. Neither wanted to let go, but approaching voices forced Hardi to dash from the ladies-in-waiting passageway. She broke her fast after Mass, Queen Elizabeth granting her permission to sit beside Hardi in the kirk and in the Great Hall. It declared to all and sundry that not only were Hardi and Blair courting, but the royal couple approved. Blair wasn’t certain how to describe the limbo in which they found themselves. Without Hamish present or contracts sent to him, there was no way to set the betrothal. The king could order them to marry, but Hamish and Hardi still needed to agree to the dowry and bride price, then sign the documents.

  Blair and Hardi drafted another missive to her parents explaining that the king granted his blessing for them to marry, and they wished to move forward. Blair wondered if the messenger carrying the newest missive would encounter the one returning with Hamish and Amelia’s first response. She knew her father would never respond without first listening to her mother’s opinion. Hamish might have the official say, but Blair and Hardi addressed both missives to Hamish and Amelia. As Hardi sat beside Blair while they drafted the letter together, he was stuck by how natural it felt to work alongside one another.

  “Blair, would ye consider sharing ma solar once we return to Tor Castle?” Hardi asked unexpectedly.

  Blair lowered the quill and looked at him. “Share yer solar?”

  “Aye. When ye are working on the accounts and such, would ye work on them in our shared solar?”

  Blair laid the quill down and leaned forward to kiss Hardi before the priests in the scriptorium could censor them. “I would like that vera much, ma laird.” Blair grinned. Hardi dropped a kiss on her nose.

  “I’m nae yer laird, Blair. I want to be yer husband, and that makes us equal. Ye dinna serve me or belong to me.” Hardi took Blair’s left hand in his, running his thumb over where he prayed a ring would soon sit. “I ken I will need yer help for quite some time in the beginning, but I dinna want ye to think that’s why I’d like to share the chamber with ye. I want to be near ye because I enjoy yer company, because it feels right to sit beside ye.”

  “I understood that, but I appreciate ye saying it. I feel the same way,” Blair squeezed his hand before turning back to finish the missive. When they felt they had included sufficient details, she passed the quill to Hardi. They’d been practicing every day so that Hardi could affix his signature with confidence and clear penmanship. Hardi folded the parchment and sealed it with wax that he imprinted with his signet ring. They opted for a day away from the books and lessons. After Hardi handed the missive to a page with specific instructions that a messenger was to leave immediately, Blair and Hardi went to the kitchens to gather the picnic baskets she requested. Hardi grinned when he discovered
she’d ordered three instead of two.

  “Is one of these just for ye, or will ye share the scraps with me again?” Hardi teased.

  “Ye can see if yer guards will share. The meat pies and apple tarts are mine, mo chridhe,” Blair teased. Heat passed between them at the simple term of affection. With their hands full and a kitchen filled with servants, there was little they could do. Hardi carried two baskets while Blair maneuvered the third until Tomas caught sight and rushed to help her. She looked for Buannaiche, but her horse wasn’t in the bailey.

  “Ye ride with me today, lass,” Hardi whispered behind her. “I amnae missing an opportunity to feel ye pressed against me with ma arms around ye.”

  “And if I should want to ride pillion, so I can wrap ma arms around ye?” Blair giggled.

  “Mayhap I’ll consider it on the way back.” Hardi lifted her into the saddle and pulled himself onto the horse behind her, giving her no chance to argue or move. As Hardi nudged his horse forward, Blair fell back against Hardi’s chest. She realized that she was much happier in the cocoon of his arms than she would be trying to reach her arms around his broad back. Hardi chuckled as Blair nestled closer. “Nae so bad?”