Stolen Brides: Four Beauty-and-the-Beast Medieval Romances

by Claire Delacroix

  Annoyed anew, Aileen donned the chemise and kirtle with Nissa’s aid, then smiled approvingly at the lowered hem. “Your needle has been busy again, Nissa.” Aileen spun for the maid’s benefit and found her own spirits rising, as she delighted that her ankles were gracefully covered.

  The girl beamed with pride. “I lengthened the hem for you, my lady. I am almost done with the first trunk, though I slept little last night. It seemed right to me that as you are the Lady of Inverfyre, these garments are for you, and I know how disappointing it is when garb does not fit. The laird agreed.”

  “Nissa! This is uncommonly kind of you.”

  Nissa flushed scarlet, then dropped to her knees before Aileen. “You can barely discern the mark of the old hem on this one, and there is a good bit of cloth on most of them. There are several that will need a band of embroidery or some other frippery to lengthen them fully.”

  “Do you not think this garb too fine for a day without guests or festivities?”

  The girl smiled. “They are all so fine, my lady.” She flicked at the hem again, frowning at a fold.

  “Nissa!” Aileen seized the girl’s busy hands to still them. “This is a marvelous gift and I thank you for your kindness. Let me aid you with the others and let me grant you some favor in gratitude. What would you have of me?”

  The girl sighed as if she could not believe her fortune. Then she clasped her hands together in her lap and gazed up at Aileen. “I would be honorably wed, my lady, to a good man. I would have a small house and bairns of my own, though still I would serve you well. Would you find me a man of merit?”

  Aileen smiled. “Have you a particular man in mind?”

  Nissa’s gaze clouded and she looked away before she shook her head. Aileen would have wagered that the girl lied. “I would trust your judgment, my lady.”

  “Then I shall look for a man just as you desire, and perhaps, when a priest comes to live at Inverfyre, your nuptials will be among the first celebrated here.”

  “Oh, but they cannot be,” Nissa said hastily. “The first ceremony that must be celebrated at Inverfyre is the investiture of the relic in the chapel.”

  Aileen frowned in confusion. She knew a church could only be sacred if graced by a holy relic, but she assumed Inverfyre’s chapel already had such a relic. “Is the relic not already in the chapel?”

  “Of course not!” Nissa shook her head at this foolish notion. “For then, the MacLaren clan would have possession of it!”

  “I do not understand.”

  “The chapel of Inverfyre, the old chapel, is on the original site of the keep. That is the land held by the MacLaren clan.”

  “Then, where is the relic?”

  Nissa flushed and studied the hem again. “It is said to be a secret.”

  “But you know.”

  She straightened and met Aileen’s gaze. “I found it within the trunk of the garments destined for you. The Hawk bade me work upon one trunk, but I opened the other when I was done. I meant no harm! The Titulus was there, wrapped in silk at the bottom. I left it be, of course, though I did touch it with my fingertips.”

  “And asked for a husband?” Aileen teased.

  The maid flushed. “It seemed an opportunity that would be folly to waste.”

  Aileen pursed her lips and considered this. She stared out the window at the distant MacLaren keep. Was it possible that the Hawk waited to summon a priest until he held that old chapel? Was it possible that he counseled patience because he meant to claim that land soon?

  Or did she grant him more noble motives than he possessed?

  “And what would you see of Inverfyre this day?” Nissa asked, apparently convinced that all was resolved.

  “The village, and then the dungeon,” Aileen said firmly, holding up a finger when the girl might have protested. “It is the solemn duty of the lady of the keep to ensure that all beneath the laird’s care are treated with justice and compassion”

  “But my lady…”

  “None will oppose me, Nissa. I am the Lady of Inverfyre and I mean to do this.”

  “But the laird…”

  “Has ridden to hunt and left me free to go wheresoever I will within Inverfyre’s walls. You told me as much, did you not?” Aileen paused while Nissa nodded, the maiden clearly displeased with the lady’s choice. “We will visit the village first, to ensure that none of the laird’s vassals are in need of care, then we will confirm the prisoner is well.” She offered the band of worked silver with a smile. “Might you aid me in donning the circlet, please?”

  The Hawk felled a buck in the late afternoon but found no triumph even in that kill. The sky was darkening with ominous clouds, the snow beginning to fall. The Hawk took the deer with a single arrow, his squires cheering when the magnificent beast tumbled to earth.

  The Hawk dismounted and cast aside his reins, handing off his falcon to one of Tarsuinn’s boys. His horse stood its ground, nostrils quivering at the scent of blood as the Hawk gutted the deer with quick gestures. There were foragers in the forest who would welcome the offal and the cook would have enough labor this day without the gutting as well.

  He pulled the sweetmeats from the entrails and granted them to the boy from the kitchens, except for the liver. He took his peregrine back upon his fist, noting the brightness of her gaze as he held the warm meat in his other gloved hand.

  This was her reward for a day of diligence. It had been she who had spotted the buck and flown above it, and she who had killed a dozen rabbits. She was tired but yet restless, for she had not fed.

  The Hawk began to hum the feeding song chosen specifically for this bird and she became even more tense in expectation. She devoured her reward greedily, tearing at it with her talons and spattering her feathers with blood in her haste to consume it. The Hawk permitted her solely a portion, for too much of its richness would make her ill. She expected as much and ate with undue haste, snatching after the flesh with an anguished cry when he took the bulk of it away from her.

  She screamed outrage and flapped her wings, fighting her tethers as Tarsuinn accepted the rest to divide it between the other peregrines. The Hawk hooded her and held her tethers fast. He spoke to her quietly, stroked her with his fingertip and she settled, then groomed herself with undisguised satisfaction.

  Meanwhile, his men trussed the buck’s feet to a stake and hefted its weight. A pair of them carried it back toward the hall, all of the party discussing the better moments of the hunt.

  “Do you tire of our excursion yet, my lord?” Ahearn demanded with a smile.

  “Ah, yes, Ahearn would hasten back to the keep to coax the affections of a reluctant maiden,” Sebastien teased. “Every moment gone is a moment lost, is it not?” He laughed uproariously at his own apparent jest, though Ahearn only scowled.

  “I think only of our responsibilities at the gates,” that man retorted.

  Even the Hawk raised a brow. “How uncommon that you should be fretful for our security. This reluctant demoiselle must be a rare prize.”

  Ahearn colored as the company looked at him in curiosity and Sebastien laughed.

  “I ask only if we return,” Ahearn said stubbornly. “I vowed to relieve Ewen at midday, which is long past.”

  “Ah, Ewen,” Sebastien mused, his eyes dancing with mischief. “There is a man who might steal a maiden’s heart. He is not hard upon the eyes, he is tall and broad of shoulder. Indeed, does he not hail from the same land as your fair maiden? They might have so much in common that even our quiet Ewen found much to say.”

  Ahearn’s eyes flashed, but whatever he might have replied was silenced by the echo of a clarion call. The men paused and glanced back toward Inverfyre as one. The call came again, a signal not of attack but of guests arrived at Inverfyre. The snowflakes began to tumble in earnest from the sky as the Hawk and his men swung into their saddles again.

  Sebastien’s merry manner was dismissed. “Did you expect guests, my lord?”

  “Yes and no.”
The Hawk nodded to the company, who began to herd the dogs homeward, then lowered his voice to speak to his cohorts. “It would have been most uncommon if my lady’s father had not taken exception to the manner of her departure. I would have been surprised if Nigel Urquhart of Abernye had not demanded an explanation of me.”

  Ahearn’s smile flashed. “Do you mean to surrender the lady, my lord?”

  The Hawk let his quelling glance be the sole answer he granted.

  Sebastien snorted. “A prize hard won is not casually surrendered.” The Sicilian’s expression turned wry. “But then, you know little of keeping women, let alone of keeping them content, Ahearn. Your attention is so fleeting that you have never so troubled yourself. Is that this tempting damsel’s concern?”

  “While your manner has so little appeal that you must scheme to capture any woman’s affection,” Ahearn retorted. “Save your barbs, Sebastien, for I know that they come from thwarted desires of your own.”

  The Hawk understood that there was some matter between these two. A woman’s charms were at root of this trivial rivalry, no doubt. It had happened before and would undoubtedly happen again.

  In truth, he was more concerned with the prospect of guests. The timing of their arrival could not have been worse—or more suspect.

  Yet, the Hawk’s greatest fear was not that his scheme for this very night might be foiled. Nay, he feared that his decision to leave Aileen’s bed the night before had been poorly timed. Might she insist upon leaving Inverfyre with her father? Might she confide in her kin that their match had not been consummated?

  Might she be lost to him?

  The Hawk spurred his steed, making all haste back to Inverfyre, his heart pounding as it had upon his awakening in the early hours of the morning.

  Aileen found little but curiosity in Inverfyre’s village. Children ran to meet her, their garb simple but clean and their cheeks rosy with good health. The brewster was the first to bow before her, though he was quickly followed by the baker and the miller. The miller’s adult son cast shy but appreciative glances at Nissa, glances that the maid did not notice. Aileen found this intriguing, as the maid professed to be seeking a spouse.

  It was yet more evidence that Nissa’s heart was already captured.

  The women came hesitantly behind these men of the village, their manner warming as Aileen greeted them kindly. A small girl touched Aileen’s samite kirtle with wonder and Aileen touched her hair. The child flushed, then ran to hide behind her mother’s skirts. A crowd gathered as word spread that the lady had come to meet them.

  They were good people, friendly and hard-working. The village was clean and well-organized, small gardens behind each of the houses and a trough for slops carved down the middle of the path. Aileen heard more than one pig in the gardens and chickens scattered before her as she walked.

  The brewster took it upon himself to petition her earnestly for more pasturage and better guard of what few fields were tilled beyond the walls. It seemed that what little they tilled at Inverfyre was precious, though much grain was purchased by the Hawk at the market in Edinburgh. Aileen learned that the MacLarens had raided crops in the past, diverted the river, stolen sheep and killed chickens. She asked the brewster to consider what lands might best be cleared so that he would have firm suggestions by the time she discussed the matter with the Hawk.

  The people were amenable to this and greeted Aileen’s counsel with approval. She asked after the capture of fish, as it was Lent and she had only been served meat in the hall. She learned there were some fish in the river, but that they were not so plentiful here, perhaps because the river ran so fast. She considered the prospect of creating a pond where eels might be raised and the miller vowed to ask his brother for advice.

  One father asked her whether his son might be apprenticed to the falconer, another if his boy could learn the arts of war. Aileen carefully gathered names into her memory and vowed to present their requests to her spouse.

  Overall, Aileen was impressed. The people seemed content with the Hawk’s leadership, if vexed with the continuing state of war. They had regular courts and fair tithes, though there was more that she could do. If she could have taken maidens into the keep for service without risking their virginity, the bonds betwixt vassal and laird would be much improved.

  Nissa hovered beside Aileen, ensuring that she learned the names of every vassal she met. The maid’s assistance was invaluable. Aileen met Gunna’s young niece and repeated her pledge to that child’s mother that she hoped to install a priest at Inverfyre. This notion was met with approval, though many recalled the tragedy of Malcolm’s death. Aileen did not dare ask for details, as it was assumed she knew more of the matter than they.

  “They seem healthy indeed,” Aileen murmured to Nissa as they strolled back toward the gates.

  The maid nodded. “Praise be to the Hawk’s demons, for he always hunts after they visit him.” She smiled at Aileen’s confusion. “There will be meat for all on the morrow, upon that we can rely.”

  His demons?

  X

  Aileen had no chance to ask what Nissa meant, for the girl clutched her arm. “Look! It is Margery.”

  A young woman with a long tawny braid over her shoulder was retching into the ditch. Aileen would not have troubled her, but clearly, she and Nissa were friends. Nissa called out to the other woman, then embraced her and clucked over her embarrassment. Margery turned crimson when she realized that the Lady of Inverfyre was directly at hand, then she bowed low.

  Margery, Aileen noted, was rounding with child, though her ring finger was barren. Her eyes were reddened, as if she had been weeping, and Aileen guessed that the man responsible for her state had refused to wed her honorably.

  They spoke only briefly, for the other woman was clearly uncomfortable. No doubt she was shamed amongst her fellows. Aileen’s determination to see a priest at Inverfyre—and the warriors answer for their pleasures—was redoubled.

  “Is there any soul within these walls with a talent for mixing herbs?” Aileen asked when they left Margery, thinking of that woman’s discomfort.

  Nissa was wary. “Perhaps.”

  “Then, I would have you fetch him or her and ask for a potion for Margery. Though I recall little of the herb itself, I believe there is a concoction that could ease her illness without injuring her child.”

  “Perhaps another soul might fetch him,” Nissa fairly growled.

  Aileen halted, surprised that the maid was not helpful in this matter. “Is Margery not your friend? Do you not wish to aid her?”

  “Of course I do!” Nissa’s lips set and her eyes flashed. “But I would sell my soul afore I ask a favor of Ahearn.”

  “Ahearn?” Understanding dawned within Aileen but she gave no outward sign of it. “Is he not the mischievous one in the Hawk’s company?”

  “He is none other.” Nissa tossed her hair with a vigor that fed Aileen’s suspicions. “Perhaps you might send another to coax him to use his healing skills, my lady. I know well enough what his price will be and I will surrender no kiss to Ahearn O’Donnell, even for Margery.”

  “You are without compassion,” Aileen observed, biting back a smile.

  “Is her illness not wrought of her own deed?”

  “Nissa! Do not speak so unkindly!”

  Nissa flushed and Aileen knew the girl had lost her heart. “It will avail nothing to avoid the man and indeed, it is not possible to do so in a keep such as this. You will fetch Ahearn this very day and entreat him to aid Margery, regardless of his price.”

  “But, my lady…”

  Aileen smiled and patted the girl’s arm. “And while you speak with Ahearn, I see no reason not to mention that the miller’s son means to court you.”

  Nissa’s eyes widened in surprise. “Does he?”

  “By the way he watched you, he could be encouraged with but a crook of your finger. A miller’s son might be the perfect match for you, after all,” Aileen said, watching the unha
ppy maid carefully. “His trade pays good coin in any year and he never travels far from home, as he must tend the stones. I think you could find your reliable spouse in a miller’s son, no less your little house and wee bairns.”

  Nissa showed a telling lack of enthusiasm for this notion. “I thank you for your good counsel, my lady,” she said, her tone so flat that Aileen knew Ahearn would not be forgotten so readily as that.

  Perhaps he was similarly plagued by thoughts of Nissa, though only time would tell.

  “Hasten yourself, Nissa.” Aileen picked up her skirts and left the village. “The midday meal is upon us, then we must visit the dungeon afore the Hawk returns.”

  “Oh no, my lady!”

  “Oh yes, Nissa.”

  The Hawk’s cohort, Reinhard, was disinclined to grant Aileen admission to the dungeons. The Bavarian mercenary made a formidable obstacle, filling the portal with his body as he crossed his arms and braced his feet against the ground. His hair was a dark auburn, his eyes a green that approached brown, and his manner both taciturn and inflexible. Aileen despaired of slipping past him, much less of winning his agreement to her scheme, but she would not surrender so readily as this.

  “It is no place for a lady, my lady,” the warrior said, polite but firm. “I could not countenance your entry.”

  “It is the duty of the lady of any holding to ensure that prisoners are not poorly treated,” Aileen insisted. She indicated the basket over her arm. “I have brought him only bread, a quaff of ale and a piece of cheese. All of it is cut in pieces and I have no knife upon my person. I welcome your perusal of it all.”

  Reinhard did not as much as blink. “There is no point in doing so, my lady, as you will not proceed beyond me.”

  Aileen straightened. “I assure you that I performed this duty often in my father’s abode. At times, a prisoner has need of care, a wound stitches or a boil lanced. Although many men would leave their prisoners to rot, compassion oft earns greater gains than a lack of mercy.”