Chapter Seven
CHAPTER SEVEN
“D rink!” Lares roared.
Fergus slammed more ale down his throat.
The two of them were sitting on the wall of Moy Castle—literally. They were seated on the wall walk, their legs hanging over the side, with a twenty-foot drop below them where the ground sloped into a lake that was full of little creatures who were making noise against the backdrop of the night. Between them sat a scratched earthenware pitcher that had been full of the strongest drink Lares had ever tasted. They’d found it in the vault of Moy when they were looking for things to take with them, a drink that seemed to be fermented from pears or apples or something that made it terribly strong, with a hell of a bite to it.
But it would do the job it was designed to do.
It would convince Fergus that Eventide was meant for Darien.
“God,” Fergus grunted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What is that stuff?”
“Why? Do ye not like it?”
“It tastes like lightning! My stomach will think I’m punishing it!”
Lares laughed loudly, slapping Fergus on the back. “That’s because ye are,” he said, pouring more into Fergus’ dirty cup. “Drink it. We’ve much tae celebrate this night.”
Fergus lifted the cup and looked at it as if unsure he was ready to pour that molten fire down his throat again. “So,” he muttered, “ye want Evie for Darien, do ye?”
Lares sighed heavily. “The truth is what I told ye,” he said. “He’ll not take Emelia, even if yer men return her. He says he’ll not take Cannich’s leavings. Can ye blame him?”
Truthfully, Fergus couldn’t, but he wasn’t ready to admit it yet. “Damnation,” he growled. “That damn lass is always getting intae trouble. But now she’s done it. She’s done it good.”
Lares nodded, drunkenly clanking his cup against Fergus’ in agreement before downing the contents and grabbing his throat when it burned. “Christ,” he said hoarsely. “Look at my neck. Did that stuff burn a hole in it?”
Fergus peered at his neck. “Nay,” he said. “’Tis the same wrinkled neck it always was.”
Lares frowned. “My wife likes it just fine,” he said. “And speaking of wives, do we have an agreement? Darien says Evie is a good lass. She’ll make a fine wife for an important advisor tae Robert Stewart. She’ll have a good life, Fergus. Better than she would with Luke Cannich.”
Fergus wasn’t hard pressed to agree. “I know,” he said, feeling his liquor. Plainly, he was drunk. “I knew he wasna good enough for her, but she needs tae wed. And I wanted her near me. Is that so bad?”
Lares put his arm around the man’s neck in a companionable gesture. “Nay,” he said. “Of course ye want tae keep her close. She’s yer youngest.”
Fergus nodded, thinking on the flame-haired lass who was the only decent person in the entire family. “She is,” he said. “Emelia was the troublemaker and always had my attention. Evie was neglected, sorry tae say, and she knows it. But ye say ye want half of Emelia’s dowry because of what’s happened?”
Lares nodded. “I think it’s fair,” he said. “Ye promised my lad a bride and wealth. Ye can still provide that. And Emelia and Luke should be punished for what they did. Surely ye canna think tae give Cannich Emelia’s dowry? The lad doesna deserve it for what he’s done.”
“True.”
“But ye dunna want tae leave them destitute.”
“Nay, I dunna.”
“So ye only give him half of what he’s expecting,” Lares said, grinning. “That will infuriate him, and he deserves it for what he’s done.”
“Do ye think so?”
“Of course I do,” Lares said. “Why do ye think he ran away with Emelia? Because she has everything that was going tae go tae Darien. Luke knew that if he married Emelia, it would go tae him.”
Fergus frowned. “’Tis true,” he mumbled. “The thieving wretch. If he married her—”
Lares cut him off. “And ye know he did.”
“ If he did,” Fergus continued, “then the titles and the land are his. But the money…”
Lares started laughing, slapping him on the back. “Ye control the money, my friend,” he said. “Ye should give it all tae Darien. That would truly infuriate Luke!”
They cackled like hens. Fergus ended up downing more of that fire water until he could hardly see straight, but he didn’t care. Eventide would marry Darien instead of Luke, and Darien would get the dowry meant for Emelia.
Seemed like a damn fine plan to him.
Darien was with Aurelius and Estevan when one of his father’s men summoned him. He found Lares and Fergus still on the wall, only they were quite drunk at that point, so much so that Darien urged them off the wall so one of them wouldn’t fall and break his neck. He had to help the two giddy old men down to the ward where the army was digging in for the night. Evidently, they’d located more of that liquid lightning, so the men were getting drunk around the bonfires that littered the yard.
That was when Lares told Darien that he, once again, had a bride.
Eventide.
Unlike the sensation he’d had when he was told that he was betrothed to Emelia, which was something between nausea and a genuine pain in his gut, Darien realized he felt quite happy about this announcement. Both Lares and Fergus told him that he would marry Eventide at a date and time of his choosing, and after the wave of surprise washed over him, he was left feeling overwhelmed. Overwhelmed that he would actually marry a woman he liked, someone he had respect for. Someone he was strongly attracted to. That flame-haired beauty would carry the dun Tarh name, and she would bear sons with that same flaming hair, the thought of which put a smile on his face.
How proud he’d be.
As his father and Fergus eventually passed out in the hall of Moy because of the strong ale, Darien couldn’t sleep. He wanted to see Eventide and tell her what had transpired, but the night was dark and cold, so he waited until the eastern horizon began to turn shades of pink and blue before departing Moy for Blackrock.
It was a fresh, new day.
For him, a fresh, new life.
The ride from Moy to Blackrock was only about twenty miles. However, what started out as a leisurely ride turned into something at a more clipped pace because the more the day advanced, the more excited Darien became. Although he’d never received the impression that Eventide was interested in him romantically, he knew the conversations they’d had were interesting and meaningful and, at times, even warm. Eventide had a natural charm about her, something he found as alluring as her beauty. She was easy to talk to, and that wasn’t a common quality. Darien knew he could be direct, and at times even abrupt, because that was the world he lived in. His life veered toward the political and the diplomatic, not military or even clan-centric like his father’s. He didn’t spend his days worrying about friendships or alliances or who his sons were going to marry, but he did spend his days in a never-ending chess game of politics and strategy.
He wondered how that was going to change when he married Eventide.
The truth was that he had seen men marry and how their lives became complicated by the women they’d wed. He had seen men’s obsessions with their wives and how it tended to change them. He swore he wouldn’t be one of those men who lost themselves in the women that they married, but given the fact he was going to marry Eventide, he could easily see how he would become obsessed with her.
Maybe he was going to become one of those men.
Time would tell.
He was about two hours away from Blackrock when darker thoughts began to consume him. None of this would happen if Eventide wasn’t agreeable to a marriage, and there was every possibility that she wouldn’t be. She had told him she hadn’t wanted to marry Luke, but what if she didn’t want to marry at all? What if the woman wanted to join the cloisters? What if she simply didn’t like men and preferred a life of solitude? He realized he would be quite disappointed if that was her attitude, but until he could actually speak with her, there was no use in being troubled by it.
He’d find out soon enough.
It was afternoon when the walls of Blackrock began to come into view. Beyond the castle he could see the blue waters of the Firth of Cromarty, that vast body of water that spread across the land. Where he was born, along the banks of Loch Torridon, it seemed to him that the sea was wilder. He remembered seeing sea creatures sleeping on the beaches when he was a child, and he would watch them from a safe distance before chasing them off by throwing rocks.
Big, fat sea creatures with dark hides that made noises like an elk during the mating season. He remembered one year that his sister, Lilliana, brought home a baby sea creature because she thought it was cute. His mother made her take it back, only she made the brothers do it because of the danger when encountering the larger creatures. Lilliana had cried as they took her little pet away, but once they got to the shores of the loch, they realized that the mother and probably her entire family were waiting for the baby to be returned.
Darien and Aurelius had dropped off the small creature and run like the wind in the opposite direction, terrified they were about to be set upon. Memories like that made him smile, part of a childhood that was truly idyllic. So many people he knew had had horrific childhoods, but he wasn’t one of them. He grew up in a house that was genuinely loving, and he’d fostered in a home that was much the same. That kind of security was something he wanted to provide for his own children, someday.
As he gazed at the castle in the distance, he found himself wishing for that future.
And a wife who loved him.
*
“I hope ye slept well, m’lady,” Eventide said as she swept into the room. “I’ve brought some food.”
It was afternoon at Blackrock Castle as Mabel and her daughters roused themselves from long naps. No one had slept because of the siege of Moy Castle, not until they knew their men were safe, so after the news of victory had arrived, the women had finally allowed themselves the luxury of sleep.
Mabel, in particular, seemed to be groggy. She pushed herself up in bed just as Eventide entered with three or four female servants in tow, all of them carrying various dishes, which were deposited on a table in the middle of the chamber. Mabel and her daughters had taken the largest chamber in the keep, which belonged to Fergus, but he wasn’t here to use it and Eventide had set them up in it against her mother’s protests.
Athole had retreated to another part of the house.
Unfortunately, the chamber had needed some tidying because her father lived like a pig, but Eventide and the servants had managed to clean the chamber and make it comfortable for the three women. They’d even brought in another bed for Lilliana, while Zora shared the big bed with her mother. In fact, the very mention of food had Zora climbing out of bed, staggering over to the table to inspect the offering. Lilliana was a bit slower, but she smiled at Eventide as she sat up in bed.
“You are very kind,” she said, yawning. “Have you been able to sleep at all?”
Eventide nodded. “A little,” she said. “Tae be perfectly honest, my mother is so distressed about my father going tae war that she’s taken tae bed and refuses tae rise, so I do apologize that she’s not been here tae see tae yer needs.”
Mabel was out of bed now, pulling on a silken robe. “I understand her distress,” she said honestly. “But we are married to warriors. That means they must go to battle from time to time.”
Eventide snorted softly. “My father is no warrior,” she said. “Strange as it may seem, the only battles he has ever been in were in his youth. I dunna think he has fought a battle his entire adult life.”
Mabel cocked her head curiously. “Blackrock has not seen any battles?”
“Not since I was born.”
“Mama?” Zora said, mouth full as she stood over the table and shoved apples into her face. “When are we going home?”
The attention in the chamber was diverted to the young girl as Lilliana, having risen, urged her little sister to sit down and eat. Mabel was still over by the bed as she pulled a hairbrush out of her satchel.
“As soon as your father returns, I’m sure,” she said. “There does not seem to be any reason to remain here, since there is not going to be a wedding, thank God.”
As soon as she said it, she was sorry because the sister of Darien’s betrothed was standing a few feet away. In fact, Eventide had been the very model of a gracious hostess during their entire stay, always making sure the ladies were well tended and warm and fed. To keep them entertained, she’d arranged for them to tour Blackrock and the small village down by the loch. She’d even arranged a visit to the local church, where the priests kept bees and there was ample honey to sample, much to Zora’s delight. Eventide had done everything she could to ensure that this was a pleasant visit in spite of the circumstances, and Mabel was very grateful to her.
She’d come to like her.
“Forgive me, my lady,” she said quietly. “I should not have said that. It was foolish of me.”
Eventide, too, had come to like the straightforward dun Tarh matriarch. Having grown up with a feeble-minded mother as her example, it had been eye opening to watch Mabel handle her children. She ruled with an iron fist, but there was something nurturing and warm that drew Eventide to her. Even in the few days that she’d known the woman, she had come to see someone she appreciated very much.
Someone she felt that she could be honest with.
“There is nothing tae forgive, m’lady,” she said softly. “I happen tae agree with ye.”
Mabel gazed at her a moment, smiling weakly, before reaching out and taking her hand. “Come over here with me,” she said, pulling Eventide toward the bed. “Sit down next to me. I wish to speak with you.”
Eventide did as she was told. She let Mabel sit her down, then watched the woman attentively as she sat next to her. The entire time, Mabel never let go of her hand.
“Evie,” she said quietly. “May I call you Evie? I heard your mother call you by that name. It suits you.”
Eventide smiled. “Of course, m’lady,” she said. “I would be honored.”
“Good,” Mabel said, patting her hand. “Now, I want you to be completely honest with me. Can you do that?”
“Absolutely, m’lady.”
“What is truly going on here?” Mabel asked. “What I mean to say is—now that your sister is gone, what are your plans?”
Eventide’s smile faded. “Plans?” she repeated. “For what?”
“For your future,” Mabel said. “Your sister ran off with your betrothed. What do you intend to do about it?”
Eventide shrugged. “There is nothing I can do about it,” she said. She hesitated before continuing. “May I tell ye something?”
“I wish you would.”
“I am glad that she did.”
Mabel blinked in surprise. “You are?” she said. “But why?”
Eventide sighed heavily, averting her gaze. “Because the man I was betrothed tae was a hound,” she muttered. “He never met a woman he dinna like.”
Mabel was looking at her with disgust. “And your father knew this?”
“He did.”
“Then why did he betroth you to the man?”
Eventide shrugged. “Because he wanted the alliance,” she said. “Luke Cannich’s home, Moy Castle, now belongs tae my father. I dunna think that’s really what he wanted, but Luke’s humiliation must be avenged. Or so he says. But he dinna avenge me . He avenged the Moriston name and nothing more.”
Mabel knew that mindset all too well. “And the dun Tarh name,” she said. “Nothing would stop Lares, either. Where a man’s pride is concerned, he’ll stop at nothing to save it.”
Eventide nodded. “I dinna want tae marry Luke,” she said. “I dinna want my father tae attack Moy. This is not about me in the least.”
“I can see that,” Mabel said. “But Luke Cannich wasn’t the only one with a reputation. Your sister has one, too.”
“She does,” Eventide said. “I know ye were upset that ye’d not been told. Did ye ask yer husband about it?”
Mabel growled unhappily. “Not before he departed for Moy,” she said. “He deliberately avoided me.”
“Will ye ask him when he returns?”
“He’ll be fortunate if he leaves these walls with his hide intact.”
Eventide struggled not to laugh out loud. “But surely his intentions were just like my father’s,” she said. “He wanted the alliance. My sister is the heiress and brings a great deal with her. Surely that is all he was thinking of.”
Mabel eyed her. “You defend him?”
“I’m simply saying that men like yer husband and my father think alike.”
Mabel contemplated that. “True,” she said. “You are astute, Evie.”
“Thank ye, m’lady.”
“But you still have not told me what you intend to do about your future.”
It was an uncomfortable subject for Eventide. She lowered her gaze, looking at her lap. “There is nothing I can do,” she said quietly. “But I do know one thing.”
“What?”
“That I’ll not let my father push me intae another betrothal.”
“What do you intend to do about it?”
“Join the cloister.”
That answer saddened Mabel. “Oh… Evie,” she said softly, patting the woman’s hand. “Please do not do that yet. Surely there is someone else you should like to marry?”
Eventide shrugged. “I canna think of anyone, and I’m fearful of what my father will do next,” she said. “I could end up with a beast or a fool just because he wants an alliance.”
Mabel could see her point. “You never know what is on the horizon for you tomorrow, or next month, or even next year,” she said. “Do not commit yourself so quickly to the cloister. In fact, I have seven sons who are not married. You could have your pick of any one you wished, and I can promise you that they are all fine men. I do not raise beasts or fools.”
Eventide looked at her. “I canna imagine ye would, m’lady.”
“What about Darien?” Mabel said. “Now that your sister has fled, he is eligible. Would he be acceptable?”
It was an unexpected question, and Eventide flushed a bright shade of red, something she had absolutely no control over. The mere mention of Darien’s name had her turning as red as an apple. She’d just spent the past few days worrying over the man, thinking about him, and trying not to show it. She thought she’d concealed that very well. But one mention about him from his own mother and she was about to burst into flame.
“He’s an important man, m’lady,” she said, averting her gaze. “He requires a marriage with a lady who can bring him a title and lands. I bring him nothing.”
Mabel didn’t say anything for a moment. She continued to hold Eventide’s hand, perhaps contemplating that very thing. I can bring him nothing.
She didn’t quite agree.
“I happen to believe that my children should be happy with the man or woman they marry,” she said. “I realize that marriages are about strengthening families and alliances, but I think happiness should be important, too.”
Eventide was listening. “Did ye choose Lares because he made ye happy?”
Mabel grinned. “You will not believe this, but I met him at a monastery.”
Eventide looked up from her lap, her eyes wide. “Ye did?”
“I did,” Mabel confirmed. “He had been sent there by his father for a very foolish reason, and my brother had ended up at the monastery because he broke his leg whilst traveling, so I met Lares when my mother and I went to collect him.”
“Was Lares a priest?”
“Nay, thankfully,” Mabel said. “But I knew within the first few minutes of knowing him that he could make me happy. And he has, all of these years.”
Eventide smiled because Mabel was. “That is a lovely memory,” she said. “I envy ye.”
Mabel patted her hand. “May I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“How long have you known the man you were supposed to marry?”
Eventide had to think on that. “Since we were young,” she said. “He was a neighbor, an ally, and nothing more until my father decided he should be my husband.”
“Did you think he could make you happy?”
Eventide’s smile faded. “Nay,” she said. “I never thought that.”
“And what did you think of Darien when you first met him?”
Eventide reflected on that moment months ago. “I thought that he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen,” she said. “I thought my sister was very fortunate.”
“Have you been able to speak with him much since he has been here at Blackrock?”
“A little.” Eventide nodded. “Enough tae know that he is a fine man. I told ye once my sister dinna deserve him. I meant it.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you deserve him?”
Eventide lowered her gaze again. “I told ye that I canna give him what he needs,” she said. “It would not be an advantageous marriage for him.”
“I do not care about that,” Mabel said. “Do you think you could be happy with him?”
Eventide’s cheeks were starting to flame again as she looked at her hands. “Verily,” she said softly. “But I dunna think he’d be happy with me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not a prestigious wife.”
“That may be, but I have an idea. Will you listen?”
Eventide had no idea what to say. Was the woman truly attempting to gain her consent to marry Darien? Obviously, she couldn’t consent. It wasn’t her right. And Darien would surely be furious about it. He’d just rid himself of one Moriston sister and his mother was trying to saddle him with another? She was almost angry at the woman for trying to get her hopes up.
It was cruel.
“M’lady,” she said as politely as she could, “I am sure ye mean well, but ye cannot speak for yer son. Surely… surely one Moriston sister was enough. I’m sure he’s willing tae be done with the lot of us.”
Mabel was watching her carefully, at the way she wouldn’t make eye contact. The way she fidgeted with her fingers. Eventide was usually composed in any given situation—an admirable composure, considering what she’d been through—but when speaking of Darien, Mabel had noticed she tended to become uneasy.
She suspected why.
“Both you and my husband seem to be obsessed with Darien marrying for a title and lands,” she said. “It is true that he is the second son and will not inherit from his father, but he can inherit from his mother.”
Eventide looked at the woman, guarded. “What do ye mean?”
Mabel had the young woman’s attention. That was a good sign. She smiled and stood up, resuming brushing her hair.
“My family is de Waverton,” she said. “I am certain you suspected I was not from Scotland.”
She said it in jest, referring to her obvious English accent, and Eventide smiled weakly.
“Ye have the manners of royalty, m’lady,” she said.
Mabel grinned. “That is true,” she said. “I do. In fact, my father is a descendant of William Longespee, Earl of Salisbury. He was the illegitimate son of Henry II, so we have royal blood in our lines. My father married my mother, Irene, and they had two children—myself and my brother, George. Oh, how I loved my brother. He was kind and warm, but he was also a troublemaker. Unfortunately, he died childless, and when my parents also died, my father’s lordship passed to me. Technically, it belongs to Lares, but he doesn’t care about it because it is an English title. Therefore, I’m sure he would happily give it to Darien, although it clearly has not occurred to him to do so. He was trying to secure Darien a Scottish title and lands through marriage, but since Lowmoor is a landed property title, he can just as easily give it to Darien. He would become Lord Lowmoor, and Wigton House, where I grew up, would become your home.”
Eventide was staring at her by the time she was done. She simply didn’t know what to say to it all. As Mabel continued to brush her hair, Eventide sat on the bed and pondered what she’d been told. Mabel seemed to think she would make Darien a good wife and was even willing to give him her family’s title in place of the one Eventide wouldn’t bring to the marriage. Was it actually possible?
Could this actually happen?
But the fact remained that Darien had no idea what his mother was up to. Whether or not Eventide was agreeable to a marriage, Darien and even Lares and Fergus still had to give their approval. But why would they?
She was no one of note.
With a sigh of disappointment, Eventide stood up from the bed.
“Ye’ve given me much tae think about, m’lady,” she said. “I do appreciate yer kindness. It means a great deal.”
Mabel’s gaze lingered on her. She realized she wasn’t going to get an answer out of the young woman, at least not yet. She could tell that the conversation had overwhelmed Eventide, and Mabel could well understand that. But this was only the first volley in the attempt of a mother to matchmake for her son.
There would be more.
“You are easy to be kind to,” she said after a moment. “But I suspect you haven’t had much kindness in your life, Eventide. Am I wrong?”
Eventide didn’t know why, but her eyes welled with tears. She was going to weep and had no idea why. So she forced a brave smile and shook her head, quickly wiping away the tears that fell.
“Ye’re not,” she said quietly. “That is why yer kindness means so much tae me. I will always remember it. And ye.”
Mabel went to her and kissed her on the cheek. “We’ll speak more after I have dressed,” she said. “Meanwhile, I should like to see your mother. Do you think we could convince her to rise from her bed and join us?”
Eventide shrugged. “Possibly,” she said. “I think—”
She was cut off when the sentries began to shout at the gate. A rider had arrived. All of the women in the chamber rushed to the window, which had a partial view of the main gate. Eventide couldn’t see much because Zora was in her way, straining to see what she could, but Mabel pulled her away from the window and took her place. It only took her a few seconds to see who had come.
“Darien is here,” she said with some excitement. “My son has come. Praise the saints.”
Eventide’s heart began to pound in her chest at the mere mention of the man’s name. “I will see tae him,” she said, quickly moving for the door. “Shall I send him tae ye, m’lady?”
Mabel thought on that. “Nay,” she said after a moment. “Take him to the hall and remain with him. I will join you there.”
“As ye wish, m’lady.”
As Eventide scurried from the chamber, a smile spread across Mabel’s face. Perhaps a little time alone with Darien in the hall would convince Eventide that this marriage suggestion was a good one. Mabel was fairly confident that the young woman found her son attractive. She hadn’t missed the violent blushing when Darien was mentioned. Now, all the lass needed was a little push by a mother who wanted to see her son happy.
Mabel rather enjoyed matchmaking.
“Mama,” Zora said eagerly, “I want tae see Darien, too!”
“Not yet,” Mabel said. “Finish your meal and then I want you to bathe and dress. You’ll see your brother in due time.”
Zora wasn’t happy about the delay but did what her mother said. As she plopped back down at the table and picked up a hunk of bread, Lilliana made her way over to her mother.
“I heard what you said to Evie,” she said quietly. “I think that she and Darien would make a fine match.”
“Hush,” Mabel said, holding up her hand in a silencing gesture. “Do you want your sister to hear? She’ll run off and tell Darien and your father and God knows who else. This situation must be handled… delicately.”
Lilliana passed a glance at Zora chewing her bread and cheese. “Shall I tie her up?”
Mabel shook her head. Then a devious expression crossed her features, as if she were reconsidering.
“Hide her shoes,” she whispered. “I do not want her running down to the hall and interrupting Darien and Evie. They must have some time alone.”
“But what if Darien has brought important news from Papa?”
“Then he’ll simply have to wait to give it to me.”
Lilliana understood. Fighting off a smile, she went on a covert mission to hide Zora’s shoes until her mother said that it was time to return them.
They must have some time alone.
Mabel was going to buy them as much time as she could.