Chapter 2 #2
As she studied the placement of the little warriors with the shields that held the different clans’ coats of arms, she saw one allied clan’s troops were positioned strangely, almost as if they were exposed near the front lines.
Perhaps they had a new strategy that she wasn’t aware of that might help them, but this did not look to be any sort of helpful way.
In fact, in her mind’s eye she watched the battle from several angles, and none of it turned out in these Scot’s favor.
She recalled a conversation that she had heard in the hallways after a particular feast a couple of weeks ago.
It hadn’t seemed like anything at the time, just idle chatter and the selfish notions of men who often referred to women as chattel.
But someone had mentioned that if the Bruce were to fall in war, the English would want hostages, which they had demonstrated before, but also, they would want marriages.
Hearing this, she, of course, shuddered at the thought of being married to an Englishman, and vowed to slit their throats, or her own before they could.
But when the beastly man had been talking, it had seemed he was almost gleeful rather than fearful that one of their womenfolk might be married off to the enemy.
She quickly shook her head. Her uncle was a powerful man. While he had many enemies, none would be so brazen, and so stupid.
This little trek to her uncle’s solar was indeed disappointing all around. She did not feel as if she knew anything new at all and, in fact, was going to leave feeling more confused than ever.
“Freckles, we must cease.”
Freckles chittered from behind a wardrobe and returned to Isabel holding a coin. She returned Freckles to her gown and stared at the silver piece in her hand noting that it looked decidedly English. Isabel narrowed her eyes. Why was there an English coin hidden in her uncle’s solar?
Heaven forbid her uncle was waging a marriage bargain for her with an Englishman. That was a death sentence for them both.
Nobody asked Isabel what she wanted. And she had never asked herself, too aware of the disappointment that would come when she knew she couldn’t partake in it. Those were dreams from another lifetime. A lifetime that had passed with her parents.
While her father had filled her with the notions of fanciful love in the stories he’d told around their hearth, Isabel knew how fruitless the idea of love was for herself.
Uncle Robbie had made it clear he was of no soft disposition the first time she’d asked him to tell her a story.
Perhaps his recent loss of his wife had been a part of his inclination.
Or maybe being Robert the Bruce meant that every action he took was one of strategy, and any marriage she had was just another key player in the games of war and power.
While her fate was not yet her own, and she hadn’t discovered any of her uncle’s plans, she wasn’t even close to giving up.
In fact, she should go upstairs and find her uncle’s bedchamber and search there instead.
Perhaps he kept his most secret correspondence underneath his bed and Freckles would find it.
There had been no locked coffer in the solar, which led her to believe it must be elsewhere.
She opened the solar to find Elsa wringing her hands raw in front of her.
“Oh, my lady, we shouldna be here… if they find ye.” Elsa jerked her head around as if she expected a specter to leap from the walls.
When she turned back and opened her mouth to speak, Isabel calmly cut her off before the woman had a fit of nerves right there on the corridor floor, which would only serve to draw more attention.
“They expect me to embroider while men decide the fate not only of Scotland but of its womenfolk,” Isabel said plainly. “I canna allow that to happen without me knowing exactly what is going to befall me—and ye, for that matter. Let us go up to my uncle’s bedchamber. I have need to look there.”
Elsa shook her head vehemently, moisture gathering in her eyes. By all the saints, was she on the brink of shedding tears over it?
“Oh, my lady, we canna do that. What if someone were to see ye going in there? Your uncle’s page is ever so keen for ye to make a mistake. Ye will surely be punished.”
Isabel lay a calming hand on the poor lass’s trembling shoulder. “I will no more be punished than an apple decides no’ to fall from its tree limb. Let us go. Do no’ argue and do no’ worry. All will be well.”
Isabel did not wait for her maid but instead made a beeline for the circular stone stairs that would lead her up toward her uncle’s chamber.
Perhaps it was time to find a maid who might have a stronger fortitude and let this wee lass go back to some other duties.
Perhaps being in charge of lighting the hearths in the morning would be less of a weight on her frail shoulders.
Oh, how she missed Raina, who had been her maid for as long as she could remember, but had grown too feeble and blind in her age to help any longer.
She had begged leave to live out her days with her granddaughter, and Isabel had been more than happy to oblige her loyal servant.
But Raina had been an excellent snoop and loved Isabel’s schemes. There would never be another like her.
Isabel hesitated outside Uncle Robbie’s bedchamber door, listening beyond the wooden planks to hear if there was anyone inside doing any cleaning or chores.
But all was silent.
Elsa came up behind her, a hand resting gently on Isabel’s elbow, pinching a little too hard.
“Please, my lady, please dinna. I beg of ye.”
Isabel turned and stared at the maid, wondering what had gotten her so fearful just now.
There was no one there to catch them save the other servants. Was she worried that someone might say something? That the servants weren’t all discreet? Or that perhaps there was a traitor amongst their midst?
“If ye do no’ wish to be here, ye may go. But I am going to search this chamber whether ye like it or no’.” Isabel’s voice came out a little harsher than she intended, but truly, she was at her wits’ end with Elsa.
She needed someone she could trust—and who was willing to get her hands a little dirty. Elsa did not seem up to the task.. Life for a lady in a castle meant if she wanted to get answers, she was going to have to resort to methods that were perhaps to some, unseemly, and to everyone, dangerous.
No matter, she had to see to the task at hand. There would be time for questions after.