Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was not until the afternoon, that Joseph knocked on Ewan’s study door and popped his head in.
“The messenger ye dispatched tae Skye has returned, milaird.”
“Send him in at once please Joseph.”
The lad was ushered in, shivering, his lips blue with cold.
“Stand by the fire, lad, and thaw yerself.”
“Thank ye, Laird Ewan. I am Kenneth Mackenzie, of Dornie.” The lad rubbed his hands together at the fire. “At sea, it is indeed cold enough tae freeze the devil’s lair.”
“Were ye well received at Scorrybreac?”
“Aye. It is a most pleasant place, and the Laird Edmund was most hospitable. I dined well and partook of some fine French wine.”
“And ye’ve brought me back a letter from the laird?”
Kenneth scrambled in his jacket for the folded parchment. “Yer pardon, sire. Aye.”
“When ye’re thawed enough lad, ye may leave. If I require ye tae travel again Joseph will call on ye.”
The tall lad hurried off, leaving Ewan to tear open the sealed parchment.
Dear Laird Mackenzie,
First, I wish tae thank ye fer the hospitality and protection ye are giving me sister, the Lady Tyra MacNeacail.
I have given great consideration tae the matters ye raise in yer missive and, at this point, I wish tae speak with me dear sister before I pass on me blessings tae yer union.
The prospective rèiteach is, surely, a matter which requires us tae meet face tae face and with our council elders present tae discuss every detail.
With this in mind, I am preparing tae sail.
I anticipate arriving at Eilean Donan three days hence.
Me Lady wife, Annora, will accompany me, along with me advisor, Lionel MacLaren, and Tormod MacNeacail, senior of the clan, and chief of me Council.
I trust a meeting between us and yer Clan Council will be arranged
I am, yers etc.
Signed
Edmund MacNeacail
Ewan read the letter twice, turning it over in his hand to be certain it was the MacNeacail coat of arms imprinted there in red wax. He caught his breath. Edmund MacNeacail would be coming, and, if all was agreed, his betrothal to Tyra would be finalized.
While he sat contemplating the turn of events, the door flew open and Duncan swept in.
“Joseph said the messenger had come from Skye.”
Ewan waved the parchment he was holding and passed it over to Duncan, who thumped onto the seat next to his brother and began to read.
Ewan got his feet and poured them each a dram of whisky.
Holding the parchment in front of him, Duncan let out a tuneless whistle. “He’s coming here. A good sign.”
“Aye.” Ewan resumed his seat. “Her braither’s presence here will please the Lady Tyra.”
“He says he has nay objection.” Duncan shook his head. “Unless the lad’s a wee fool, he’ll be happy tae agree tae the betrothal. It will strengthen his clan and save him a great deal of vexatious bother in seeking a match fer the lady.”
Ewan nodded. As long as the terms of the rèitach could be agreed upon, he could fathom no objection from Edmund. Unless, of course, the Laird MacNeacail was not convinced the lady desired the match. He winced at the thought. The Council would waste no time renewing their demands he re-marry.
Leaving Duncan by the fire, Ewan went in search of Joseph. There was much to arrange and only a short space in which to achieve it.
“And the space around our landing place needs to be well groomed and tidy, as it is the first glimpse the laird will have of Eilean Donan. I dinnae wish him tae be displeased.”
Joseph departed with myriad instructions for the kitchen, the chambermaids, the laundry, the gardeners, all of whom would have to swing into action to ensure that the castle – and Mackenzie hospitality, could not be faulted.
Mayhap tomorrow would be a good opportunity to spend more time with Lady Tyra, in the hope she would look kindly on the betrothal, at least in her brother’s eyes? That trip to the village held possibilities.
And he, Ewan Mackenzie, had to play the part of a courtly lad. He would do his utmost to please his lady and convince both Edmund and Tyra that she would be happy making her home at Eilean Donan and that Ewan would treat her well.
It was this last thought that ended up snagged on his uncertainty. The role of suitor did not sit comfortably on Ewan’s shoulders. And, in addition he was becoming uncomfortably aware of the attraction between them. Curbing his emotions – and his lust – would cost him dear.
He shrugged the thoughts away and headed for the solar in search of Tyra, intending to inform her of the news of her brother’s impending visit.
Neither Tyra nor Isla were in the solar. Could they be in the kitchen? How long did it take to make an apple pie?
Sure enough, not only did he discover his sister and Tyra in the kitchen, looking rosy cheeked and somewhat floury, but Duncan was also there.
They all turned as Ewan walked in. Duncan said quickly, “I didnae give them the news. I kept it fer ye tae tell.”
Tyra looked up, her eyes flashing with excitement. “Have ye heard from me braither?”
He nodded and could not keep from grinning.
“What did he say?” She was practically jumping out of her skin.
“He didnae disagree wi’ our union, but nor did he agree. He is coming tae Eilean Donan with his lady wife and others, tae discuss it with us face tae face. He wanted tae hear yer opinion.”
Tyra’s face lit up with joy. Without thinking, she reached for his hand. “Oh, that is wonderful news.” She turned to the others. “I’m certain me braither will be happy tae agree once he meets ye all and sees this bonnie castle. I ken his only wish is fer me tae be...”
Without warning, her voice trailed away. Shaking her head she lowered her eyes and wiped her flour-covered hands on her apron, chewing on her lower lip.
Whatever had made her catch her breath like that? Ewan guessed she’d been about to say that her brother’s only wish was for her to be happy. His heart sank.
Is the Lady Tyra afraid her braither will think her unhappy and nae consent tae our marriage?
It was then he made up his mind.
“And, some further news fer ye. I have decided on that trip tae the village.”
All three looked at him in anticipation, Isla grinning widely.
“Aye. I can see ‘tis what ye all wish fer. We shall ride there tomorrow and dine on Malcom’s finest. He keeps me a special hoard of the best French wine…” He looked sideways at Tyra who caught his glimpse and gave a tiny nod in recognition of the night when she had enjoyed Malcolm’s French wine a little too enthusiastically.
He went on. “I daresay the peddler will be staying at the inn, so if we stay there overnight, we’ll have the first taste of his wares the following day. ”
Isla clapped her hands, sending a little cloud of powdery flour into the air. “It will be wonderful tae go out at last.”
“Aye.” Ewan nodded, enjoying the enthusiasm greeting his words.