Chapter Four #2
“I mean to unite border clans with some of the Highland clans. To do so, I have offered brides to your brethren and do so to you. These marriages will instill my plan to unite our nation. I want Scotland to be united from the southern border to the far reaches of the north, especially before I seek to invade Haakon’s lands. ”
“Brides?” Breckin swallowed and tried not to sound outraged.
“Aye, brides. You will be offered a bonny bride. All you need to do to win her hand is defeat your brethren in a hand-to-hand battle and all levy shall be forgiven. Before you speak your objection, the clans involved are the MacKendricks, Camerons, and Mackintoshes. There are four brides in all and are the bonniest women in the land.”
Breckin swallowed his angst before he gave his reasons for rejecting the king’s offer.
“I have no time for a wife right now, Alexander. What with the scuffles in the north, I have been trying to win alliances and helping lesser clans secure their lands. We Buchanans have been protecting weaker clans and with spring on our heels, the situation is sure to become pressing.”
“Aye, so I have heard of your altruism for the northern clans. They are fortunate, are they not, that you aid them? But it matters not because I will have your agreement.”
Breckin pressed his fingers on his nape and tried to remain calm.
“Along with that, sire, I am trying to find out what happened to my sister and I’m trying to be a father to my younger brothers.
Lord knows they challenge me at every turn.
Nay, there is no time for a wife right now. I thank ye for the offer though.”
Laughter bellowed from Alexander and his eyes shone with his mirth. “’Tis not an offer, Breckin, but a command, unless you wish to be detained. Can you make payment now for the owed tax?”
Detained? Did Alexander intend to imprison him if he couldn’t pay the levy? Breckin fisted his hands and took a breath. “I told ye nay and that I need time…”
Alexander shook his head. “I cannot give you the time you ask for. Either you pay now, marry one of the lasses, or you can take residence in one of the castle cells. Which is it to be, Breckin?”
Bollocks, the king practically put a noose around his neck.
He wanted to shout his objection but Alexander forced his hand.
Breckin had no option but to accept the offered bride.
He was damned irked about it though. “Very well, sire, since ye give me no choice, I will marry as ye bade. Will the entire tax be forgiven? If I am going to accept a bride, then I will not be paying the past debt.” Then a smile twitched at his lips because fighting with Cameron, Mackintosh, and MacKendrick was going to help rid his frustration at this deplorable misfortune.
“Aye, the entire amount owed will be wiped away. Now before you run off to lick your wounds and soothe your pride, Breckin, there are some stipulations. For one, you cannot marry the woman and drop her off on your land. You will be married in all sense of the word and there will be no annulment sought on your behalf or hers. Do not try to intimidate the lass. The marriage will afford you happiness. Accept that for once in your life.”
Breckin grunted. Happiness? All that marriage would do was saddle him with an unwanted bride for whom he had no time, who would likely be displeased with him as a husband, and cause him endless troubles.
“I will hear your vow to take this woman as your wife and to do everything within your power to enrich your and her life with this marriage. You see, comrade, I do you a great honor and service. You might not be pleased right now, but eventually, you will see the merit of it.”
He grunted again and fisted his hands but kept them between his legs as he leaned his forearms on his thighs. “You give me no choice, sire, but to affirm this vow.”
“Good, good.” Alexander stood and waited for him to join him.
Breckin rose from his seat and stood before the king. “Whatever trickery this is, I better not be saddled with a hellion or, God forbid, a shrew.”
Alexander bellowed with laughter. “Trust in me, Breckin, you will be more than pleased with your wife. On the morrow, there will be a feast at the evening meal where you will meet the ladies. The bouts will be discussed and we shall move forward quickly. I intend to have the marriages solidified before I leave for England. You will stay here in the castle until after the sacraments are performed by the priest. Now, leave me.”
He walked to the door and when he closed it behind him, Breckin stood by the wall in complete despair at what had just passed between him and the king.
Nowhere was it written that they had to pay the tithe on their land to the king but that did not mean it wasn’t true.
Perhaps he should seek Lord Lennox and find out exactly what had been stipulated when his grandfather had been given the land.
He’d always ensured a pound of wax was delivered to Lord Lennox right after Saint Stephen’s Day as was agreed upon when his grandfather had purchased the land, but he never considered that they also owed tax to the king.
“Laird Buchanan?” Edmund approached. “Are you finished with your meeting with the king?”
“Aye.” He couldn’t bring himself to speak of what transpired, but he was certain that the king’s chamberlain was probably privy to what the king demanded.
“Come, let us get you settled in the chamber with the other lairds. You shall be here for at least a sennight or possibly longer.” Edmund motioned him forward.
Before they reached the chamber where the men stayed, Breckin stopped him. “I need to collect my belongings and see that my horse is settled at the hostelry. This night, I will return to stay in the chamber.”
“Very well, Milord.” Edmund bowed to him and when he straightened, he chuckled. “There is a fine inn down the lane where you might find a stronger drink than ale. I suspect you might need a good stiff dram…”
Breckin agreed. He wanted to dull his senses a wee bit and to forget even momentarily what the king demanded. He hastened to the exit of the castle and passed the gate without so much as a glance at the guardsmen.
Outside, the early evening air placated his angst and affront.
Breckin did not appreciate being put in such a position—having to take a wife—to make reparations for something unknown to him.
He supposed, though, that taking a wife in lieu of having to pay a hefty tax was somewhat of a blessing.
Recent harvests had barely sustained them throughout the winters.
He only hoped that the woman he’d marry was worthy and that they were well-matched.
*
The king’s antechamber was a flurry of activity.
Breckin stood just inside the door and awaited the night’s revelry, not that he wanted to celebrate the thought of his marriage.
Try as he might to be enthusiastic about the brides or sparring with the lairds, he was bored and anxious to get back on the road to Buchanan land.
Twice now he refrained from yawning. Breckin wasn’t one to spend the night mingling with lords or being entertained.
He hoped the night would end early enough to afford him a good night’s sleep.
Then he noticed her—the woman he’d seen in the village the day before—the woman he’d tried to rescue from the thief.
She appeared even more beautiful than she had at the market.
In a long, flowing, cream-colored gown that fit her to perfection, she walked with such an elegance he’d never seen in a woman before.
He wasn’t the sort of man who shied away from women, but since their run-in, he wanted to make a good impression.
As he approached, he stood aside when she helped an older man whom he assumed was her father, setting him in a chair near the buttery.
She stepped forward and fetched a drink for the man; her eyes widened when she took him in. “You. What are you doing here?”
He bowed but kept his expression devoid of mirth. She didn’t sound pleased to see him again. “Mistress, ’tis good to see ye here. I hope ye did not go after that lad, the one who thieved your coins.”
“Indeed I did. If you had only taken a moment to ask him why he tried to thieve from me, you would have realized that the poor lad was only hungry.”
“Ye ask for trouble with that brashness, lass.” He couldn’t keep the irritation from his tone because she put herself in peril. “Hungry or not, ’tis unlawful to thieve.”
“So you uphold the law at all times? Cast the first stone, sir—”
“I cast no stones, only truth and honor.” Breckin wanted to laugh at her absurd view of thievery but instead, he grunted at her insult.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to wring her bonny neck or kiss her.
She irked him but at the same time charmed him.
“Aye, I sin, as I am certain ye do as well. If ye like, we could sin together.” He flashed a grin to her but she seemed not to get the hint of his jest. A maiden, then.
He continued, “I am gladdened ye are unharmed. Ye could have been more grateful and offered courtesy for my assistance and—”
She busied herself in pouring a cup of ale for the older man and turned her back to him. Still, he heard her say, “Your intrusion. No one asked you to save me.”
“I could not stand aside and not give aid to a fair maiden such as yourself.” Breckin watched her walk away.
How such a bonny woman irritated him, and yet, captivated him at the same time, he couldn’t reason.
If only she didn’t speak, he could gaze upon her loveliness and be content.
He appreciated the sultry cadence of her voice, but it was the words with the slight bite to them that he disliked.
The side door panel opened and Alexander entered.
He almost had to duck beneath the threshold as tall as he stood.
The queen followed him to the dais. Breckin shuffled back and leaned against the window casement ledge, thankful that finally, the evening diversion had begun so he could get it over with.
Alexander cleared his throat and motioned to all.
“This is a day of import, and I am pleased to see you here. This evening, we shall have a feast with dancing and merriment. I will give you this time to greet each other and become familiar. Before the night ends, the selections will be discussed and finalized on the morrow. I bid you to eat and drink.”
Breckin stayed near the window and watched the bustle of servants open the doors to the great hall.
Almost everyone in the antechamber made their way toward the large adjacent room.
It was lit with large candelabras and the glow shone on the faces of those already making for the dance.
The plucking of the harpist sent a melodic ambiance through the chamber but did nothing to allay his mood.
A servant passed by and Breckin snatched a cup of ale from him. He wasn’t about to join in the revelry and considered the night a complete waste of time. Still, he would partake of the king’s ale and dull every single one of his senses.
“Why are you standing here by yourself?”
He glanced up to find the queen standing nearby. “Your Grace…” Breckin bowed. “Ah, I was but sipping my ale. How are ye? Alexander tells me that ye are expecting a bairn. On behalf of all the Buchanans, we are delighted to welcome our future king.”
Margaret giggled. “How presumptuous of you, Laird Buchanan. Perhaps we shall have a princess. Now tell me, was it my imagination or did I see you and Mistress Eva rowing by the buttery earlier?”
Eva? The market woman’s name was Eva. It was a lovely name, not that he wanted to care about it. “Nay, Milady, not rowing but simply having a difference of opinion.”
The queen stepped beside him, out of the way of the dancers on the floor. “Alexander tells me that you are against this marriage. Is this true?”
He raised his eyes to look into the queen’s. She was audacious and direct. “Matters at home are pressing, Milady, which prevents me from rejoicing at such a union.”
Margaret shifted forward and lowered her voice, “Laird Buchanan, I would like to share something with you but it must remain betwixt us… A dragon sits on a high cliff with her bright shimmering scales for all to see. All bask in her beauty and she appeals to all but most fear to get too near. On the outside, she might seem unapproachable, but as you are a renowned warrior, I am sure that you have the intelligence to uncover the beauty within.” She craned her neck and appeared to be gazing at the market woman, Mistress Eva.
“Is this a riddle, Milady? Do ye wish me to solve it?”
“What I wish, Buchanan, is that you see not with your eyes but perhaps with your heart. I shall leave you with that.” Margaret chuckled as she walked away.
Breckin shook his head with consternation because he wasn’t sure what the queen wanted of him.
Whatever she meant, he was sure she was talking about Mistress Eva.
With that, his eyes roamed the large chamber for her but he didn’t see her.
He strolled toward the exit and crossed the hall.
A balcony afforded an escape for him and he intended to take in some night air until he heard a familiar voice and then he glimpsed her before shifting behind the wall.
Breckin couldn’t help but overhear them.
“I tell you, da, they are all barbarians. You saw them. How am I supposed to marry one of them? I doubt they have sufficient homes. Why, I will probably be living in a dirt-floor cottage somewhere on a hill in the middle of nowhere. I am sure I shall perish.”
“Ah, sprig, you are being a little overwrought. Surely these men have homes and you will not perish.” The man laughed. “You are a rational woman and will find a way to make the best of your situation.”
“Being married to a Highlander? I doubt that, Da.”
Breckin stepped back until he was well away from the entrance of the balcony.
He shook his head at hearing her view of him and his brethren.
Yet she might be right. They were somewhat barbaric but they needed to be.
It was fight and triumph or be defeated in the north.
Obviously, the woman was used to extravagance of which he had none. She definitely wouldn’t do as his wife.
He’d strike her from the running. But it was a damnable shame because he was attracted to her. Nay, he was completely enthralled by her. She was a beauty even if she irked him and that would have made the marriage bed a pleasurable place to be.