Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Halvard ushered Kenneth into his study. It was a large, somewhat somber, room with shelves burdened with books and overflowing with rolled parchments. A fire burned in the grate and Kenneth was grateful to warm his hands and dry the remaining dampness from his kilt.
“I am grateful fer yer hospitality, Laird Halvard, and I welcome this opportunity tae discuss the problems of our fishing rights.”
Halvard strode across to a cabinet containing an assortment of crystal glasses and goblets. “Would ye care fer a dram? The whisky will warm ye better than the flames.” He smiled drily as Kenneth nodded and poured several generous fingers of the amber fluid into two glasses.
“Thank ye,” Kenneth took the whisky in his cold fingers and raised the glass. “Slàinte mhath, Laird Halvard, I wish ye good health.”
Halvard also raised his glass. “Slàinte mhath tae ye.”
After Kenneth had warmed himself sufficiently, he took his seat in the chair next to Halvard.
“Before we turn our attention tae the matter of fishing, I wish tae provide ye the details of how the Lady Selene came tae be in me care.”
Halvard grunted. “Aye. I received news that me ship had been set on fire and all me men had perished. I was dire afeared me sister-in-law was among them. When I received her message and yers, we greatly rejoiced.”
“It was pure luck that brought us tae yer birlinn. Heavy fog had taken us from our route, but Selene’s screams guided us.”
“What we found was carnage, yer men lying dead in pools of their own blood on the deck. The raiders had captured yer wife’s sister and were hellbent on taking her with them. She was struggling, but fighting a losing battle when we came alongside.”
Harvard swilled the whisky, a frown creasing his brow. “And who were the raiders? Have ye any idea?”
Kenneth slowly shook his head. “They had nay colors.” He glanced at Halvard. “And yer birlinn wasnae flying colors either.”
“I have nay explanation fer that. Me captain must have believed it was safer.”
“Selene spoke of a letter from yerself that was meant fer me, but the letter was destroyed and the man conveying it lay dead at our feet. At first, I suspected the English lass might well have been a spy. As ye ken, King George circulates his people among us, and without colors…”
Halvard’s frown deepened as he nodded.
“Yet, I cannae understand why me ship was attacked by these raiders and what they wanted with Lady Selene. Ransom?”
Kenneth rose to his feet to stand by the mantel. He took another sip of the whisky.
“I believe it was Aidan MacLeay’s lads who attacked yer ship.”
“Christ.” Halvard went to the cabinet, picked up the whisky decanter and poured them both another splash. “MacLeay is a mad dog, dangerous and unpredictable. Yet I didnae think he would dae such a thing.”
Kenneth nodded. “He is a menace tae the islands. I am convinced his actions were meant tae cause trouble between ye and me clan. He was thwarted when I saved Lady Selene from his clutches.”
Halvard’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve heard that Aidan has long sworn vengeance against ye. I ken he blames ye fer the death of his lass and his accusation has earned ye the name of the Brute of Sleat.”
Kenneth pshawed. “He is a constant menace as ye say. And…” He hesitated. He did not wish to alarm Halvard, but it was impossible to hide the truth of the recent happenings for which Aidan was blamed.
After Kenneth had related the story of the cattle and then the attack on Castle Duntulm under the false flag of the MacLeods, he rounded off with, “I believe he has plans tae harm Selene. If he kens what she means tae me…”
Halvard exploded. “Ye’re informing me that this dangerous lad, this…
this… lunatic, means harm tae me sister-in-law?
” He swung away from the fire. “Fer God’s sake, lad.
This is outrageous. Fer all ye ken, the man could have trailed ye here.
Ye risk danger tae me family?” He huffed angrily, glaring at Kenneth.
“Aye. I cannae argue, but I have nay wish tae bring danger tae Raasay. It is me problem and I intend tae deal wi’ it as soon as I return tae Duntulm.”
“In that case, I suggest ye return tae Duntulm with all haste.”
“That is me intention, Laird Halvard. Once me business here is done, I shall be on me way. But…”
Halvard fixed him with a look that spelled daggers.
Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Kenneth steeled himself against what he knew would be Halvard’s response when he revealed his feelings for Selene.
“Since she has been at Duntulm, I have come tae care deeply fer the Lady Selene. I wish us tae marry.”
Halvard snorted. “Ye must ken I could ne’er give me approval tae such a match. It would be tantamount tae sealing Selene’s death warrant.”
Kenneth straightened his shoulders. He knew Halvard’s words held the ring of truth, but his heart sank.
“I will protect her with me life. But she is safe here at Castle Brochel. If she remains here, it will give me time tae rid meself of Aidan and his wickedness.”
“If she remains here,” Halvard said slowly, “she will be in danger as long as Aidan believes ye wish tae wed her. If ye are tae protect her, ye must deny her. Yer love endangers her.”
Kenneth nodded slowly, his heart in danger of breaking in two.
He spent the next hour discussing the problems of the contested fishing rights, and as they thrashed the matter to and fro, the two lairds were able to find a compromise that would suit the fisherfolk from both clans.
There would be a clear division between Raasay and Duntulm’s fishing grounds that the fishermen would have to abided by.
Then, heart heavy, he took his leave.
“On the morrow I wish tae see tae purchasing cattle from yer flock. We lost too many tae the storms and Aidan’s raid.” His jaw tightened. “I must replenish them or else me people will go hungry before the end of winter.”
Halvard nodded his agreement. “Ye must stay at Brochel a second night before ye return.”
“Aye. Although ‘tis nay good fer a laird tae be absent when there is evil afoot.” He gave a sad nod and, for the first time registered what could be a touch of sympathy in Halvard’s green eyes.
Although his spirits were low as he made his way to the chamber that was to be his, the hint of softening from Halvard kept his hopes alive.
After stripping off his kilt he slipped under the covers in the bed clad only in his shirt. After a sleepless night on the birlinn, holding Selene in his arms, he was asleep instantly, waking several hours later to a knock at his door.
Wrapped in his plaid he opened it to find a small maid standing there. “If ye’re awake, Laird Kenneth, the Lady Elsie has bid us bring water fer ye tae bathe. When ye’re done and dressed again she has arranged supper in the solar.”
He thanked the lass, smiling to himself at being wakened by the knock and then asked if he was awake. That was definitely Highland logic, if ever he’d heard it.
Moments later a series of scullery maids trooped through his room, emptying buckets of piping hot water into a large copper tub in the corner.
Now it was his turn to discover the wonders of bathing in hot water.
He sank into the tub, amazed that after only a few moments the aches in his back and legs eased and, by the time he’d thoroughly soaked and washed himself with a cake of clean-smelling soap, his aches had all but disappeared.
Mayhap there was something about bathing in this hot water, after all.
By the time the maid appeared to guide him to the solar he was feeling encouraged and hopeful. It was not in his nature to admit defeat and there was a growing certainty that no matter what, he would not deny his feelings of love for Selene.
He loved her and she was his. And the devil take the monstrous Aidan MacLeay if he should attempt to harm his lady. And, for that matter, the devil would be welcome to Halvard MacLeod if he continued to deny their marriage.
When he entered the solar, he found Selene and Elsie happily chattering by the fire. Selene’s face was glowing with happiness and his heart lifted immediately.
She was more beautiful than ever in a pretty blue gown with some sort of embroidery at the neck and sleeves.
Her rich chestnut locks flowed free down her back and he longed to spin his fingers through those wayward tresses.
His mind took him back to their last night together at Duntulm when he had pledged his love and they had slept, curled like puppies, in the soft warmth of the bed. He longed to be with her again.
He lifted his head. Soon, no matter Halvard’s objections, they would be together, their troubles behind them, and a new life ahead.
Minutes later, a smiling Halvard joined them. At least, Kenneth noted, he seemed to have mellowed somewhat since the earlier frosty meeting in his study.
It was clear that Elsie had spared no effort in making sure that her sister’s first meal in Castle Brochel was nothing but splendid.
The table at the center of the solar was set with three silver candelabras, their many candles creating a soft glow in the room. The table was set with a fine damask cloth, with knives and differing sizes of silver spoons. There were crystal goblets and damask napkins beside each setting.
The meal was indeed splendid. It consisted of a selection of spicy roasted meats – venison, wild duck and goose – little game pies wrapped in delicate pastry, oranges that must have come from Spain, melt-in-the-mouth sweet custard fools, and small and dainty almond and walnut cakes,
All of this was served with lashings of claret from Bordeaux, and flagons of ale.
Kenneth recognized how much of Elsie’s heart had gone into the preparation of such an elaborate feast and his heart warmed to her. She truly loved Selene and both had that in common.
“Why this is a marvelous welcome, Lady Elsie, I dae thank ye most profoundly.”
Elsie threw him a shrewd glance, but it was clear she had softened toward him. He could only wonder what Selene may have told her.
They idled over the meal, taking the many servings slowly. It was leisurely and companionable.
After a glass or two of wine, Halvard was almost friendly, and Elsie’s and Selene’s stream of chatter kept them all smiling. It seemed Elsie would not entertain any dire news that would interfere with the convivial evening.
Even when they were replete and took to the fireside to allow their splendid repast time to settle, Elsie refused to permit them to rest.
“Now fer a game of tafl,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument.
“Tafl?” Selene queried. “What is that?”
“I ken of it.” Kenneth said. “‘Tis an old game our Viking forefathers brought with them tae the islands. I’ve long wished fer a chance tae try me skill at it.”
Elie clapped her hands. “’Tis great fun if ye wish tae play.” She cast Kenneth an enquiring glance. “A game of skill. A king tries tae escape, with the help of his men, from a besieging army.”
“’Tis played on a checkerboard.” Halvard added with a grin.
“Is it akin to the game of Chess?” Selene asked.
“Aye.” Halvard said. “A Viking cousin of Chess.”
“Come,” Elsie got to her feet and walked over to a small table containing a board and two sets of pieces. “Here.” she indicated the central piece, larger than the others with a carved wooden crown on its head.
“Obviously the king.” Halvard murmured.
Elsie turned to Kenneth. “So, Laird Kenneth, ye should play against me husband. Two warriors who can use their skill and strategies tae take the other’s king.”
Kenneth laughed. “I’d enjoy that, Lady Elsie. I’m up fer the challenge.”
Halvard briefly explained to Kenneth how the game was played between two players, each with the objective of winning the other’s king – and taking each of his men in the process.
Both men seemed equally at ease, clearly both of them adept at hiding any emotion and showing only a steely gaze that gave no inkling of what they might be thinking.
Even as a young lad, Kenneth had excelled at games of strategy.
At the age of nine he was able to effortlessly defeat his father at chess.
He found Halvard to be a worthy opponent, yet at times he was careless, seeming not to keep his eye on his flank.
It was too easy for Kenneth to pick off Halvard’s men one-by-one, leaving his king exposed.
While Halvard was experienced at the game, Kenneth had the edge.
He carefully observed Halvard’s reactions.
He was clearly impressed at being outfoxed at a game he prided himself on for skill, but as they progressed Kenneth deduced it would not be in his interests to take Halvard’s king and win the game.
It would be too bad for Halvard to be beaten at his own game by someone who appeared to be a mere beginner.
He quietly moved his pieces in such a way that allowed Halvard to slowly take a winning position. After several more moves, where each could have been victorious Kenneth cannily allowed Halvard to move the winning piece and take his king.
Grinning, Halvard got to his feet and slapped Kenneth on the back.
“Well played, Laird Kenneth.”
“’Tis ye who is the winner, Laird Halvard. I bow tae yer superior skill.”
The mood in the room had lifted, the air flowing between them seemingly lighter. Kenneth was aware that Halvard had tested him and that he had acquitted himself well.
He could only hope that Halvard’s opinion may have mellowed somewhat as well.
Certainly, there was a subtle change in Halvard’s attitude. It was too much to call it warm, yet the frostiness had thawed somewhat and he was no longer bristling with unspoken challenges as he had been before.
After Selene had bade him goodnight and departed for her bedchamber on Elsie’s arm, Halvard reached for a flask and quirked an eyebrow in a manner that was almost friendly.
“D’ye care fer a wee dram before ye take tae yer bed, lad?”
Kenneth grinned and nodded. He would not refuse any amiable overture of Halvard’s.
They remained seated by the fire, sipping their whisky in almost companionable silence.
Finally, when the dram and another two fingers of the amber liquid had been consumed, Halvard rose to his feet.
“I’ll accompany ye back tae yer bedchamber Laird Kenneth, as ye may have trouble finding yer way.”
Kenneth laughed. “Och, Halvard, the whisky has a way of making a lad lose his bearings.”
As the two men progressed up the stairs and along the maze of corridors it occurred to Kenneth that Halvard might just be safeguarding his sister-in-law’s virtue by ensuring Kenneth went straight to his room.
He smiled to himself. He’d not had an opportunity to apprize Selene of Halvard’s refusal of his suit for her hand. That would have to wait until tomorrow.
He would stay another day as Halvard’s guest, although he was keenly aware of the risk – Duntulm and Sleat without the laird were vulnerable. Still, there remained matters that could not be rushed.