Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
S aints be praised!
Those were her thoughts and had been since she’d been told, early that morning, that her betrothed had run off with her sister. If ever two people deserved one another, it was Emelia and Luke. Selfish was where they began. No one knew where they ended, but the two of them were going to find out rather quickly. It was difficult to determine just who was the most self-centered out of the two of them, but her opinion was that Emelia was the worst of the pair.
She ought to know.
She’d grown up with the woman.
Eventide St. Brigid Moriston was the youngest of the two daughters of Fergus and Athole Moriston, and probably the only person in the family with any real brains. Fergus drank, Athole suffered from any ailment she could imagine, and Emelia was so caught up in what she wanted and how she intended to get it that not one person in the Highlands looked upon the family with any serious respect. The only redeeming quality of Blackrock Castle was the fact that Fergus was clan chief and had a good many lads who answered any call to arms, even though the area had known peace for years. Fergus was very concerned with alliances, however, which was why he made sure to pledge his daughters strategically when the time came.
In Eventide’s opinion, however, there was only one groom worth the asking.
She had always thought that Darien dun Tarh was the real catch. Luke Cannich had been smooth and flattering, a silver-tongued devil if there ever was one, but he was as shallow as a mud puddle. Just as dirty, too. There was no substance to the man, and Eventide had known that since childhood because she’d known Luke as long. Given that Moy Castle was fairly close to Blackrock, and their fathers were friends, she’d come into contact with Luke more than her share. He’d paid attention to her until he tried to stick his hand up her skirts and she hit him in the face. He’d ended up with two black eyes and a story of how a horse had kicked him.
But Eventide knew the truth.
She’d known the truth still when her father pledged her to him.
God, what a miserable moment that had been. Emelia, being a year and a half older, had ended up with the prize of Darien, while Eventide had been stuck with that blond-haired scoundrel. But her father had been pleased with the situation, so, like any dutiful daughter, she’d played along. All she could see was a dismal future with a husband she didn’t even like, but it seemed to mean so much to her father. He had been more pleased with the betrothal than she.
Therefore, this morning had been an answer to prayer.
Her prayer.
Even now, she was standing in the kitchen yard that was located outside of the main castle walls. The castle itself was on a rise, overlooking the Firth of Cromarty, so there were several levels to the castle itself. The kitchens and ovens were outside of the walls, down a flight of steps, but situated amongst some rocks that had acted as a foundation for another set of walls specifically for the kitchen area. Part of it had a roof, but the chicken coop was mostly open. They were built against the northern kitchen wall, nearly the length of it, and that was where Eventide found herself on this day, thanking the saints that her buffoon of a betrothed had run off with her sister as she tended to some new chicks that had hatched the previous day.
Truthfully, she hadn’t felt this good in months. But given the fact that her father was devastated by the situation, she made sure to keep her feelings to herself.
Playing the brave woman jilted by her betrothed was all she could do.
The wind was whipping in off the firth on this day, blowing hair across her face as she finished with the chicks. There was an enormous brood hen willing to tend to them, so she left them warm and cozy and called to one of the kitchen servants, making sure the woman knew which chickens to kill for supper. Some of the hens had stopped laying eggs and were destined for the stew pot. Finished with her duties at the chicken coop, she wiped her hands off on her apron and headed up the stairs that led through the doorway in the castle walls.
It was busy today because people were arriving for the coming nuptials. There was a field to the south of the castle where, already, houses were setting up encampments. Eventide paused, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, watching the men at the gate as they spoke with more guests, recently arrived.
“M’lady?”
The voice came from behind, and she turned to see Darien standing there. Tall and strong, with impossibly wide shoulders, the man couldn’t have been more handsome had he tried. He had luscious, dark hair, wavy, and the unique white streak on his forehead that gave him his name—
Darien the White.
Eventide thought it was more like Darien the Glorious.
“Darien,” she said, lowering her hand. “I’d heard ye arrived with yer family.”
He shrugged. “Only my da and two of my brothers,” he said. “My mother and the rest are due tae arrive tomorrow, but we came early tae… celebrate. It seems there is no reason tae do so now.”
He’d brought up what they both knew, and Eventide felt as if she needed to apologize to the man. It was her sister who had run off, after all. And her betrothed. She was tied to this more than he was, and even if she was glad they’d run off, she still harbored some guilt when it came to Darien because she knew something no one else did—when they searched her sister’s chamber, she had noticed that a satchel was missing. She hadn’t told anyone because it was confirmation of Emelia’s flight. Perhaps there was part of her that really didn’t want her father to bring Emelia home, because if she came home, Luke came home. And she’d be forced to marry him.
Therefore, it was better not to speak up.
It was better for everyone to think Emelia had simply vanished… never to return.
“I wish I knew why Emelia did what she did,” she said after a moment. “I will apologize for my sister. Ye dinna deserve this.”
He shook his head. “Dunna worry about me,” he said. “I should apologize tae ye.”
“What for?”
“Because Luke Cannich should be horsewhipped for what he’s done,” he said. “Ye’re a good lass, Evie. I’ve known ye long enough tae know that. What Luke did was shameful. The man is a fool.”
Eventide regarded him for a moment. She couldn’t tell just how upset he was, to be truthful. He seemed… morose. Resigned. Even reconciled? Was it possible the man’s own embarrassment at the situation was causing him to focus on her as someone who’d had more of a wrong committed against her? Certainly it would take the attention off him, but if she was being perfectly honest, she had never, in all of the months her sister had been betrothed to Darien, seen the man show any overt affection or attention toward her sister. Darien had been polite and attentive, smiling appropriately, showing what thoughtfulness was necessary, but she never got the sense that he was madly in love with her sister. The only sense she ever got was that he was being dutiful.
Like her.
Simply dutiful.
But she suspected if she didn’t show some disappointment, it might give away the fact that she was relieved about the whole thing.
“Ye’re kind,” she said, eyes downcast. “But please dunna be concerned with me. What happened tae me is small compared tae what happened tae ye. So many people are arriving for yer wedding feast, and I know my da is humiliated by the whole thing. I hope… I hope ye dunna feel that way. Emelia has always been impulsive. I’m not sure this means she tried tae hurt ye more than she simply wanted tae do what she wanted tae do. But I feel as if I should have seen this coming.”
Darien’s dark eyes were lingering on her, studying her. “And ye never saw any sign of it?” he said. “She never showed any interest toward Luke?”
Eventide nodded. “She spoke of him,” she said. “She told me I was fortunate because he was so handsome. I suppose if I think on it, there were times when he’d come tae visit me but I would see him speaking with my sister, out in the ward. Just the two of them. I never thought anything of it. Emelia never said anything about it. Honestly, if they are having a conversation that I am not part of, should I think they are discussing running off together?”
Darien shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Ye’re trusting that both are people of honor.”
“Did Emelia ever mention anything tae you about Luke?”
He had to think on that. “Nothing that should make me suspicious,” he said. “Though last month when I visited, she spoke of a desire tae travel and mentioned that Luke was going tae take ye tae Paris for yer wedding trip. She was envious of that and wanted me tae take her also.”
“What did ye tell her?”
“That I have business tae attend tae before we can travel.”
Eventide lifted her eyebrows. “I suspect she dinna take kindly tae that.”
“Nay,” Darien said firmly. “Emelia doesna like being denied.”
Eventide knew that was putting it mildly. She also noticed that, for the first time, Darien seemed weary. He was trying to make a good show of not being humiliated by the situation, but she didn’t think that was the case.
Perhaps he was more affected than he let on.
“Ye’re an important man, and she knew that,” she said. “She simply dinna want tae let on. Though I’m sorry one Moriston sister has wronged ye badly, mayhap ye’ll let the other sister show you the hospitality of Blackrock? Ye’ve had a long ride from the Hydra. Have ye eaten?”
Darien shook his head. “Not yet.”
Eventide swept her hand in the direction of the hall. “Then let me feed ye,” she said. “’Tis the least I can do.”
Darien’s gaze moved to the hall, its steeply pitched roof, the smoke curling from the chimney, and he shook his head. “My da and yer da are in the hall,” he said. “I dunna think they want us there right now.”
Eventide didn’t miss a beat. “Then come with me,” she said, turning in another direction. “I’ll find ye a quiet place.”
Darien did. He followed slightly behind the young woman who barely came to his sternum, but oh… what a woman she was. She had long, wavy hair past her buttocks, dark auburn in color, but he could see the flecks of gold in it brought out by the sunlight. Whereas Emelia had brown hair, straight and fine, and a not-unhandsome face with clear skin and blue eyes, Eventide had skin the color of cream and a dusting of auburn freckles across her nose. She had the biggest blue eyes Darien had ever seen, enormous and clear, with a fringe of long lashes all around them. She also had lips shaped like a rosebud that, when parted, revealed straight teeth like a row of pearls.
As Darien had told Fergus, Eventide was the beauty of the family.
That opinion had not changed.
She also had a round figure, with full breasts and round hips, something that was quite pleasing to look at. Darien found it difficult not to look at them now as she walked slightly ahead of him. He remembered Emelia telling him that Eventide had a taste for sweets, something that evidently gave her that round figure, but he didn’t care.
He thought it was delightful.
“Since our fathers are in the hall, the solar will be empty,” Eventide said as they mounted the stone steps into the keep. “This will be a quiet place for you tae eat and rest.”
He followed her into the dark, cold solar, a small chamber that was crammed with chairs and tables and lined with books on shelves. It smelled of smoke and dust, and as Darien brushed off one of the chairs, Eventide went straight to the hearth and began to stack the kindling.
“I think ye’re in luck today,” she said. “The cook has made fried cakes with her cloud cream. If they’re not all gone, I’ll bring ye some.”
“What’s cloud cream?”
Eventide paused to make a beating motion with her hand. “Cream that has been beaten and fluffed,” she said. “Cook adds honey tae sweeten it. It’s delicious.”
Darien nodded, silently agreeing. He was going to sit down, but when he saw that she was trying to light a fire, he went to the hearth and got down on his knees. “Here,” he said. “Let me do this. Ye shouldna dirty yer hands for me.”
Eventide let him take the flint and stone from her, looking at the man as he concentrated on sparking the kindling. He was so close to her that she could smell him. Like leather and horses. God, he’s beautiful, she thought. Everything about him made her heart race, and to realize what her sister had done to the man made her furious. Beyond furious, actually. It was enough to bring tears of anger to her eyes, and she sat back on her heels, watching him focus on the fire, thinking that she would throttle her sister the next time she saw her.
If she ever saw her again.
She didn’t realize she was sniffling until Darien looked up at her with concern.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
Quickly aware that she had tears on her cheeks, she wiped them away hastily and stood up. “Nothing,” she said. “I’ll see tae yer meal.”
He reached out and grasped her wrist before she could get away. “Wait,” he said softly. “Dunna go, lass. I know today has been a difficult day for ye. If anyone understands that, I do.”
Eventide broke down in tears. She didn’t know why she should, because she had been feeling fine all morning, but something about Darien’s stoic acceptance of a situation that surely must have been grossly humiliating to him had eaten at her, finally breaking through the shell of self-protection she’d kept over herself. As he held on to one wrist, she furiously wiped her eyes with her free hand.
“Ye dunna understand,” she said, unable to keep her mouth shut about it. “ I dunna understand, but I do know that I dunna weep for the reasons ye think. I dunna weep because Luke left me. I should be shouting for joy because of it.”
Darien stood up, brow furrowed. “What do ye mean?”
She continued wiping her eyes as she gently, but firmly, pulled her wrist from his grasp. “Dunna mind me,” she said, struggling to compose herself. “I’ll bring yer meal. Please sit and rest. I’ll return.”
She was gone before he could say another word. Puzzled, and concerned, Darien did as he was told, claiming the chair he’d originally intended to sit in, but all the while he was thinking about her words.
I should be shouting for joy because of it.
Was it possible she felt about Luke the way he felt about Emelia?
He wondered.
The fire in the hearth began to gain steam as he sat there and pondered the situation, but along with those thoughts, he was feeling his fatigue. He and his father and brothers had spent a little more than two days traveling from the Hydra, their family home on the shores of Loch Torridon. It was an enormous structure, perhaps one of the largest in the Highlands, a stone behemoth built over old wooden temples constructed, in centuries past, to worship a sea serpent that lived in the loch. At least, that was the tradition passed down from generation to generation. Darien had lived there most of his life and had never seen a hint of any serpent, but he knew as well as anyone that the Highlands of Scotland were a mysterious place that could hide any manner of beastie.
Mysterious or not, it was his home.
The very land was the blood in his veins.
“Here ye are!”
Jolted from his train of thought, he looked at the doorway to see both Aurelius and Estevan standing there. Before he could reply, they entered the chamber, looking for food or wine or anything to sustain them. Aurelius gave up his search fairly quickly and headed to the fire, holding out his hands to warm them, but Estevan was still rooting around.
“Food is on its way,” Darien said. “Sit down and warm yer bones. I’m still feeling the chill of the ride.”
There was a long chest near one of the windows and Estevan lay down on it, stretching out his big frame. “A long ride for nothing,” he muttered. “God’s bloody Bones, Dee. I couldna feel more pity for ye than I do. I’m sorry for ye, brother.”
Darien watched Estevan settle down and close his eyes before turning his attention to Aurelius. “Well?” he said. “Have Da and Fergus come tae blows?”
“Not yet,” Aurelius said. “But it would be better that we let them speak in private. There is a lot tae say between them.”
Darien scratched his chin, his gaze returning to the hearth, where a healthy fire had taken root. “I would imagine so,” he said. “Not the least of which is even if Emelia is returned, I’ll not marry her. I’ll not touch another man’s leavings.”
Aurelius eyed his brother. He had his own seat of Lydgate Castle, far to the south on the English border, so he wasn’t home very often these days. Perhaps no more than three or four times a year, less now that he and his wife had a son. He didn’t like to spend time away from his strapping boy, Alvarez, who was his spitting image. But he knew enough about what was going on at the Hydra, and Scotland in general, because both Darien and his father sent him frequent messages about it. They were involved in Scotland’s rule, and Aurelius, having married an English lass and assumed an English title, was involved on the English side.
But this marriage that Darien found himself committed to was something Aurelius had questioned since the beginning. Lares spoke of it and what a great alliance it would be, but Darien had said nothing—unusual for the brother who wasn’t usually at a loss for words. Scotland’s politics aside, Darien’s silence on the marriage issue had been telling. Estevan had confirmed, whispering to him while they were in the chamber with their father and Fergus.
Darien didn’t want his bride.
He never had.
“Darien, ye know I’d never speak against Da,” Aurelius said after a moment. “But I know.”
“Know what?”
“About this betrothal,” Aurelius continued quietly. “Estevan told me what ye said about it, that ye never wanted it. We’ve known the Moriston family for years and, quite honestly, I never thought the eldest daughter was a good match for ye. I understand why Da brokered the contract because, strategically, the marriage would serve a purpose.”
Darien looked at him. “It’s not an issue now,” he said. “I’ll not take her back.”
“Even if Da insists?”
“Especially if he insists,” Darien muttered. “ He wanted this betrothal. Not me.”
“But ye were going tae go through with it.”
“Of course I was,” he said. “I tell ye what I told Stevan. I was going tae go through with it because that’s what Da wanted. Not because it was what I wanted. The truth is that Emelia is petty and vain, and not someone I want for a wife.”
Aurelius looked at his brother, understanding the situation. Darien was being a good son. He was doing what his father wanted. But Emelia’s disappearance had given him an excuse to back out.
Perhaps it was for the best.
“What do ye intend tae do now?” Aurelius asked quietly. “And is there anything I can do for ye?”
Darien raked his fingers through his dark hair, disturbing the white streak on his widow’s peak. “Nay,” he said, sounding less defiant but wearier. “But I thank ye for asking. Coming tae Blackrock today made me feel as if I was coming tae my own execution. Married tae someone like Emelia, someone I’d have tae leave alone for weeks and months at a time while I went about my business, was a potential nightmare. I knew I couldna trust her. I knew that from the start. Running off with Cannich simply proves it, and I must say that I am greatly relieved. The last thing I need is tae have a wife I must worry over.”
Lying on the chest against the wall, Estevan started to snore loudly. Both Aurelius and Darien chuckled at the sound.
“He still sounds like an old boar,” Aurelius said. “I will admit that I’ve missed that.”
Darien glanced over his shoulder at Estevan. “The man can rattle the roof off the keep,” he said. “I dunna think I will miss it.”
“Ye say that now.”
That had Darien looking at his brother, deflecting his thoughts from his current situation. “But ye’re happy, Bear?” he said. “All Mother can speak of is how happy ye are. When yer son came this past year, she said she’d never seen ye glow as ye do now. I must admit that I see it, too.”
Bear . That was Aurelius’ nickname to the family because when he and Darien had been toddlers, Darien tried to say “brother,” but it came out as “ba-bear” and the name stuck. It was a term of endearment, but also a show of love and respect between two brothers who were perhaps the closest of the group. Eight brothers could be chaotic at times, but Aurelius and Darien had always been tight, the leaders who held the siblings together. They knew each other better than anyone, and Aurelius heard the curiosity, or perhaps even the longing, in Darien’s voice when he asked the question.
“She’s right,” Aurelius said softly, a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve never been happier than I am now. Ye’ll have that opportunity someday, Dee. Now simply isn’t the right time.”
“Or the right bride,” Darien said, rolling his eyes. But he quickly sobered as he looked at his brother again. “I know I spoke unkindly of Valery when ye first met her. I’ve apologized for it before, but hearing how happy ye are makes me regret my unkindness even more. I hope ye know how much I adore yer wife. She’s a great lady.”
Aurelius smiled, thinking of the woman he loved more than anything else in the world. “I agree with ye,” he said. “And the man that was unkind those years ago doesna exist anymore. Ye’ve grown, Dee. Ye’ve matured intae an astonishing man right before my eyes. With everything ye’ve undertaken for Robbie Stewart, I couldna be prouder of ye.”
Robbie Stewart. Now they’d broached a greater subject that affected their lives. Aurelius was speaking of Robert Stewart, the High Steward of Scotland, who had been appointed by the Scottish Parliament to replace King David whilst the man was in captivity. Aurelius had brought up the crux of the involvement of Darien, and himself, in the dynamic and explosive politics between the Scottish and the English Crown.
That was where the dun Tarh brothers were forced to part.
It was tradition in the Earl of Torridon’s family, for centuries, that the eldest dun Tarh son foster in an important English household. Lares had done it and Aurelius, as the firstborn male, had also. He had spent fifteen years in England, fostering at Berwick Castle and Winchester Castle before being knighted by the Earl of Warenton, head of the powerful de Wolfe family. Mabel, Aurelius’ mother, was from the de Velt family, another formidable family in the north, and they had married into the House of de Wolfe long ago, so de Wolfe and de Velt were considered family by the Earldom of Torridon.
But it made things the least bit complicated.
And that complication was now. Aurelius was part of Edward III’s court, and an integral part of the imprisonment of King David, who had been defeated in the Battle of Neville Cross and taken captive. That had put Robert Stewart on the throne, his being high steward, and Darien was entrenched in Robert’s court as one of his advisors.
Each man had inside information.
Each man had his loyalties.
“Robbie is a difficult man,” Darien said after a moment. “And he is indicating that he’ll not support the money the nobles are currently attempting tae raise tae ransom David. Have ye heard any talk of that?”
Aurelius shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Edward hasna mentioned it. What makes ye think they willna support ransoming their own king?”
Darien glanced at Estevan again, making sure the man wasn’t listening, even though he trusted him. But what he had to tell his brother was explosive. He’d been waiting for this moment for several months, knowing he’d see Aurelius at his wedding. They hadn’t traveled to Blackrock together—they saw each other for the first time last night when they met up outside of Inverness. Usually, they employed trusted messengers to relay their information, but in this case, he hadn’t wanted to put this in writing.
It was that serious.
“Robbie wants Berwick returned tae the Scots,” Darien muttered. “I have it on good authority that he intends tae ruin the ransom of David, and the promised hostages in exchange for his freedom, because he is negotiating with the French tae ally with him when he moves tae capture Berwick.”
Aurelius’ eyebrows lifted. “The French on English soil?”
“The French helping the Scots regain Berwick,” Darien said, a knowing gleam in his eye. “A Scots-French alliance against the English. That’ll destroy everything, Bear. David is a dead man if that happens. Edward thinks he has leverage against the Scots by holding David, but Robbie is in secret negotiations with English enemies.”
They were prevented from further conversation when Eventide suddenly entered the chamber, followed by three serving women bearing trays of food and drink. Aurelius had a look of shock on his face while he mulled over what he’d been told, as Eventide had the servants set the food down on the big table cluttered with her father’s things.
“I hope this is tae yer liking,” she said, pouring out cups of ale as Darien rose wearily to inspect the food. “Stew with chicken and greens, boiled mutton, and fruit pie.”
Darien took the cup of ale that she extended to him. “Yer hospitality is generous, m’lady,” he said. “Thank ye.”
Eventide smiled timidly. “Given the unkindness showed tae ye by my family, ’tis the least I could do,” she said. “Please enjoy. When ye’re ready tae retire, please send for me and I’ll show ye where ye’ll sleep.”
“Is it the same place I’ve slept in past visits?” Darien asked.
She nodded. “Aye.”
“Then ye dunna need tae escort me,” he said. “I can find it. My brothers, too?”
Eventide looked at the well-built brother standing near the table. The other brother was sleeping like the dead on an old chest. “Aye,” she said. “Yer brothers, too. And yer father.”
“I dunna think I’ve had the pleasure of an introduction,” Aurelius said, recovering from his shock enough to show his manners. “Will ye introduce us, Dee?”
Darien indicated Eventide. “This is Eventide Moriston, Emelia’s sister,” he said. “M’lady, this is my eldest brother, Aurelius.”
Eventide dipped into a polite curtsy. “I’ve not had the opportunity tae welcome ye tae Blackrock, m’lord,” she said. “Ye arrived with yer father and went straight intae the hall.”
Aurelius nodded. “There was much tae discuss,” he said, stating the obvious. There was no use avoiding it. “May I extend my sorrow at what has happened? It not only affects my brother, but it affects ye, too. I am appalled for ye. Luke Cannich is a dastardly man.”
The smile on her face faded and she averted her gaze. “Please enjoy yer food,” she said, unwilling to discuss the situation. “If I can be of further assistance, please send for me.”
She was gone before anyone could say a word to her. Darien watched her go, feeling some sorrow at her reaction to his brother’s words. Aurelius, too, could see that his sympathies weren’t well met.
“I dinna mean tae chase her away,” he said. “I hope I dinna offend her.”
Darien shook his head. “I dunna think ye did,” he said. “I had a brief conversation with her earlier and she apologized for her sister quite a bit, but when it came tae Luke… She has the same feeling for him that I have for Emelia.”
Aurelius looked surprised. “She doesn’t want tae marry the man?”
Darien waggled his dark brows. “Let’s say there doesna seem tae be any love lost,” he said. “’Tis a difficult situation.”
Aurelius grunted as he reached out to scoop up some of the stew into a cup. “Cannich left that lass for her sister?” he said, shaking his head. “Though we’ve known the family, I’ve never met the daughters. Emelia must be magnificent if that’s the one he left behind.”
Darien’s attention moved to the empty doorway as if he still saw Eventide standing there. “Emelia is as plain as snow,” he said. “But Evie… She’s like the sun. Glorious.”
There was something in his tone that caused Aurelius to look at him curiously. Before he could say anything, however, Lares was suddenly in the doorway.
“Ah,” he said. “Here ye are. Stevan, get up!”
Estevan was snoring his head off, and Lares charged into the chamber, kicking his son’s booted feet. That had Estevan startling himself right off the chest as Lares turned to Aurelius and Darien.
“’Tis war,” he said quietly. “Fergus and I have decided that Reelig Cannich must pay for his son’s actions. Our honor is at stake, lads. We ride for Moy Castle.”
Estevan picked himself off the floor, rubbing his eyes, as his older brothers faced their father. “Now?” Aurelius said, surprised. “But we need men. Ye only brought twenty men with ye, Da, and I brought about the same. We cannot lay siege tae Moy with forty men.”
“It willna be forty men,” Lares said, looking at Estevan. “Stevan, ye’ll ride back to the Hydra and gather the men. Call them in from the Highlands. We’ll need as many as ye can muster in a day because I want ye tae return tae Blackrock within the week.”
Aurelius and Darien glanced at each other in concern. “Da, if ye wait, Cannich will have time tae fortify his position,” Darien said. “Do ye truly think he doesn’t know we’re coming? Why do ye think he went home this morning?”
Lares frowned. “It canna be helped,” he said. “The man deserves what’s coming tae him. He’s wronged both Fergus and me.”
“Agreed,” Darien said. “But it will take too much time tae summon men from the Hydra. Ye’d do better tae seek men from Foulis Castle.”
Lares looked at him sharply. “Padraig Munro?” he said. “Foulis is a half-day’s ride from here.”
“And he’s allied with MacKenzie, as we are,” Darien said. “Old Padraig can bring ye a thousand lads tae overrun Moy.”
Lares had a gleam in his eye as he considered the possibility. “Padraig’s mother and my mother were cousins,” he said. “The man is kin.”
“Aye, he is. And he likes a good fight.”
That made Lares’ decision for him. He turned to Estevan once again. “Ride for Foulis,” he said. “Tell Padraig what has happened and request men. We have a man tae punish.”
Estevan nodded, glancing at his brothers before he quit the chamber. He was an excellent fighter, but more the diplomatic type—he would rather find a peaceful resolution and fight as a last resort—but could see that Lares was determined to punish Reelig.
Not that he really blamed him.
With Estevan on the move, Lares turned to Aurelius. “Yer mother and sisters and the rest of yer brothers should be here by tomorrow,” he said. “Ride out tae find them and turn them back for the Hydra. If there is tae be battle, I dunna want them here.”
Aurelius scratched his head. “Ye know that Mother will want tae come,” he said. “I canna keep her away if she doesn’t want tae turn away.”
Lares sighed heavily. “Yer mother is the light of my soul, but she’s a stubborn woman,” he said. “Do what ye can, Aurelius. Try tae turn her back.”
Aurelius knew that was impossible, but he tended to agree with his father. He didn’t want his mother and sisters at a castle involved in military action. As Aurelius headed out to find his mother’s incoming party, Darien looked at his father.
“Once ye capture Moy, then what?” he asked. “And what if Fergus’ men find Cannich and drag him back here tae face his sins?”
Lares caught sight of the ale and went to pour himself a measure. “One of Fergus’ men has returned tae say they combed Inverness and couldna find them,” he said. “They’re moving on tae Glasgow.”
Darien watched his father drain nearly half the pitcher, debating whether or not to speak up. There was much on his mind, much he hadn’t spoken of to his father, but they were alone now.
No time like the present.
“What’s the purpose of bringing them back?” he asked quietly. “I willna marry her, Da. I’ll not marry Cannich’s leavings.”
Lares didn’t seem particularly surprised by that statement. “She’s yer bride, lad,” he said. “Legally and by God, she belongs tae ye.”
“I dunna want her,” Darien said. “I never wanted her. It was bad enough tae agree tae the marriage when we’d all heard the rumors about her. Like Cannich, we knew she had a wandering eye.”
“She’s rich,” Lares said flatly, looking at his son as if daring him to argue with that. “She’s very rich, and when Fergus passes on, ye’ll inherit Blackrock, her herds, and the title. Ye’ll be Laird Shandwick.”
“I dunna want it,” Darien said calmly. “Not if I have tae marry Emelia tae get it.”
Lares sighed heavily. He wasn’t exactly rising to the argument, but he wanted his son to think about the situation more logically than he was. “Do ye not understand that I’m doing the best I can for ye?” he said. “Dee, ye’ll not inherit anything from me. It all goes to Aurelius. I’m trying tae bring you a fortune and a title, lad. I’m sorry it has tae be with the likes of Emelia, but it will be an important alliance. And ye’ll have a title and respect. Do ye not want that?”
Darien grunted unhappily and turned away. “The cost is too high,” he said, letting some emotion slide through. “Did ye stop tae think that I may want a marriage with a woman I like? Ye married for love. So did Bear. Now I’m not allowed tae?”
Lares went to his son, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We all hope tae marry for love,” he said quietly. “But the truth is that it rarely happens. Emelia may not be the perfect prospect, but she brings a great deal with her. A man can overlook quite a bit with such a fortune.”
Darien looked at him, frowning. “And how much respect for myself do I have if I marry a woman who has run from me?” he said. “She’s shamed me, Da.”
“Fergus willna break the betrothal,” Lares said, divulging what he’d been trying to hold off telling him. During his argument with the man, Fergus had made that clear. “He will bring her back and ye’ll marry her. We’ll lay siege tae Moy Castle and it will belong tae ye. Ye’ll have a massive amount of property, Darien. Two castles and land that will take you an entire day to reach one end of it? Ye’ll have tae take comfort in that, because Fergus willna let ye escape the betrothal. The woman is yers whether or not ye want her.”
Darien stared at him a moment before closing his eyes as if to ward off the reality of the situation. He turned away, unable to reply, but he didn’t have to. Lares could feel his disappointment and disgust.
“Take heart, lad,” he murmured. “And mayhap ye’ll grow tae like her. If ye try. If not… if not, then spend your time away from her and count yer money. Lose yerself in Robbie’s court and never come home. Life is what ye make of it, Dee. Ye can either spend yer life miserable… or not.”
With that, he turned back to the food while Darien sat heavily in the nearest chair.
Wishing the earth would open up and swallow him.