Chapter Eleven #2
She wanted to refuse, needing for some reason to deny him in some way. But the inviting smile he gave her, one that erased the frown on his forehead, would not let her decline.
“I will join you there,” she agreed.
The hall was abuzz with the story of her mishap in the firth by the time she made her way downstairs a few hours later.
After a brief and fitful nap, Lara decided to make an appearance.
Delaying would simply make it more difficult, so she had Margaret help her dress and fix her hair under a respectable covering.
Once she left the tower and entered the hall, everyone she walked past inquired about her health.
Even the irritating Sir Hugh asked if she’d recovered from her experience yet.
The smirk on his face made her believe that he spoke more of the time in her chambers than what drove her there.
However, she would not lower herself to confirm his insulting innuendos.
Margaret took him to task in a whirlwind of furious whispering once Lara had turned away.
At least their involvement was for some good purpose.
Sebastien had not yet taken his seat; indeed, he stood in the middle of the hall, speaking with a tall, broad-shouldered man she did not recognize.
’Twas not so unusual, since many new people lived here in the castle and in the small villages surrounding it.
Some were his own soldiers and some carried out the Bruce’s direct orders.
Sebastien waved at her and broke off his conversation to meet her.
Before he could say a word, Malcolm came running in from the yard, with Philippe following closely behind him.
Skidding to a stop in front of them, Malcolm clutched her hand and whispered loudly to her.
“Have you heard, Lara? Have you heard the news?”
Sebastien cut off his words quickly. “Malcolm! Your sister is not yet recovered from her mishap of this morn. Give her some peace and quiet. See to your duties.”
Malcolm’s mutinous frown was the only sign that he might argue, but when Philippe grabbed him and tugged at him, he nodded to Sebastien and followed the squire.
This week, Philippe was instructing Malcolm in the ways to serve his lord at table.
Although Sebastien’s methods of training the boy were more Lowlander than Highlander, Malcolm reveled in the duties assigned to him and the new tasks he was learning under Philippe’s, Sebastien’s and even Sir Hugh’s tutelage.
“He did not argue with you,” Lara said, surprised that Malcolm did as he was told to do. He usually bristled at any order given by her.
“Malcolm is learning quickly. His temper rules him at times because he is so young. Come,” Sebastien said, offering his arm to her, “meet my friend.”
“Your friend? You have never told me of friends.”
“I have not told you much about me at all, Lara. But, as things continue to quiet and to settle, there will be time.”
She walked at his side and began to worry at his friend’s reaction to a MacDougall wife. His men could be ordered to show respect, but how would this knight treat her? Sebastien turned to her. “Something troubles you?” he whispered.
“Your friend…does he know of me?” Lara watched as the stranger continued in lively conversation with Sir Hugh and a few other knights.
Sebastien pulled her to a stop and turned her to face him.
“Is this the same woman who challenged me and refused me entrance when she controlled Dunstaffnage? Is this the same woman who, only this morn, plunged headlong into the firth to save her brother when she could not swim? Tell me where this fear comes from?”
Lara struggled to understand it herself.
Then she realized that no matter how she might want to make her life go back to what it had been, it would not.
This morning, when she’d offered Sebastien, her husband, her hand, she had taken a step and there was no turning back from the decision. She had changed. Her life had changed.
“His opinion matters to you?” she asked.
“Aye. He has been a true friend for years.”
“Then it matters to me as well,” she explained, trying to put her fear into words. “I would not have him think less of you because you married an enemy’s daughter.”
He laughed at her words and then lowered his voice before continuing. “Lara, fear not about James. If I were a man who gambled, I would say that James is most likely the one who gave the king the idea of our marriage. He is the king’s closest friend and counselor.”
She began to argue, but he put his finger to her lips. “I believe him to be a fair man. Meet him and then tell me what you think of him.”
A twinkling in his eyes warned her of something afoot, but he gave her no chance to object again. Sebastien guided her to the man he’d been talking to, and pulled her close. “James, let me present my wife to you.”
Lara took a step forward and held out her hand to him. Sebastien’s friend kissed it lightly and bowed. It was a graceful bow, one worthy of a nobleman in the royal court. He brushed his black hair out of his eyes and greeted her with a smile and a soft voice.
“My lady, ’tis a pleasure to finally meet the woman who held Sebastien of Cleish outside her gates.” His hand was warm as he grasped hers for a moment more. “Not many have refused him entrance and lived to tell.” He glanced over at Sebastien, who suddenly looked like a very nervous man.
Although she was certain that his words held another meaning, she smiled back. The knight’s impeccable manners and pleasing personality put her at ease. “Have you eaten yet, Sir James?”
“It is simply James, my lady, for I have not attained knighthood yet. My thanks for your gracious invitation, but there are arrangements I must discuss with your husband before I can take my ease. Will you excuse us for a very short time?”
“Lara?”
Sebastien squeezed her hand, most likely because she was staring at his friend. A strange and puzzling twist at the bottom of her stomach tightened as a niggling suspicion bothered her mind. James? Friend and confidant to the Bruce? Lara pulled her hand from Sebastien’s grasp.
“James,” she repeated as she looked more closely at him. “James Douglas?”
A wide grin broke out on his face and he nodded. “At your service, my lady.”
Others were beginning to watch their exchange, some of the servants and some of Sebastien’s men as well. She could not keep her voice from growing louder, partly due to the shaking that seized her at the realization of the true identity of the man standing before her. She clenched her fists.
The very devil was in their midst.
“The Black Douglas?” She glanced over at Sebastien, who seemed interested now in the way the ceiling joints were arranged.
“Sweet Mother of God, you’ve let the devil himself into Dunstaffnage!
” Lara raised her hand to bless herself when Sebastien reached over and took hold of her arm, preventing her from completing the sign of the cross.
Silence filled the room as those who knew already and those who were just discovering that the scourge of southern Scotland, the man who Scottish mothers warned their children about, stood before them, focused their attention on the center of the room.
“He does not particularly like it when people cross themselves in his presence,” her husband whispered as he held her hand firmly in his own. “He says he finds it to be insulting.”
The man in question watched the scene unfolding and could hear every word Sebastien whispered. Lara was, however, about to tell the Black Douglas exactly what she thought of him when he leaned over to her, mimicking her husband’s position, and whispered his own words in a gruff voice.
“And ye dinna want to anger the devil himself, do ye now, lass?”
She jumped back, for his voice took on a whole different tone and a menacing one at that.
“James, have a care here! You are terrorizing my wife and in front of me. Have you no shame?” Sebastien reached out and punched James on the arm, and Lara was tempted to run.
“Here now, there is no call for violence,” Sir Hugh stated as he approached. “A messenger from the king is waiting to speak to you both.”
The three men turned their gazes on Lara at the same moment.
Feeling very much the outsider, she knew she must leave.
But, here was an opportunity to learn important information from the Bruce’s own men, his closest counselors and fighters.
This was exactly what Eachann had pressed her about, what he wanted to know.
A pang of regret and confusion filled her now.
If she had taken a step toward being Sebastien’s wife, could she continue reporting his plans to her clan?
The entire hall grew quiet once more and Lara became aware from the stares toward her that the men were waiting for her to leave. She made her decision in that moment of rejection—she would find out from the Black Douglas what Eachann needed.
“My lord,” she said, curtsying to Sebastien and simply narrowing her gaze when she looked at James and Sir Hugh. “I would speak to the cook about the evening meal. If you would excuse my absence?”
Sebastien appeared to want to say something to her, but he gave her permission with a nod and she walked past them toward the kitchens’ stairs.
And to the steward’s chamber, where she could hear everything they said when they were not guarding their words.