Chapter Thirteen #2
And the afternoon was beginning to follow that pattern as well—Lara was drawn into many activities she’d not done since her father had been in charge here.
Callum sent her some trunks of clothing that Sebastien’s soldiers found in the storage rooms, as well as one containing her mother’s precious books, and along with Margaret’s and Catriona’s help, she sorted through them.
Lara was in the solar when she heard shouting outside.
She looked out the window and was stunned by the scene unfolding before her.
Both James and Sir Hugh faced Sebastien in the middle of the yard, bare-chested, with swords drawn.
Many onlookers circled them and cheered them on.
She could tell where James’s men stood, as well as her husband’s from their battle cries.
Even Sir Hugh had a small group of noisy supporters.
The warriors offered a few taunts to each other and then the fight began.
With sword and shield, they attacked and were fended off in turn.
Although it appeared to be a friendly clash, soon the intensity grew until blood was flowing.
Margaret joined Lara at the window and they both held their breath at the blows given and taken.
Lara tried with all her will to keep from screaming aloud.
They were daft! Men were daft. Most likely, they were risking head and hand to settle some wager. James first disarmed, then knocked Sir Hugh to the ground and held him there with the point of his sword at his neck.
“Do you yield, Sir Hugh?” he called out, while fending Sebastien off with his shield.
“Aye,” Sir Hugh replied. And before Lara could say anything to her maid, Margaret was running from the room, her destination never in doubt.
Lara stood frozen in place there, watching as Sebastien went on the attack now, barely waiting for Sir Hugh to gain his feet and leave the fight.
She held her breath and then gasped as each blow was struck.
James Douglas was an incredible swordsman and there was never a moment’s hesitation in his attack.
Sebastien seemed to be pacing himself and not allowing James to goad him into any rash movements.
A long while passed as the men, matched in strength and endurance, continued to swing and hit, duck and bend, twist and turn.
Then Sebastien’s shield went flying out of his hand.
Definitely at a disadvantage now, he maneuvered to James’s shield side.
Charging and then feinting, he managed to get close enough to slide his sword under James’s and send it flying into the air.
Both men went running for it and Lara could hear herself murmuring Sebastien’s name, hoping that he reached it first. And she let out a little cry as he did. Now with both swords and his opponent with only a shield, he attacked and beat the other man back and to the ground.
“I yield,” the Black Douglas called out loudly.
“You what?” Sebastien demanded, holding his sword to the man’s throat.
“I yield to the Lord of Dunstaffnage!” James answered.
As though absorbing the support that poured forth from the men he commanded, Sebastien stood over the prone figure of Scotland’s most feared fighter with outstretched arms. Tears filled Lara’s eyes at the sight of it.
She knew it was simply a challenge between friends, but watching it had been overwhelming to her—forcing her to see just a bit of what a real battle was like.
And the dangers of it.
James rolled to his feet and held out the now battered shield to his squire.
Sebastien relinquished James’s sword to him and then the men bowed to each other and, turning, to the crowd that watched.
The warrior leaned into Sebastien and spoke some words that only they could hear.
Then, Sebastien handed his weapon to Philippe.
Malcolm ran to his side and seemed to be asking many questions.
Sebastien spent some time answering him and then waved both the lads off.
He had such patience with Malcolm’s boyish curiosity, and interest in all things connected to his training.
He had patience with her own behavior and her delay in accepting their marriage or even his presence here as lord.
She sighed. He had such patience when another man would have retaliated harshly.
That was probably why, despite her best efforts to the contrary, she was falling in love with him now.
Sebastien chose the moment of her realization to look up to the window where she stood.
He met her gaze directly and she feared he could read her thoughts.
More than once he seemed to have that ability, but she was not ready to show this to him yet.
She nodded and stepped back from the window until she knew he could see her no longer.
Lara took a deep breath and waited to see how this new awareness would feel. It could not be a good thing, for there were so many problems involved.
“My lady?” Philippe broke into her daydreaming. “My lord asks you to join him in the yard.” The boy bowed very respectfully and waited for her answer.
“What is this about, Philippe?”
“I am not privy to my lord’s thinking, my lady. He simply bade me to carry this message to you. Oh, your pardon, lady. He bade me tell you to bring your cloak.”
He stood with such a serious look about him, as if delivering this message was a vitally important mission, that she did not have the heart to refuse this summons.
“Very well, Philippe. I will follow you in a moment.”
He appeared inordinately pleased and he bowed to her and left.
Lara took her cloak from the peg near the door and went to see what Sebastien wanted of her.
She discovered him waiting close to the place where he’d fought with James.
His hair was wet and he tugged a tunic back over his head as she approached him.
“My lord,” she said, curtsying in greeting. “Felicitations on your victory over the Black Douglas.”
“He is standing right behind you, Lara. I would not want to celebrate or gloat until he leaves.”
She turned slowly and jumped when she discovered the man was truly a few feet from where she stood. Once more she lifted her hand to her brow to bless herself, until she recognized what she was doing.
“My lady, I know the news will not engender any sense of loss to you, but I fear that my men and I must be about the king’s business,” the Douglas announced.
“Now, James?” She tried to keep the joy from her voice. If she spoke the truth, she would be much more comfortable once the Black Douglas was gone from here. And gone far away.
“Now, my lady.” He stepped closer and lifted her hand to his lips. “May I give your regards to the king when I see him next?” She noticed he did not release her hand.
“I have no doubt that you shall regale him with the story of our meeting, sir.”
“Just so, my lady. For now, until we meet again, enchanté.” He kissed her hand and then let it go.
“Merci, monsieur,” she answered…in the same courtly French. The same language the men had spoken in the hall when discussing their plans for taking the last remaining keeps holding out against the Bruce. Was this a trap?
“You see, Sebastien. Your lady is infinitely talented. She speaks the language of the court, in addition to Gaelic and,” he paused and looked at her directly when asking in that tongue, “English as well?”
“Yes, I speak all three and a smattering of Latin, although I do read it better than I speak or write it.”
Sebastien stepped closer to her. “It comes as no surprise to me, James. I have known for some time of her talents.”
Now she looked at him, for this seemed to be turning into a battle of words between the two men.
“Even before I met her, I knew of her vast education. She was, after all, the Maid of Lorne.” He smiled at her. “As the one who carries such a title, languages, writing and reading, and even the duties of chatelaine, were expected of her.”
“Well, Sebastien, now that we have established that your wife is a gifted woman, I must take my leave. The king and his business await.”
She answered his bow with a curtsy and waited while Sebastien escorted him to the gates. A few minutes later, her husband was back. She shivered from the uneasiness James caused in her.
“Is that a chill? The weather is exceptional today, but here now, let me help you with your cloak if you are cold.”
“I do not like that man,” she stated, shaking off his attempt to do so.
“I confess I have never heard him baiting someone as he did you. He’s used to having people simper around him.
” Sebastien held out his arm and she laid hers on it, allowing him to guide her steps.
“James is a simple man, truly. Only those who are a threat to Robert need fear him. Since he pledged himself to the Bruce, that is the overriding law of his life.”
Saying nothing would be better than attempting anything meaningful, so she nodded and followed his path.
“Are you not going to ask where we go?” Sebastien spoke in that deep and tempting tone that made her breathless.
“And would you tell me if I asked?” she asked.
“Nay, ’tis a surprise I’ve planned for us.”
“Then, my lord, lead on.”
The surprise was an afternoon away from the castle. Sebastien had two horses ready and they rode around the shoreline of the firth, exploring the beaches and even the caves where she’d played as a child and where Malcolm played more recently.
It was the first time since Sebastien’s arrival that she’d been permitted to ride, and she enjoyed every moment of it.
They returned to the castle in time for the evening meal and it was one of the most pleasant she’d had in such a long time.
With James gone, the tension was much diminished for her and, it would seem, for everyone in Dunstaffnage.
Even Catriona was permitted to join them, and for a short time, Lara could forget her cares and worries.
Sebastien made love to her gently and silently that night and then simply held her within his embrace until they slept. It was at that moment when sleep came to claim her that she realized what was wrong with this perfect day.
It was the fifth day since her last visit with Eachann, and she had not gone to the church to meet him. She’d overheard the most significant information to give him since the day of Brander Pass, and she simply could not bring herself to do it.
How did you willingly betray someone you were falling in love with?