Chapter 17
TWO DAYS LATER
“Come on, Magnus, give us a real challenge,” Hunter taunted, twirling his sword.
Magnus grunted, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Daenae get too comfortable, me Laird. I’m just getting started.”
“Are ye sure? Because from where I’m standing, we’ve been sparring for five minutes, and ye have yet to make a single move that I struggled to parry. I might die of old age before ye start.”
Magnus snorted. “Trying to provoke me, me Laird?”
“Trying and succeeding, it looks like.”
At once, Magnus flung himself across the space, his sword swinging, glinting in the sunlight.
The assembled men, who’d been watching Hunter and Magnus spar in stunned silence, let out ragged gasps.
Hunter neatly sidestepped the blow, swinging his own sword in a low arc that would have severed Magnus’s Achilles tendon if they’d been fighting in earnest.
As it was, Magnus jumped back, dodging the blow, and the men around them sighed in relief.
“Should we stop before we give one of them apoplexy?” Magnus murmured, rolling his eyes toward the spectators.
Grinning, Hunter was about to make a comment, but he was cut off by the rumble of cart wheels. Lowering his sword, he twisted around to peer at the gate.
“I didnae ken the carriage had been taken out,” he remarked.
“Oh, aye, Lady Helena ordered it. She and her English friends went out to a local market this morning.”
Hunter ran his tongue over his teeth. “She should have told me first. And only Lady Pilbury is English. Daphne and Willow are Scottish, same as us.”
Magnus shrugged, losing interest. He turned away, speaking to one of the soldiers.
Hunter remained where he was, watching the carriage roll to a halt.
His mother was the first to clamber out, chattering nonstop to the people still inside.
Lady Pilbury alighted after her, swathed in shawls and scarves.
Willow was handed down next, hitting the ground running and chattering excitedly.
A small furry face poked out of the shawl around her neck, hinting that River had gone with them on the outing.
Last but certainly not least, Daphne elegantly stepped down onto the paved courtyard. Her hair was wound into an untidy braid that hung down her back. He was pretty sure that was a Scottish style, as all the Englishwomen he’d seen wore their hair demurely piled up on top of their heads.
He somehow knew that she’d lift her eyes and look at him. Sure enough, her gaze shot across the courtyard and landed on him. Her expression didn’t change, except for her lips pressing together.
“Mama, Mama, come inside, let’s look at what we bought today!” Willow cried, tugging on her hand.
Daphne dropped her gaze. Forcing a smile, she followed her daughter and the others into the castle and out of sight.
Hunter felt his throat tighten, and he struggled to swallow.
“What’s all that about, me Laird?” Magnus’s voice sounded at his elbow.
Glancing over his shoulder, Hunter saw that his man-at-arms was frowning in Daphne’s direction.
“Oh, nothing,” he replied, as lightly as he could. “I think that our wee guest is avoiding me. She hasnae spoken to me in days.”
Magnus stiffened. “That’s impolite. I’ll speak to her.”
“No need to do that.”
“No need? Me Laird, she cannae disrespect ye.”
“Ye misunderstand me. She’s nae disrespecting me. She’s just… avoiding me.”
Magnus clenched his jaw, obviously displeased. “Ye daenae have to put up with this, me Laird.”
“Well, I cannae exactly force her to speak to me.”
Magnus looked as though he disagreed.
“I’m surprised,” he said. “Elspeth is serving her and says that she is a decent woman, for all she’s English.”
“She’s nae bloody English, Magnus! Does she sound English to ye?”
Magnus shrugged, turning away and hefting his sword. Their audience had mostly dispersed by now. “Ye want to finish our sparring?”
“I’d better get ready,” Hunter sighed. “Me sister is visiting today.”
“Ah, I heard of that. And yer cousin?”
“Nay, Creighton isnae coming. Nora is with child, again. They thought it better to stay. Besides, most lairds cannae risk leaving their keeps too often. I’ll have to see him another time.”
Magnus shot him a long, careful look. “Will ye be introducing Lady Skye to Daphne?”
Hunter didn’t meet his eyes, focusing on twirling his sword instead.
“I daenae see why nae,” he said casually, as if it didn’t matter much.
Magnus nodded but said nothing.
Dusk had fallen by the time Skye’s carriage rolled up the road toward the keep.
The gates were locked, of course, but Hunter himself had stayed on guard, watching out for her.
He gave the command to open the gates, and several horsemen in Bryden tartan galloped into the courtyard.
The carriage came next, flanked by more armed men.
Hunter hurried down from his position on the wall, trying to swallow his excitement. Since Skye’s marriage, he’d hardly seen her. Her husband, Laird Bryden, was accompanying her, which made this visit more than a simple social call. No, it was a diplomatic visit now.
We cannae just have a normal family dinner, can we?
He reached the bottom of the winding stairs that led down from the wall and caught a glimpse of his mother standing by the castle door, beaming with excitement. He strode toward the carriage, and the door popped open just as he reached it.
A pale, elegant woman with crisp blue eyes and a mass of sleek dark hair poked her head out of the carriage. As soon as she caught sight of him, a smile split her face.
“Good day to ye, Brother.”
He crossed the space between them in several long strides and held up his arms to help her down. She neatly jumped down onto the paving and flung her arms around him.
“I’m so glad to see ye,” he whispered into her hair. “It was getting late, and I was afraid something had happened.”
“The journey’s nae to be sniffed at,” she responded, hugging him back. “I almost wanted to meet bandits or enemy soldiers, just to liven things up.”
He groaned. “God, daenae, lass.”
Laird Bryden clambered out of the carriage next. He was a tall, sturdy man. His black hair was pulled back from his face with a ribbon, but that didn’t quite stop it from falling into his eyes.
He met Hunter’s gaze and gave him a nod. “Hunter.”
“Evander,” Hunter acknowledged.
It seemed so long since their ‘bride swap’ treaty.
The idea was that warring clans would betroth members of their clan to each other for a year, to force them out of fighting.
The idea was that a laird would be more likely to uphold a peace treaty if his cousin or sister were betrothed to a laird he was thinking of fighting.
Creighton, Hunter’s cousin, had betrothed himself to a Bryden woman of Evander’s choice, and in turn, Evander had taken Creighton’s cousin—Skye.
It wasn’t supposed to be permanent. In fact, everybody had openly acknowledged that the betrothals wouldn’t end in marriage. They were just for looks, really, to make a point that the peace treaties meant something.
It hadn’t quite turned out that way.
“Did ye have a safe journey?” Hunter asked, escorting his sister and brother-in-law toward the castle.
Various MacCrimmon men and servants were taking care of their escort, showing the horsemen the way to the stables and then to their lodgings.
“Safe and boring,” Skye sighed. “But we’re here now. I’m glad to see ye, Brother.”
He nodded and said nothing, noticing how Skye and Evander held hands, as if it were the easiest and most natural thing in the world.
Never thought I’d see the day when me sister was in love.
They reached the main doors, and Helena came forward, beaming, and wrapped her arms around Skye.
“I have missed ye, lass,” she breathed. “It’s good to see ye, Evander. Yer rooms are all ready, and we’ve prepared a wee supper for ye. Ye must be hungry and thirsty, after all.”
“That I am, Mother.”
“Oh, and we have guests,” she added. “Do ye remember me talking about an English friend of mine, Lady Pilbury?”
Skye frowned. “Vaguely.”
“Well, she’s here! And her companion is here too. A lovely girl. I reckon ye will be friends.”
Skye sniffed, drawing her cloak tighter around herself. “Friends? We’ll see.”
What did that mean?
Hunter decided not to dig deeper.
They moved inside in a procession, Helena with her arms wound around Skye, talking nonstop, Evander and Hunter following behind.
“There seems to be peace between the clans for now,” Evander murmured, glancing at Hunter out of the corner of his eye. “There’s talk about ye, though.”
“About me?”
“Ye havenae named an heir.”
Hunter shot him a quick look.
Evander knew about the vow, of course. It was one of the reasons why Hunter wasn’t asked to partake in the bride-swapping part of the treaty. Try as he might, he couldn’t figure out what Evander was thinking.
Evander kept his gaze straight ahead. His voice stayed neutral, his face blank.
“I’ll name one,” Hunter declared. “Me man-at-arms, Magnus, is a trustworthy fellow. He kens how to run a clan. He—”
“He’s the same age as ye. Have ye missed the point of choosing someone to follow ye, lad? Ye need a proper heir.”
Hunter rounded on him. “Ye may have married me sister, but that doesnae give ye the right to meddle in me business. And daenae call me lad.”
Evander held his gaze for a moment, then lowered his eyes, nodding. “I didnae mean to upset ye,” he responded mildly.
Hunter bit back a sigh, shaking his head. “And I didnae mean to snap at ye. But this is me keep, Evander. I daenae need ye to cause trouble, talking about heirs.”
“Of course. But it’s something Skye is concerned about, too.”
“Then let Skye speak to me about it.”
Evander nodded again, and the two men made their way to the dining room.
Sure enough, Helena had a decent-looking spread set out on the smaller table. Bread, cheese, meats of all kinds—mostly cold—bowls of fruit, and of course, wine. Lady Pilbury sat in a chair at the head of the table, looking tired, and Daphne stood behind her.
At once, Daphne’s eyes met Hunter’s, as if she’d been waiting for him. She averted her gaze straight away, of course.
“This is Lady Pilbury,” Helena announced. “And this is Daphne and her wee daughter, Willow.”
“Daughter?” Skye echoed, frowning. “Where?”
On cue, a small, tangled mess of hair poked out from under the table. Willow beamed up at them, and River peered out under her chin.
Daphne reddened. “Willow! I am sorry, I told her to sit down.”
“Daenae worry,” Skye responded, pulling out a chair and plopping down onto it. “She’s a bairn, and we all ken what bairns are like. Lady Pilbury, it’s good to put a name to a face. Me mother speaks highly of ye.”
Lady Pilbury inclined her head. “She’s spoken often of you too, my dear. She adores you and your brother. As a mother myself, I understand the importance of having good, reliable children.”
Skye gave a faint smile. Then her gaze landed on Daphne. She paused, narrowing her eyes.
Hunter held his breath.
“Ye look familiar,” she murmured. “Are ye a Tulloch?”
Daphne stiffened. “I’d rather nae speak of me family more than I must.”
There was a moment of silence.
Skye tilted her head, obviously deciding how to respond. Eventually, she nodded. “I understand. Well, how are ye enjoying yer stay, then? Sit down, all of ye. I didnae travel this far to have ye all hovering around me in a nervous circle.”
Lady Pilbury chuckled. “I can tell that you are Helena’s daughter, my dear.”
Skye grinned wickedly. “Let’s eat.”
About an hour after they’d arrived, Skye announced that she and Evander would retire to bed. Lady Pilbury was already yawning, heavy-eyed with exhaustion, and Willow had been sent to bed too, her baby fox in tow.
Skye and Evander left, with Daphne trailing behind them. Hunter made to follow, but before he could, his sister seized his arm and towed him away.
“So, Daphne Tulloch, eh?” she breathed. “I ken her sister. Is she staying here for long?”
“I have nay idea.”
She shot him a pointed look. “She’s beautiful.”
“Is she? I’ve nae noticed,” he lied.
She stopped, narrowing her eyes at him. “What’s going on between ye two, then?”
He flinched. “Nothing. Nothing is going on between the two of us.”
She folded her arms and pursed her lips. “So ye say. Ye are a bad liar, Hunter. Ye always were.”
“Enough, lass.”
Sniffing, Skye turned away. “Well then, keep yer secret. I can see that ye are determined to keep it from me. Ye will tell me when ye are ready, I suppose. And ye can also explain why that wee lassie… What was her name? Willow, that was it. Ye can explain why she looks so much like ye.”
Hunter flinched. “Marriage and time away havenae blunted yer wit, Sister.”
She looped her arm through his and squeezed it with a grin. “I saved up all of it for ye, Brother.”
With a last grin, she skipped off through the hall to catch up with her husband.
Hunter watched her go, defeated.
I should have ken she would ferret it out as soon as she set foot in the keep. At least I ken that she will keep it a secret.
Helena tapped on the door, letting herself in before the knock had even faded. She knew that Edith was awake.
Sure enough, Edith sat in a chair by the fire, a warm brick by her feet, shawls and blankets tucked around her.
“Daphne insisted on seeing me settled before she went to bed herself,” Edith sighed. “I tell her over and over not to fuss over me. Elspeth takes good care of me, but no, Daphne wouldn’t rest until she’d seen the fire banked up and a hot brick brought to my feet to keep me warm.”
Helena puffed out a breath, dropping down on the chair opposite. Her feet ached, and her eyes were gritty and heavy. She was desperate to go to sleep, but there was business that needed sorting before that.
“Our wee plot to lock them in the library together didnae work,” she sighed. “And Hunter had some choice words for me. We’ll have to be careful next time.”
“I thought it was too abrupt to work.” Edith nodded. “Locking them in together is hardly proper. In England, a woman and man being in a room together alone would be ruined entirely. Well,” she corrected, “the lady would be ruined. Gentlemen have more robust reputations, I find.”
Helena grunted. “Well, they have a child together, so it’s a bit late for that. I’m nae giving up, though.”
“Nor am I,” Edith said. “Before I leave this world, I want to see Daphne well settled and happy, and Willow with a good father figure in her life. A fine lord—sorry, laird—like your son would be an excellent match.”
Helena chuckled. “Ye are very English about all this. But I agree with ye; we shouldnae give up. I have one last thing to try. I’ll be damned if I let two youngsters outwit two old foxes like us, eh, Edith?”
Edith cocked her head. “I’m ready to help, if I can. I’m not sure I fancy locking anyone else in a room, though.”
“Nay, it’ll be more subtle than that.” Helena leaned forward, catching her friend’s eye. “Listen up. Here is me plan.”