Chapter Twenty-Two
Aleysia ran her hands down her emerald green silk kirtle. The snug fit accentuated her bosom, small waist, and hips. She had a wee bit of enticing to do.
“Now remember,” Mattie said, holding up her matching overgown. “Use caution around candles with these flaring sleeves.”
“I will try to remember,” Aleysia promised, stepping into the overgown as if it were a coat. It did not close all the way around and there was no train. They were too cumbersome. “Though ’tis difficult to think when I am around him.”
Mattie’s smile was every bit as dreamy as Aleysia’s when they faced each other in the candlelit solar. “He is very handsome. He reminds me of an older, harder version of William.”
Aye, there were times when William reminded her of Cainnech, in a certain way he turned his head, when he practiced with the others and the sunlight caught a glint of death and destruction in his eyes.
Something else about him tugged at her memory, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Poor William, and poor Mattie for being so enchanted by him.
“Oh, Mattie, how many times must I tell you?” she said as gently as she could. “William is in love with Julianna Feathers. She broke his heart yesterday. I fear ’tis going to take some time for him to forget her.” She didn’t tell her friend that she’d heard William tell his beloved that he would never love another.
“How much time do we have, Aleysia?” her friend asked with wide, worried blue eyes.
“I do not know,” she answered truthfully.
“Well, until then,” Mattie replied, back to smiling as she reached for a wide, gold embroidered belt. “I will not give up. If you could win the commander’s heart, then I can win William’s.”
“The commander is fond of me, Mattie,” she said, sucking in air when her friend wrapped the belt around her waist and yanked on the laces in the back. “But I am far from winning his heart.”
She couldn’t believe that she wanted to win it. She wasn’t sure she could. Or that she should. She might be betraying her brother, but she hadn’t seen Giles in years. It was the villagers and her knights that concerned her. What if they all reacted the way Elizabeth had?
And what if there was nothing to react to? The Highland commander hadn’t proclaimed his love for her. If she couldn’t break through his defenses completely, he would leave and she would never see him again. And he would take William with him.
She thought about these things while she combed her own hair. She left it free to fall in a cascade down her back.
She might not have much time to convince him. Of what? To stay? To defy how circumstances would have them feel and give in to something greater?
“Hmm,” Mattie said thoughtfully. “Which circlet should you wear tonight?”
“The gold with the emerald-encrusted glass,” Aleysia decided. “But I can do the rest myself. Go and prepare yourself in the gown I gave you. We will tell the men that we raided Lady de Bar’s trunks. You might not be able to win William’s poor heart yet, but you can look pleasing to the eye while you are practicing.”
They both giggled and then Aleysia watched her leave the solar. She was thankful that Mattie understood what she was feeling and didn’t hate her for it.
She placed her circlet on her head and adjusted it. Oh, was she wrong for caring for him? What was she to do about it if she was? She hadn’t seen him since they’d returned from the abbey and she missed being with him, hearing his voice, seeing him try not to smile and fail.
She hurried into her slippers and left the solar. She met Father Timothy on the way to the great hall.
“Ah, I was just on my way to yer door.” He greeted her with his usual kind smile. “Cainnech grows impatient fer ye in the great hall. When he sees ye, he will understand the delay. Ye look lovely, my dear.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and accepted his arm.
“It pleases my heart to see this change in Cainnech,” he remarked as they walked. “He returned from huntin’ this morn smilin’.”
“It pleases me, as well,” she admitted. How much should she tell the priest? He knew Cainnech better than anyone else. Perhaps he could help her reach his friend. “I do not hate him anymore.”
His smile softened. “I know.”
“In fact, I am coming to care for him.”
“Are ye?” He didn’t look surprised.
A thought occurred to her and she offered him a frantic look. “You do not think he knows, do you?”
He shook his head and patted her hand. “I can assure ye, my dear, he is completely unaware.”
“How do you know? What has he said?”
“Nothin’. But that is not unusual,” he muttered and then waved his hand in front of him as if he were trying to scatter those thoughts and get back on topic. “I know because he knows so little of love.”
“Has he…never loved a woman before?” she asked hesitantly.
“Nae. Nor has he been loved by one.”
She thought it remarkable, but then remembered that he spent most of his time fighting for Robert the Bruce—which he would likely be getting back to soon.
“I confess, Father, I do not know if I have time to help him battle his hatred.”
He stopped and set his lambent eyes on her. “My dear, the battle he fights is not hatred, ’tis love.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed and began walking slowly again. “’Twas hatred that took his kin from his life. But ’twas love that drove them from his memory, and the pain of love that came closest to making him lose his mind. He made himself ferget his family so that he could survive the life he had withoot them. He hasna loved, or even attempted to love anyone in the years I have known him. In fact, my dear, ’tis the only thing that frightens him.”
This was a whole new battle. Aleysia wasn’t sure she was prepared for it. “He loves you,” she argued hollowly.
A wistful shadow passed over his gaze. “As much as he is able, I imagine.”
Her heart thundered in her chest. What if he could never love, or if he continued to deny it? Why was she wasting her time? No, she couldn’t give up on him. It was too late for that. She cared for him. Besides, she’d never fled from a challenge before. She wouldn’t begin now. “Do you truly think I can break through all those defenses, Father?”
“Ye are the only lass I know with the courage to try.”
Aye. He was correct. He—
“Priest!” Cainnech stood at the other end of the corridor, blocking the torchlight. “Did I ask ye to fetch Aleysia or delay her?”
Aleysia widened her eyes on him and tightened her lips. How dare he bark at Father Timothy and treat her like a favored pet?
She straightened her circlet, pinched her silk skirts above her ankles, and strode toward him. “Just exactly who do you think you are?” He didn’t look like he was going to answer quickly enough, so she continued. “The next time you want me, come to me yourself. Or better yet,” she said, reaching him and tilting her head to look into his eyes, “learn to wait. I will not be rushed to please you.”
“Fergive me. What?” He blinked his gaze away from her snug gown and then seemed to catch his breath when he looked into her eyes.
He was utterly serious. He hadn’t heard a word she’d said. She wasn’t back to hating him for it just yet though. She had wanted to entice him, after all. He certainly looked enticed.
“Apologize to Father Timothy!” she demanded and waited for him to step aside and let her pass.
He moved out of her way and she proceeded toward the great hall. “Truthfully, Cainnech,” she said over her shoulder as she came to the small stairway, “just when I think you are not so irritating, you go and shout at a man of God.”
She felt his eyes on her like a wolf that had just spotted its mate. And then he was there, behind her, bending his nose to the hair at the nape of her neck.
“Ye look ravishin’.” His voice was a deep-throated growl that made her knees nearly give out.
“What about your clear head?”
“I have already lost it.”
He stepped around her like liquid smoke. His eyes danced over her features in facets of blue and gray. “Ye are goin’ to gain much attention when ye go in there.”
“Oh?” she asked lightly, hoping it drove him mad. “Will it make you uncomfortable?”
He laughed, startling Farther Timothy behind them. “Why would it?”
“Why would you mention it?”
“To prepare ye.”
She walked up the steps and turned to stop him with a smile. “I’m already prepared. If any unwanted hands come near me tonight, I shall cut them off.”
He slanted his sensual mouth into a challenging half-smile. “With what, lass? Yer sharp tongue?”
She leaned down so he could hear her when she whispered, “A dagger. I found a few that your men missed in their search.”
His smile widened, his gaze roved over her boldly. “Where d’ye have it hidden, Aleysia? I see no imperfection.”
She didn’t answer but led the way into the great hall, letting him take his fill behind her. As she walked to her table, she paused to look around the crowded hall. She liked the ribaldry of the men, the sounds of their laughter and swearing, the clanking of their cups. There was wine, thanks to Rauf who purchased six jugs on the way home from Newton on the Moor.
He stood with William by the table. When they saw her they stared and smiled, along with the others, but all the men remained respectful as she sat on the bench.
She looked for Richard but didn’t see him.
Cainnech slid in beside her, and Father Timothy took his place to the right. Soon, the rest of the men joined them at the tables and shouted for the food to be served. They all came to a spluttering halt for the second time that night when Mattie stepped into the hall on the arm of Sir Richard. Why, even William, sitting at Aleysia’s left, turned to have an appreciative look.
Aleysia’s gown fit her dear friend perfectly. She looked breathtaking in a yellow kirtle beneath a lovely saffron overgown embroidered with a thin vine of small golden leaves around the scooping neckline and elbow-length sleeves. Tiny yellow flowers were entwined into her thick, flaxen braid draping one shoulder.
“Who gives yer friend wings?” Cainnech leaned in to ask her.
“William,” she answered on a wilting whisper.
“And that troubles ye because he’s a Scot?”
She shook her head and eyed him, wondering if he truly thought her so double-minded that she would begrudge her friend the same thing she wanted. But, according to Father Timothy, Cainnech didn’t know she cared for him. Should she tell him? No, she thought, let him discover it on his own.
“It troubles me because his heart is lost to Julianna,” she corrected him on a hushed voice, and then watched the men stand when Mattie reached their table.
“I think,” he said, raising his cup to her and then to Mattie, “the two most bonny lasses in the three kingdoms reside at Lismoor.”
The men agreed, but William had already gone back to his cup.
“You see?” Aleysia asked, turning to Cainnech. “There is beauty in no one else when your heart loves another.”
“Pah! What drivel!” He laughed, bringing his cup to his lips. “Love doesna last. Sadly, he, too, was taught its cruel lesson.”
His battle was with love. He hated it, rejected it, and was afraid of it. How in blazes was she to fight this? She was confident in many things, but not this.
She crooked her finger at him and when he came close, she whispered, “The cruelty was not love, Cainnech. ’Twas a heart tainted by prejudice. True love lasts. You cannot hide from it forever. You know that.”
He put down his cup and stared at her. She had no idea what he was about to say but he didn’t look pleased.
“Commander.” Amish hurried into the hall with a folded parchment held high in his hand. “A messenger arrives from the king!”
Cainnech stood up and waited while a tall man dressed in dark clothes and mantle entered behind his second.
Aleysia thought she could hear his heart pounding, but realized soon that it was her own.
Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good news for her if it was from the Scottish king.
The messenger reached Cainnech and greeted him with a familiar smile. Cainnech did not smile back.
Unfazed by the commander’s aloof regard, the messenger reached under his cloak and produced a folded missive stamped with a royal seal. “From the hand of the king of the Scots, Robert the Bruce to ye, Commander MacPherson.”
Cainnech took the letter and offered the man a place at one of the other tables. The messenger declined with good reason. His wife was at home ready to have his second child.
After he left, Cainnech broke the seal and opened the parchment. He read silently for a moment, and then glanced at her with a scowl that made her want to demand to know what it said.
“Is it about Lismoor?” She couldn’t wait another moment.
“Let us go somewhere else to—”
“No.” She shook her head. “You will tell me now, please.”
He looked as if he might refuse or tear off someone’s head. Finally, he said in a lowered voice. “The king advises that ye are to be wed.”
“To whom?” she heard herself say, her blood beginning to sizzle in her veins.
“To one of the English noblemen who have already sworn loyalty to him. He has taken it upon himself to invite them here to…court ye. Once ye are wed, yer husband will be rewarded with Lismoor.”
Wed? Her home was to be a reward to an English traitor? “Do you think I will abide by your king’s rule?” she asked acidly.
Cainnech didn’t answer but crumpled the parchment into a ball and flung it into the hearth. He rose from his chair and stormed out of the great hall.