Chapter Twenty-One
Betrayal and fury hazing her mind, the chair scraped as Alesone shoved to her feet. “What!”
“Please—” Coughs wracked the elderly maid’s body as she struggled for a breath.
Nicholai stepped over and laid his hand on Alesone’s shoulder. “Let her finish. Please.”
Outrage blurred Alesone’s mind at the falsehood she’d believed her entire life, at the shame she’d endured for having been branded as a bastard when the entire time it had been a lie. She gave a curt nod, wanting to scream at the injustice.
Through broken whispers and several fits of coughing, the elder explained how Alesone’s mother had become pregnant shortly before her husband had departed for a crusade, and so he’d never known.”
“My father never knew I was his child?” Alesone whispered.
The elder shook her head. “Nay. You are of noble birth. At the time, Lord Comyn had worried over your father’s growing influence and the respect he held among the nobles. Fearful of his growing power, Comyn wanted to destroy him. Aware your father was a man of pride, one who loved his wife deeply, Comyn devised a plan to shame your mother and destroy their marriage, and in the end, your father.”
Stunned, Alesone listened, thankful as Thomas gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “After you were born, your mother had a tragic accident, fell, and died. Because you were born late, more than nine months after your father departed, Comyn caused vicious rumors to spread that in secret he and your mother had become lovers, and ashamed of her infidelity, she’d committed suicide.”
“’Tis all a lie,” Alesone whispered, embracing the words as joy poured through her, cleansing her soul.
“Aye,” the maid whispered. “I wanted to tell you, but terrified of the threat to my family I remained silent. When your father returned three years later to find his wife dead, he was told that you had been born too late for him to have been your father. Hearing rumors of your mother’s unfaithfulness with a man he’d once considered a friend, he confronted Comyn. A bitter row ensued. No one knew what exact words were passed, but furious, your father cursed Comyn as he strode from his keep, took his belongings, and left.”
Left believing his daughter was a bastard. Alesone swallowed hard. All these years, weighted beneath the shame of her mother’s actions, she’d learned naught of her birthright except the pittance that her father was a noble. Now to discover that she was legitimate, she yearned to know more about her father. Had he remarried? Did she have half brothers or sisters out there?
Alesone braced herself. “Who is he?”
Sadness weighted the elder’s gaze. “Petrus Buchan, Earl of Kinlock.”
“Nae Alesone MacNiven, but Buchan.” Warmth filled her as the name sifted through her mind, and then she gasped.
“What is wrong?” Thomas asked.
“The noble with the Bruce the night he called us to his tent was the Earl of Kinlock.” Except her father didna know the truth. When he learned his wife had remained faithful, would he want Alesone? Unsure of anything, she swallowed hard. “Where is he?”
“Hopefully en route,” the elder replied. “With Brother Nicholai’s help, I have sent him a missive explaining everything, including where you are. I canna tell you how each day I regretted you nae knowing, despised myself for how you were shunned.”
“Which is why you visited me often during my youth.”
“Aye, and because I loved you.” Tenderness warmed her face. “You have the look of your mother, and the spirit of your father. I know when he meets you, he will be so proud of you. I—” Her body began to tremble, and she again began to cough.
Alesone caught the elder’s hand.
“Forgive me,” the elder whispered, “please.”
Tears rolled down Alesone’s cheeks. “I do.”
Relief sifted in the woman’s eyes, and she smiled, slowly, until her entire face settled into a wash of peace. “I thank you.” Her eyes turned toward the cross on the wall, and she gave one last exhale.
A sob tore through Alesone, and Thomas drew her against his chest.
With quiet steps, Nicholai walked over and closed the elder’s eyes. “I will ensure she receives a proper burial.”
Emotions storming her, Alesone met his gaze. “I want to be there. She deserves to be honored. Burunild was as tormented by Comyn’s treachery as I.”
The monk nodded. “Word will be sent when all is prepared.”
Outside the chamber, Alesone shook her head. “All this time ’twas naught but a lie.” She stilled. “God in heaven!”
“What?” Thomas asked.
A weight lifted off her soul as joy swept through her. “With her confession, I am free. Lord Comyn canna use me to barter with France’s king, and,” she said with satisfaction, “willna King Philip be furious when he learns the truth?”
Thomas grinned. “Bruce will ensure the news reaches France’s sovereign.”
“And,” she said, her voice rough, “I have a father, one of whom I can be proud.”
“Once the Earl of Kinlock reads the missive, he will come.” Thomas drew her to him. “I was wanting to marry you posthaste. Now we will wait until your father arrives and can give his beautiful daughter away.”
* * *
“And do you, Thomas MacKelloch, Earl of Kincaid, take Alesone Elyne Buchan to be your lawful wedded wife?” Nicholai asked.
Love filled Thomas as he looked at the woman whom he loved with all his heart. “I do.” Cheers rose within the great hall as he sealed his vow with a kiss. Amidst the roar of approval, he and Alesone turned toward the crowd and drew.
“May I present my wife, Lady Alesone MacKelloch,” Thomas announced.
Yells of approval again filled the chamber, and well-wishers rushed forward to offer their congratulations.
The Earl of Kinlock stepped before his daughter. “The eve I saw you at the Bruce’s encampment, you looked so familiar. Now I understand why.” A tender smile touched his mouth. “You resemble your beautiful mother. King Robert said you were an extraordinary woman, and I am anxious to learn more. There is so much to discuss, so much time to make up, but nae on your wedding day.”
Alesone sniffed. “I look forward to getting to know you as well. My humble thanks for being here to give me away.”
“I wouldna have missed this day, and I wish you every happiness.” Her father’s assessing gaze cut to Thomas. “Our king speaks of you with high praise, a fact that bodes well in my eyes. But, if you make my daughter unhappy, ’twill be me you answer to.”
“I swear that I will cherish her always.” Nor would he mention that Alesone needed little aid holding her own. “You are always welcome within our home.”
Satisfaction glinted in his eyes as the earl stepped back, and the crowd of well-wishers rushed forward with congratulations.
* * *
A short while later, Thomas stood with his Templar warriors, still stunned by his father’s gift of his mother’s book of drawings and stories. He would cherish it always. He downed the last of his wine.
“I am happy for you, Thomas,” Aiden MacConnell said. “Alesone is a beautiful lass, but a woman and a family are nae my desire. I prefer the life of a warrior.”
Cailin scoffed. “One day, Aiden, you may meet a lass who will turn your head.”
“After the battles I have fought,” Aiden scoffed, “I doubt one simple lass will ever present a challenge.”
A smile touched Stephan MacQuistan’s eyes as he glanced at Thomas.
Thomas returned his friend’s grin, remembering how months ago when they’d fled France he’d believed the same. Then he, as Stephan, had found love. His gazed shifted to Alesone, and warmth filled him. Aye he’d enjoyed celebrating with friends, but hours had passed since he’d made love to his beautiful wife, and he’d wait nay longer. “I will see you in the morn.”
“As if you will get any sleep,” Aiden teased.
Thomas winked. “I didna say that I had planned to rest.”
His men laughed, but Thomas ignored them and focused on the woman he loved, the woman who would forever hold his heart. He wove through the throng, and pulled her against him. “Come away with me,” he whispered in her ear. “I want to run my tongue over every naked inch of you.”
A wicked sensual light shimmered in her eyes. “I think turnaround is fair play,” she replied, her voice low, “except this time when I take you in my mouth, I willna show mercy.”
The air left him in a rush as his body went up in flames. He tugged her with him and hurried toward the turret. “I am counting on it.”
With a laugh, she bolted up the steps. Thomas followed, thankful for this woman in his life, one he adored, and one he would love forever.