The earl shook his head. “I am not here to bargain with you, Tavis. ’Tis too late for talk of treaties and peace. The war between you has gone on for too long. Alexander is impatient to bring peace to the highlands, and this blood feud between your clans is a threat to the stability Alexander wants. I may not agree with his methods, but he has my full support. He sent me to bear witness to the marriage and give official report upon my return. I’m to give his order and blessing upon the ceremony and bear with me the letter having his royal seal and the official declaration of the union.”
“She is doomed,” Tavis whispered.
“I believe Graeme Montgomery to be a fair and just man,” the earl said carefully. “I do not think he would be cruel to your daughter for vengeance’s sake.”
In all his years, Tavis had never felt so helpless. As he lifted his gaze, he saw his wife standing across the great hall, her grief a living, breathing thing in the room.
But she hid it well as she crisply walked forward. She’d dressed her best in deference to the earl’s visit and only Tavis’s keen eye could detect the turmoil that simmered just beneath the surface of her careful composure.
He and the earl both rose as Robina drew nigh.
“My lady,” the earl said smoothly, lifting her hand to press a kiss to its back. “ ’Tis been many years since we last met and I vow you’ve grown more beautiful than you were even then.”
Robina smiled graciously, but it didn’t reach to her eyes. “You’re too kind, my lord. You do us an honor by attending the wedding of our daughter. I do hope you’ll find your accommodations to your liking. If there’s anything you require, please make me aware of it and it will be provided at once.”
Tavis hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until his chest began to burn in protest. He hadn’t been certain that Robina wouldn’t have planted a dagger in the earl’s heart if she thought it would save her daughter.
Robina was outspoken, strong willed, and he loved her with every part of his warrior’s heart. If she’d been a man, she would be the fiercest in all of Scotland.
Many a man wouldn’t tolerate her quickness to speak her mind or that she matched his strength with her own. They’d want to subjugate her. Make her weak and stamp out the very thing that made her so very special.
Robina was no meek lass and for that Tavis gave thanks on a daily basis. She was his and he’d offer no apology on her behalf. He loved her just the way she was.
But then he began to worry. Because Robina was being too nice and too accommodating. Her smile made him nervous. Was she plotting to poison the earl’s drink? Or perhaps she’d slip a dirk between his ribs when she escorted him to his chamber. Either was possible, for Robina was ferocious when it came to her children.
“I’ll show the earl to his chambers,” Tavis said, before Robina could extend the offer. “Have food and drink delivered to him so that he may rest from his journey.”
Before he could guide the earl toward the stairwell, one of the tower guards burst into the great hall. He came up short when he saw the earl standing next to Tavis, and then he inclined his head in a respectful bow.
“Laird, a Montgomery messenger has arrived bearing news that the chieftain and his accompanying men will arrive by nightfall.”
Robina’s lips tightened, but to her credit, she remained silent even as her hands were fisted into knots at her side.
The earl lifted one eyebrow and regarded Tavis in amusement. “One might gain the idea that Graeme Montgomery is eager to claim his bride.”
Tavis’s gut rolled into a knot, disgusted by the mere thought of his daughter in the hands of the Montgomerys. He exchanged a look of sorrow with his wife because it was becoming increasingly clear that there was nothing short of declaring war and betraying their king that they could do, and to do so would mean the deaths of their entire clan.
Their beloved daughter or the lives of every single kinsman who depended on them for protection.
It was a choice no man should ever have to make.
CHAPTER 5
Eveline sat atop the rise that overlooked the front of the keep and watched as the impressive line of Montgomery soldiers proceeded on horseback toward the drawbridge.
She wondered if her father would give them all admittance or make the majority of the warriors remain outside the walls of the keep. But then Graeme Montgomery might well never agree to place himself in the vulnerable position of entering his enemy’s lair with only a few of his men for protection.
She searched the front of the line with her gaze, straining to see the man who would be her husband. They all looked massive to her and were interchangeable in their armor, holding shields, some with swords drawn.
It didn’t look like a wedding party. It looked like a prelude to war.
She shivered and hugged herself tightly, hunching down farther, hoping she wouldn’t be seen. Her mother would be looking for her. As would her brothers. She’d purposely not gone to her usual haunt because Brodie would have already been sent to fetch her. Instead she’d chosen this spot because it afforded her a view … of her future.
There were three men who separated themselves from the line of horses, riding forward, and one tilted his head up as if he were bellowing to the watchman. Eveline wished she could hear. It must be an impressive sound coming from a man so large in stature. It likely scared the wits out of anyone in hearing distance.
A few of the horses behind the man shied and had to be quickly calmed by their riders.
She leaned her chin on her knees and continued to stare as the drawbridge was slowly lowered.
Her husband.
He was here to take her away from everything she knew and loved. This was the one place she felt safe and protected. Cherished by her family, indulged by her clan.
But hadn’t she once longed for a normal life? A new adventure? To see something outside the walls of her keep? She hadn’t ventured beyond the Armstrong borders in her entire lifetime.
There had been a time she’d welcomed her betrothal to Ian McHugh. She’d been flushed with excitement and filled with dreams of a husband, children, her own keep to run. Oh, she’d planned it all. Visits back to her family. They would travel to her husband’s holding for the birth of her first child. There would be much rejoicing and happiness.
But that fantasy had quickly evaporated the moment Ian had made known his intentions toward her. Her dreams had been replaced by a nightmare she’d feared never escaping.
She hated hiding here, behind her father and mother and even her brothers. Allowing others to think she was less than she was. But what she most hated was having to give up that dream. And now? It seemed regardless of all she’d done to ensure that she’d always remain safely hidden away on her father’s land, the day had arrived when she’d be forced to venture beyond their borders to a new life.
This certainly wouldn’t have been the way she envisioned ever broadening her horizons, but she didn’t have a choice. Shouldn’t she try to make the best of a bad situation?
Her mother was distraught. Her father was grim and worried and in a mood so foul, no one dared disturb him unless it was of utmost importance. Even her brothers were short-tempered. It was as if a black cloud had descended on the keep, and ever since the message had been received that the Montgomerys would arrive before nightfall, the keep had been in a flurry of activity.
Eveline had escaped unnoticed, but they would be looking for her even now. Perhaps to hide her. Perhaps to present her to the man who would be her husband.
She’d watched enough lips to know that with the earl in residence, any act of disobedience regarding the royal decree would be considered an act of war against the king.
Finished with her perusal of the Montgomery clan, she reclined on the ground, closing her eyes briefly against the wash of sunshine. When she reopened them, she focused on the blue of the sky and the softly drifting clouds.
Here she could escape for just a little while, silence surrounding her, but in the deep recesses of her mind, she could conjure the memory of what music sounded like, and as she stared at the yawning blue canvas above her, she could swear that music danced through her ears.
“Look up the hill, to your right,” Teague said sharply.
Graeme yanked his head up and then focused in the distance where Teague directed as the drawbridge slowly began to grind its way down.
He almost missed the slight figure and then when his gaze swept back over it again, he frowned and turned back to his brother, wondering why on earth Teague would have called his attention to it.
“Is that a person?” Teague demanded. “What’s he doing up there alone on the hill?”
“Afraid she’s going to come down here and knock you off your horse?” Bowen drawled.
“She?” Teague said in disbelief.
“ ’Tis a lass,” Bowen said, nodding his head in the direction of the distant yellowish blob.
Graeme strained forward again. “How can you tell at this distance?”
Bowen gave them both mocking glances and then shook his head in dismay. “Think you any men run around in yellow dresses?”
Teague lifted his eyebrow. “Well, ’tis the Armstrongs, so I suppose anything could be possible.”
The men around them laughed, and then the drawbridge hit the ground with a thump, stirring up dust around the horses. When Graeme glanced up the hill again, he could no longer see the girl. How had she disappeared so quickly?
He urged his horse ahead, focusing his attention forward, ready for the impending confrontation. It was the truth he’d rather face battle outnumbered three to one than have to go meekly into the Armstrong keep and join himself to this clan in marriage.
It appalled him on every level. His da would be turning over in his grave. It was a dark day for Montgomerys everywhere and it would be a day long remembered in their history. If he had his way, the entire event would be stricken from any oral or written accounts henceforth.
But of course he couldn’t very well do something so permanent with a wife. As tempting as it may be.
He rode into the courtyard to see Tavis Armstrong standing beside the Earl of Dunbar. Graeme wasn’t startled to see the king’s man there, though he’d honestly expected the king himself to attend since this was of such importance to him.
Graeme reined in and sat astride his horse, staring down at the chieftain of the Armstrong clan. Tavis stared back, and then beside him appeared his two sons, though Graeme didn’t know which was which. The last time he’d encountered the Armstrong whelps, he’d sent them packing after a brief skirmish in the dead zone—the small plot of land that lay between the Montgomery and Armstrong borders. It belonged to the McAlpins, but they’d long since abandoned it due to the proximity to the warring clans. It was a tiny sliver of land, a mere fingerling of their holding, and it was no big thing to keep to the south and away from the feud.
Tavis flinched first, a fact that brought Graeme satisfaction. He’d take a victory no matter how insignificant. He might have been forced to venture meekly onto Armstrong land, but he damn sure wouldn’t allow any Armstrong to intimidate him.
Tavis took a step forward, cleared his throat, and said, “Welcome to our keep, Laird Montgomery. You and your brothers are welcome inside. Your men will find accommodations in the outer perimeter where tents have been erected for their use. Food and drink will be provided for all.”
For a moment, Graeme didn’t speak. Then he glanced to his brothers and gave the signal to dismount. Graeme swung himself over his horse and dropped down.
Tavis motioned several of his men to take the horses and lead them to shelter in the stables.
And there they stood. Montgomery warriors face-to-face with Armstrong warriors. They bristled with dislike. The Armstrongs looked as though they’d just welcomed the devil into their sanctuary and well, maybe they had.
Such a thing had never been accomplished in the history of their clans. Never had they stood so close without swords drawn and much blood shed. Graeme’s hand itched for wanting to grip his sword, and his throat ached from wanting to bellow a war cry.
“I do not like this,” Tavis said quietly, his voice steady with a thread of steel. “As God is my witness, there is no part of me that agrees to this madness.”
Graeme nodded, appreciating the older man’s candor. When he spoke, he was just as blunt. “I don’t like it any more than you.”
“You sacrifice nothing,” Tavis bit out. “There is nothing for you to dislike. You walk away with my daughter and you give up nothing in return.”
Graeme lifted an eyebrow as anger crept up his nape, seizing the back of his skull. He had to work to keep from losing his temper. It took all he had not to lunge for the other man. All he could see was his da’s face and stare at the man whose father was responsible for murdering his da.
“Think you I do not? I am saddled with a defective wife, one who will never bear me heirs. I give up much. I give up everything.”
