“You’re a brave woman to accept a handfast with a mon you barely know. There are risks to any woman marrying a mon she doesn’t know, but you’re placing your trust in me. I want to honor that. Your life is aboot to change in myriad ways. I would give you a few more moments of what you’re used to.”
Emelie tilted her head as a soft smile played across her lips. “Are you like this because you’re so auld?” She teased.
Dominic’s chuckle rumbled in the quiet passageway. “Mayhap I’ve had time to mature with age. Do you know, Laurel asks Brodie the same question? He’s eleven years her senior.”
Emelie attempted to stifle her giggle but failed. When Dominic cocked an eyebrow, she shook her head. Once she could speak, she explained, “I recently heardThe Merchant’s Tale. It’s part of Geoffrey Chaucer’s recent work,The Canterbury Tales.In that story, a mon name Januarie is quite auld when he finally marries. He’s sixty, and his bride named May is barely twenty.” Emelie’s smile dropped as she remembered the rest of the story.
“What happens?” Dominic prompted. He watched as Emelie swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. He waited for her to answer, but she couldn’t meet his eye.
“She’s unfaithful to him,” Emelie whispered. She closed her eyes before continuing. “I didn’t think aboot that part before I began speaking. I just thought of the difference in age since you’re aulder than me. I didn’t mean that I would be unfaithful.”
“Em, look at me,” Dominic murmured, his voice growing thick as he tried to ease Emelie’s chagrin. “I didna think that. And I already kenned. I’ve heard the tales, too. I wasna trying to trick ye. I just wanted to hear how ye would retell the story. There are some vera amusing parts.” He didn’t want to see Emelie distressed after hearing her lighthearted laughter. There would be plenty of time for seriousness ahead of them, when he arrived with a wife on his arm and Emelie found her place among his clan. “Would ye like to go back to yer chamber?”
“Yes, please.”
They walked together in silence until they arrived at Emelie’s door. She unlocked it, and they stepped inside. When Emelie turned around, she found her nose in Dominic’s chest. His hands rested lightly on her waist.
“Rather than I wake ye early,” Dominic’s brogue persisted now that he didn’t think about it. “We can always say ye returned here early because ye needed to dress for the day. I must meet with a mon tomorrow. Brodie is still smoothing things over with the MacMillans after the laird’s daughter died only days after marrying Brodie. The Lamonts attacked their entourage as Brodie rode to Kilchurn with her.”
Emelie’s brow furrowed as she learned details of her friend Laurel’s marriage that she’d never heard before. She supposed matters concerning Clan Campbell now concerned her. “He was a widower too?”
“Brodie never consummated the marriage because he couldnae stomach the idea of bedding his young bride. He said she was young enough to be his daughter. He’d returned the dowry in full. But the MacMillans still blame the Campbells rather than placing the blame where it belongs, with the Lamonts.”
“Why did he marry her if she was so young?” Emelie cut in. She’d said many prayers of thanksgiving that she hadn’t been a child bride.
“For the alliance. The MacMillans’ territory lies between two portions of Campbell land. It would have secured our access to a waterway. Brodie intended to wait at least two years before he even considered touching her. The only reason anyone called it a marriage was because they swore their vows on the kirk steps. It was more of a betrothal. We also needed a chatelaine.”
“What aboot—” Emelie snapped her mouth shut, recalling Brodie already said Colina hadn’t taken to the role. She didn’t want to remind him of something that brought him pain.
“It’s all right.” Dominic squeezed her waist. “Anyway, I must meet with the MacMillan delegate and see if I can calm them enough to keep us on good terms. That will probably take most of the afternoon, and I can spend the morning in the lists. That will give ye the day with yer sister.”
Emelie was torn once more. She was grateful for the time to say goodbye to Blythe, but she enjoyed their morning walks. She looked forward to it. “Would you attend Mass with me?” Emelie asked.
“Of course. I look forward to sitting beside ye. Em, I am nae shunning ye. I hope ye ken that.”
“I do. I just fear what people will think if they don’t see us together the day after we supposedly handfasted.”
“King Robert never said when the handfast took place. It could have been yesterday or a fortnight ago. People have seen us together every day since I returned. If anyone asks, ye’ve spent every night with me, but we chose discretion rather than flaunting our relationship. We made it known because of our imminent departure together.”
“You have an answer to everything.”
“I’ve considered this several times. We owe nay one the full story—whatever we decide that is—so dinna feel pressured into telling more than ye need to.”
Emelie’s laugh was hollow. “You have spent little time at court after all. Every lady-in-waiting feels pressure in one way or another. It’s not an unusual feeling.”
“That doesnae mean it has to continue now that ye’re married,” Dominic reasoned. He brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek before pressing a light kiss to her lips. They hadn’t had a passionate kiss since their interlude in the alcove earlier that day. Emelie was growing frustrated at the sudden distance Dominic put between them. She feared he regretted his impetuous decision and missed his actual wife. She nodded before pressing her own kiss to his mouth. She tried to deepen it, and Dominic groaned. He crushed her against him as he opened his mouth to her tongue. But it was all over sooner than Emelie expected. Dominic took a step back. “I should go now before the ladies retire and someone sees me here.”
“Goodnight, Dom.”
“Goodnight, Em. I will find ye before Mass. I promise.” With one more quick peck to her nose, Dominic was gone.
Six
Dominic met Emelie for Mass the morning following the announcement of their handfast. He accompanied her to the morning meal, where she sat among Dominic and his men. She joined him for the midday and evening meal as well, but she spent the time in between with Blythe. She realized how fortunate she was that Dominic offered her this opportunity. Saying goodbye proved even more challenging than she expected. He took her back to her old chamber for their last night in Stirling, where she drafted a missive to her parents with Blythe’s help. Blythe promised to send it with a messenger in the morning. Just as they had the night before, the sisters climbed into bed together. They reminisced about their childhood and time spent at court. They also discussed the challenges they expected Emelie to face, both as a mother and as someone with a grave secret.
Blythe admitted she stared at Emelie and Dominic every time they were together, and her new brother-by-marriage impressed her. She had no reason to doubt his sincerity, since she noticed slight gestures he made that likely no one else noticed. Blythe was confident they were genuine and not for show. It eased her worry as yet another older sister left for the unknown. Isabella and her husband, Dedric, had returned to Dunbar land shortly after they married. But as politics shifted they took the opportunity to move to the northern Highlands, far from the border. They now lived among the Sinclairs, and Dedric was one of Laird Sinclair’s senior guardsmen and a close friend to the four Sinclair brothers.
As they stood together in the bailey, the Campbell guards surrounding them with stomping horses, Blythe engulfed Emelie in her embrace. She’d often teased Emelie that she was the big sister, since she was nearly half a head taller than her next-older sister. Emelie returned the hug and whispered, “If you ever need to leave court for any reason and you can’t go home, come to me. If I need to, I’ll get you to Isa and Ric. Don’t think twice. Send for Dom or find a way to Kilchurn. I hate leaving you behind.”
