“She has. But she couldn’t manage the farm alone, and once her mother marries, it becomes the Norseman’s property. She would have nowhere to live and no means to support herself. I wouldn’t let her work here, and she would never agree to do so.”
Liam watched Elene take a seat with a nearly adolescent girl and boy, who he guessed were the siblings he’d heard mentioned. He watched as she passed food to both before she served herself. She laughed with the surrounding people, but her eyes darted to the dais several times. But she never looked at Liam; she only watched Androw. It still made him wonder about their relationship.
“You can stop trying to guess. Yes, she’s beautiful, but so is my wife. Elene is family, not a woman I would bed.” Liam swallowed, nearly choking, not appreciating that his thoughts were so obvious. “You needn’t fear. If I hadn’t known your father since we were lads, I wouldn’t read your expressions so easily. You have your mother’s keen mind, but you think just like your father did when he courted your mother. I made a brief visit for just a couple of days while your Sinclair family was still at Castle Varrich before your parents’ marriage. I was there two days, but it was obvious how attracted your parents were to one another. Your face resembles your father’s, especially since you watch Elene the same way your father watches your mother. I doubt you’d want to hear this, but Elene and Mairghread are very similar.”
Liam scowled. Androw was right. Liam didn’t want to think of his mother when he thought of a woman who made his rod thicken. He’d made the fleeting comparison when he first saw Elene, and he knew Androw was right after how he watched Elene converse with her mother. She’d been succinct and forceful while remaining calm, though her flushed cheeks spoke of her anger.
“Then she is a woman to be admired.” Liam raised his mug to his lips, then paused. “From afar.”
“That’s likely for the best. Gunter Haakonsson isn’t a man known to forgive anyone he believes is encroaching upon his trade. If he learns of your interest, or worse, Elene’s interest, he will seek her and punish her.”
“Was she right when she told her mother that Gunter intends to sell her?” Liam fought to keep his voice level as he grew anxious. When Androw didn’t respond immediately, Liam’s piercing gaze bore into the chieftain. His anxiety rapidly morphed into anger, both at the faceless Norseman and his family’s friend.
“I suspect he might. The slave trade is uncommon these days, but Gunter acts like a slighted lover where Elene is concerned. I think he was interested in her, but she rejected him. Now he is after her mother for spite. Selling her as a bed slave to some other Norseman is the type of revenge he would seek.”
“And there is naught you can do?” Liam sounded incredulous.
“Ever since Gunter showed an interest in her, then made clear his intent to marry Inburgh, no man has dared come near her. No family will take her as a servant.”
“Can’t you protect your people from him if they did?”
Androw turned a warning glare on the younger man, not appreciating the insinuation that he couldn’t control what happened in his village, that he was at the whim of a Norseman.
“Until your grandfather officially becomes the Earl of Orkney, I am still beholden to the Norse and pay fealty to them. Gunter is the king’s younger brother.”
Liam sat back in his chair, suddenly understanding the gravity of Elene’s situation and the precarious position in which it placed Androw. He could understand a prince’s interest in Elene. She was beautiful, clearly intelligent, well spoken, and appeared strong enough to survive childbirth. The only reason for the Norseman to take an interest in a middle-aged woman with three children was to gain something far more valuable. Liam wondered if it was truly to sell Elene or force her into his bed as she’d predicted to her mother. Androw had little recourse to deny Gunter Haakonsson anything for as long as the Norse controlled Orkney.
Liam withdrew a scroll from his sporran and unrolled it, smoothing the creases before he slid it toward a watching Androw. “This is the deed. King David signed it a fortnight ago, agreeing to accept Orkney and Shetland in appeasement for King Haakon Haakonsson’s debts. My grandfather is the Earl of Orkney, and King David is now your sovereign.”
“This won’t endear you to anyone.”
“I didn’t think it would. But the people know my grandfather and my Uncle Callum. They know they’re two of the most trustworthy men alive.”
“That’s not what causes the chilly reception. The Norse traders won’t return. That means lean times for people who rely on the Norse to buy their crops.”
“We provide just as much trade for Orcadians as the Norse do, and my grandfather accounted for that. The Earl of Angus has agreed to increase trade and keep their close ties to the islands. You know the Mackays are connected to this land, just as they are to Castle Varrich.”
“I know that, and you know that. Even people on the isles know that. But that doesn’t mean the Norse will make anyone’s life easy.”
“Then the Norse should have considered that before they failed to pay a dowry.” Liam swept his gaze over the gathered villagers. He noticed that most stared, or at least glanced, at him frequently. The only person studiously ignoring him was Elene, who faced him but never looked at him. When she looked toward the dais, she offered Androw a challenging glare.
“That may be, but Haakon Haakonsson is in Norway, and you are the one here. Tread lightly, my friend. I do not want to explain any bumps or bruises to your mother. Lady Mackay terrifies me.” The enormous redhead chuckled, a booming sound that bounced off the walls. Liam cocked an eyebrow, knowing Androw only half-jested. The man would be wise to recall Mairghread Mackay was the best knife thrower in all the Highlands, defeating her oldest brother Callum year after year at the Highland Gatherings. While Callum reigned as the men’s champion for nearly two decades, it was undisputed that Mairghread was likely the best in all of Scotland.
Androw’s laughter and clap on Liam’s back was a genuinely friendly gesture, but Liam understood it signaled to all in the gathering hall that Liam was a welcome guest. He was certain they would need the reminder in the days to come.
CHAPTER2
Elene pretended to focus her ire on Androw throughout the midday meal, but she couldn’t ignore the brooding Highlander who sat beside her chieftain and distant relative. She noticed each of his expressions, reading them with ease despite not hearing the men’s conversation. When Androw looked at her and spoke, she observed Liam’s concern, then anger. She assumed Androw explained the situation with Gunter and her mother, Inburgh. His mien turned shrewd as he handed a scroll to Androw to read. She knew not what the scroll decreed, but she suspected it was about Orkney’s impending transition from Norse to Scottish rule.
Intertwined for centuries, Orkney had belonged to the Norse since their early conquests, but men of mixed Norse and Scottish ancestry governed them and Shetland. The Earl of Sinclair—now also the Earl of Orkney—and the Earl of Angus both held Norse lineage a few generations back. With the new position, the Earl of Sinclair and Orkney would be known as the Earl of Caithness.
It surprised her to hear the young man introduced as a Mackay, since she’d assumed he was a Sinclair. She’d met some when she was a young girl when they passed through Skaill before venturing to other parts of the archipelago.
“Elene, did you hear me?” Katryne tugged on Elene’s arm. “Can we go down to the water’s edge to gather whelks and cockles?”
“You must wait for the tide to go out. I don’t want you to slice your fingers off if you can’t see what you’re doing.” Elene looked down at her younger sister, a near-mirror image of her own face and their dead father’s. The earnest, deep-blue eyes pleaded with her, and there was little hope she could refuse Katryne or Johan. She’d loved wading into the chilled Atlantic waters, digging her toes into the sand as she searched for the shellfish. She still accompanied them often to search for spoots. She didn’t feel either her brother or her sister was old enough at ten and twelve to handle the long knife needed to pry the razorfish from the sand at low tide.
At ten years Katryne’s senior and twelve years Johan’s senior, Elene had felt more like a mother than an older sister for half her life. Inburgh miscarried several pregnancies between Elene and Katryne, and the village midwife told her to stop trying after she nearly died birthing Johan. It was only a few years later that the siblings’ father, Thome Isbister, died. Within weeks, Inburgh abandoned the children in favor of alcohol, and only two months after her husband died, she took a lover. She ignored nearly all her duties to cater to a man who eventually got himself killed by falling from the gristmill and cracking his head open while drunk.
