“I can only speak for myself, m’lady.” He gave a modest bow, then tensed, remembering how he had learned the art of plaiting well enough to tend a lady’s hair.
“Ahh…I see.” Lady Elspet sauntered away from him. As she walked beside the wall, she allowed her fingers to graze across the tops of the merlons and down into the crenels. “Yer lady love taught ye how to braid her hair. Is that it?”
She had shared so much of her past with him. Perhaps it would be right to share his past with her. “Actually, it was my little sister,” he said. “My mother had the household to care for along with a husband, three sons, and one wee daughter. Many were the time she wished aloud that God had given her more than two hands to accomplish all her tasks. It was a help to her when I plaited my sister’s hair in the mornings.”
Elspet turned and stared at him for a long while before responding, her expression unreadable. “Yer sister?” she repeated, almost as if she didn’t believe him.
“Aye.” He shook off the uncomfortable eeriness of speaking about it. Neither he nor his brothers ever spoke about their mother or sister. Their tragic deaths held too much pain.
“What happened to her?” Elspet stepped closer, a sympathetic knowing in her eyes. “I see suffering in yer eyes.”
“An attack on our village while most of the men were on a hunt.” He struggled to explain, immediately hating himself for raking open the old wound. Such a fool he was. What did he hope to gain by speaking of things better left unsaid?
“Who attacked?” she asked softly, resting her hand atop his.
“Mercenaries who claimed our chieftain had not paid them their due.” The choking stench of burning flesh fouled his senses all over again. He snorted as he had done so many times before, but the nauseating smell always remained. “They raped every woman and child, impaled them, then set them on fire.” He forced down the bile burning at the back of his throat. “They left one old woman alive enough to tell that it was them.”
“God help ye.” The horror in Elspet’s face troubled him. Sickening her had not been his intent.
“My brothers and I found every last one of them.” He stared down at their hands resting together atop the stone wall. “We paid them their due.” He took her hand and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her knuckles. “Forgive me. I shouldha kept my past to myself. A lady such as yerself shouldna be burdened with such wickedness.”
Her golden eyes shimmered with unshed tears, then she lunged and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. “Dinna ask forgiveness. I am honored ye told me.” She kissed his cheek, then leaned back, holding his face between her hands. “And it is my honor to help ye carry the burden of that terrible time.” Her mouth trembled at the corners, her emotions fighting her effort to smile. “Ye listened to my memories. ’Tis only right I should listen to yers.”
He wished they could stand like this forever, but that would not protect her. “Beitris told me about Euban.”
She stiffened in his arms but didn’t move away. “I see.”
“And Granger,” he added, determined to have no secrets between them.
This time, she stepped away. She turned to look out across her lands, squinting against the brilliance of the morning sun. “Apparently, my Beitris has outdone the maids when it comes to gossiping.”
“It is nay gossip when it is true.” Or at least, that was his opinion. “She worries for her mother and doesna wish to see her harmed.”
“I dinna wish to see my daughter harmed either.” Elspet scowled at the view, then motioned toward the horizon. With a long sweep of her hand, she encompassed all that lay before them. “This should belong to my Beitris. All of it. It is her right.” Her hands closed into fists atop the chest-high opening in the stonework. “I dinna give a damn that she was born a lass, and neither did her father. Herbert often spoke of it when lamenting his inability to sire any more children.” She turned and locked eyes with him. “Unfortunately, with Herbert dead, his brother is well within his rights to claim Caerlaverock and the lairdship.” Bitterness crept into her tone. “I dinna care what Euban tries to do to me, but I will not allow him to harm my Beitris.” With a hard glare, she proudly lifted her chin. “The last time he tried to touch her, I cut off his ear. If he tries again, I shall relieve him of his bollocks.”
“A fair plan if ever I heard one.” Valan moved to her side but refrained from touching her. “She said some in the clan are loyal to ye but most are not. Does she know of what she speaks?” Elspet did not deserve to be banished, or even worse—forced into a marriage with a bastard just to maintain her ties to the Maxwell clan and protect the people she cared about. As long as he drew breath, he would not allow such a terrible fate to befall her. When she failed to answer, he approached the dreaded issue another way. “How much sway do Euban and Granger truly hold?”
“More since Herbert’s death.” She gave a despondent thump of her fist atop the wall. “The clan gladly followed me in Herbert’s stead whenever he was away. But now they tell me they wished Beitris had been born male to save them from Euban’s cruel nature.” She shook her head. “They know him to be a heartless cur, yet would follow him straight through the gates of Hell.”
“None of the cowards will stand at yer side?”
“The women might. But verra few of the men. If any.” She huffed out a disgusted laugh. “They have no issue with queens ruling in far-away lands but seem to believe a woman could never be a laird.” A bitter smile curled her mouth. “Even though I have watched over them and helped them thrive for many a year now, they dinna feel I can manage the leadership of their clan.”
Unfortunately, he knew she spoke the truth. While everyone easily accepted that the Lady Christiana had ruled the Lord of Argyll for years, should aught happen to their liege, the MacDougalls would replace him with the next male in line.
The same could be said about his own brother, Thorburn, former Constable over all theGallóglaigh. Thorburn’s wife, Adellis, not only ruled him but trained theGallóglaigh’s finest archers. Yet if Thorburn should die before her, a new trainer would be found immediately.
“We men are fools,” he admitted, scrubbing a hand along his jaw. “When is Euban due to arrive?”
“From what Beitris can find out, he will be here in three days’ time.”
“Then we shall be ready.” He didn’t know what or how, but he would see justice served.
The blaring blast of a horn from the northeastern tower took them both by surprise.
“God help us.” Elspet pointed at the far side of the village. “They had no archers before today.”
At the edge of the woods, the English dipped arrows into buckets of pitch, lit them, and released. The fiery missiles hit the thatched rooftops and quickly flared into an uncontrollable blaze.
