“I nay succeeded.”
“That is not the point.”
Elspet smacked the table. “I am too tired to listen to the two of ye bicker like a pair of spoiled bairns. If William doesna wish to marry, then another plan must be found.” She blew out a disgusted huff, pushed back her chair, and stood. “I am going to see how much water is ready. Settle this amongst yerselves and let me know whether Beitris and I should start packing our things.” She paused at the doorway to her chambers and bowed her head. “And while ye’re at it, any suggestions on where we might go would be much appreciated. Since I know of no one who will take us in.” Without another word, she left and closed the door softly behind her.
“There has to be someone who would take ye in.” William cast a worried look at Beitris.
“Who?” She poured herself more wine and scowled at him over the rim. “My father’s only kin is Euban. All my mother’s kin banished us. They’ve never even met me.” She took a long slow sip, then shrugged. “Except for the Lady Christiana. She is the only ally my mother has. Why do ye think the Lord of Argyll bade ye come to us so quickly?”
“And how do ye think the Lady of Argyll will react when word reaches her that ye refused to help her kin?” Valan turned to William. Victory was near. The snare had been set and nearly sprung. All they need do now was collect their trophy.
“I did not refuse,” William said. “Exactly.”
“Neither did ye volunteer willingly,” Beitris shot back at him with a hard narrowing of her eyes. “I ken well enough I am nay exactly the wifely type, but I promise ye would never suffer any boredom.” She rose, dismissing both the subject and William with a careless flip of her hand. “I am off to the battlements for air.” She paused and glared back at them, flaring her delicate nostrils. “The stench of cowardice is strong in this room. ’Tis about to choke me.” She slammed the door to the tower stair so hard, the flames danced across the five-armed candelabra.
“Well done, William.” Valan poured another whisky, waiting for his second in command to say the words he wanted to hear.
“They truly have nowhere to go?” William asked quietly. “Truly?”
Valan shook his head. “The MacDougall would probably allow us to bring them back to Argyll, but I doubt verra much that Lady Christiana would be pleased with that solution. After all, if Lady Beitris had been born a man, the lairdship of the clan would be hers without question, creating another powerful ally in the borderlands for Clan MacDougall. But as it is, if Clan Maxwell is lost to Euban, rumor has it his loyalties lie with whoever benefits him most. I wouldna be surprised if he is not the one responsible for the English attacks on Caerlaverock.”
“What a bastard.” William stared down into his empty glass.
Valan refilled their glasses and lifted his for a toast. “The decision is ultimately yers, William. But I advise ye to think long and hard and let yer conscience be yer guide. Ye can claim a lairdship, a wife, and be the savior of a clan or doom these innocent folk to the cruel leadership of Euban Maxwell and turn Lady Elspet and Lady Beitris into a pair of homeless women forced to do whatever necessary to survive.”
“That is not fair.”
“Life rarely is.” Valan downed the whisky and set his glass on the table. He pushed himself to his feet, strolled to the door leading to Elspet’s private chambers, then paused and turned a steely glare on William. “I want an answer from ye by daybreak. That is an order. Not a request. And if ye fail to keepthatorder, I shall leave it to my blade to handle any further discussion. Understood?”
“Aye, Constable.”
The door flew open just as he reached for the latch.
“Saint’s bones!” Startled, Dullis dropped Elspet’s soiled armor and clutched her chest. She bobbed up and down, scooping up the articles one by one. With an insolent sneer, she blocked his way. “Her ladyship is bathing and wants solitude.”
“I shall wash her back. On wi’ ye now.” He had no time for the surly maid and trusted her even less. When William came to his senses and agreed to marry Beitris, the details of the union, including the procurement of a proper forgery of the king’s order, would have to be launched with the stealth and precision of a battle ambush to keep the maid from betraying them.
When the crone refused to move, he set her aside and pointed toward the dining hall’s outer exit. “I saidon wi’ ye, Dullis. Challenging me is ill-advised, and if ye persist in doing so, I shall order my men to pack ye up and deliver ye to Euban Maxwell afore the sun sets.”
The older woman’s eyes flared wide. She backed away, then scurried off, her lopsided veil flopping like the wings of a great white bird.
Good. ’Twas high time the crone realized her loyalties were known. He closed the outer door, headed down the hallway, and entered the small sitting room next to Elspet’s bedchamber. His intentions were two-fold: discover if the lady found Beitris’s marriage to William acceptable, and, as he had told Dullis, help the lovely lass with her bathing.
He eased open the bedchamber door, noting the dimness of the room. The maid must have drawn the tapestries across the windows to grant the lady a wee bit of peace and privacy. The hinges creaked, revealing his progress as he entered.
“Dullis, please. I said I wished to be alone.”
“It is not Dullis.” He closed the door behind him and settled the bar across it.
“Valan.” She sounded neither surprised nor irritated. A very encouraging sign, indeed.
“Aye, m’lady.” He stepped around the wooden screen and came to halt, helpless to avert his hungry stare.
Candles cast a golden glow throughout the bathing alcove, the reflections of the flames dancing across the burnished edges of the hammered copper tub. Submerged in rose-scented milkiness, the waterline rippling just above her breasts, Elspet reclined in one end of the large tub with her arms resting atop its flared sides. Apparently, she had already washed her hair. Sleek and shining, it flowed down into the water, a river of purest ebony.
“Ye are a goddess,” he whispered, frozen in place.
She smiled and closed her eyes, pillowing her head on a folded linen propped behind her. “Nay, my fine accomplice. I am merely a woman trying to survive my time allotted on this earth.”
