Drawing his great stallion to a halt before a wide swath of stairs leading up into his home, the earl slid to the ground. He reached up to help Arabella dismount, but the girl pushed his hand away, protesting,
“I am quite capable of dismounting a horse myself, my lord.” But then, to her intense mortification, as her feet hit the ground her legs collapsed beneath her.
“Dinna be such a proud little fool, lassie,” he admonished her as he scooped her up and carried her up the steps into the castle. “Yer legs are tired from the long ride.” He carried the irate girl into the Great Hall of Dunmor and deposited her as gently as he might into a high-backed chair by the fire. Then, looking down at her, he took her chin in his hand and tipped it up so he might see her face. “This is my house, Arabella Grey, and I will nae be shamed wi’ in it by anyone, least of all a wee slip of a girl. Yer my captive, but I will treat ye wi’ kindness and honor as long as ye merit it. Try my patience, however, and I will lock ye in the north tower and toss the key down my well.”
“Nicely done, Tavis,” came an amused voice as it moved nearer to them. “If I were this young lady, I think I should be tempted to find something sharp and stick it in ye.” The voice gained a face and form as an elegantly dressed woman moved gracefully across the hall and joined them. “Where have you been, my son? Did you forget that today is Ailis’ birthday and the family has come to Dunmor to celebrate?”
“Mother!” Tavis Stewart kissed the lovely lady and then apologized. “I did forget. There was an opportunity to settle this matter with Sir Jasper Keane, the man who murdered Eufemia, and I simply took it.” He went on to explain to his mother.
Arabella tried to be discreet in her examination of the earl’s mother, but she was frankly curious about this woman who had loved, and been beloved of a king. Margery Stewart Fleming was almost six feet in height. She had dark red hair and her eyes were dark green, like her son’s. Her features were strong for a woman, and Arabella would have called her more handsome than beautiful. Her voice was deep, but mellifluous. She had beautiful hands, which she used to punctuate her speech, and her fair white skin made even more dramatic her coloring.
Behind Lady Fleming clustered three young girls, one who looked so very much like her that it could only be her daughter. As for the other two, the elder had lovely chestnut-brown hair and large blue eyes, and the younger was a brown blonde with the same blue eyes. Sisters, perhaps, Arabella considered. She blushed when she saw that she was under as intense scrutiny from the girls as they were by her.
Lady Fleming turned her gaze to Arabella, and she immediately arose and curtsied to her elder.
The older woman smiled, well-pleased. “What pretty manners you have, my child,” she said, then slapping her big son on the arm, she demanded, “Introduce us properly, Tavis!”
“Mother,” the earl replied, “may I introduce to you Lady Arabella Grey.” He directed his speech next to Arabella. “Lassie, this is my mother, Lady Margery Fleming.”
“You poor child,” Lady Fleming said almost immediately. “You must be chilled to the bone coming across the hills on such a damp and cold day wi’ out even a cloak. Ye’ll come wi’ me, and I’ll see ye hae a nice hot tub. Then we’ll see if we can find ye something more comfortable to wear, and we’ll do what we can to salvage yer beautiful gown. Are ye hungry, child?”
“Aye, madame,” Arabella said, “and thirsty too. The wedding was to be early, and I had not yet broken my fast because there was to be a Mass.”
“Ye hae nae eaten or drunk this day?” Lady Fleming looked astounded. “Tavis! Yer a brute to treat this poor little thing so badly. Did I raise ye, then, to think so poorly of women and their needs?”
“Peace, Mother!” the earl said. “When I went over the border this morning I did nae think I should be returning wi’ a captive.”
His mother continued to look somewhat askance at him. “Continue wi’ yer introductions, then, my son,” she replied.
“Lady Grey, my sister, Ailis Fleming.”
Ailis Fleming curtsied to Arabella, who said, “Felicitations on your birthday, Mistress Fleming.”
“Lady Grey, Mistress Margaret Hamilton, and her sister, Mary.”
The Hamilton sisters curtsied to Arabella, who returned their greeting in kind.
“I’m a wee bit taller than ye, Lady Grey,” Meg Hamilton said, “but I think we might alter some of my gowns to fit ye, though none would be as beautiful as the gown yer wearing.”
Arabella smiled shyly. “‘Tis the finest dress I have ever owned,” she admitted. “‘Tis my wedding gown.”
“Aye, Meg,” the earl said wickedly. “Lady Arabella was to have wed this day wi’ yer sister’s murderer. She has had a most fortunate escape, although she canna seem to see it that way, can ye, lassie?”
“You really are a bastard, my lord,” Arabella said furiously.
There was an awkward silence, and finally the earl said, “Will no one say anything?”
“What do you expect them to say?” snapped Arabella. “You have just introduced me to the Mistress Hamiltons as the bride-to-be of a man who must surely be their bitterest enemy. Do you assume that Mistress Margaret and Mistress Mary can so easily overlook that? Whatever she may have done, Mistress Eufemia was their elder sister and they loved her. Once again you display to me a lack of delicacy of feelings, my lord earl.”
Lady Fleming almost laughed, but she restrained herself with much difficulty. This petite young girl’s attack upon her son was most refreshing. Women were usually apt to make fools of themselves over Tavis. His title, his royal relations, and his handsome face seemed to be irresistible until now.
“Oh, please, Lady Grey,” Meg Hamilton said earnestly, “do not think that we would hold you accountable for anything that Sir Jasper Keane did. I know I speak for my whole family when I tell ye that we dinna. Indeed we are most astounded by yer appearance in our midst, but ye must believe the earl when he tells ye that ye have had a most narrow escape. Sir Jasper is nae a kind or a good man.”
“Where do ye intend housing this child, Tavis?” demanded his mother.
“In the west tower, Mother. There is but one entrance and exit to the west tower apartments. Lady Grey is not, I suspect, above attempting to escape my custody, are ye lass?” he said with a grin.
“Are you asking for my parole, my lord?” Arabella said sweetly. “Well, I’ll not give it you! Offered the opportunity, I will escape you!”
