“Jesu! Mary!”the earl exploded as he felt the knife slamming into his shoulder, slipping easily through the silk of his shirt and into the thick muscle beneath the fabric. Instinct brought him to his feet, and grabbing her by her wrist, he cruelly twisted the blade from her hand. “Wench,” he roared, “that is the second time in two days that ye hae attacked me meaning to do bodily harm! I’ll nae have it, d’ye hear me?” His other hand stanched the flow of blood from his shoulder even as he released her wrist.
Arabella rubbed her injured wrist for a moment, certain the earl had broken it. Then stepping back a pace, she slapped Tavis Stewart with all her might. “If you did not wish my enmity, my lord, then you should not have stolen me away.”
The earl rocked back on his heels with her blow, astounded that someone so little had such strength. “I should hae let ye wed wi’ yer coward, for ye surely would hae killed him a lot sooner than I’ll hae the chance, lassie,” he said wryly, closing his eyes a moment as the hall began to revolve.
“Sit down, Tavis,” Colin advised, pushing his elder brother back into his chair. “The knife touched nothing vital, but yer going to be weak wi’ loss of yer fine, blue blood.”
Grinning at his younger brother’s words, Donald pressed a goblet of red wine into the earl’s hand, while Gavin began to clean and bind the wound with cloths brought him by the frightened servants.
Meg Hamilton drew Arabella back into her seat and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She thought the English girl terribly brave.
“Well, now,” the earl said insultingly, “what the hell am I going to do with this spitfire, since she’s no longer of value to me, or to anyone else for that matter?”
“Yer going to wed wi’ her, brother,” Colin Fleming said quietly.
“Never!”Both the earl and Arabella spoke in unison.
The young priest ignored them. “Ye need a wife, Tavis, and once she’s yers, ye can claim her inheritance, or at least remuneration from the English king for Greyfaire Keep. ‘Twill gie Sir Jasper a bad turn, I’ve nae a doubt. No one yet knows of Sir Jasper and Lady Rowena’s marriage outside of Greyfaire. There hasn’t been time to get word to the king. ‘Twill seem a great insult that ye stole the coward’s bride from the very church itself where he demanded sanctuary,andthen brought her back over the border to marry yerself.And,‘twill make it seem as if Sir Jasper wed wi’ the lassie’s mother in a desperate attempt to steal the girl’s wealth. He’ll be a laughingstock, particularly if ye get our own king to back up yer demands for the girl’s dowry wi’ the English king. Jemmie ‘twould do it for ye.”
“Richard of England will nae gie the rights of an English border keep to a Scot,” the earl said.
“But he might pay ye a forfeit for it. He canna disinherit the lass wi’ out cause, and none of this is her fault. He might hold Greyfaire in trust for yer eldest daughter, provided an English match were made for her while she was in the cradle. She could be sent to be fostered by her betrothed’s family when she was six. There hae been many border matches made over the years. This solution has always been the one used to settle the disputes of ownership and guarantee fealty to the right king.”
“Are ye mad, Colin?” Donald Fleming demanded. “The lass will kill him! She’s already tried twice!”
They all spoke as if she weren’t even in the room, and Arabella could feel her anger seething.
“I’d thought to ask Rob for Mistress Margaret’s hand in marriage since she’s of an age now,” the earl remarked casually. “She’s a gentle and biddable lass.”
“Not so biddable that she’ll wed wi’ ye, Tavis Stewart,” Meg said boldly, surprising even herself with her words. “Besides, I love another, and I’ll wed wi’ no one but him, my lord!”
“What, lassie?” He found himself amused by this situation. “Ye’d hae another to me? Who is this paragon that ye prefer to an earl?”
“Tis the earl’s brother,” Meg said boldly. “Gavin and I love each other, Tavis. Rob approves, and Gavin is to speak to his father as soon as he can.”
The earl laughed, looking over to his red-faced brother, whose adoring look toward Meg Hamilton finished the tale. “I canna interfere wi’ the course of true love,” he said, “and I would nae make an enemy of my brother. I wish ye both happy. ‘Twill be a good match,” he finished graciously.
“So would a match between ye and Arabella Grey,” Colin persisted.
“I’ll not wed him,” Arabella said firmly. “I’d sooner take the veil!”
“The church will nae hae ye wi’ out a dowry, lassie,” the earl replied dryly. “My priestly brother is correct, and as much as the prospect terrifies me, Arabella Grey, a marriage between us would seem the ideal solution. Only a noble husband can regain yer inheritance for ye.”
“I can regain my own inheritance!” Arabella said angrily.
“I think not, lassie,” the earl said quietly.
“There are others who would have me,” she told him.
“Perhaps,” Tavis Stewart agreed. “As long as they did not incur yer fierce temper, spitfire, they would be dazzled, for yer surely fair to look upon, Arabella Grey.”
She flushed, confused. She did not know if he were giving her an honest compliment, remarking upon her general beauty, or if he was referring to his untimely entry into her little tower the previous evening.
“In order to find yerself a proper husband,” he continued, “ye must return to England and plead yer case before yer king. Surely ye do not propose to travel alone? How will ye pay yer way along the road? SirJasper has wed wi’ yer mother to hae Greyfaire Keep. He believes he does hae it now. Yer return would threaten his position. I believe he would not hesitate to permanently remove such a threat. He’s murdered one woman that we already know of, lassie. Do ye think the fact that ye are his wife’s child would protect ye? He wants Greyfaire, and if he must, he’ll kill ye to get it. Ye need a husband who is willing to defend not only yer person, but yer rights as well. What Englishman will defend ye against the king’s chosen man, Arabella Grey?” he finished. He had seen her blush, and for a brief moment his heart had softened toward her, even as his shoulder ached with the pain of her attack. Poor, wee lass. She really had no choice, and now neither had he.
“I’ll not wed with ye, my lord, if I die for it, and there is no way you can force me to your will,” Arabella said icily. Then she stood up and stalked from the hall.
Meg rose quickly to her feet, and with a curtsy to the gentlemen, hurried after her friend.
