“Almost three weeks now,” came the answer.
“Why did no one inform me?”
“We didna know where ye were, Tavis.”
“And as I think on it, Mother, how is it that ye know where my wife went and are privy to her very thoughts?” he wanted to know.
“I probably should nae hae known at all, Tavis, but for chance. I came to Dunmor the day before Arabella’s departure to fetch an old cradle that lay in the attics. It was my mother’s, and I wanted it for Ailis’ new baby. I could see how nervous Arabella was to see me, and then Flora told me that she was planning to leave for England on the morrow, taking wee Margaret wi’ her. I went to Arabella’s apartments and begged her to confide in me, which she finally did. She didna really wish to go, but she did nae know what else to do.”
“She might hae waited for me to come home,” the earl said.
“Aye!” Donald agreed.
“Shut up, Donald!” his mother snapped, and then turned her full attention again to her eldest offspring. “And what would ye hae done when ye came home, Tavis? Ye dinna need to tell me, for I know and so did Arabella. Ye would hae put her off once again, wheedling and cajoling her and trying to get a son on her in an effort to make her forget Greyfaire.”
“But why can she nae forget it?” the earl cried. “From the moment we met, that damned pile of English stones hae come between us! Another man I could contend wi’, but Greyfaire is worse than any lover! She is bewitched by it!”
“Why should she forgetGreyfaire?”Lady Margery demanded. “Could ye forget Dunmor were it taken from ye, Tavis? Should Arabella have numbered her days only from your meeting and put aside her life before then?”
“But I am a man,” he said. “I am the Earl of Dunmor and lord of the castle.”
“Why should it be any different for Arabella, my son? She was Greyfaire’s heiress and lady of the keep. It is a part of her very soul. If ye canna understand that, then ye will never understand her and ye dinna deserve her. Besides, as the last of the Greys, she takes her obligations most seriously. The Greys have been at Greyfaire for several centuries, even as the Stewarts hae been here at Dunmor. Ye could nae expect her to simply desert Greyfaire and leave her people to the tender mercies of Sir Jasper Keane, could ye? A woman who would do such a thing would nae be worthy to be Dunmor’s Countess.” Lady Margery put her hand upon her son’s arm. “Go and fetch her home, Tavis,” she finished.
“And if she is nae atGreyfaire?”he asked.
“Then go south and find her,” his mother counseled wisely.
“I must go back to Edinburgh, Mother. Jamie only let me come home to oversee my estates before I return north again,” the earl told her.
“If yer going after that wench, then do it, damnit!” Donald said irritably. “Ye dinna owe Jamie Stewart for anything, Tavis. He didna bother to tell ye that yer wife hae divorced ye wi’ his complicity and returned to England, did he? He can send someone else north. The highland chiefs will gie him difficulties no matter what he does. ‘Tis their nature to quarrel wi’ one another and wi’ anyone else who crosses their path. They hae always been more trouble to the Stewarts than they were worth, in my opinion. Find yer wife and bring her back, though why ye want the troublesome wench I dinna know. Ye’ll nae be content or happy unless ye do. Even I can see it, though it pains me to admit it.”
Lady Margery nodded her agreement. “Donald is right,” she said, and her eyes twinkled as she continued, “though it surprises me to hear myself say such a thing, for when do we ever agree, Donald, my son, except perhaps in yer choice of a wife? I do approve the Hepburn lass, for she is a good lass and loves ye. I canna understand why, for yer a prickly bear of a man, a surly sort, and that’s the truth, but perhaps she sees a different side of ye than the rest of us.”
“I’ll send a messenger to Jamie on the morrow before I head south,” the earl told them. “I’ll be long gone before Jamie can tell me nay. He’ll nae dare, however, to come between Arabella and me again. Yer right, Mother, when ye complain that I hae nae considered Arabella’s feelings in this matter. I see now that if I am to defeat this wee stone keep that my wife loves above all else, then I must help her to regain it. Only then, when it is safe and once more in her firm possession, will it cease to be a rival to me. Only then may we get on wi’ our lives.”
And in the morning, as the Earl of Dunmor’s clansman rode north to Edinburgh to seek the king, the earl himself and an armed party of men turned south toward England. At Greyfaire they found Rowan FitzWalter, who, after ascertaining their identity, opened the keep to them, welcoming the Earl of Dunmor with courtesy. Meat and drink were set out in the little hall for them.
“Her ladyship has gone south to seek King Henry,” Rowan FitzWalter told the earl before he might even ask. “Wee Maggie is, of course, with her mother. My father and fifteen of our best lads escorted them, and my sister Lona has gone to serve my lady.”
The earl had already noted the shabby condition of the keep and of its lands. “What hae happened here, laddie?” he asked Rowan.
“Sir Jasper Keane,” Rowan replied bitterly. “The harvests have been poor the last few years, my lord, but Sir Jasper took what little we had without a care for Greyfaire’s people. There has been starvation, and several families, on the land for many generations, departed it to seek a better life elsewhere. Sir Jasper stole our strongest and finest men and boys to make up a troop of soldiers that he might impress King Henry. Then blight struck the orchards, killing off most of the older fruit-bearing trees. He did not care. He took what he could, while leaving us to sicken and starve.
“When our lady returned home she filled us with hope, and she set us to repairing the damage Sir Jasper Keane had inflicted upon Greyfaire. She showed us how to cleanse the earth in the orchards of the canker that had killed the trees, and she had us replant seedlings that in several years will bear fruit again. There is no luck for us without a Grey on the land, my lord. The old women said it in the first months that Lady Arabella was gone, and though many scoffed at first, we came to realize that it was true,” Rowan finished.
Tavis Stewart nodded at the conclusion of Rowan’s tale and felt a bit guilty. Had he not ignored Arabella’s pleas, perhaps none of this would have happened. Oh, the orchards would still have gotten canker, for such was a whim of nature, but as for the rest of it…together, he and his wife could have prevented much suffering. It was unlikely that Greyfaire would ever recover, but that thought he kept to himself.
God only knew he had been wrong enough times in his life, but looking about him, Tavis Stewart realized that Greyfaire had never been either a rich or a prosperous place. At best they had survived, perhaps more comfortably than other places, but no more than that. What had held it all together was a series of good masters that the Grey lords had been, but the Greys were no more, excepting his wee spitfire. She was going to need his help whether she realized it or not. Arabella was fighting a losing battle with Greyfaire even if she was not quite ready to face the truth, but when she did face it, he wanted to be the one to comfort her. Whatever had happened between them, he loved her. He knew now that his mother had been right when she had told him that he would not want any woman less than Arabella Grey to bear his name or his sons.
The earl chose two of his men to accompany him south, and then instructing his captain to render the keep any help necessary, he told his clansmen to return to Dunmor as soon as possible. Tavis Stewart departed Greyfaire wiser, yet sadder. It pained him to realize now how his wife had suffered the knowledge of Sir Jasper Keane’s neglect of Greyfaire, of how she had so desperately tried to help these people she considered her responsibility, and all without his assistance, because he had been too busy going about his own affairs to take but a moment to hear her concerns and to render her his aid. Then he smiled to himself. She was a strong woman for all her small size.
He found the king at his favorite residence of Sheen, and although Henry Tudor was surprised, he granted the Earl of Dunmor an audience. “Do you come on your nephew’s business, then, my lord?” he asked even before the earl had straightened himself up from his bow.
“Nay, yer majesty. I seek my wife, whom I am told came south seeking yer aid.”
So, Henry Tudor considered,he loves her despite everything.“Lady Grey informed me, my lord, that she had been granted a divorce from you,” the king said.
“Aye,” the earl admitted, “but I intend remarrying her as soon as I find her. ‘Tis a foolish misunderstanding between us that I will correct.”
