“I understand,” Baen said.
“I dinna,” his father spoke up. “Who controls the land for the lass now?”
“Elizabeth has controlled Friarsgate since her fourteenth birthday,” Lord Cambridge began. “She is a fine steward of her own lands, as was her mother before her marriage to dear Logan. She has never had any intention of giving control of her lands to a husband. Baen knows this. Because of his loyalty to you he tried to stay his attraction towards my darling niece. But she would not have it, for Elizabeth is a strong-willed lass, Lord Hay. She wanted your son, and she boldly seduced him.”
“She seduced you?” Lord Hay was at first disbelieving, and then he laughed. “She sounds like a fine hot-tempered wench to me. A man gets strong sons on a lass like that.” Then he grew serious. “If he weds her, what part will he play at Friarsgate?”
“As we have said, he will be the lady’s husband, a respected position, my lord, you will agree. But she will award him as part of the marriage settlement the position of steward of Friarsgate. Until recently her great-uncle held that place, but he is no longer able to do his duty. The infirmities of old age have finally overtaken him.”
“Why did you leave her?” Lord Hay demanded of his son.
“It was the most difficult thing I have ever done, Da, but my first loyalty must lie with you,” Baen said. “You took me in when my mother died. I was a stranger, but you accepted me readily. You have loved me and treated me equally with Jamie and Gilly. I owe you my life, Da. And I have learned duty and loyalty from you.”
Colin Hay’s green eyes filled with tears. Impatiently he wiped them away with his fist. Then he hit his son a third blow with the same fist. “You owe me naught, you mutton-headed fool! A man loves his bairns and does the best he can for them. Sending you away to wed with this lass you love is the best I can do for you, Baen. You know there is nothing for you here. Jamie must come first, and then Gilly. I can barely provide for either of them. This is a golden opportunity for you, and you must take it, my son.”
“I will be English then,” Baen said.
“Nay,” Logan Hepburn said in a kindlier tone. “You’ll be a borderer, lad. ’Tis true we raid one another’s cattle and sheep when we can, but a borderer is a borderer no matter what side of that invisible line he calls home. We’re not quite English, nor are we quite Scots. The wind blows from a different direction in the west part of the border.”
“My son will not be abused? He’ll be respected as the lady’s husband? Obeyed as her steward?” the master of Grayhaven wanted to know.
“He is already well respected there, my lord,” the laird of Claven’s Carn replied.
“Pray God then that no war separates us,” the master of Grayhaven said softly. Then he turned to Baen. “I want you to go back to Friarsgate and wed with its mistress. I want you to do for your bairn what I could not do for you, Baen. Give my grandchild its proper name. And if you would truly please me, my son, I would ask that you finally accept my surname as your own.”
“I have always been content being Baen MacColl,” the younger man said to his father with a small smile.
“Be Baen, son of Colin Hay, now. Not some nameless Colin, but Colin Hay,” the master of Grayhaven said quietly.
Baen nodded slowly. “I have always been proud to be your son, Da,” he told his father. “And I suppose in England, Hay will be a better surname for my children than MacColl. If I can gain Elizabeth’s love once again I promise you there will be more than one child at Friarsgate in this next generation.”
“Then you will go with my blessing, Baen,” Colin Hay told his son. “And take those damned English sheep of yours with you before I eat them!”
“Da! Those aren’t eating sheep,” Baen protested.
“All sheep are for eating,” the master of Grayhaven said, roaring with laughter.
Colin Hay’s two legitimate sons now entered the hall. They gawked at Lord Cambridge, having never seen anyone in such fine garb in all their lives. He gazed back at them, thinking them handsome young fellows, but then they did look a bit rough.
“Come and meet Lord Cambridge, lads, and the laird of Claven’s Carn.” Colin Hay beckoned his sons forward. “And congratulate your brother, Baen, for he is to be wed.”
James and Gilbert Hay whooped in a combination of delight and surprise.
“It’s that English girl, isn’t it?” James said.
“Aye,” Baen answered him quietly.
His two younger brothers eyed each other knowledgeably, nodding. But the words on their lips remained unspoken in the presence of their guests.
“As soon as Baen can gather his flock I’m sending him back to England with the sheep for his dower,” the master of Grayhaven said.
James and Gilbert hooted derisively, for they had thought their elder’s preoccupation with his sheep amusing.
“I thank you both for your good wishes,” Baen said to them dryly.
“If you take the sheep,” James said, grinning, “what will we serve the guests at my wedding to Jean Gordon?”
“Let the Gordons worry about that,” Baen replied. “Besides, your wedding isn’t for another few years. The bride has to grow up first,” he mocked his brother. “At least mine is a woman grown.”
