“I can, and I will,” Maggie said obdurately.
“We will discuss this at a later date when yer in a more reasonable mood,” he replied, smiling at her.
Maggie did not smile back.
Bhaltair now came into the hall, escorting her grandfather.
“Aah,” Ewan Hay said, “here is Lord Dugald come to witness the signing of our union, madam.”
Dugald Kerr cast a scornful glance at the Hay. “Are the bairns safe?” he asked his granddaughter.
“Aye,” she told him. She said nothing more, but her face registered her fear.
He was surprised to see such an emotion in her eyes, for Maggie had never been one to allow fear to overcome her. “Ye don’t have to wed the bastard,” he said.
“I do,” Maggie responded. “I gave my word, Grandsire, and my honor is every bit as important to me as a man’s would be.”
“But this man has not acted in an honorable fashion,” the laird answered his granddaughter. “Ye are free to refuse him now.”
“Nay,” Maggie said low.
Dugald Kerr fastened his gaze upon Ewan Hay. “What is it ye are doing to coerce my Maggie into this foul union?” he demanded of the young man.
Ewan Hay avoided looking directly at the old man, but he did tell him the truth. “I have told her if she does not wed me, I will have ye killed,” he responded coldly.
“Kill me then, ye dishonorable bastard!” the old laird said. “Ye discredit the name of Hay, and it will be shouted throughout the Borders to yer family’s shame. Ye cannot keep such ignominious behavior a secret.”
“Nay, Grandsire!” Maggie cried, her eyes filled with tears. She loved the old man so much, and his bravery almost broke her heart. “I cannot have yer death on my conscience, and even if he did what he threatens, he would find a way to make a marriage with me. Let this strife end here. I will wed him even though I believe this to be a bigamous union. Fingal Stewart is alive. He will return to me, to our bairns!”
“Are we ready to sign the contracts?” Father Gillies broke in. “The conflict surrounding this matter is certainly resolved now.”
“I am an old man, Margaret Jean Kerr,” the laird said. “I have lived more than seventy years, and I am content to die if it will keep ye from this man.”
Maggie stepped forward, enfolding him in an embrace. God’s toenail, he was so thin and so frail beneath his heavy dark velvet gown! “Ye will die in yer own time, Grandsire, and not on my account. I could not bear it. I will sign the marriage agreement.” She hugged him gently, murmuring softly in the old man’s ear so only he heard her. “But he will have no pleasure of me for I will kill him on our wedding night.”
Dugald Kerr stepped back from his granddaughter, nodding. His pride in her was more than evident. “I am hungry,” he said. “Let us do this wretched thing so we may break our fast quickly.”
They stepped up to the high board where the priest had carefully laid out the parchment upon which the marriage contract was written. Maggie scanned it quickly, noting that it turned everything that was hers over to Ewan Hay.
“Will ye have yer grandsire sign for ye, my lady,” the priest asked her, “or would ye prefer to make yer own mark?”
Maggie did not answer him, instead signing her full name at the designated spot where her name had previously been written.Margaret Jean Kerr, by her own hand.
The priest’s mouth fell open, revealing rotting teeth. “Ye write?” he said.
“And I read as well, Priest,” Maggie answered him. “I notice ye have given this thief everything that I possess. ’Tis hardly just, but no matter.” She shrugged casually.
Dugald Kerr hid a smile, especially when Ewan Hay took up the quill to make an X where his name was already written. When the Hay passed the quill to the laird, the old man wroteDugald Alexander Kerr, by his own handwhere his name was written. He then returned the quill to the priest.
“It is done,” Father Gillies said in pleased tones. “There but remains the matter of the church’s blessing upon ye both in three days’ time.”
“Should ye not give me a kiss?” the Hay asked Maggie.
“Ye can wait until the blessing,” she said coldly.
“Did ye make Fingal Stewart wait to kiss ye once the contracts were signed?” Ewan Hay wanted to know.
“Ye are not Fingal Stewart, nor will ye ever be,” Maggie said with devastating effect. She signaled to Busby to bring the food so they might break their fast. Then she ate quickly so she might excuse herself with the excuse her household duties needed attending to, and hurried from the hall.
