Simon tried smiling sweetly at Morainn and it did not work. The woman scowled at him. He had spent a fortnight doing all he could to reach Ilsabeth but she was ignoring him. She sent back his letters, his gifts, and tossed his flowers over the walls. Still in the vase. He was sure that that time she had been aiming at his head.
“Ye made the wrong choice and after I had warned ye,” said Morainn.
“I was just finished with fighting my brother and taking him before the king to be tried as a traitor,” Simon said. “All I could see was his madness and I had to protect her from that. Aye, a part of me still believed that ye cannae get madness like ye do the ague and it doesnae have to run in the blood. But then I would see Henry calmly speaking of how he tied up my three younger brothers, put them in a leaky boat, and pushed them out into the loch. Or how he killed his wife and near every girl bairn his wives gave him. ‘Tis a madness so big, so cold and terrifying, that, aye, I was frightened.”
Morainn took him by the hand and drew him into the little cottage she and Tormand used when visiting with the Armstrongs. “Come and have some of my mead. Ye are being very boldly ignored in your attempts at wooing, I hear.”
He sat down at the table and dragged his hands through his hair. “Thoroughly ignored and I have run out of ideas on how to get her to notice me.”
“Oh, she is noticing ye. Ne’er doubt that.”
“She isnae noticing me in the way I want her to. I just need to talk to her. I tried writing out what I wanted to say but she willnae read the letters. I havenae e’en seen the children,” he added quietly, a little hurt that the children also ignored him. “But, they have at least kept the wee gifts I bought them.”
“They will come round, too. Right now I suspect they are following Ilsabeth’s lead.”
“Weel, I am running out of patience.”
“So, what? Ye will tuck tail and run home?” said Tormand as he walked over to the table and kissed the top of Morainn’s head.
“Nay. I will kidnap her and make her listen to me.” He frowned when Morainn started to giggle so hard, Tormand had to steady her in her chair. “It wasnae that funny.”
“Nay, but ‘tis exactly what ye must do.” Morainn grinned at him. “Give her one more week to come round, then whisk her off to some place secluded. Aye, that will work.”
“So, here he is. The bastard that seduced my daughter.”
Simon slowly stood up to look at Cormac Armstrong. For a man his age he was still fit and strong enough for Simon to wonder if he could win in a fight. Then he saw the glint in the man’s eyes. He, too, was laughing. Simon idly wondered when the man who had struck fear into people’s hearts as the king’s hound had begun to become a source of amusement to everyone.
“I didnae really seduce her,” he started to say, and then grimaced. The manner in which a man took another man’s daughter’s virginity was not something to discuss, especially with that father.
“Aye, best ye stop right there.” He smiled at Morainn when she served him some mead. “Thank ye, love. Whenever ye realize what a mistake ye made in wedding this rogue, ye just let me ken it. I have a bevy of sons who need good wives.”
“That make a fine mead?” she asked.
“That would be a good thing to add to the clan.” He looked back at Simon, who was just finishing a fortifying drink of Morainn’s mead. “Ye are doing a verra good job of wooing her.”
“Ye wouldnae be able to tell that by the way she receives my gifts and letters.”
“Ye ignored her for two months.”
“I had a keep stripped of all that was valuable, three brothers whom I hadnae seen since they were bairns, and a terror of becoming a madmon. I was a wee bit busy.”
“Getting irritable, too. The true sign of a mon bent on wooing a difficult woman.”
“I just ne’er thought she would be this difficult. I thought that, at the verra least, she would wish to yell at me. The only true show of temper she has revealed was when she threw the flowers at me, still in the pitcher.”
Cormac chuckled. “Aye, that was a good toss and ye jumped right quick. I think she was even madder that ye managed to get out of the way in time.”
Simon looked at the grinning Cormac, Tormand, and Morainn and slowly shook his head. “And to think I spent weeks tortured about the insanity in my family.”
“Wheesht, wait until ye spend some time with the women in the clan.”
“Ahem. I am nay sure if I should feel insulted or nay,” said Morainn.
“Ye are the exception, sweet Morainn,” said Cormac.
“Because of my mead.”
“Nay, that but adds to the wonder of your presence.”
