She shuffled closer. ‘There is a change in you, a softening since last we spoke.’
‘No, as it happens, I have hardened considerably since last we spoke, old woman,’ he said, with a smirk, thinking of Rowenna’s delicious body squeezing around his cock. But his jest was lost on Criedne, who had no discernible sense of humour. ‘And Criedne, we do not speak. You spout utter nonsense, and I try to ignore it.’
‘Love denied, I said. And?’
‘And nothing.’
She placed a wizened hand on his breast. ‘Your pox-ridden heart bleeds love like a black river, Jasper Glendenning.’
‘Love is not something I want nor seek. Step aside.’
‘Ignore me, and you will lose your prize.’ The old woman slithered back. ‘You have a visitor in the hall.’
‘Who?’
‘A maggot of a man, all pale and puffed up, and he smells of devilry to me.’
Jasper ignored her and hurried onwards.
‘He’s a hound who will lead you to your doom. I have seen it, clear as day,’ she muttered at his back.
Jasper entered the hall to find Alec Carstairs standing, buttocks to the fire, warming himself. Why did his heart always sink when he encountered the man? Alec was rich, of an age with Jasper, and from a good family. Their fathers had been friends for years and allies in times of need. As boys, they had grown together, though Jasper recalled that in a tussle, he could always knock Alec onto his arse easily enough. Perhaps the fellow still resented that?
They should have much in common, but though Alec was a handsome enough fellow with thick brown hair and a winningsmile, he was a little on the flabby side, ruddy-cheeked. And there was something sloppy about the man. He had slack, full lips, and his hands were white and plump, like risen dough, the nails overly long. He spent most of his time on his ample backside, and his main virtue seemed to be his ardour for Maeve and willingness to take her on as a wife, even though she was fey and empty-headed, and if his mother was to be believed, rather free with her favours.
‘Ah, there you are, Glendenning. I heard you had to retrieve a runaway wife?’ Alec guffawed loudly.
Ah, there was another thing to add to his faults – a big mouth and lack of discretion.
‘On the contrary. She can’t get enough of me,’ Jasper replied smoothly, glowering at Alec.
‘As I cannot get enough of your comely sister, Jasper,’ said the man, swallowing hard. ‘And on that note, I am here to hasten our marriage so that I might be as blessed in matrimony as yourself.’
‘Why the haste? Maeve is young and needs to reconcile herself to the match.’
‘Reconcile? Is she not terribly fond of me?’
‘Of course, she is, but you know how it is with young lasses - always contrary.’
‘Aye, they keep a man hanging to inflame his ardour, the little witches?’
Jasper reined in his temper and tried not to think of how Rowenna had inflamed his ardour to make him her puppet.
‘Are you going to get to the point soon, Alec?’ he said.
‘I propose a grand wedding, a week hence, at Annancross. My mother is keen to put on a show of us joining our blood withthe mighty Clan Glendenning and chews at me tirelessly to get this thing done. Maeve can get married in all pomp, and you and your family will be our honoured guests.’
‘Maeve will be married from Kransmuir, as is custom,’ said Jasper.
A pained expression crossed Alec’s face. ‘Aye, but I thought it might be best, what with the troubles of late – the raids and burnings on your land, and the Warden breathing down your neck, if I have it right. It might be prudent not to invite lairds of other clans here. Would that not seem like plotting or even sedition? We are clear of this fight, us Carstairs, and surely, getting Maeve safely out of it would be a good idea. You would have one less soul to protect and more privacy for you and your bonnie, new bride, eh.’
‘I wonder that you are so eager to marry my sister, given that our clan is in dire straits?’
‘I meant no offence. And I am eager because I am in love with her, you know that. I want us to start our lives together. Maeve will grace my hall with her beauty and gentleness. She will elevate my soul and give it succour. And she will give me strong sons to seal our alliance in blood.’
Jasper would never have uttered such flowery words about any woman, even Rowenna, but the man was right. Maeve would be out of harm’s way. Her worst impulses would be checked by a respectable marriage. Well, that was how his mother had put it. And the Warden’s spies would undoubtedly be in uproar if they thought he was plotting with other lairds.
‘I would meet her, your lovely bride. She is reputed to be a great beauty,’ said Carstairs.
