Edward inhaled. Her too bright gaze and her almost even tone distressed him far more than any shrieking or weeping could. But he knew his brave little sister. She would never descend into such hysterical behavior. Then it occurred to him that he hardly knew her at all anymore. When she had slipped away from Liddel to rendezvous with Doug Mackinnon, she had been a reckless child. The valiant woman who faced him now with a broken heart she attempted to hide was just that, a brave and peerless woman. “He will change his mind. I am sure of it.” He was careful to make certain that she could not see into his eyes, for he was hardly sure of the words he spoke.
Mary pursed her lips and did not speak for some time. “I do not know him, do I?”
Edward stroked her arm. “You have always seen him as a mighty god, but in truth, Malcolm is merely a man. He is not a bad man, Mary, but he has his flaws, as we all do.”
She looked at him and choked.
“If you cry, you will feel better,” Edward said, taking her into his arms.
But she pushed him away. “No. I will not cry.” She sniffled once. “It does not matter. All that matters is that I have failed. There will be a horrible war. Men will die. Perhaps even …” She choked. “Please, God,” she whispered, “not Stephen.”
Edward took her hands. “He is a great knight, Mary; do not fear for him.”
“But I do.” She gazed at him, trembling. “And what will be next? There is no hope for a future of peace between our families, Ed, not now, not once this war begins.”
Edward paused. “I believe in the future, Mary. I believe that it is up to us, the sons, to rectify the wrongs of the fathers, to defy the past.”
“What are you saying? That you think that one day, when you are King, this bloody border warfare will stop?”
“I believe so.”
Mary stared, then she gripped Edward’s hands, hard. “You know something that I do not! I can see it in your eyes! What is it?”
“There is hope,” Edward said after a moment’s hesitation. “There is hope, if Stephen is a man of his word. Is he?”
“Yes.”
“I think so, too.”
“What has he promised you, Ed?” Mary gasped.
“One day, when the time is right, Stephen will support me in my quest for Scotland’s throne.” He paused, then added, “God willing.”
Mary gasped again.
Edward smiled and patted her hand. “So feel better, little sister. All is not lost. Your husband and I will become allies. In time.”
“When was this alliance made?” Mary cried. “How come I was not told?”
Edward laughed. “That’s my Mary! Dear, why in God’s name should you be told of a pledge made in secret between two men?”
“Does Malcolm know?”
“He knows, but he does not think Stephen will keep his word, and he is too inflamed by Carlisle to care much now about the future.” Edward’s tone was somber—sad. “’Twas your bride-price, Mary.”
“Oh, God!” Mary moaned. She covered her face with her hands.
“What is it?” Edward asked, worry rising instantly. Mary was usually indomitable, but tonight, tonight he sensed that she was far from that. Her fragility frightened him.
“I comprehended that I was a political sacrifice,” she finally said in a low whisper. She was crying. “But for you—I would not have minded. How I wish I had known the truth sooner—but now it changes nothing.”
Edward did not know what to say. The secret alliance did not change the fact that Malcolm had so cruelly disowned his daughter on this day, an act Edward feared Malcolm might obstinately refuse to reverse. Malcolm was hardly a reasonable man when he held a grudge. “You love your husband, and that is what matters now, Mary.”
She raised her gaze to his, her eyes shining. “He will do it, you know.” She started to choke on tears again.
“What is disturbing you so greatly, Mary? ’Tis not just Father, is it?”
“I must get home.” Her voice pitched high. “I must get home immediately—before it is too late.”
