“You are not eating,” Buchan told his brother. “If my scouts come early enough today, we will ride out immediately.”
Sir Alexander stabbed a piece of duck. “My appetite has suddenly improved.” He smiled at Alana, but it quickly faded. “Do you not feel well today?”
Alana realized she could not smile back. In that moment, she understood why her mother had been charmed. His smile made him a beautiful man, and he had the ability to seem so concerned and caring. “I am fine.”
She began to eat some bread with cheese, realizing she had hardly eaten in days. She stole a glance at Buchan. She had no intention of suffering his wrath another time. She was not going to bring him a vision he did not like.
“Are you all right this morning?” Godfrey asked, low.
She glanced quickly at him. Was he beginning to know her well, after all these years, so that he could see she was distressed? Or had he always known her well—and she had not wanted to see it? “I did not sleep well. You frightened me when you spoke of Elgin falling, and Brodie being surrounded. What happens here at Brodie when my uncle leaves?” she asked him.
“He is leaving us with twenty more men,” Godfrey said.
Twenty extra men would not hold Iain back should he ever wish to take Brodie.
“I cannot spare more,” Buchan said, having been listening to them. “I received a message from Mowbray last night. He wants to find Bruce, chase him from his lair and rout him, once and for all.”
Alana laid her bread down. “Is that even possible?”
“It’s possible if we can surprise him,” Buchan said. “Did I not tell you the news? King Edward is sending us an army.”
“So the fighting will not wait till the spring,” Alana said.
“And that dismays you?” Buchan asked sharply. “Do you not wish for the goddamned mad King Robert to be captured and killed once and for all? Do you not wish for peace here in the north of Scotland?”
“Of course I do.” She also knew she feared for Iain, should there be an ambush.
“If we can peel Iain of Islay away from Bruce first, so much the better,” Sir Alexander said.
“I sent a scout to Concarn last night, with a privy message for him,” Buchan said. He burped and pushed his plate aside.
Alana quickly stared at her plate, certain her cheeks were heating. Did her uncle’s message concern a marriage offer to her sister Margaret? What else could it contain?
“You did not tell me,” Sir Alexander said tersely. He pushed his food aside, uneaten.
“I was not aware that I must tell you of my actions,” Buchan said.
“Are you making an offer of marriage in a letter?”
“Of course not.” Buchan was contemptuous. “We need to have a privy meeting, Alex, without Bruce knowing, so I can offer him Margaret and her lands.”
Sir Alexander rubbed his unshaven jaw grimly.
“Do not look so unhappy. If we can convince Iain to betray Bruce, to fight with us, I think we can end this war once and for all.”
Would Iain ever betray Bruce? Alana did not think so, but she had seen how he coveted land and power. She was his mistress, but he was interested in a marriage to Alice. Alana was not naive. Men changed sides in war, they changed their politics all of the time, motivated by self-interest.
Maybe Eleanor was right. Maybe it was better this way—with Iain no longer caring for her. Perhaps she must stop caring about him now, as well. Otherwise she would never survive his marriage to one of her sisters.
Alana shot a glance at Sir Alexander and realized he was still staring, and very closely. He said to Buchan, “This talk of marriage is distressing for Alana.”
“Is it?” Buchan said. “Then she must give us a vision or two so I can reward her appropriately with a husband of her own.” He smiled at Godfrey.
Godfrey started, as did Alana.
“You want Brodie back, and you do have a claim,” Buchan said. “Godfrey is meant to inherit here. Would that not be a good union, should you manage to please me, Alana?”
Alana gaped. She was shocked by the suggestion that she would marry Godfrey—her nemesis from childhood, and her recent, sudden ally. She glanced at him and he looked back, his cheeks pink, his eyes as stunned as hers must be.
