“You will not talk to them in that manner!” Ramsay said, stepping forward.
“I never want to see any one of you until I draw my last breath. Do not come near my property. You are not, and will never be, welcome. You are excluded from my will. As of today, you both are dead to my memory.” He turned and walked away.
The foursome stared at him as he got into his carriage and sped away, leaving dust in its wake. Eleonor burst into tears, and Ramsay embraced her and comforted her. “’Tis alright, me lass,” he crooned to her. “Ye are me family now, and I will love ye and cherish ye, just as I will love and cherish our child. Dae ye understand me, Eleonor?”
Eleonor nodded. “Thank you, Ramsay. For… for coming back. I…” She burst into tears once again, and Ramsay cleaned her tears away and said warm, soothing words to her until she became still in his arms.
“Walk with me, sweetling,” Alistair said, tearing his eyes away from his brother and Eleonor, one hand linked with Jane’s and the other applying pressure to his wound. He looked at her, his eyes kind and loving.
“We should not walk, Alistair; you are bleeding,” Jane said, her face filled with worry.
He smiled at her. “I am more than fine, Jane Marsh.”
“I suppose,” Jane said with a low, self-deprecating laugh, “that I cannot in good conscience be called that anymore.”
“What, Jane?” Alistair said with mock shock. “Me lass, ye dinnae cease tae amaze me with the lengths ye are willing tae go fer our love. ‘Evelind’ would be a fitting Scottish name, I think. Or ‘Mairin.’”
Jane chuckled, but she sounded weary. “You ken what I mean, Alistair. The surname. I have just been disowned.”
“Yerunclehas as good as disowned ye,” Alistair corrected. “Yer faither would never have. He was a Marsh. Ye have every much a right tae bear that name as that old man that just ran away, his tail between his buttocks.”
Jane gasped at the crassness of Alistair’s words. “He didnae run away!” she said.
“Oh, but he did!” Alistair said. “He did not leave purely out of anger towards ye and yer sister. He kenned well that all it would take was a misguided word fer his head tae be taken off his shoulders.”
“Alistair!”
“And I would have done the honors, Jane.” Alistair stopped and looked Jane squarely in the eye so she could see how serious he was. “At yer word, I would have run me sword through him. He caused ye much pain. He took yer faither away from ye. If his plan had succeeded, he would have taken yer sister away from ye as well. It was as though he derived joy in making you unhappy. I cannae allow that.” He ran his thumb affectionately over her chin. “I will never allow anyone tae make ye unhappy ever again.”
The moment was poignant with emotion, eyes communicating wordless promises. Jane’s throat caught. She had almost lost this magnificent being who loved her, cherished her. Who was willing to die for her. In a bid to lighten the emotion, she asked, “Even a butcher, then?”
That took Alistair by surprise. “What?” he said. His eyebrow raised. Jane started to walk again, and Alistair fell in step. “Should a butcher make me unhappy with the price he quotes for a leg of hog, would you kill him then?”
Alistair chuckled. “Immediately. Without thinking.”
“You are a brute,” Jane said in dramatic disapproval.
“Ye are the ardent lover of a brute. And I think you have nae come tae terms with the life of a laird’s woman. Ye must leave yer provincial English life behind, dear Jane!”
“The English life is not provincial!” Jane countered.
Alistair gave her look and motioned to their surroundings. “Are ye sure?”
The church was the only beautiful structure in view. The rest of the buildings were old, and some were dilapidated.
“Well… well…” Jane started. “This is not how it is everywhere. This town just happens tae be…”
“Tae be what, Jane March?”
Jane sighed and said nothing.
“Back tae our former line of discourse,” Alistair said, “ye will have nay contact with butchers and the like unless ye want tae. The servants tend tae such things. The meat is brought tae the castle in heaps. And only when the warriors are too occupied tae hunt game.”
“Alistair, why are we talking about butchers when you have just survived a fight?”
“The word you seek is ‘won,’ me lass, nae ‘survived.’”
“True,” Jane said. And then she stopped so Alistair could stop as well. “Thank you for defending my honor. No one has ever defended my honor before.”
