Bruce laughed again and shook his head. “Do you know the truly appalling part, my lady? I’ve been playing chess since I was a lad, and MacLean here just learned. Still he’s one of the best players I’ve ever competed against.”
“I should like to know how to play this ‘Game of Kings,’ isn’t that what you called it?” she asked Bruce innocently, although the hint of mischief in her gaze told him she knew exactly why he’d made that point to her earlier. Game of Kings—hebeing the king.
The Earl of Carrick was every bit as bold as she’d heard. She liked it, although she would never admit as much to her father. He would die before he saw a Bruce on the throne.
Bruce’s equally mischievous smile told Margaret she was right about his intent.
She turned to MacLean. “Perhaps you would teach me one day?”
The surprise in those skin-prickling blue eyes, and the sudden silence in the room, told her that once again she’d done something wrong.
Devil take it, what is it this time?She’d barely been at Stirling Castle for a few hours, but already it was clear it was a long way from Garthland Tower.
No matter, soon enough she would find her footing. Margaret never doubted that for a moment.
3
EVERYONE IS STARINGat us,” Brigid whispered as they entered the Hall a short while later.
Margaret had noticed the sudden silence in the bustling room and felt the eyes turned on them as well, but her reaction was the opposite of her friend’s. Used to presiding over many tables at Garthland as hostess, she did not shy from attention. Actually, she rather liked it. Entertaining—beingentertaining—was part of her duties as chatelaine, and she made sure no one left the castle without enjoying themselves. It helped that it came naturally to her.
Unfortunately, the same could not be said of her friend. Brigid was shy and reserved. Two words that weren’t likely ever to be applied to her, Margaret thought with amusement.
After the initial pause, conversation had returned, so Margaret was able to reply to her friend in a normal tone as they wound their way through the crowd in search of her father and two eldest brothers, Dougal and Duncan. Given her clan’s importance, she knew their seats would be near the dais.
Taking her friend’s arm, she drew her tightly against her side. “Of course they are! Isn’t it wonderful? We have made an impression already. We are going to have such fun, Brige.”
Brigid, however, did not share Margaret’s ease at being the center of attention, and her friend’s expression suggested that fun was definitely not something she was having.
Margaret gave Brigid’s arm an encouraging squeeze. “Oh come now, Brige, smile. It’s nothing to worry about. We are newcomers. It’s only natural that they are curious.”
Brigid didn’t look like she believed her. “Perhaps we should have worn veils as Beth suggested?”
The serving girl who’d been assigned to help them dress for the feast had been shocked when Margaret had said they would just be wearing circlets.
Margaret hadn’t paid her much mind. She only wore a veil to church, and even then she didn’t like it. But gazing around the room, she saw what Brigid had: they were the only women who were bareheaded.
“So we can blend in with all the others?” Margaret gave her friend a cheeky grin. “What fun would it be if we were all the same? This way we shall stand out.”
“I think we are doing that anyway with our gowns,” Brigid said glumly.
Margaret had to admit, the finery of the ladies at court far exceeded her expectations. She’d never seen such an array of luxurious fabrics and fine embroidery. But they were justgowns. Pretty ornament was still just that: ornament.
“You look beautiful, Brige. You could be wearing a sackcloth and you would still outshine everyone in this room. Whether garbed in velvet and jewels or in a woolen kirtle and plaid, it’s what’s inside that matters.” Brigid gave her a look as if she didn’t know where she got her strange ideas. “You will have your pick of suitors. Have you seen anyone that interests you yet?”
As soon as her father had told her of his plan to bring her to Stirling to secure an alliance with John Comyn, Margaret had begged him to let her bring Brigid along with her as her companion. Lord knew there were precious few men to choose from as potential husbands near their home. Except for Margaret’s brothers, of course, but they didn’t count. This was the perfect opportunity to find someone for Brigid, and Margaret wasn’t going to waste it.
Heat rose to her friend’s cheeks, and her gaze lowered. “We’ve only just arrived, Maggie.”
“Yet we’ve met a dozen young men already.” The image of a tall, dirty-blond-haired warrior rose to her mind, but she quickly pushed it aside. He might have attracted her attention, but her interest must be fixed elsewhere. “Although I hope you have not set your sights on the Earl of Carrick, as he is already wed.”
Brigid let out a sharp laugh, which had been Margaret’s intent. “You are horrible, Maggie. Can you imagine what Father and Tristan would say?”
Brigid’s family was just as staunchly loyal to King John Balliol as Margaret’s, meaning that none of the men they’d met today, assuming they were with Bruce, were suitable suitors.
“I imagine exactly what my father and brothers would say. ‘Are you out of your wee mind, lass? I’d sooner see you marching down the fiery aisle of Hell to wed Lucifer himself,’ ” she said in a mock imitation of her father’s voice.
As they neared the dais, she could see that she’d been right: her family was seated at the table just below to the left.
