When he took her hand, she felt as if she were choking. He seemed to take an overly long time pressing his lips to it, but that was probably her imagination. As soon as she could politely do so, she tugged her hand from his grip.
“Your grief over your husband’s untimely death must be terrible, dear lady,” his father said. After planting a wet kiss on her cheek that made her skin crawl, he shifted his beady gaze to her daughters. “How are my favorite lassies?”
When he reached for a ringlet of Margaret’s hair, Alison grabbed his wrist. “Excuse us. My brothers are waiting to see them.”
She hurried her daughters past the two Blackadder men and made her way to the high table.
“Lucky lasses, ye have the Douglas good looks,” George said, and winked at her daughters as they took their places beside him. “Next time, I’ll bring ye silver combs to show off your glossy black hair.”
“Why are Patrick Blackadder and his father here?” Alison whispered as she sat on his other side.
“They have a large number of warriors at their command,” George said, “and we need all the support we can muster.”
“Then take them with ye when ye leave.” The sooner they were out of her home the better.
She glanced down the table at Archie, hoping he would notice her daughters, but he was deep in conversation with some of the men.
“I didn’t have a chance to ask before,” she said, turning back to George. “How do our sisters fare?”
“Sybil is full of piss and vinegar, as always,” he said with a grin. “She’s breaking hearts left and right at Court, though she makes no effort to please anyone.”
Alison smiled. Beatrix took after Sybil, whichmostlyreassured her.
“What of Maggie?” she asked, her thoughts turning to the gentle, kind-hearted sister for whom she had named her younger daughter.
“I hear she’s with child again,” George said in a quiet voice.
“So soon?” Poor Maggie had not yet recovered from losing the last babe. Her husband should have waited. Men could be such selfish creatures.
Before she could ask about their youngest sister, Archie’s voice boomed out over the noise of the hall.
“To your horses!”
Men rose from the tables still guzzling their ale, and some grabbed drumsticks and hunks of bread to take with them.
“God preserve me. Can Archie not give the men time to eat?” she said under breath. She had hoped for more time to persuade him.
With her daughters in tow, Alison crossed the hall to the arched doorway to bid goodbye to the Douglas men.
“Lady Alison,” each Douglas warrior said, and dipped his head to her and her daughters as they filed out. Her father and grandfather had required their men to show respect to the females of the family—unlike her husband, who had ridiculed her in front of the household at every opportunity.
Her brothers were the last of the Douglas men to leave. At her signal, her daughters curtsied to them, looking so sweet that they made Alison smile despite her worries. How could Archie look into their faces and not want to move heaven and earth to protect them?
“Don’t forget us,” Alison said as Archie bent to kiss her cheek.
“Next time we’ll speak more about a new husband for ye,” he said.
Before she had a chance to tell him she was never marrying again, he swept out the door without sparing a word or a glance for her daughters.
“If anyone troubles ye, send word to us,” George said, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. “But don’t fret, Allie, the fight will be in Edinburgh. Nothing will happen here.”
***
Two months later…
David had returned to Hume Castle at dawn and crawled into bed after another successful night raid. He felt as if his head had barely hit the pillow when he was awakened by shouts from the courtyard. Judging from the sounds, this was no attack, so he was tempted to roll over and go back to sleep. Instead, he dragged himself out of bed to see what trouble was brewing among his men.
“By the saints,” he hissed when he looked out the arrow-slit window.
