Maid for the Knight (Irvines of Drum Book 3) Read online

  “Ye will be leaving for London once again?” The worry in Elizabeth’s voice was evident and not unfounded. It was not the safest place for a Scotsman to be, and with the new king taking the throne, there was no knowing how he would greet their northern neighbors. Aside from keeping King James hostage, Henry IV had treated him very well. Would his son do the same?

  “I must, my love. Ye ken Scotland needs its king and as long as his uncle is regent, that shall not happen.”

  “But many lords and lairds have been held captive by defying the regent to save the king,” Elizabeth replied with a shaky voice.

  Robert stroked Elizabeth’s cheek and frowned. “’Tis a risk worth taking. Nothing shall change for us if we do nothing. Dinnae ye fash.”

  Matilda watched silently and chewed her bottom lip, having more on her mind than any of them could ever know. She held secrets, dark ones that had plagued her for over a year, ones she could never tell a living soul lest she fear becoming outcast by the ones she considered her kin. If only the captured king was her only concern in this world.

  “Are ye well?” Reginald asked with concern as he looked down at her with his eyes the color of the sky on cloudless summer day. Many said her eyes resembled the sky just before a storm, a subtle color laced with gray. But his were the purest of blue she had ever seen and despite the creases of worry in their corners, his gaze secretly made her heart hammer in her chest. If he knew her secret, would he refuse to ever set his gaze upon her ever again?

  “Och, aye. I am simply fashed for ye all. There has been too much danger as of late, and Stephan Irvine still hasnae been found since he attacked Mary the Yule before last. I feel as if our enemies are everywhere.”

  “I ken where the bastard is,” William growled. “I never stopped searching for the man who attempted to harm my wife and child. He resides on Douglas lands. They are surrounded by Keith lands and he cannae leave, but we cannae reach him without starting a war. I will find him one day, Tilda. He will suffer for all he did to her, I vow.” Nodding, Matilda licked her lips as she remembered the day all too clearly. A Yuletide tournament had been planned to find an appropriate match for the young Marjorie Douglas, who had been visiting Drum for the Yuletide with her father in hopes of having a match with William or Reginald. Neither man wished to wed her, but insulting a Black Douglas was the same as insulting royalty. The tournament had been meant to appease them, but only more trouble ensued.

  Stephan was an Irvine through his mother, but his father had been the brother of Archibald Douglas. When his father was cast out of Douglas lands for a deed Archibald had in fact done, their family moved to Irvine lands where they were welcomed and cared for. Stephan had been childhood friends with Mary until he became ill and changed.

  During the Yule of 1411, he had offered for Mary’s hand, most unsuccessfully. When she agreed to marry William instead, Stephan retaliated by writing to Mary’s brother, James Hamilton, Laird of Cadzow, stating that she had been mistreated by the Irvine Clan and informed him of the bairn she carried while unmarried. When James arrived in a rage, he found Mary and William in a most compromising position, leading to Mary being taken away to a kirk which nearly caused a war to break out between the Irvines and Hamiltons.

  While at the kirk, Stephan tracked her down and attempted to force himself upon her before dragging her down to Douglas lands to wed her against her will. Fortunately, William and James got there first, but Stephan fled and had yet to be seen since. No rest could be had for Robert, William, or James until Stephan was brought to justice. Now, the Douglases were a constant threat to the Irvines, and Matilda had not had any rest since the day they left Drum and the missives began arriving, upending her very existence and forcing her to keep secrets from everyone around her.

  “Matilda?” Elizabeth’s voice drifted to her and she blinked, shaking away the dark thoughts once again clouding her mind. “Are ye unwell? I dinnae ken where yer mind is as of late.”

  Still rocking wee Alexander in her arms, Matilda passed him over to Elizabeth and shook her head. “Aye. I am well, Lizzie. My mind was simply wandering.”

  “Oh… were ye thinking of that handsome messenger who keeps bringing ye all those mysterious missives? Or, mayhap the man writing the missives?” Elizabeth asked with a gleam in her eyes as she rocked her bairn.

  “What? Of course not!” The mention of her frequent missives made her grow pink in the cheeks, not wishing to discuss their contents with another living soul.

  “Missives?” Reginald asked and shot her an odd look. “A man has been sending ye missives? And… who is this handsome messenger? Ye find Eadan to be a handsome man? I suppose he is… if ye prefer soft lads to grown men.”

  Crinkling her brow, Matilda shot Reginald a curious look. He seemed somehow unsettled and she hoped he would not start asking more questions.

  Gripping the long, silver chain around her neck, Matilda ran her fingers up and down its small links, feeling the pendant nestled between her bosom. Never had she truly known what the necklace meant until now. It was the only piece of her true identity she had ever had, and now that she understood its meaning, Matilda feared removing it, or allowing others to see it. Fortunately, tugging on its chain was a well-ingrained habit that nobody seemed to question.

  “I… I never said Eadan was handsome. I mean, he is, aye, but what does that matter?” Matilda asked slowly, trying to keep the subject away from the missives.

  Robert nodded toward the door and narrowed his eyes. “Speaking of the devil…” Turning her head, Matilda watched as Eadan walked into the chamber, giving a respectable bow before addressing the room.

  “My laird. My lady.” Looking at Matilda, Eadan winked his moss green left eye and sent her a crooked smile. “Tilda.” Blushing, Matilda smiled and nodded her head, but she couldn’t help using her peripheral vision to sneak a glance at Reginald, who still stood beside her. The scowl on his face made her bite back a grin. She wasn’t daft enough to believe him jealous, but he certainly preferred to be her main focus of attention.

  “Greetings, Eadan. Have ye a missive for me?” Robert asked, stepping forward.

  “Aye, my laird. From James Hamilton, Laird of Cadzow.” Handing the sealed missive to Robert, Eadan then pulled another missive from his pouch. “And one for the bonnie lass who seems to have more than one admirer,” Eadan said and waggled his brows.

  Stomach sinking and smile fading, Matilda put out a shaky hand and took the missive from Eadan. Looking at the familiar seal, she gripped the silver chain around her next once more and swallowed.

  “Is that…” Looking over her shoulder, Reginald narrowed his eyes as he observed the seal. “A Douglas seal?”

  “Aye, Matilda has been receiving some rather frequent and lengthy letters from someone from the Douglas Clan. She willnae tell me who sends them, and she never replies. Yet, they continue to arrive,” Eadan added. Matilda wanted to scowl at him, but Eadan was innocently ignorant of the contents of the letters, as well as Matilda’s reluctance to speak of them.

  Everyone in the room went silent as they stared at her, seemingly awaiting answers. Her pulse quickened and her mind raced to think of any reason aside from the truth. Looking at Reginald, she saw the hint of something new in his eyes. Disappointment? She wasn’t certain. The Douglases had become an enemy to the Irvines ever since their visit to Drum. Archibald Douglas’ daughter, Marjorie, had stayed behind to foster with Elizabeth and learn to run a house like a true lady, and that was the only safeguard the Irvines had against an attack from her father. Certainly, everyone was concerned about these missives. If they truly knew who wrote her and why, they would send her back to Keith lands where she had been adopted and raised, or worse, cast her out forever.

  Sighing, Matilda decided the truth would need to be told soon, but not yet, not when she was surrounded by so many people. “Aye, ’tis a man from Clan Douglas. He was here during the Yule before last and became interested in me. Though the missives have continued
to arrive, I have not responded to any.”

  “I vow that is the truth,” Eadan replied. “Ye ken all missives come in and out through me, my laird. She has not sent any, though a new one arrives every month for her.”

  “Tilda…” Elizabeth stepped forward and frowned. “This is most concerning. A man shouldnae pester a woman so. ’Tis unseemly. Why have ye not put a stop to it? Do ye wish us to speak on yer behalf?”

  “Och, nay. I am all right. They will stop soon. I am certain of it.” No lies had been told. Indeed, the letters were from a man from the Douglas Clan who had a strong interest in her, and she had never responded. Hopefully they would leave it for now.

  “Cannae ye blame him? Tilda is the bonniest lass in all of Scotland.” When Eadan looked at her and gave her a wink, she swore she heard a low growl coming from Reginald beside her.

  Robert cleared his throat and stepped closer to the door. “I trust ye will ask for assistance if ever ye need it, Tilda, and ye ken ye shall receive it. As for me, I have received a missive from James Hamilton declaring his help in riding to London to persuade the new English king to release our King James. Once he arrives at Dunnottar, we shall all ride together and pray enough lords and lairds turn up to make a difference. Scotland cannae survive under the rule of its greedy regent much longer.”

  With polite nods, the men all departed the room, but the look Reginald sent her over his shoulder had not gone unnoticed by anyone. There was a new odd tension radiating off him that had not been there before his time in London, and Matilda wondered what had happened to make him so ornery. It was not like him to be full of scowls rather than smiles.

  “Matilda Keith. Ye had better tell me what has been going on with ye and this Douglas man. Are ye planning on eloping and leaving me here?” Elizabeth seemed half-serious and the concern on her face told Matilda she truly wished to know. After all they had been through in their lives, Elizabeth deserved honesty.

  “Lizzie. I shall tell ye everything. But first, I do believe ye should sit down for what I am about to say. I wouldnae want ye to drop wee Alexander on his wee head.”

  Dropping her brow, Elizabeth did as she was told and slowly sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze locked on Matilda. “What is it, Tilda?”

  Taking a deep, steadying breath, Matilda walked over to the bed and sat beside her greatest companion and sister, clutched at her necklace, and pulled out the pendant so Elizabeth could look at it closely for the first time since they were wee children. When her eyes grew wide and her cheeks turned red, Matilda felt her breath hitch before she began to explain. “It all started during the Yuletide before last…”

  “How did ye arrive at Drum before we did?” Robert asked Reginald as they stepped into his solar.

  “I heard of the news before ye did. I was in a tavern. I have told ye many times before. If ye wish to ken the truth, ye need to ken the people. Ye lairds always prefer to mingle with yer own kind to make alliances, and that is all well, but ’tis the common folks and servants who hear all the secrets first. As soon as I heard the king had died, I tried to find ye and couldnae. I decided it would be best to ride for Drum. I kenned ye would be shortly behind.”

  Nodding, Robert accepted his answer and ran a hand through his short dark beard as he often did when he was in deep thought. Breaking the seal from the Laird of Cadzow, Robert skimmed the missive once more and nodded. “James should be well on his way to Dunnottar. Once he arrives, we shall all ride to London and petition the new king to release our King James. We shall be met with resistance, but if enough lords congregate, mayhap he shall see reason.”

  “Not bloody likely,” Reginald scoffed, walking over to the window and looking down at the inner bailey where men and women milled about, making progress on their daily chores. His mind wandered along with his eyes as he skimmed the area looking for that familiar glimpse of bonnie red curls and a slim waist cinched by a bodice cut low enough to see a fair amount of creamy white breasts just peaking over the top. The sun was high and white clouds floated in a gray sky the same shade as Matilda’s eyes, new leaves shaking with the early spring breeze. The apple trees dropped white blossoms that resembled snow, but he imagined the scent would be sweet and floral like the lass he sought out.

  Spotting her at last, Reginald squinted into the distance and watched as she bent over the garden area with Elizabeth and Marjorie, picking fresh herbs, no doubt on the orders of Cook. Not that one ordered Matilda about in any way. The lass was headstrong and took suggestions, not demands, yet she worked hard and had assimilated with his clan seamlessly. She was well respected and had earned her right to it.

  “Would ye stop yer wandering mind and eye for a cursed moment so we can discuss the future of Scotland, Reg?” he heard his brother say behind him, his voice gruff with aggravation. “Court the lass or allow another man to. Ye cannae spend yer days lollygagging about. I ken why ye left London in a hurry, and it was not to be the first with the news.”

  Turning on his heels, Reginald tugged on his brown leather surcoat and grimaced at his brother. “I dinnae ken what ye are blithering on about.”

  “So, ye arenae staring down at Matilda as she works in the garden, as she does most days?” His brother raised a brow, and William slapped his thigh and let out a whoop of laughter.

  “Ye have an eye out for Tilda? Fair warning, Reg. I have kenned her since she was a bairn kicking in a basket. I daresay I have kenned her the longest of any living person. She is a force to reckon with. She willnae have ye.”

  Indignation roiled through him, as well as self-doubt, a feeling he was not at all used to. Never had Reginald been rejected by a woman and never would he be. “Then it is most fortunate that I have no designs for the lass. I was simply admiring the fair view of our lands.”

  “Aye, and her fair mounds.” Robert let out a mighty roar of laughter but was met only by blank stares from Reginald and William, who did not care for his ribald humor.

  “Dare I tell my sister that ye refer to her companion’s breasts as ‘fair mounds’?” William raised a brow, and Reginald folded his arms to prevent from boxing his brother’s ears.

  “Have ye both lost yer wits? ’Twas a damned fine jest, and ye ken it. I have eyes for naught but my Lizzie. I suppose I am simply in the wrong company for such a jest, seeing as one of ye is her brother and the other is in love with her.”

  Shock the size of a fist lodged in Reginald’s throat, causing him to cough and pound on his chest until his eyes watered. “Ye have gone mad, Brother. I am certainly only concerned for her well-being. Is it not odd that she continues to receive these missives from a Douglas man? What sort of nobleman continues to write to a woman who doesnae respond? It borders on obsessive, and I for one care enough about the lass to worry over her safekeeping. If ye havenae noticed, she and I have been involved in one too many schemes over the years, and I ken what sort of mischief the lass can get into. I also ken she takes few things seriously, as do I. So, if I am seriously worried over her well-being, there is a fair reason for it.”

  The men went silent and William pursed his lips while he listened. “It does concern me. I ken we are concerned about the new king and must ride to London, but something feels amiss with Tilda. She wouldnae allow a man to harass her while she stayed silent. I would expect her to write back with words foul enough to make him wither into dust or to string him along for the sheer pleasure of the chase. But ignoring him outright? That doesnae seem like Tilda.”

  Turning to look down at the garden once more, he saw her again, this time standing up as she readjusted the linen kerchief that she used to tie her hair back while working. Eadan stood beside her, one hand placed on her hip as if he was contemplating a kiss. Though Matilda smiled and engaged the man, Reginald saw the slight bend of her back as she arched away from his touch. She was not interested in the man, but William was correct. She enjoyed a flirtatious encounter and though Eadan was safe enough, whoever wrote those missives may be persistent enough to become mo
re forceful.

  As if feeling his gaze on her, Matilda looked up and caught him staring down, raising a curious brow at him from below. He was a knight of Scotland, and here he was, caught staring at a lass like a wee inexperienced lad.

  “Mayhap ye are on to something, after all.” Folding his hands behind his back, Robert slowly walked over to the window and looked down, as well. “These arenae safe times. Stephan is still on the loose, nobody can find the Black Douglas, and now that there is a new king, Archibald’s influence may be challenged. He has become far too powerful. He controls much of Scotland, owns too much land, too many titles, and his brother, the Red Douglas, owns the lands surrounding Dunnottar where ye believe Stephan is hiding.”

  “Aye, ’tis why I left Mary and wee William behind at Dunnottar,” William responded, popping his knuckles. “Until Stephan Irvine is found, I cannae allow her to travel without me by her side. She is safe at home with the protection of our people.”

  “Agreed. I believe Elizabeth and the people of Drum are safe as well, as long as we have The Douglas’ daughter here in our care. Marjorie is still a wee hellion, but she is learning that hard work is required to be a true lady. She works in the garden and kitchens with the women and attends when Elizabeth goes to town to serve as a midwife or healer to the tenants.” Robert took a deep breath and turned toward Reginald. “However, this Douglas man has me concerned. Mayhap ’tis a trap. If Stephan is on Douglas lands and serving Archibald, these missives could be a ploy to lure her out of Drum and force a ransom, or worse. Nobody can be trusted. She is a smart lass, but that may not be enough. She needs to be protected until we ken more about these missives and the man sending them.”

  “I agree,” William said, nodding.