Authors: Mary McCall
"Not good enough. Keeping a promise is one thing, but keeping a wife is another. I do not believe you would mistreat Lady Faith, but I like her and want her happy. She is a jewel of a woman and deserves someone who will recognize her value."
Something about the gleam in King Henry's eyes made Brendan realize the man knew at least some of the truth about Faith. He decided to be honest and not hedge. "I do not believe Lady Faith is truly ugly, but even if she were the most hideous woman on earth, I would still wed her. During our encounter, I discovered her to be a courageous woman of spirit and sharp wit. She will do honor to me and my clan."
"She gazed right at you, didn't she? Usually bows her head, so people cannot see her eyes." King Henry rocked on his heels and grinned. "You possess sharp sight to see past her disguise, Laird Sutherland. You have also judged her character well."
"Then you will approve the match?"
"I shall consider your request. Your valor and leadership are known to me. Alexander considers you a loyal vassal. I believe you would make the lady a good husband and protector, but I would hear her opinion. I want her happy."
Brendan clenched his jaw. If the king denied his request, he would have to steal the lass, because he already decided he wanted her. And damn if that wasn't an irritant. He didn't know Faith well enough to want her that badly. It was curiosity. Aye, that was the problem. He wanted to see the woman under the disguise.
"There are two complications," he admitted. "One is minor. The lass thinks to become a nun."
The king's eyes widened. "A nun?"
Brendan nodded.
King Henry laughed so hard he had to wipe his eyes. "No one has presented me with such a good jest in months. The lady has not the temperament to last a week in a convent. I leave it to you to woo her into marriage, though she is a loyal subject and would wed you if I ordered it. What is the other problem?"
"Baron Hawkhurst. I killed his brother, Rawlins, in battle."
"That is an obstacle, though not insurmountable. Leland places high value on his sister."
"With respect, Your Grace, if Baron Hawhurst placed value on his sister, her hands would not bear the calluses of a field serf. Nor would she find the need for that disguise or seek me out to help her flee to a convent."
Henry rubbed his chin with a finger, then peered at Brendan. "Baron Hawkhurst arrived this morn without her. I wish to see the lady and judge for myself. I shall handle her brother if I consent to this union. When do you return to Scotland?"
"'Tis a twelve-day journey if we travel hard. I wish to return to my clan by the harvest moon."
"That gives us little more than a week. I hope you find enough to amuse you at my court. You will join me at my table tonight, and you and your men will accompany me on the morrow's hunt."
"Your Grace honors us."
King Henry smiled. "'Tis the truth, Laird Sutherland, I suspect you and Lady Faith will amuse me. I wish you to do me a favor though."
"What would that be?" Brendan asked. Something about the king's tone and manner suggested pure mischief.
"Most of Lady Faith's disguise, I can tolerate, but if I give my consent, I wish you to rid her of that damn wart with all haste."
~ * ~
The Highlanders created a stir when they entered the great hall. Their sheer sizes, along with their rugged, scarred features and aloof manners, made them the focal point of every eye and the subject of every conversation.
Word rapidly spread that the laird, who was the biggest and fiercest of the bunch, had traveled to England on orders from the Scottish King Alexander to wed an Englishwoman. Further rumors claimed that King Henry approved the dictate.
Mothers shoved marriageable daughters behind their backs in an attempt to shield their precious angels from view. English warriors scrutinized the Highlanders, looking for weakness. Finding none, they sent the newcomers scorching glares.
Indifferent to the commotion they caused, Brendan led his men across the chamber to stand near the center of the far wall. He eyed the courtiers with mild amusement. The women looked as if they would like to flee, while the men looked as if they would like to fight, but were afraid.
"Well, laird," Roland said. "They are a homely lot of lassies to be sure, but if you see one you prefer, we'll be swearing to Lady Ranald that you could not find her friend."
Michael glowered. "Lady Faith is better than any of these lassies."
"Aye," Tormey concurred. "Lady Faith has the courage not to hide behind her mother's back."
"True. Our Lady Faith has spirit and will do clan Sutherland proud," Luthias declared.
"She is a fighter too," Jamie added.
Brendan cocked an amused brow at Roland. "Have you been answered sufficiently, or should we await words of wisdom from Cleit?"
Cleit thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "You gave Lady Faith your plaid, so she already belongs to us. I'm thinking we should keep her."
"But the lass has a wart, laird," Roland persisted. "'Tis a mark of evil. Surely you should find a wench without such a sign."
"Lady Faith is already mine, Roland." Brendan's tone made it clear the matter was closed. "But since you seem eager to scout the field, mayhap we shall find an English rose for you to transplant."
Roland shuddered. "May Thor's hammer save me from such a fate."
Brendan shook his head at his first commander's heretical prayer. He tended to forget the man's Viking roots because Roland only reverted to such oaths when truly shaken. Brendan's father had brought Roland home after a raid on a Viking settlement when he was a lad of nine. He had been a problem at first but after several months had proven quick-witted and loyal. By saving Brendan's mother during an attack from the Clan Gilmore, Roland established himself as a Sutherland. Brendan's father claimed Roland as a second son. Brendan considered him a trusted brother.
A young Englishman with dark, brown hair and forest-green eyes glared at Brendan from across the hall with greater ferocity than the rest of his peers. Brendan had no doubt he was being measured for a burying box. Something about the man seemed familiar. Then it dawned on him that the man must be Lady Faith's brother Leland.
King Henry entered. After mingling with his guests, he called for food. The courtiers filed to their seats. A young page brought word to Brendan that he was to dine at the high table apart from his men, who were directed to one of the other long tables assigned to lesser guests.
Surprised to discover his seat beside the king when so many of the monarch's loyal subjects were present, Brendan took his place and prepared to endure a boring evening. The meal progressed for over an hour with mundane conversation, musicians, and acrobats for entertainment. Wine and ale flowed freely, as servants on horseback served course after course. The flagrant waste of good foodstuffs disgusted Brendan. His clan wasn't poor by any means, but they certainly weren't given over to indulgence and dissipation.
King Henry stood and raised his goblet. "A toast to my honored guest, Laird Sutherland."
All the guests, except Leland, rose and drained their goblets.
The monarch slammed his goblet upon the table. "I do not believe you have met my favored guest, Hawkhurst. You insult me by not raising your cup."
Red-faced, Leland stood and took a sip from his goblet. His swallow appeared laborious, as if it cost him true effort not to choke.
King Henry resumed his seat, and the guests followed his cue. Then the king's shrewd gaze fell to his petulant baron. "I do not see your sister, Hawkhurst. Where is Lady Faith?"
"She remained behind to prepare the keep for my bride."
Henry returned his attention to his meal and took the last bite from a pheasant leg. Then he off-handedly gestured with the bone toward Leland. "I desire Lady Faith's presence here. Send for her."
Leland bowed to his king. "'Twill be done as Your Grace wishes."
Turning to Brendan, King Henry grinned. "You will enjoy Lady Faith. She is one of the few people who possess both the skill and the gall to beat me at chess."
Brendan decided it was a damned good thing Leland didn't have his dagger in his hand, because the English king might have needed defending from one of his own barons. Brendan saluted King Henry with his goblet. "Your Grace's skill at strategy is well known, so the lass must be remarkable indeed. I look forward to her presence."
~ * ~
If Leland didn't arrive soon, Faith would throttle him. He knew she hated the games of court. She had much to do if she was going to prepare Hawkhurst for Leland's young bride before fleeing with the Highlanders. Her brother's summons made no sense. He had said only for her to come to court and await him.
"Settle down, milady," Noreen chided. "'Tis hard enough to get your hair to hold a braid as fine and slick as it is. Your fidgeting makes it near impossible."
Faith tried to hold still as she sat on a stool in the plush chamber allotted to her in the east wing of the king's residence, a long-time honor bestowed upon her since she was eight summers and beat the monarch at a game of chess when he'd visited her father at Hawkhurst. The King had said she had a gift, but she knew she didn't truly perfect her game until much later. "I apologize, Noreen. I know I have been surly too, but I do not like being here. What if Laird Sutherland leaves before Leland lets me return to Hawkhurst? If I leave with him from court, 'twill be obvious. The king may feel compelled to send his men for me. At Hawkhurst I would not be missed for a few days and we would—"
"If Laird Sutherland said he would take you to Scotland, then he'll be taking you," Noreen assured her. "The Almighty kens all the English army could not stop a Highlander who has set his mind to take a wife."
"I am not going to be his wife. I am going to be a nun."
Noreen tugged on Faith's hair.
"Ouch!"
"I ken what you say, lass." Noreen tied off the end of Faith's long braid then placed her hands on her hips. "Now why not do me a favor and leave off the flour?"
"Are there pigs flying outside?" Faith asked, draping a linen cloth over her chest to protect her kirtle.
"Of course not. Pigs cannot fly."
"Well, when they start flying, I shall leave off the flour."
Noreen shook her head and went to get the flour and lamb's wool puff. "You are a stubborn lass."
"My thanks," Faith said cheerfully. "I learned that trait from you."
Noreen slapped a muff full of flour on Faith's face without warning. Faith sneezed, then giggled as she dusted away the excess, making sure a liberal amount also dulled her fine, black hair. Checking her appearance in a flat metal plate, she grinned. "There now. I think I shall do."
"Aye, if you wish to scare wee bairns in the night," Noreen tartly replied. "Men are blind if they cannot see through your disguise."
"'Tis the wart." Faith grimaced at the offensive mark. "They are so superstitious of the evil sign that they do not look closely."
A knock on the door heralded a servant with a message for Faith to wait upon King Henry without delay. Noreen shut the door after bidding the servant to wait.
"Rats!" Faith exclaimed. "Men do complicate things. Leland orders me to await him, yet I cannot ignore the king. What can be keeping Leland?"
"He left with Edrik soon after we arrived."
Worry throbbed in Faith's temple. She pressed her fingers against the spot, trying to ease the tension without wiping away her camouflage. "What if Edrik tells—"
"Do not work yourself into an upset. I told you I'll handle young Leland." Noreen pulled the linen drape from Faith's gown. "Now let's be off. As you said, you cannot keep the king waiting."
With Noreen two steps behind her, Faith followed the servant to the king's great chamber. Upon entering alone, she was surprised to discover she would have a private audience with her monarch.
Faith dropped into a deep curtsey with one knee touching the floor and awaited his cue to rise, a difficult task with her cumbersome padding.
"Ah, Lady Faith." King Henry extended a hand toward her. "Please stand. I have been most impatient for your arrival."
Faith placed her hand in his, accepting his assistance to rise. "'Twas Your Grace who requested my presence? I thought Leland—"
"Your brother carried out my wish to have you come." He placed her hand on his forearm and smiled. "Join me at the game table and be forewarned. I intend to trounce you."
She always enjoyed the king's company. She never felt as if she had to guard her every move around him, which made no sense. One should take greater care around a king. "Is that a warning or an order?"
"A warning, and you are to play your usual competent game." He sighed and shook his head wearily. "The Almighty knows you are one of the few people I can depend upon for a challenge."
Faith sat in the chair the king indicated before the ivory game pieces. As he took his seat across from her, she made her first move.
Henry moved a pawn. "How fares Hawkhurst?"
With little attention to the board, Faith made her move. "Well, Sire. The harvest looks to be bountiful. I was in the midst of preparations for Leland's bride."
The king studied the board, then moved one of his men. "I cannot imagine Hawkhurst ever unprepared under your excellent management."
"Your Grace flatters me." Faith made her play after only a brief glance at the game. Raising her hand, she rubbed her nose. Just as she wished, the king's gaze moved to her wart. He grimaced and quickly looked away. She had to stop herself from grinning at his predictable reaction. "I try to keep things running smoothly. Everything should be perfect for a new bride."