The Renegade's Heart (39 page)

Alexander had sent word to Malcolm and to
Ross, though he had warned Isabella they would not be able to leave
their employ as mercenaries for her nuptials. She wondered whether
Malcolm would be distressed or relieved to learn of the fate of
Ravensmuir.

The only omission was Murdoch’s own brother
Duncan. Stewart had ridden to Seton Manor with all haste, but he
had not yet returned. Isabella resolved to appreciate all she had
and not worry about whatever she did not. Murdoch was healed and
they would be wed. Indeed, she had need of nothing more.

On the joyous day, Isabella donned a new
kirtle, one wrought of palest green and lavishly embroidered with
gold. It was far more elaborate than was usually her taste, but
this was a day for splendor. Even better, it was a gift from the
busy fingers of her sisters, and she felt dressed in their
love.

Eleanor had given the bride a new crimson
belt and slippers from her own trunk of treasures, their
workmanship exotic and rich. Vivienne had favored Isabella with a
new linen chemise, one made of cloth so fine that it might have
been gossamer. Isabella had her hair braided by Elizabeth, who had
a rare talent for the task, and stood tall when her sisters were
done.

When Isabella descended to the hall in all
her finery, she had eyes only for Murdoch. He stood beside
Alexander, so tall and handsome that Isabella’s heart began to
pound in earnest. He had healed so quickly and so well that even
Eleanor was amazed, and he was every measure the knight she had
first glimpsed.

He stepped forward, his eyes sparkling, and
took her hand in his. “Still you will have me?” he teased and
Isabella laughed.

“Yes!” She leaned closer to whisper for his
ears alone. “I do love you so, Murdoch.”

He kissed her hand, his eyes gleaming. “And I
love you, my Isabella.” He winked. “With all my heart, to be sure.”
He grinned when she smiled in surprise at his jest, then tucked her
hand into his elbow.

They walked together through the hall, the
company standing to each side to let them pass. Alexander and
Eleanor fell into step behind them, then all the other wedded
couples in the family followed. Annelise and Elizabeth walked
together, holding hands with the children. They formed a procession
and Isabella’s heart pounded with every step.

Not only did she go to pledge herself to the
man she loved, but all those in Kinfairlie’s bounds came to wish
her well. The route to the chapel was lined with people, people
Isabella had known for years or even for all her life, people who
came to share in her happiness on this day. They wore their best
garb, too, and they bowed as she approached them, many of them
calling good wishes to her.

First in the hall itself were those of
Kinfairlie’s household. Anthony stood at the fore of this group,
and he smiled with pride as he bowed. Moira stood behind him,
mopping away her tears even as she smiled, Vera fast beside her and
sniffling, too.

Every maid and boy who worked within the hall
had come, the line to Kinfairlie’s portal lined with cooks, sauce
makers, and scullery girls. There were maids from the village who
worked in the hall and the gardens, and the line stretched into the
sunlight of the bailey. There were the gatekeepers, sentries,
men-at-arms and guards, Owen the ostler and the stable boys, the
armorer, the sheriff and the gamekeeper. The line flowed beyond
Kinfairlie’s gates where the villagers of Kinfairlie awaited the
procession, their faces filled with a joy that echoed Isabella’s
own feelings.

The baker and his wife, Siobhan, with their
healthy son, then the smith with his wife and apprentices. Isabella
nodded to the miller and his son, Matthew, to Matthew’s wife,
Ceara, who held their infant daughter, to Marjorie the alewife and
Ellen the spinner. There were butchers and eelmongers, those who
ploughed and those who worked silver, all had come to share
Isabella’s happiness.

As the procession passed, those who had
gathered fell into step behind. When Isabella and Murdoch reached
the double portal of Kinfairlie’s chapel, Father Malachy awaited
them in his robes. He smiled at Isabella and indicated the swelling
company behind her with a nod. Isabella turned to face Murdoch and
as he took her hands in his, she looked back, awed by the size of
the crowd that gathered closer.

She was well-loved at Kinfairlie and this was
the legacy of her family and her upbringing. It was a gift no one
could ever take from her and one that she knew would glow in her
heart forever. She turned to face Murdoch and smiled at him,
certain that there was no less love in her future with this
man.

She had never imagined that she might be so
happy as this.

And their days together had only begun.

* * *

Murdoch was puzzled that he had not had a
reply from his brother Duncan. Stewart had been dispatched to take
word to Duncan of the message, and to return the relic to its
rightful place in the treasury of the chapel at Seton Manor.
Murdoch had hoped that Duncan might ride south to witness his
nuptials, or that at least, his brother would send word welcoming
Isabella to live at Seton Manor. He had hoped for a place in his
brother’s household but as the days passed and there was neither
Stewart’s return nor a missive, Murdoch began to fear that the rift
between himself and Duncan would never be healed.

Alexander had discerned his worry and pried
the truth from him. The Laird of Kinfairlie had offered Murdoch
employ here at Kinfairlie, and given the lack of options, Murdoch
had accepted with gratitude. He wished to take Isabella to Seton
Manor, that she might see his home, but when the day of their
marriage arrived with no word from Duncan, Murdoch wondered if the
course was a wise one.

Had Stewart not arrived at Seton Manor?

Had Duncan not been pleased with the return
of the relic? Alexander insisted it could not be so, and Murdoch
wished to believe him. He was thinking on this day that they would
go to Seton Manor, he and Isabella, that he could speak to Duncan
himself. If his brother sent him away, then they would return to
Kinfairlie. But Murdoch would hear the truth from Duncan’s own
lips.

In this moment, though, he had no fear for
the future. He had completed his quest. He stood with the lady he
loved beyond all else, and she pledged herself to him for all time.
There could be nothing wrong in a world in which Isabella’s hand
was within his own, Murdoch was certain of it. He knew that no
matter what obstacle they faced in future, they would overcome it
with ease. They were stronger together than alone, and the
fulfillment of his quest had forged an eternal bond between
them.

He liked the ring that Tynan had given to him
in the caverns of Kinfairlie, for it was heavy silver and
beautifully embellished. The entire family had caught their breath
at the sight of it and when he told the tale of it, Murdoch saw
their relief at Tynan’s rest. They told him what they knew of the
ring, and he thought it most fitting that his Isabella should wear
the ring given by Merlyn to his Ysabella.

Murdoch slid it onto her finger before the
priest, admiring the look of it upon her hand. He watched her as
they made their vows to each other and welcomed the thunder of his
heart as she pledged her troth to him alone.

Forever.

When the priest made his blessing, Murdoch
impulsively kissed Isabella. This was met with much approval from
the lady in question, whose sparkling gaze hinted that she too was
anxious for their wedding night. The gathered company hooted and
shouted with such approval that Isabella laughed aloud. Murdoch
kissed her again and swung her around in his arms, much to the
delight of all who watched.

Alexander raised a hand for silence. “There
is one who would speak on this day, before we return to the hall to
celebrate.”

“Who would speak?” Isabella asked. “Who would
protest such merriment?”

Alexander cast her a smile. “One who would
add to it, I expect.”

Murdoch could make no more sense of this than
Isabella apparently did, and they turned as one to scan the crowd.
Murdoch saw him then, his own brother walking closer even as he
drew back his hood.

Stewart strode behind Duncan, smiling
broadly. “We have been here these four days!” he shouted. “My lord
Duncan wished to surprise you.”

“And surprised I am!” Murdoch replied, seeing
his brother’s smile and knowing all was well. “This is my brother,
Laird Duncan of Seton Manor!”

The assembly hollered and clapped in
appreciation, even as Duncan caught Murdoch in a tight hug. “I
feared you would not return,” he whispered, his voice husky. “I
feared I had sent you to your death and that those words would
haunt me for all my days and nights.”

“It is the love of two brothers that stands
the test of time,” Murdoch insisted.

Duncan pulled back and there were tears in
his eyes as he surveyed Murdoch. “I should never have doubted that
you would not only succeed, but win another treasure on the
journey.” He bowed to Isabella who blushed, but did not drop her
gaze. “You always were one to exceed expectation.”

Murdoch dared to ask what he most wished to
know. “I would bring my lady wife to Seton Manor, that she might
see my home,” he said, his words thick. “If it suits you well,
brother.”

“It suits me very well,” Duncan said. “And
that is why I have brought you a gift for your nuptials.”

Murdoch frowned for he did not understand.
Duncan, though, turned to the assembly and addressed them, his
voice carrying to them all. “I thank you all for the good care you
have given to my brother, and to the wife you have surrendered to
his care. The love of a woman who is all I have heard Isabella to
be, and the weight of her hand in his, is truly a prize for my
brother to savor for the rest of his life. I see the fondness with
which you regard this lady so, before Murdoch takes her to Seton
Manor to live, I would tell you more of this man who has evidently
claimed her heart.”

“We know all we need know of him, sir,” the
smith said with vigor. “He is a man of valor and honor, and one who
keeps his pledge.”

“He is, indeed,” Duncan said. “Though we are
brothers, Murdoch and I have always been as different in nature as
two men could be. When we were boys, I learned to read while he
learned to ride. I studied with my tutors, learning Latin and the
keeping of ledgers, while he trained for his spurs. Indeed, Murdoch
became a knight with such uncommon ease that he might have been
born one.”

The villagers of Kinfairlie applauded at
this.

“But more than this, my brother has an
understanding of the world that I do not. When our father faltered
in his health and the fortunes of our home suffered, it was Murdoch
who named the solution. It was Murdoch who urged my father to
purchase from Tynan of Ravensmuir the hand of the Magdalene, to
ensure that Seton Manor could become a place of pilgrimage. In old
days, there was a well where people came to pray for cures and
Murdoch believed that the relic would remind them of the power of
that place, as well as buttress its strength. It was Murdoch who
saw how to put coin in Seton Manor’s coffers, Murdoch who named the
solution that would succeed.”

Duncan glanced downward. “It was Murdoch who
rode to war to serve my father’s name and his honor, and it was
Murdoch who my father wished to see one last time before he passed
from this earth. My father and Murdoch were two of a kind, two
sides of the same coin, two men who knew how to make their way in
the world and who would defend all who relied upon them. I am the
one so different from both of them, the one more inclined to prayer
and contemplation, the one who would prefer to forget the world of
men and heed only the voice of God.”

“He loved you,” Murdoch said softly and
Duncan smiled.

“He did, but he did not understand me. And I
doubt that I was the only one who wished you had been born the
elder son.”

Murdoch dropped his gaze for his father had
confided precisely thus to him, and it would be disloyal to his
brother to say as much aloud.

“And so it is that the occasion of Murdoch’s
wedding gives me the opportunity to set this matter to rights,”
Duncan said. “For on this day, before all of you as witnesses, I
surrender the seal of Seton Manor and its signet ring to the man
who should be its laird.” He turned and pulled the signet ring from
his finger and offered it to Murdoch, the smaller velvet sack that
held the seal of the manor in his other hand. He smiled.

“But you cannot do this. It is your
legacy...”

“It has been my burden, assumed out of duty.
I am glad to surrender it to one who will be more capable than I
might ever be.” Duncan pushed the ring on to Murdoch’s finger.

“But what of you? What will you do?”

Duncan smiled. “I shall depart this place on
the morrow to follow my own vocation. I shall join the monastery of
Kilgarrow, take my vows and enter the life of contemplation that
has beckoned to me since I first learned to read.”

“Are you certain of this, Duncan?”

“More certain than I have been of any one
thing in all my life.” Duncan glanced at Isabella and smiled. “As
certain as you are of your bride.”

“That is no small measure,” Murdoch said,
unable to keep the joy from surging through him. “I thank you!” He
caught his brother close and hugged him tightly, fiercely glad that
he had a home to offer to his Isabella. She smiled at him from
behind Duncan, her delight in their situation most clear, then
Alexander raised his voice.

“All hail Murdoch Seton, the new Laird of
Seton Manor!”

“All hail!” roared the people of Kinfairlie
in unison.

Alexander turned and beckoned. The crowd
parted and Owen led a black destrier toward the happy couple, a
massive stallion with a gleaming coat and bright eyes.