The Snow White Bride (9 page)

A
lexander heard the horses and would have thought little of it, had Eleanor not started in such alarm. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wide, and her fingers tightened upon his. He looked at her just as the portal
opened, heard her catch her breath, and saw the color drain from her face.

Then she pivoted to face Father Malachy anew. Alexander knew he did not imagine that her hand trembled within his, though she stood tall and straight.

He glanced back then and his own lips thinned at the new arrivals. It was the Black Douglas clan, the oddly fair Alan at the fore of the party. There was something uncanny about Alan, more than the pallor of his eyes or the strange fair blond of his hair. Just the sight of him made people awkward.

Alan’s party marched noisily into the chapel, sparing no respect for the service in progress. Alan smiled at the sight of Eleanor, though his was not a kind smile. It was a smile that put Alexander in mind of hungry wolves and he pulled Eleanor closer to his side. Rhys and Erik followed Alexander’s gaze and eased their wives away from the center of the chapel.

Alan cast his helm and gloves to a squire, then made his way through the chapel. The peasants fell out of his path, and muttering followed in his wake. He pushed his way between Erik and Rhys, neither of whom granted him any quarter, then reached for Eleanor’s elbow. How did he know her?

Eleanor never glanced up, but she pulled her arm abruptly out of his reach.

“Well met, sister,” Alan said, interrupting the priest.

“Is that the truth of it?” Eleanor murmured.

“Hardly well met at all,” Alexander said, wondering at the link between these two. Were they siblings? “Have you no respect for the divine offices?”

“Earthly matters are of greater import in this moment,”
Alan said, then seized Eleanor’s left hand, lifting it so that the light played in the gem Alexander had just placed upon her finger. “Ah, I see that I interrupt nuptial pledges.” His smile turned cruel as he studied Eleanor. “I always knew that you were a shrewd bitch, but this is cunning beyond expectation.”

Alexander’s sisters gasped as one. Rhys and Erik stepped forward at the insult offered to Alexander’s lady. Father Malachy caught his breath that such language would be used in church, but none had a chance to respond.

Alexander had already struck Alan. His fist landed solidly upon Alan’s nose. Alexander was not dissatisfied to hear a bone crack beneath his blow. Alan fell back, blood erupting from one nostril, and no one stepped forward to aid him.

Alan steadied himself and glanced over the watchful company. Eleanor said nothing, though her gaze flicked between the men, seemingly missing no nuance of response. Alan’s men made to move forward, but Alexander’s men blocked their progress.

Alan fingered his nose, which was swelling even as it reddened. He glared at Alexander. “I had always thought that you were not overly keen of wit.”

“And I have always found you to be devoid of chivalry, although this incident is far beyond anticipation,” Alexander retorted. “No one speaks to a noblewoman so coarsely upon my lands, much less in a chapel reliant upon my protection.”

“Amen,” said Father Malachy.

Alan only smirked. He straightened, then eyed Alexander anew. “Let me grant you some counsel, neighbor, and save you from your own error before it is fully made.”

“I do not welcome your counsel.”

“You should.” Alan snatched at Eleanor’s hand. He pulled the ring from her finger, even as she gasped in outrage, then cast it at Alexander. Alexander caught the ring, and in that same moment, Alan hauled Eleanor to his side so quickly that she stumbled. “Keep your bauble, neighbor. This bride is fatal to claim.”

“No!” Eleanor protested, and pulled her hand from Alan’s grasp.

“The choice is not yours to make,” Alan said with a snarl. He grasped her hand again and Eleanor winced as his grip was clearly harsh.

“Is Eleanor your sister?”

“Nay.”

“Is she your niece or daughter?”

Alan granted Eleanor that unpleasant smile. “She is the widow of my brother, Ewen.”

Alexander blinked at this morsel of news, then glared at Alan. “Then the choice most certainly
is
the lady’s to make,” he said. He seized Alan’s wrist even as that man glared at him in defiance. Alexander was younger than Alan and he did not doubt that he was stronger. Indeed, he tightened his grip steadily upon the other man’s wrist until Alan’s grasp upon Eleanor was released.

Alan swore.

Eleanor pulled herself free with haste and the red mark upon her flesh made Alexander angry.

“There is no cause to handle a woman thus!” Alexander urged the lady behind him. “You have no claim upon her, and less claim to give insult in my abode. Begone, Alan, before worse is said this day.”

Alan’s eyes narrowed. “You know little of the matter, it
is clear. As my brother’s widow, and a widow whose own kin is dead, Eleanor’s future is mine to determine. I do have claim upon her, and I do intend to see justice served.”

“I owe you nothing!” Eleanor said with heat.

“The lady declines your kindly interest in her future,” Alexander said coldly. “And truly, there is no need for your involvement, as she has already wedded me.”

“Is this true?” Alan demanded of Eleanor.

“Indeed, it is,” she said.

“And you wed him willingly, without coercion?”

Alexander felt Eleanor straighten behind him, and her words revealed that some of her determination had been restored. “That is an intriguing query from a man who would see me wed by force.”

To whom would Alan see Eleanor wed?

Alexander noted the avarice in Alan’s expression and thought he could guess the answer to that query. He assumed that Alan had a fancy for his late brother’s wife, one that was not reciprocated by that lady and one that was unacceptable by the church’s law. The realization made him doubly determined to defend her. His sisters had oft expressed fear of Alan Douglas and he could well understand why Eleanor might have fled that man.

“I but seek to ensure your welfare, sister,” Alan said.

“It is assured,” Alexander and Eleanor said in unison. “You are far from your abode, neighbor,” Alexander added with pointed politeness. “And surely must make haste to see yourself at your own board this night.”

“We rest at Tivotdale this Yule, which is not so distant.” Alan nodded to Eleanor. “Though your bride could have told you as much, had she so chosen. She walked here from that hall, after all.”

That Eleanor had walked so far in the snow to evade Alan and his scheme told Alexander all he needed to know.

Alan sneered at Eleanor. “Did you walk to Kinfairlie specifically because you had heard tell that its laird was unwed?”

“No!” Eleanor retorted so hotly that Alexander believed it to be true. “I but fled, and knew not where I ran. The direction was of less intent than flight itself!”

Alan smiled and might have said more, but Alexander had heard sufficient. “Your presence is unwelcome upon these lands, Alan,” he said with resolve. “For you show yourself to be a poor guest. Leave now, and we may meet again in good cheer. If you remain, and continue to cause insult, that circumstance is less certain.”

“It is my intention merely to be a good neighbor and ally,” Alan said smoothly, bowing to Eleanor with a charm that only fed Alexander’s distrust. “I would simply warn you of the merit of the woman you would take to wife, before it is too late.”

“I know the lady’s merit,” Alexander said, recapturing Eleanor’s hand within his own. Her fingers were cold. He could well understand her fear of men if she had been wed to Ewen Douglas. That man had been a loud and violent drunkard, by Alexander’s reckoning.

“Do you?” Alan smiled that wolfish smile again. “Surely a man of sense would think twice afore taking a murderess to his bed?”

The company recoiled in shock, as clearly Alan had anticipated they would. He turned to his rapt audience and nodded as if confiding a secret in them. “It is true. We have hunted this viper for four days and nights, ever since in fact, we found my brother, Ewen, her legally wedded
spouse, murdered in his own bed at Tivotdale. There was no sign of his wife, save the trail of her departing footprints in the snow.”

The company gasped, but Alan held up a finger. Alexander noted that the only person unsurprised by this revelation was Eleanor. She glared at Alan, her hatred undisguised.

It must be a filthy
li
e Alan told, and Alexander did not blame Eleanor for despising him for it.

“You make charges without proof,” Alexander said.

Alan held up a finger. “The only soul who had been in Ewen’s company was his lady wife, none other than the lady your laird would wed this morning. She had fled her own chamber in the middle of the night, with only the garb upon her back, and this upon the same night that my brother was killed.”
He regarded the company. “My brother, Ewen, disregarded the tales that were told of the demise of the lady’s first husband and the lady’s rumored part in that demise, and that to his own loss.”

He turned to Alexander, the cunning in his eyes doing little to persuade Alexander to believe him. “Save yourself now, neighbor, and spurn this woman before your match is consummated. She can only bring you grief.”

“And if Alexander spurns her, what then will be her fate?’ Madeline demanded. Alexander did not doubt that his sister meant to make the full result of any such choice clear to him, but he had no intent of spurning Eleanor.

How could he surrender her to the custody of a man who would so willingly defame her? Alexander did not doubt that worse than cruel words would await Eleanor beneath Alan’s hand.

Alan smiled his chilling smile. “She will return to our abode and face justice as she deserves.”

Alexander watched Eleanor, whose expression was impossible to read. She arched a brow, as if anticipating what he might ask. “Do whatsoever you will, my lord,” she said to Alexander, her tone tart. “It is not a woman’s place to choose, after all.”

Alexander saw that Eleanor expected little from him, and knew that her expectation had been learned. Doubtless, Ewen had taught her to expect nothing, not even courtesy, from a spouse. That must have compounded the lessons of her first spouse.

Alexander would teach her to expect otherwise from her husband.

“It is, however, my wife’s place to remain at my side in Kinfairlie,” he said, and knew he did not imagine the surprise that lit Eleanor’s eyes.

“What folly is this?” Alan said.

“No folly at all. I thank you, neighbor, for your counsel, but the lady and I have already consummated our match.” He drew Eleanor to his left side, where she rightly belonged, and bestowed a smile upon her. “I fear that we celebrated the nuptial night afore our nuptial vows were made. It matters little in the end, so long as both are completed in timely manner and neither of us is desirous of an annulment
.
”

“But this cannot
be…” Alan
protested.

Alexander snapped his fingers and beckoned. Vera, his sisters’ maid, came through the company, proudly bearing the stained linens from his own bed. The priest blessed the bloodstain and prayed for the favor of sons, while Alan’s brow darkened yet more.

“This is impossible,” he said with fury. “It proves nothing.”

“It proves that Ewen did not have blood in his veins,” Alexander said quietly, “if he was never tempted to claim his bride. It seems the lady’s two former husbands had much in common, though little of merit to be sure.”

The other man looked as if he would make a hot reply, but Alexander allowed him no chance to speak. “Has it not long been said that Ewen favored his ale above all else? Perhaps he fell in his chamber, being too besotted to find his own bed.”

“You know nothing of my brother or his nature!” Alan began, but Alexander shook his head.

“And you seem to know nothing of his demise. You offer only accusations. You offer no evidence against my wife, save her absence from your hall, and no proof of her guilt. There are those who must marvel that Ewen was not dead of his excesses years ago.”

“But…
”

“In fact, your behavior shows the lady’s good sense in leaving Tivotdale once her spouse was dead. No woman of wit would expect justice from you.”

“You cannot argue with me! You have no right to harbor a murderess!”

“Your accusation is a poor gift to bring a neighbor on Christmas mom, no less upon his wedding day,” Alexander said, not acknowledging Alan’s interruption. “Further, you interrupt our celebration of this day’s miracle.” He met the older man’s gaze. “Join us or leave.”

“You cannot compel
me…
”

“Mine is Kinfairlie, and mine is the command of those upon its lands.” Alexander laid his hand upon the hilt of
his sword. “Make your choice.” He saw in the periphery of his vision that his two brothers-in-law had also dropped their hands to the hilts of their blades.

The chapel was silent for a moment; then Alan swore.