The Spitfire (13 page)

“Where does the water for the moat come from, Father Colin?” she asked the kilt-clad priest.

“There is an underground spring within the castle courtyard, which is why Dunmor has always been so impregnable to attack, my lady. Tavis’ maternal ancestor cleverly diverted that spring into two streams. One provides freshwater for the castle’s inhabitants, and the other keeps the moat well filled. Since the mouths of both channels are within the castle, neither can be dammed by an enemy.”

The drawbridge to Dunmore lay open to the visitors, for the earl was recognized and expected. They clattered across it into the castle courtyard. There were many open-mouthed stares directed toward the girl with the beautiful, flowing mane of pale gold gossamer hair who sat so regally in her silver gown before the earl upon his saddle. Arabella held her head high and refused to lower her glance. Let them all see how a brave Englishwoman behaved before her captors.

Drawing his great stallion to a halt before a wide swath of stairs leading up into his home, the earl slid to the ground. He reached up to help Arabella dismount, but the girl pushed his hand away, protesting,

“I am quite capable of dismounting a horse myself, my lord.” But then, to her intense mortification, as her feet hit the ground her legs collapsed beneath her.

“Dinna be such a proud little fool, lassie,” he admonished her as he scooped her up and carried her up the steps into the castle. “Yer legs are tired from the long ride.” He carried the irate girl into the Great Hall of Dunmor and deposited her as gently as he might into a high-backed chair by the fire. Then, looking down at her, he took her chin in his hand and tipped it up so he might see her face. “This is my house, Arabella Grey, and I will nae be shamed wi’ in it by anyone, least of all a wee slip of a girl. Yer my captive, but I will treat ye wi’ kindness and honor as long as ye merit it. Try my patience, however, and I will lock ye in the north tower and toss the key down my well.”

“Nicely done, Tavis,” came an amused voice as it moved nearer to them. “If I were this young lady, I think I should be tempted to find something sharp and stick it in ye.” The voice gained a face and form as an elegantly dressed woman moved gracefully across the hall and joined them. “Where have you been, my son? Did you forget that today is Ailis’ birthday and the family has come to Dunmor to celebrate?”

“Mother!” Tavis Stewart kissed the lovely lady and then apologized. “I did forget. There was an opportunity to settle this matter with Sir Jasper Keane, the man who murdered Eufemia, and I simply took it.” He went on to explain to his mother.

Arabella tried to be discreet in her examination of the earl’s mother, but she was frankly curious about this woman who had loved, and been beloved of a king. Margery Stewart Fleming was almost six feet in height. She had dark red hair and her eyes were dark green, like her son’s. Her features were strong for a woman, and Arabella would have called her more handsome than beautiful. Her voice was deep, but mellifluous. She had beautiful hands, which she used to punctuate her speech, and her fair white skin made even more dramatic her coloring.

Behind Lady Fleming clustered three young girls, one who looked so very much like her that it could only be her daughter. As for the other two, the elder had lovely chestnut-brown hair and large blue eyes, and the younger was a brown blonde with the same blue eyes. Sisters, perhaps, Arabella considered. She blushed when she saw that she was under as intense scrutiny from the girls as they were by her.

Lady Fleming turned her gaze to Arabella, and she immediately arose and curtsied to her elder.

The older woman smiled, well-pleased. “What pretty manners you have, my child,” she said, then slapping her big son on the arm, she demanded, “Introduce us properly, Tavis!”

“Mother,” the earl replied, “may I introduce to you Lady Arabella Grey.” He directed his speech next to Arabella. “Lassie, this is my mother, Lady Margery Fleming.”

“You poor child,” Lady Fleming said almost immediately. “You must be chilled to the bone coming across the hills on such a damp and cold day wi’ out even a cloak. Ye’ll come wi’ me, and I’ll see ye hae a nice hot tub. Then we’ll see if we can find ye something more comfortable to wear, and we’ll do what we can to salvage yer beautiful gown. Are ye hungry, child?”

“Aye, madame,” Arabella said, “and thirsty too. The wedding was to be early, and I had not yet broken my fast because there was to be a Mass.”

“Ye hae nae eaten or drunk this day?” Lady Fleming looked astounded. “Tavis! Yer a brute to treat this poor little thing so badly. Did I raise ye, then, to think so poorly of women and their needs?”

“Peace, Mother!” the earl said. “When I went over the border this morning I did nae think I should be returning wi’ a captive.”

His mother continued to look somewhat askance at him. “Continue wi’ yer introductions, then, my son,” she replied.

“Lady Grey, my sister, Ailis Fleming.”

Ailis Fleming curtsied to Arabella, who said, “Felicitations on your birthday, Mistress Fleming.”

“Lady Grey, Mistress Margaret Hamilton, and her sister, Mary.”

The Hamilton sisters curtsied to Arabella, who returned their greeting in kind.

“I’m a wee bit taller than ye, Lady Grey,” Meg Hamilton said, “but I think we might alter some of my gowns to fit ye, though none would be as beautiful as the gown yer wearing.”

Arabella smiled shyly. “‘Tis the finest dress I have ever owned,” she admitted. “‘Tis my wedding gown.”

“Aye, Meg,” the earl said wickedly. “Lady Arabella was to have wed this day wi’ yer sister’s murderer. She has had a most fortunate escape, although she canna seem to see it that way, can ye, lassie?”

“You really are a bastard, my lord,” Arabella said furiously.

There was an awkward silence, and finally the earl said, “Will no one say anything?”

“What do you expect them to say?” snapped Arabella. “You have just introduced me to the Mistress Hamiltons as the bride-to-be of a man who must surely be their bitterest enemy. Do you assume that Mistress Margaret and Mistress Mary can so easily overlook that? Whatever she may have done, Mistress Eufemia was their elder sister and they loved her. Once again you display to me a lack of delicacy of feelings, my lord earl.”

Lady Fleming almost laughed, but she restrained herself with much difficulty. This petite young girl’s attack upon her son was most refreshing. Women were usually apt to make fools of themselves over Tavis. His title, his royal relations, and his handsome face seemed to be irresistible until now.

“Oh, please, Lady Grey,” Meg Hamilton said earnestly, “do not think that we would hold you accountable for anything that Sir Jasper Keane did. I know I speak for my whole family when I tell ye that we dinna. Indeed we are most astounded by yer appearance in our midst, but ye must believe the earl when he tells ye that ye have had a most narrow escape. Sir Jasper is nae a kind or a good man.”

“Where do ye intend housing this child, Tavis?” demanded his mother.

“In the west tower, Mother. There is but one entrance and exit to the west tower apartments. Lady Grey is not, I suspect, above attempting to escape my custody, are ye lass?” he said with a grin.

“Are you asking for my parole, my lord?” Arabella said sweetly. “Well, I’ll not give it you! Offered the opportunity, I will escape you!”

“I know,” he replied quietly, “and so ye’ll be guarded at all times, lassie. If ye behave yerself, however, ye may have the freedom of the hall, the chapel and my gardens. Misbehave, and ye’ll find yerself confined most strictly.”

She glowered at him. “I understand, my lord,” was her icy answer.

“This child must have someone to look after her, Tavis,” Lady Fleming said.

“I know, Mother.” He turned and called to a motherly looking woman across the hall. “Flora, to me!”

The woman, obviously an upper-servant, hurried over to the earl. “My lord?” she said, curtsying.

“This is Lady Grey, Flora. She is both my prisoner and my honored guest. She is to be lodged in the west tower, and I would hae ye look after her wi’ kindness. She is never to be left alone, and Father Colin is responsible for her. Ye will go to him, unless, of course, the matter is a serious one.”

“Aye, m’lord,” Flora said, “and I’ll take good care of the little lassie for ye, dinna fear. I’ll go now and see that her rooms are prepared and a fire lit, for the day has been cold for June and the night will be as well. The west tower can be damp in weather like this.” She curtsied again and hurried off.

Arabella was well warmed now, and she allowed the earl to lead her to the highboard, as the dinner hour was upon them. He seated her on his left, his mother on his right. Sitting next to Margery Fleming was her husband Ian, a large, bluff man who kissed Arabella’s hand as he introduced himself. They were joined by the earl’s sister, Ailis, Meg and Mary Hamilton, the earl’s three half brothers, and a handsome young man who was introduced as Robert Hamilton, the Laird of Culcairn. Below the highboard, tables were brought, and placed along with benches, which were quickly filled with the earl’s retainers and servants. Other servants began entering the hall with steaming platters, bowls, and plates filled with hot food.

Arabella was ravenous. Forgetting her threat to starve herself, she heaped her silver plate high with salmon, lamb, several slices of sweet pink ham, a wedge of rabbit pie, a spoonful of small onions and carrots covered with a sherried cream sauce, some braised lettuce, and a bit of raw cress. All of this she liberally washed down with a large goblet of rich red wine, mopping the juices from her plate with a small trencher of bread which she daintily broke into little pieces.

About her the talk swirled, and though she half listened, she did not join in while she ate, giving all her attention to her food. She was determined to dislike Tavis Stewart for using her as a pawn in his game with Jasper Keane, yet those about her, his family and servants alike, treated the earl with a mixture of respect and fondness. Perhaps he was not as bad as Jasper, but he had used her. Still, Jasper Keane had used her as well. Used her to gain a foothold at Greyfaire, which she realized now was his only interest in her. His own home—a poor place, the earl had said—was destroyed. He needed Arabella Grey for but one thing, Greyfaire Keep. And the king had used her as well. He had used her, and he had used her inheritance to bind Sir Jasper Keane to him in loyalty. Arabella considered that perhaps cousin Richard had not known Jasper Keane at all, for he was, Arabella now suspected, loyal only to himself. Arabella spooned up the last bit of a sweet tartlet with its blanket of heavy cream.

“I think we may be of an age, Lady Grey,” said Meg Hamilton, leaning over to speak to her. “I am almost fourteen.”

“As am I,” Arabella replied. “Will you call me Arabella, and may I call you Meg?”

“Aye!” Meg replied, and when she smiled, Arabella could see tiny golden flecks in her eyes, which were more gray than blue and fringed in short, thick sandy-colored lashes. “I realize ‘tis a difficult situation in which we both find ourselves, but can we nae be friends? After all, neither ye nor I are responsible for the difficulties that surround us.”

Arabella nodded. “Men,” she said irritably. “They cannot seem to live in peace. I would like to be friends with you, Meg. I have a friend at Greyfaire. Her name is Lona, and she is FitzWalter’s daughter. FitzWalter,” she explained, “is the keep’s captain.” Then, “Did Sir Jasper really burn your house to the ground? It was a beastly thing to do!”

Meg nodded. “Rob brought us all—Mary, the baby, Geordie, old Una, and me—to safety. We saw everything…” Her voice trailed off even as Arabella remembered what the earl had said about Eufemia Hamilton’s death.

“Ohh, I am sorry, Meg! I have been thoughtless.” Arabella’s voice was genuinely regretful. “Forgive me. It is just that I am so surprised to have discovered that Sir Jasper is such a villain,” and as she spoke, Arabella remembered the day that Jasper Keane had beaten her. Why had she not known then?

“You did not really know him,” Meg said quietly.

“Nay, not really. The king chose Sir Jasper to be my husband because he knew Greyfaire must have a lord to defend it. He is very handsome, and I, to my shame, am very inexperienced in these matters.”

“And I would certainly hope a lass of yer tender years would be inexperienced in the matters of men,” Lady Fleming said. “Yer king, if he cared, should have known better, but I’ve heard nae good of King Richard.”

“Oh no, madame!’ Arabella cried. “King Richard is a good man, I vow it! I have known him my whole life, as has my mother, who was Queen Anne’s cousin. I believe that Sir Jasper put on one face for the king and yet a different face for each person he met. ‘Tis a most handsome face too,” Arabella concluded.

“‘Tis always difficult to believe the worst of a handsome man,” Lady Fleming noted sagely, and the gentlemen hearing her remark laughed.

“Are you betrothed?” Arabella asked Meg. She had decided that she liked this pretty Scots girl. They would pass the time most pleasantly until she could discover a means of escape. Who knew? Perhaps Meg Hamilton would help her.

“I am nae betrothed,” and Meg lowered her voice, “but I am in love!”

“You are?”
Arabella said. “How wonderful! Are you certain? I thought I was in love with Sir Jasper, but now that he has proven himself so cowardly, I realize I could have never really loved him. How do you know, Meg, if it is really love? Can you tell me who he is? Will your family approve? Will they make the match?”

Meg giggled. “So many questions!” she teased Arabella, smiling.
“He
is Gavin Fleming, the earl’s half brother; and aye, my brother approves; and aye, Gavin loves me too. It is wonderful! Tell me, Arabella, did yer toes feel all curled up in yer shoes when Sir Jasper kissed ye? Mine do when Gavin kisses me. That’s one way I know. I never felt that way before when the lads would steal a kiss. Wi’ Gavin I dream about my own home, and about the bairns we will have.” She blushed. “I nae thought about having bairns before wi’ another lad. ‘Tis love, I’m certain! Gavin will ask his father’s permission to wed wi’ me when they return home to Glen Ailean in a few days. Lord Ian will agree, for there is nae impediment to our union. Rob has promised that he will add half of Eufemia’s dowry to my dowry. The other half will go for Mary when she weds one day. I am a well-dowered lass and need nae be ashamed that I would be Gavin Fleming’s wife. Gavin will one day inherit his father’s house and lands, ye know.”