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“There, you said it already. She is English, and she is the sister of my sworn enemy. She is no Highlander…”
“Ye mean tae send her from here then, at some point?”
He sent her an indignant glare. “Of course I do not. I love her.”
“If she is tae remain then she is a Highlander now, whatever she may ha’ been born. Do ye see her brother when ye look upon her, for I swear I do not?”
“You have never set eyes upon the Earl of Ingram.”
“Have you?”
Blair dragged his fingers through his hair. “Nay, but—”
“May I speak plainly, lad?”
He peered at her in astonishment. Did this woman never listen to herself? “Aye, please do not let me deter you.”
She let out a peculiar sound, somewhere between a cough and a snort. “Ye may save your sarcasm for them as may be impressed by it. I care about ye, lad, I care about all in this keep, so I shall have my say.”
He was at once contrite. He knew Elspeth loved him no less than had his own dear mother, and he felt much the same way about her. Of course she was entitled to voice her opinion. It was he who reached for her hand now. “My apologies, Elspeth. Please, tell me what you think.”
“I think if ye dinna marry our Lady Roselyn ye’ll wed no one else. There are any number of fine Highland ladies ye could ha’ approached an’ I know ye’ve had your chances but ne’er shown any inclination. Are ye in need of a dowry? Is that it?”
He shook his head. The Duncleit coffers were tolerably full.
“Political alliances then? Are we under threat? Do we need to curry favour with the other chiefs?”
“No, we are safe enough.” He paused. “That is what I told Roselyn, though. I told her that when I marry it will be to forge a political union and to safeguard my kinsmen.”
Elspeth’s gaze softened. “I suspect ye may ha’ believed that at the time as I ken ye not tae be a liar.”
“Thank you.” He truly appreciated her faith in him.
“But ye should tell her, now that ye ha’ changed your mind. ‘Tis not fair otherwise.”
“What about the clan? They would not accept a Sassenach for their lady.”
Elspeth shook her head then gestured to the hall at large. “Look about ye, lad. Does that no’ look like acceptance tae ye?”
His gaze followed her hand. Roselyn now stood close to the outer door, deep in conversation with two women from the village which lay just beyond his walls. One held a small babe, and Roselyn lifted her hand to caress the child’s head. Both women curtsied to her, their smiles broad as they hurried from the hall.
“There is no problem here, lad, bar one o’ your making. Now, ye think on what I have said.” She got to her feet. “Eh, well, this’ll no’ get the parsnips i’ the pot. I’ve wasted enough time on idle chatter.” Elspeth dropped him a bob, which Blair considered ironic in the circumstances, but he refrained from commenting. On one matter at least, she was correct. Hedidhave much to think about.
* * *
Roselyn turned back from the portal as the two village women hurried back in the direction of their croft. Their home lay a couple of miles beyond the village, an isolated farm where they scratched out a living from two cows and a few acres of arable land. She had learnt enough during her months in the Highlands to realise that theirs was a harsh life and crofters tended to be close-knit. She had been surprised therefore, astonished even, when the older of the two had asked her to stand as godmother to the latest little Drummond, a fine baby girl whom they apparently intended to name in her honour. Blair would be pleased, or she hoped he would. She must tell him straight away.
“Freya.” She extended her left hand and at once the dog was there, the hound’s thick, wiry fur between Roselyn’s fingers as she turned to face down the length of the hall. Over the years since she lost her sight Roselyn had developed a keen sense of direction. She might be waylaid by obstacles she could not see, but rarely did she not know where she was going. The dog veered to the left or right as they made their way back to the dais, and Roselyn followed.
“Blair?” She knew his tread before he reached her. “Do you have a moment?”
He paused beside her. “I do not, my lady. Aiden is waiting for me in the stables.”
Even as they spoke she knew that Aiden was with Robbie and a party of guards attending to a portion of crumbling masonry on their northern ramparts. Roselyn bowed her head and stepped aside to allow The McGregor to pass. Clearly he did not wish to speak with her and was making an excuse not to stop.
“Later, then, my lord?”
“Aye, later,” he called as he hurried away.
