Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Indeed, sir," Michael said sincerely, "I have no objection to marrying Lady Isobel if she will agree to it. I believe she'd make me an excellent wife, because she is the most intrepid woman I've ever met, the most fascinating, and the most beautiful. But she has made it abundantly plain that she has no wish to marry, ever."

"You can safely leave it to me to persuade her otherwise."

Unable to resist, Michael smiled as he said, "She tells me she knows exactly how to manage you, sir."

Hector chuckled, surprising him. "Does she now? Well, we'll see."

Relaxing, astonished at the sense of satisfaction those words gave him, Michael said, "May we sit, sir? I own, my energy tonight is not what it usually is."

"We've no need to dally here any longer," Hector said. "I wanted to speak to you privately only because, once Isobel made it plain that she either could not or would not identify you properly, I wanted to forestall any inclination you might have had to deceive us and to learn what had brought you to such a pass. You must tell us, you know, but you may elect to tell me now, or speak openly to us all."

"I believe—"

Hector stopped him with a gesture. "I'd advise the latter course because I have no secrets from my brother and few from my wife. Lachlan and I likewise trust Mairi. And as to Lady Euphemia, we can send her to her chamber if you like, but for all that she may seem like a chattering magpie, she is not."

"I will reveal as much as I can to you, sir, and as much as you think I should to the others," Michael said. "I still believe, however, that Lady Isobel, and indeed the other ladies, should know as little as possible, lest my enemies come to believe the women know what they want to know. When they learn that I have been here, as they will, they may suspect everyone here of having that information."

Hector frowned. "Just who are these enemies of yours?"

"One is my cousin Waldron of Edgelaw."

"I do not know him."

"He's the bastard son of one of my father's cousins, who sent him to be raised in France with a branch of our family there before allowing his return to Edgelaw, near Roslin, about ten years ago. Waldron resents our wealth and his baser position, despite the generosity of my father and his cousin, and now that of my brother. He believes he can improve his estate by aiding a greater enemy of ours."

"And that enemy …"

"The Kirk of Rome," Michael said. "Apparently, his Holiness Pope Urban—like Pope Gregory before him—and certain others, as well, believes that something was taken from the Kirk that must be returned."

"Sakes, lad, stop talking in riddles! What did you take?"

"I took naught, sir, for the incident happened nearly a century ago. Indeed, I do not even know exactly what is missing," Michael added. "I've known all my life that we guarded a secret, but my father died before telling us what it is. Rumor suggests, however, that great treasure is involved, and my cousin thinks I know its location, but I swear to you on my honor that I do not have the slightest notion."

"I see," Hector said. "In that case, I understand your concern, but we must get back to the others soon, or they will all be down upon us. Not even my brother possesses enough patience to sit out there quietly whilst you and I discuss this matter more thoroughly. We will talk more of it, however. That I promise you."

"Aye, sir, I'm agreeable. I could use a strong ally in this business."

"Have you no friends involved in it now?"

"The only one who knows or suspects the whole is my cousin Hugo Robison, who is presently in Kintail. I arranged to get word to him, so I expect he'll turn up here tomorrow or the next day. I … I let Lady Isobel think him a servant of mine."

"I see," Hector said. "You may come to regret much of what you led her to believe. However, I'll let you deal with that. For now, I suggest you tell us all how you came to meet her, what you can of how she aided you, and what exactly brought you here. You should be able to negotiate any obstacles that arise in discussing those points, and I'll help you where I can. If you step into truly deep water, I'll end the discussion. And, sithee, lad, if the Kirk be involved in this, I agree that the less our womenfolk ken of your treasure the better it will be for us all."

Michael nodded, relieved.

"We'll have to tell them who you are, though, and that straightaway."

"Yes, sir."

"Since I'll tell Lachlan all that you have told me, you should know that he is likely to want to take part in any future talks we have."

"I have no objection to that."

"Then you and I are agreed on the matter of your marriage to Isobel, but what of your family? Might they have objections?"

Meeting that stern gaze, Michael said dryly, "My brother may have other plans for me, sir. He often does, but I have not seen him in months, nor have we discussed any alliance in particular. In any event, I am my own man. The decision as to whom I shall marry will be mine."

Hector's eyes twinkled. "You put me in mind of myself at your age, lad. However, Sir Henry is your liege lord, is he not?"

"Aye," Michael said. "And, as such, he commands my loyalty. But I made it plain to him long ago that I would choose my own bride. Whether he chooses to recall that or not may prove another matter, but it can make no difference. Indeed, my mother will be more difficult than Henry, but I have as much confidence in my ability to manage her as Isobel had when she said she could manage you. I'll wager my record speaks better for itself, though," he added with another smile.

"Very well, then," Hector said, offering his hand. "Now we have only to inform Isobel of the great honor in store for her."

Michael followed his host back into the hall, but although he smiled as he thought about Isobel, he could not pretend to be as confident as Hector.

The lass had made her position clear.

Earlier, when Hector and Michael left the hall, Isobel had watched them go, lending only half an ear as Cristina explained that Princess Margaret had accompanied Mairi and Lachlan because MacDonald was ailing and they were unsure that he would be able to travel north with them to celebrate the installation of the new Prince of Orkney.

Mairi said, "Because it is to be such a grand occasion, if he cannot attend, we are agreed that she will go with us to represent him. And since we had already planned to spend the night here tonight, she elected to come with us." Smiling at Isobel, she added, "I think it is delightful that you were able to return whilst we are here, my dear. We've missed you dreadfully."

"Did you think to ask someone to bring up your baggage?" Cristina asked.

"I brought none," Isobel said with a shrug as she returned Mairi's smile. "I had no opportunity to pack, Cristina, because one doesn't during an adventure. I mean to tell you all about it, but we should wait until Hector and Michael return."

"He is very handsome, your Michael," Mairi said.

"Mairi!" Cristina exclaimed as Isobel gasped.

"Mercy on us all, madam," Lady Euphemia said in the same breath, "I trust you are jesting. Our Isobel is not so lost to her own worth as to think we would let her marry a man like that. Why, he is …" She hesitated, clearly at a loss.

"He is one of the handsomest men I've ever clapped eyes on," Mairi said. Twinkling at her husband, she added, "Not counting anyone here, of course."

"I should hope not," Lachlan retorted with a loving smile. The smile vanished, however, as he turned to Isobel and said, "Where did you meet him, lass?"

Having been about to declare that she had no intention of marrying anyone, let alone Michael, Isobel recognized the same deceptively gentle tone in Lachlan's voice that she had heard so often in Hector's. Stifling the denial on her tongue, she said politely, "Near Glenelg, sir."

"When?"

Wishing she had the nerve to tell him it was none of his business, or even that she did not want to have to explain everything twice, she said, "Yesterday."

"Yesterday!" Cristina and Lady Euphemia exclaimed in one voice.

Unable to suppress her resentment, she glowered at Lachlan but relaxed a little when she detected a twinkle in his eyes. She braced herself nonetheless, knowing that he had opened the door to sharper interrogation.

Cristina and Lady Euphemia both began talking at once, whereupon Lady Euphemia said apologetically, "I beg your pardon, my dear Cristina. I know that I should hold my tongue. She is your sister and your foster daughter, of course, so you should be the one to demand that she explain herself."

Before Cristina could do so, Mairi interjected with a laugh, "Have mercy on the poor child, both of you. Would you force her to explain everything to us now only to have to repeat it all as soon as Hector and her Michael return?"

"I warrant Hector is getting the full tale as we wait," Lachlan said dryly.

"Not if he knows what is good for him, he isn't," the wife of his bosom said roundly. "I want to hear it all without anything left out. Come and sit beside me, child," she added. "I have much to tell you, and I want to hear all about your sisters. How does Adela fare? Has she tired yet of running your father's household?"

Isobel sighed, fearing that tempers would rise before the night was over and feeling grateful for Michael's milder temperament. Even as she reassured herself, however, she wondered how he could possibly defend himself against four such unyielding personalities—five if one counted Lady Euphemia, as indeed one had to these days. She had long since abandoned the meek, overly compliant disposition she had assumed years before, while living in her brother's household at Chalamine.

Mairi soon turned the conversation to her children and those of Hector and Cristina, reciting for Isobel a number of amusing things they had done during her absence. In this manner the time passed swiftly until Hector and Michael returned.

As the two approached the dais, Isobel tried to judge how much Michael had suffered from whatever Hector had said to him. He gazed directly at her, but although he smiled and appeared to be his usual calm self, he did look a bit wary.

Hector, however, was smiling broadly. He walked up to Isobel and rested a hand gently on her right shoulder as he said to the others, "I have excellent news for you. Sir Michael St. Clair, Master of Roslin and brother to Sir Henry St. Clair, soon to be installed as Prince of Orkney, has done Isobel the great honor of asking for her hand in marriage. I have agreed, and they will therefore be married as soon as we can make the arrangements."

"No," Isobel gasped, attempting to jump to her feet and set matters right.

Hector's hand remained firm on her shoulder, holding her in place.

Long experience having taught her that it was useless, even foolhardy, to defy him, she simmered but remained obediently still, biting her tongue to keep from shouting at them all that they could not coerce her into marriage, not to any man.

Lachlan arose, held out his hand to Michael, and said in a reflective tone, "I thought you looked familiar, St. Clair." Then, looking with barely concealed amusement at Isobel, he added, "'Tis a good match you propose, but I'm guessing that our lass here did not even know your proper name until now."

"Nay, my lord, she did not," Michael admitted, also looking at her.

Isobel did not trust herself to meet his gaze. She wanted to leap up and tell him, and Hector, too, exactly what she thought of such an absurd proposal, but with Hector's iron hand still clamped to her shoulder, that option was out of the question. She noted that Cristina stared at her as if she would like to say something, but she remained silent, too, so Isobel knew she would gain no support from that quarter.

The news had apparently rendered Lady Euphemia speechless.

Even Mairi, for once, was silent.

"Sit down, lad," Hector said genially, indicating the place next to Lachlan as he took his own seat at the end of the table, thus neatly using his brother and Mairi to separate Isobel and Michael. "I know you have much to tell us, but first I should present you properly to the Princess Margaret, and to my lady wife and my brother's wife, as well—and to Lady Euphemia Macleod, my lady's aunt."

Lady Euphemia, finding her tongue at last, said, "To be sure, we are honored to meet you, Sir Michael, but I hope you will forgive my bewilderment—indeed, our bewilderment. For how can this be, Isobel?" she added, shifting her gaze from Michael to her grandniece. "Indeed, since you traveled here together today without benefit of any other female to lend even a semblance of propriety to your journey, we must be glad that you traveled with a man who desires to take you to wife, but 'tis nonetheless quite improper and all very sudden. Is it not?" she asked the others in general. "I do not even want to think of what Murdo will say to this!"

Isobel nearly smiled at the expression on Michael's face as he remembered that she had a father, and one, moreover, who would most likely have a good deal to say about the suggested marriage of his daughter to a man he did not know.

Turning to Hector, she said stiffly, "You cannot suppose that my father will be pleased about this notion of yours, sir. Surely, he must give his permission."

Hector's eyes narrowed in that annoying way they had when something she said or did, or the tone she used, stirred his displeasure, but this time she did not care. He was trying to dictate her future, and she had every right to speak her mind on that subject. She held his gaze until, surprisingly, his expression softened.

Gently, he said, "When your father agreed that you should foster here, lass, part of that agreement was that I should bear the responsibility of providing you with a suitable husband. Thus, he has already given his permission, and since he has declared more than once that we have spoiled you beyond reason, I doubt he will be much amazed to learn that you have chosen your own husband."

"But I didn't!"

"Aye, but you did, Isobel," Lachlan said. "Whatever were you thinking, to travel here in a galley full of men with Sir Michael as your sole protector?"

As she tried to think how best to answer him, several servants entered from the buttery behind the dais, carrying trays, and with a frowning glance at them, Hector said, "We will discuss that journey further after the lads have served Isobel and Michael their supper. Then, I think, we will let them begin at the beginning so that we can hear the whole tale."

He waited only until Isobel and Michael had trenchers, platters of meat and vegetables, and goblets of claret before them. Then, dismissing the servants, he said, "The hour grows late, so I would ask that we begin now, and with you, Sir Michael, since doubtless you ken more about what happened than the lass does."

"Aye, sir, somewhat more, but I can tell you only that I was visiting a friend in Kintail, who told me of a cavern in the vicinity. I have long had an interest in such places, so when I awoke betimes yesterday morning, I went in search of it. I had just come upon its entrance when six men descended upon me, took me captive, and demanded that I give them certain information that I do not possess. They were expressing their disbelief of that fact when Lady Isobel providentially intervened."

"What information?" Mairi asked.

"Just one moment," Hector said. "How did you come to intervene, Isobel?"

A silence fell, and Isobel stared at the trencher of food before her, wishing that Michael had taken longer to reach her part in their adventure.

Lady Euphemia said with a sigh, "You know perfectly well how that came about, my lord. Out riding alone, she was, I'll warrant, just as she always does at Chalamine—aye, and as you did, too, Cristina. Do not claim that you did not."

"No, Aunt Euphemia, I shan't deny it," Cristina said. "Usually it is perfectly safe. What happened, Isobel?"

Sending a grateful look her way, Isobel said with feeling, "They were whipping him! They had tied him by his arms, stretched him between two trees, and torn off his shirt. His screams drew me to them. They were horrid, all six of them!"

"Merciful heavens," Mairi exclaimed. "You confronted six men by yourself?"

"Aye, sure, for they were on Macleod land," Isobel said. "But when I ordered them to stop, they hustled us both deep into that dreadful cave, tied us up, and left us there whilst they went to see if I'd left a party of armed men anywhere nearby."

"You certainly should have had an escort," Lachlan said sternly.

"Let her get on with her tale," Mairi said. "Obviously, you escaped them."

Michael smiled. "We did indeed, madam, thanks to her ladyship."

"Thanks to Hector," Isobel said, smiling at that gentleman. "I had the dirk you gave me, sir, when I turned thirteen—in its sheath on my leg. The only difficulty lay in getting my hands on it with my arms bound behind me and my ankles tied."

"Faith, how did you accomplish such a feat?" Lachlan demanded.

Cristina laughed. "Do not tell me you can still contort yourself as you did years ago when you startled poor Kate out of her liver and lights!"

Isobel smiled at Michael and received a smile in return when she said, "It is astonishing what one can do when fear drives her. I thought I heard them returning."

Between the two of them they related nearly all that had happened, including the tale Isobel had told Donald Mòr Gowrie, omitting only the interlude between them on the ship. "So you see," she concluded as she came to the end, "anyone would understand that we did only what necessity demanded. Therefore, no good reason exists for me to marry Michael even if I did travel with him."

"Sir Michael," Hector reminded her gently.

She saw Cristina grimace and exchange a look with Mairi.

Princess Margaret had not said a word beyond an occasional exclamation of astonishment or horror, but it was she who said now, "You must know that is not the case, Isobel. Word travels with amazing speed here in the Isles, my dear, and you can be sure that everyone will soon hear of your adventures if only because news having anything to do with the new Prince of Orkney simply leaps from every tongue."

"But Gowrie's men will say nothing! They won't, not even about—"

Realizing she had allowed herself to say more than she had intended, she stopped abruptly. Glancing toward Michael, she was not surprised to see him tilt his head down and put a hand over his eyes. He appeared to be biting his lower lip.

"About what?" Hector prompted.

"Nothing," she muttered. "It was nothing."

"I do not agree," Michael said gently. "Not at all."

"I see," Hector said.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Isobel said grimly. "I won't be made to marry anyone. I am sorry, madam," she said hastily to Margaret. "I do not mean any disrespect to you, but the law of the Isles will support me. No one can force a woman to marry if she does not want to do so."

"That is true throughout Scotland, my dear," Margaret said. "But you are not thinking clearly, because brutal reality is quite another matter. If people believe, as they will—and, everyone, pray forgive me for putting this so bluntly—if they learn that you have spent time alone with Sir Michael, not just in that galley, coming here, but also in the wee hut you spoke so casually about …" She paused, then added in a rush, "In plain words, you have admitted spending the night with this young man, sleeping in the same bed with him for all we know, and as a result, no other reputable man will want you, because your reputation for chastity will be shattered."

"But I don't want a man," Isobel protested.

"Oh, but that is not all that the loss of one's reputation means," Cristina said. "You do enjoy going to court, Isobel, and taking part in other social activities. But if we allowed you to do so after this particular adventure of yours, people would be shocked and offended. They would say horrible things to you, and to us."

"Then I won't go anywhere," Isobel declared. "I'd rather be ruined than married, and that's the plain truth of the matter. I don't want a husband forever telling me what to do, what to say, and how to think!"

"Is that what you think husbands do?" Lachlan asked.

"Isn't it what most of them try to do?" his wife asked demurely.

A look from him silenced her, but he, too, said no more.

Hector said, "You would have to miss the prince's installation, Isobel."

"I don't care!"

Michael cleared his throat. "Forgive me, all of you, but I will have no part in forcing myself upon an unwilling bride. I am more than willing to marry Lady Isobel if she will agree to it, but I will not abet any scheme to force her agreement."

Feeling tears prick her eyes, Isobel stood up, bobbed a curtsy in the general direction of Princess Margaret, and turned blindly toward the stairway, saying gruffly, "Since the matter is now settled, I will bid you all a good night."

She got only a few steps away before Hector said sternly, "Not just yet, lass."

She stopped but did not turn.

He was beside her the next moment. "We're going to have a talk, you and I," he said, urging her toward the same doorway through which he had taken Michael.

Michael watched her go, marveling at the gentleness in the huge man walking beside her. Although men throughout the Isles might fear Hector the Ferocious, plainly his women did not.

Michael's own father would never have stood for a daughter of his speaking as forthrightly as Lady Isobel had, but neither Hector's size nor his fierce temperament had intimidated her. Indeed, Michael wondered if anything did.

"You need not fear for her, sir," Mairi of the Isles said. "He will do no more than try to make her understand what she faces if she does not marry you."

"I do not fear for her safety, my lady," he said. "I have seen that lass with a dagger in hand, calmly contemplating the murder of the villain who had captured her. She would not thank me for believing she required protection from any man."

"Faith, sir," Lady Cristina said with a wry smile. "I believe you understand my sister better than she understands herself."

"I make no such claim, madam," he said, smiling back. "Nor did I understate my position before," he added with a direct look at Lachlan Lubanach. "If her ladyship does not come to me willingly, I will take my leave of you and head north as soon as my men arrive. My brother did ask me to join him several days before his ceremony, doubtless to lend additional consequence to that drab occasion."

"Do you mock the honor your brother claims?" Princess Margaret asked.

"Nay, madam, although I own, I do not take it as seriously as he does. His grace, your royal father, has declared that no man outside the Scottish royal family may claim to be a prince within the Kingdom of Scotland. Therefore, Henry will hold the rank of Earl of Orkney here, although he will retain the princedom's right to issue his own coins and to exercise judicial authority on his domains, including the powers of the pit and the gallows."

"Will he insist that his brothers be addressed royally?" Margaret asked.

"Mercy," Lady Euphemia exclaimed. "If he does, then our Isobel will be Princess Isobel. I warrant she has not thought about that. What an honor, indeed!"

"So it would be if that were so," Michael said. "I stand as heir apparent now, but Henry's wife expects a child soon, and in any event, after the earldom becomes official here, my title will be simply Lord Michael St. Clair of Roslin. If Lady Isobel does agree to marry me, she will still be no more than my lady wife, I'm afraid."

His brief experience of her assured him that she would hold firm and that he would therefore be wise to accept her refusal with dignity and let her go. However, the notion of Isobel as his wife had taken a stronger hold on his imagination than he had realized, and he found himself wishing that she could bring herself more easily to submit to Hector Reaganach's decree.

A vision slipped into his mind's eye of Isabella of Strathearn's likely reaction to such a union, especially if he presented it to her as a fa?t accompli at Kirkwall just before Henry's installation ceremony. Even the fact that Isobel's name was similar to his mother's would not weigh with Isabella—not positively, at all events.

Maybe Isobel was wiser than she knew.

In the small chamber that Hector used to deal with unimportant visitors to Lochbuie, Isobel watched warily as he shut the door, closing out the rest of the world. Usually such discussions as the one about to take place filled her with trepidation, for he was a stern man when displeased, and thanks to her independent, freedom-loving nature, she had displeased him often over the years.

His scolds always left her feeling limp, because she loved him far more than she loved her father and hated to disappoint him. But an inner spirit often drove her to defend her need to be herself. She had defended it against five older sisters, two younger ones, and her father before coming to live at Lochbuie. To Hector's credit, he had not tried to change her nature, only to teach her discipline and self-protection.

Thus, instead of always punishing her harshly when she taxed his patience, he had given her a dagger, taught her how to use and care for it properly, and had taught her many other, nearly as useful things, as well.

Nevertheless, he did not tolerate defiance from anyone, and she was certainly defying him now, so she knew she ought to be as nervous as she usually was, if not more so. Instead, she felt numb, as if nothing he said or did to her would matter.

To her surprise, he did not begin his tirade the moment the door was shut. Instead, he left her standing just inside while he walked around the table. Even then he did not speak but pulled out the back stool and straddled it, folding his arms across the top of its back and gazing silently, even speculatively, at her.

Grimacing, she looked down at the floor.

"Don't look away, lass," he said.

A tear trickled down her cheek, and her nose began to run. She sniffled and wiped her arm across her face, trying to deal with both details and to look casual about it as she forced herself to look up at him.

He continued to watch her, his gaze as uncomfortably penetrating as it always was. He knew her well, and she wondered if he knew what she was thinking, although she did not really know that herself.

She wished he would speak, would get it over with.

As if she had spoken the thought aloud, he said, "Your attempted departure from the hall just now was a trifle unmannerly, don't you agree?"

Her throat ached, and more of the tears welling in her eyes threatened to spill over. She could not imagine why she wanted to cry. Hector rarely had that effect on her, at least not until he had thoroughly scolded her, or worse.

"What is it, lassie?" he asked gently. "What has upset you so?"

She swallowed hard, exerting herself not to look down again.

He remained silent, patiently waiting for her to speak.

At last, drawing a deep, quavering breath, she said, "I don't know, sir. Maybe I'm just tired. I slept on a hard floor last night, but I also slept much of the way here, so …" Remembering how and where she had wakened, she left the sentence unfinished and, feeling heat in her cheeks, hoped he would not ask what memory was making her blush.

"Marriage is not such a dreadful thing, Isobel. I cannot imagine trying to get on in life without your sister at my side. 'Tis clear that the lad cares for you," he added. "He made no objection to marriage. Indeed, had I not suggested it, I believe he would have done so himself. He clearly sees the wisdom of such a course."

"I don't believe he would have made an offer on his own," she said. "I have found him most biddable, sir. Indeed, he accepts whatever course one suggests to him. For a man, he seems singularly inept at making decisions about what he must do. He always imagines that the worst will happen—always!"

"Does he? I own, I did not take such measure of him when we spoke. But if you believe that, I own I'm surprised that you object to marrying him. Not only do you make him sound the exact opposite of men you say you despise as husbands, but he said exceedingly complimentary things about you."

"Did he?" That Michael had spoken well of her gave her a warm feeling, but she forced herself to ignore it. "He is a kind man, a gentle man," she said. "But although I know you love Cristina, sir, I have seen little else to recommend marriage, and I do not want to marry a man merely because he thinks he has ruined me and must set things right. I know you believe others will shun me or be ashamed of me, but I won't care. I am content here. The children will be delighted if I stay with them, so I won't mind missing Sir Henry's installation. Moreover, Adela has said that she would like to visit me. Perhaps you will say she cannot, but—"

"I'll say no such thing, lassie. Your sisters are welcome at Lochbuie any time they choose to visit here."

"Thank you."

"You are adamant then about rejecting this marriage?"

"Aye, sir, I am."

"Very well, then you may go off to bed and I will make your apologies to the others. I'll also tell Sir Michael that your decision is firm. Since he expects his men to catch up with him here tomorrow, I warrant he'll depart soon afterward."

"Aye," she said, thinking that it would be exactly like Michael to do that.