Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy Two 02] (18 page)

“Not for herself,” Amalie blurted without thinking.

Sibylla gave her throaty chuckle and said, “So that’s it, is it? But what about—? Och then, never mind,” she added. “We should both know better than to speak without thinking, my dear, but I’ve never learned the trick of that, myself.”

“I warrant you just want to know if I’ve changed my mind,” Amalie said, smiling. “I have spoken often enough of my decision to remain unwed. At present, though, my family has other plans for me.”

“Then ’tis good we have laws protecting us against unwanted marriages.”

“I just hope my mother knows about those laws.”

Isabel’s chaplain stood to speak the grace before meat, and as he did, Amalie saw that Garth had come in. Feeling her cheeks flush as his gaze met hers, she turned away, hoping he could not see any added color from where he stood and would think she was simply paying closer heed to the chaplain’s words.

She was glad to see him, but she was not looking forward to the meal.

From the hall’s main entrance, Garth took in the scene before him while the chaplain finished his prayer. His gaze lighting first on Amalie, he caught her eye and noted the relief on her always-expressive face.

When the chaplain finished, and Isabel’s carver began to carve the haunch of mutton, Garth strode to the place at the end of the men’s side that the others had left for him. Since it put him next to the taciturn senior knight, Sir Kenneth Maclean, with no one on his other side, he was content.

Sir Iagan had the place of honor at Isabel’s right with Boyd on his right. Simon was next, and his younger brother, Tom, sat between Simon and Maclean.

Although Garth took care to let his expression reveal none of his thoughts, he believed now that the lass had correctly deduced her family’s intent.

There could be no other reason for Boyd to sit next to Sir Iagan. That place, by rights, belonged to Simon, so Boyd would not be there unless Sir Iagan or Simon had asked Isabel to allow it and she had agreed. As the least experienced of her knights, Boyd’s proper place was below Garth on the end stool.

At Sweethope, the princess’s knights and ladies dined with her on the dais unless she had too many guests. Other members of her household, except the kitchen staff, dined at a trestle table at the lower end of the hall.

Her men-at-arms ate and slept in the dormerlike building east of the stables and took their meals there as well, the hall not being large enough to contain so many. The men in Sir Iagan’s tail would be taking their meal in the dormer now, and would set up an encampment for themselves that afternoon near Eden Water.

Garth was grateful for Sir Kenneth’s silence. It let him hear enough of the other men’s conversation to realize that Sir Iagan was trying rather unsuccessfully to learn more about Boyd’s antecedents and expectations. It also let him overhear Tom Murray make two decidedly improper remarks about his sister.

From a grunt he heard after the second one, Simon had used an elbow to see that there’d be no more of them. Still, Garth knew that if he had heard them, so had Sir Kenneth and Boyd. Pondering the remarks, he recalled Amalie’s distrust of men.

If young Murray lingered at Sweethope, he would learn to mind his tongue.

Amalie, too, had seen Sir Harald sit next to her father. Lady Murray had also noticed, because she said in a carrying tone, “I see that you keep a number of handsome knights in your household, madam. They must be a comfort to you.”

Amalie shook her head at the platter of lamb collops a gillie offered for her selection. She could not think of her mother, Sir Harald, and food at the same time.

Ears aprick, she heard Isabel say evenly, “The Douglas provides my escort, just as his predecessor did.”

“I should think your husband, Sir John Edmonstone, would do so.”

“Do you?” Isabel replied. “He does presently provide one knight. But I can count on Douglas to provide as many as I need whenever I need them.”

“I warrant Sir Harald Boyd is one of the more dependable ones, is he not?”

Amalie gritted her teeth as she rearranged food on her trencher.

“As to that, I cannot say,” Isabel said. “He has been in my service only a short time. Did you enjoy your journey, madam? To have taken a full sennight to reach us, I imagine you visited a number of friends and kinsmen along the way.”

Susan began talking to the lady Nancy then, and although they kept their voices low, Amalie could no longer hear the other conversation without straining, so she tried to apply herself to her food instead.

“You must like it here,” Rosalie said.

Smiling at her, Amalie said, “I do, aye.”

“Are the other ladies nice?”

“Aye, sure,” she said, aware that Sibylla was certainly listening. She knew, too, that Susan was likely to overhear anything negative. Susan always did seem to hear anything that she might construe as a slight to herself.

“Is that why you do not come home?” Rosalie asked wistfully.

Guilt washed over Amalie. She had not spared a thought for Rosalie, assuming that her younger sister continued to enjoy their father’s favor and their mother’s, as she had from the day of her birth. Even Simon adored Rosalie.

“Do you miss me?” Amalie asked, looking more closely at her.

“It is lonely without you. The coronation was the most exciting thing that has happened in the past two years. The rest has been deadly dull.”

“Well, Scott’s Hall lies farther from Elishaw than Sweethope Hill does. Mayhap now that I’m closer, I can visit you more easily, or you can visit me.”

“I’d like that. I just wish we could stay longer now. But our lady mother is eager to be with Meg for her lying-in.”

“Is that where you go from here? It would have been faster to go directly to Scott’s Hall from Edinburgh, taking the drove road through Ettrick Forest.”

Rosalie flushed. “Aye, perhaps,” she said, adding in a lower tone, “Mother and Simon wanted to come here first. In troth, I think Mother wanted to ride with Simon in the Governor’s train. When she learned that the Governor meant to stay at Lauder and then travel through the Borders —a progress, he called it—she said we should come here to visit you. She said—” Breaking off and looking rueful, Rosalie added, “But I must not repeat what she said. She told me I must not.”

“Never mind, for I can imagine,” Amalie said. “I have met Sir Harald. Moreover, Simon ordered me at Yuletide to begin thinking of marriage, and then our parents said at Scone that they knew just the man I should marry, so—”

“Faith, did they do all that? No one told me. But if Simon wanted you to marry Sir Harald at Yuletide, why did they not press the matter before now?”

“I do not know if he had Sir Harald in mind then, and I do not care,” Amalie said, struggling to keep her voice down. “I do not mean to marry, ever. But what of you? Are there no handsome men dangling after you, dearling? You are growing to be a woman, and if all your gowns suit you as well as that one does . . .”

Rosalie grimaced. “Sithee, they are the opposite with me. Mother says I am too young, although I’m thirteen and girls marry even younger. Only think of Margaret of Strathearn, married already to Sir Patrick Graham! She is only six!”

“Mercy, that young?”

“Our lady mother said so, aye. But my father says he cannot afford to dower more than one more daughter. He said it nearly beggared him to pay Meg’s dowry.”

“Doubtless that will come as a surprise to Wat and Meg,” Amalie said dryly, knowing that Wat had had to file a grievance against Sir Iagan before he saw any of Meg’s dowry. Still, she knew that her father hated to part with his gelt, so she said, “Father just wants to keep you at home because he dotes on you. And doubtless Mother values your companionship, as well.”

“That is all very well,” Rosalie said. “But the only men who pay attention to me other than Father are my brothers.”

A shiver of warning stirred along Amalie’s spine. “How . . . how much attention do Simon and Tom pay you, dearling? Sithee, you should not spend time alone with any man now that you are growing up so quickly, not even brothers.”

Rosalie shrugged. “I rarely see Simon because of his duty to Fife, but Tom comes home frequently. After that business at Hermitage, there was a fearful row—well, after the Douglases chose their third earl—because he demanded a fine for trying to seize the castle. And the Border Wardens forced Father to pay Simon and Tom’s share, because Fife refused to let Simon pay and Tom could not afford to.”

“They should both be grateful that Archie did not hang them,” Amalie said tartly. “That is what they deserved for what they did.”

“Bless me,” Sibylla said, startling Amalie, who in her annoyance with her brothers had forgotten the other young woman’s excellent hearing. “Were your brothers involved in that business, my dear? How remarkable!”

That comment making further discussion of the topic impossible for Amalie, if not for Sibylla or Rosalie, she firmly turned the conversation to other matters.

In Garth’s opinion, the meal was overlong. The princess rarely employed performers to entertain her, so the plentiful midday dinners and lighter evening suppers he had taken in her company since arriving at Sweethope Hill had been simple, friendly, and quickly over.

To be sure, this was the first time he had seen her with visitors. Clearly, she was exerting herself to be a good hostess.

Lady Murray was doing much of the talking at the women’s end of the table. Sir Iagan showed interest only in Boyd’s discourse or Simon’s.

“Thinks much of himself, that one,” Sir Kenneth muttered when Boyd’s voice rose as he described some feat or other on the battlefield. No, not a feat, Garth amended silently. It was something amusing, because the others were laughing.

“I don’t know him,” Garth said. “Do you?”

“I know Fife knighted him, or that some vassal knight of his did—and not long since, either,” Sir Kenneth said, taking care not to let his voice reach Tom Murray. “Puffed up with conceit, that lad is, and I’m none so sure he tells the truth about himself. And if he does not speak truly of himself . . .” He shrugged.

“Then likely he lies about other things, too,” Garth said.

“Aye. And it sounds as if the Murrays plan to add him to the family.”

Garth grimaced. “They may hope.”

Sir Kenneth shot him a quizzing look from under his bushy eyebrows, but Garth said no more.

As the two were leaving the dais a short time later, to walk to the men’s dormer and discuss the training sessions they were arranging, Garth heard Lady Murray say, “I am so pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Harald. I have heard many good things about you, have I not, sir?” she added, turning to her husband.

“Och, aye,” Sir Iagan said. “He’s doubtless a fine fellow.”

Lady Murray went on to say, “As the drizzle has stopped, I mean to walk in the walled garden with my daughter Amalie, Sir Harald. Perhaps you would care to join us. I’ve no doubt she would like to know you better, just as I would.”

Shooting a look at Amalie, Garth saw her irritation. But to his surprise, Sir Iagan said, “Ye’ll have to take your turn, my lady. I ken fine that ye’d talk more with the lass, but I’ve scarce had a word with her yet. Amalie, lass, if ye’d please your father, ye’ll walk down with me to see if Eden Water still teems with trout.”

“You will find that it does, Sir Iagan,” Isabel said with a smile. “You may go with him, Amalie. Sir Harald, you must report to Sir Kenneth. And, Rosalie, perhaps you would like to join my ladies and me in a stroll round my garden. You are welcome to join us, madam, unless you would prefer to nap in your chamber.”

“I’d best go and see that my woman has all in hand there,” Lady Murray said. “Rosalie can come with me. You’ve no need to trouble yourself with her.”

“I shall enjoy making her acquaintance,” Isabel assured her. “Come along, Rosalie. I like to show the garden to my visitors.”

Garth’s gaze found Amalie’s again as she gave her father’s arm a squeeze.

Relieved to see her smile, he turned back to find that Sir Kenneth had already left the hall. He hurried to catch up with him.

“ ’Tis a pleasant place, this, even on such a day,” Sir Iagan said as he and Amalie strolled through the still dripping front garden, past the horse pond, to the graveled track near the stables. The sky remained heavily overcast. The air was still.

“ ’Tis a perfect day for trout to rise,” Amalie agreed, looking up at him and trying to judge his thoughts from his expression. She had never found that easy, despite the knack she had for reading other people.

“Sithee, your mam still wants ye to come home,” he said, staring straight ahead as if he did not want to see her reaction. “Mayhap she will change her mind, though, now that she kens Sir Harald is here at Sweethope.”

“I shall not change
my
mind, sir,” Amalie said. “I do not mean to be disobedient or obstinate, but—”

“Now then, lass,” he said, looking at her at last. “I can tell your mother has been screeching at ye, for I doubt ye think o’ yourself as obstinate. I surely do not.”

“She told me I am not yet of age, which is true, sir, and that I owe you my obedience. Most people would agree that that is also true.”

“I must say that, having found nowt to disfavor the man, I canna think why ye’ve taken so strongly against him. He seems a good chap, and he’s won his spurs and all. No mean feat, that is, as I can tell ye. Sakes, but it be more than either o’ your brothers has done. I’d never expect it of Tom, for he’s more interested in his lute and charming the ladies than in fighting. I warrant he’d have had to learn though, by choice or no, had I been a more belligerent man m’self.”

“But you are not, sir.”

“Nay, for by building powerful alliances on both sides o’ the line, I’ve kept us safe enough without fighting. I did expect more of Simon, but he’s a good man, and skilled with a sword. To be fair, though, with a master like Fife, who does his best to keep from the thick of battle, Simon’s had no chance to win his spurs.”

“No, sir,” Amalie said, certain in her own mind that Simon had never sought such a chance. He thought his position with Fife sufficient to gain all he wanted.