King's Pawn [Highland Menage 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  “Oh, that hit,” murmured Murray as Roderick puffed up in outrage. “I doubt Laird Graham kens his son is here. Mayhaps the lad has sprung the trap too early?”

  The pompous young man took a step forward. A giant orange cat brushed past Isabel’s skirts to stand in front of her. It had one ear, a bent tail that thrashed in fury, and rat-catcher teeth, which it bared at Roderick, hissing. This must be Tommy of the cream. Roderick took a step back.

  “You willna marry another,” he said to Isabel when the cat didn’t move. “My father made sure you went nowhere, so none ken you are here.” He crossed his arms. With both sides of his mouth pulled down he looked like a hairy fish. “Soon you’ll be mine to do with as I choose. I’ll brick up those garret windows and lock you in with naught but a bucket. I’ll chain you to the floor and use you as I wish. None will say nay to a man’s right to discipline his wife.” He sent a glare at Tommy. “And I’ll kill all your cats and make you watch!”

  He whirled around and headed for his horse. He’d barely taken a step when Isabel roared a word never heard in polite company. The rolling pin spun beautifully before hitting the back of his head with a dull thud. He yelped and crashed to his hands and knees on the cobbles. The rolling pin landed with a clatter.

  “The lass has good aim,” murmured Murray. Roderick climbed to his feet, one hand on the back of his head, the other tight in a fist. He turned, his face that of a vicious brute with deadly intent. Murray stepped out from around the corner. “Are ye wishing for some ribbands and thread, my lady?” he called out. “I be a peddler of such.”

  Roderick stopped abruptly. He turned. “Begone!” he roared.

  “Nay.”

  Murray made a show of pulling a large lace handkerchief from his pocket. He made a leg, giving Isabel a full French court bow with lots of fluttering lace. He winked at her when he rose, using the eye Roderick could not see. She pressed her lips together, eyes sparkling. While he didn’t think this third, equally dimwitted son of George Graham would recognize him, he pulled his bonnet lower over the eye facing the man.

  “I shall leave if the lady wishes,” he said to Roderick. “I heard ye say she owns this place and ordered ye to be gone. Are ye the king, her laird, father, brother, or husband? Or mayhaps ye have a signed contract of betrothal? Nay?” Roderick stared as if Murray spoke a different language. No, the man was just stupid. “Then the lass doesna need to harken to yer bellows.”

  “Thank ye.” Isabel surprised him with a wobbly but deep court curtsy. “Would ye wish some ale to quench yer thirst, kind sir?”

  “Aye, my lady, that I would. If yer wee Tommy doesna mind?”

  “Tommy?”

  “Aye, he seems to be the man of this place.” He pointed to the cat who, tail flicking ominously, kept his eye on the threat posed by Roderick.

  “You willna be so bold after I have you for a wee while,” said Roderick as his final attack. He mounted, wincing as he bent his banged-up knees. He made his horse rear, hooves pawing, before he thundered out of the yard.

  “Toodle-do!” Murray waved his lace hanky after him. “Tch, methinks the horse has more sense than the wee laddie riding it.”

  “He’s not that wee,” said Isabel ruefully. She rubbed her arms as if suddenly chilled.

  “Mayhaps for a Lowlander,” he replied, making it an insult. “They grow them bigger and better in the Highlands, lass. There ye find men who ken how to be both gentleman and warrior.” He dropped to one knee and patted his thigh. Tommy padded over, crooked tail high. “Ah, what a braw laddie ye are.” He scratched around the cat’s ear and chin and was rewarded with a loud, rasping purr.

  “I’ve not seen Tommy act like that to a stranger.” Isabel’s hesitant smile showed her true beauty. “Ye must be a good man. I have ale with fresh bread, cheese, and a pot of bramble jam in the kitchen. Or honey, if ye like.”

  His stomach grumbled. Her laugh reminded him of the purest bells in Stirling.

  “A big man such as yerself will need more than bread.” She retrieved her rolling pin and ran her hand over it. “Good,” she said, nodding with satisfaction. “’Twasn’t harmed by bouncing off an oaf. Do come in.”

  “I wouldna wish to put ye out, my lady. And I can eat here.”

  “Nonsense. As ye heard, I get few visitors.” She patted her own flat belly when it grumbled. “It seems banishing louts makes a lass famished.”

  “Are ye alone? I shouldna come in—”

  “Janet should be back from the village and wee Jenny’s hiding in the garret. She’ll be down now Roderick is gone. She doesna like the way he peers at her.” She shuddered. “Nor do I, but I’m a woman grown and have a good aim.” She tilted her head up at him, her look inquiring. “Ye are familiar, sir. Have I seen ye afore?”

  His unremarkable face, resembling many clans but none in particular, helped him do his job. Few looked at him when he wore his bright tabard and even fewer cared about a man selling trinkets.

  “Mayhaps. I’ve traveled far and wide, and my face is oft thought familiar.”

  “Nay, ’tis yer voice.” She laughed. “When I hear ye, I think of a lion. ’Tis strange, for I havena seen one of the beasts.”

  “Well, I do like cats.” He followed it up with an old man’s smile for a pretty lass. She smiled back, waiting for him to pick up his pack before leading the way inside.

  He’d known Isabel was quick when he’d first met her. She’d been about eight, a thin stick of a lass, all hair, big eyes, and wide smile. She’d been in the care of her nursemaid, Janet Wilkie, while her mother visited an old friend. When word came that her father was sick, her mother left Isabel behind with Janet and rushed home to care for him. They’d both died soon after. Murray had a few ideas about poison, but nothing could be proved. Isabel was the only heir to both sides of the family. If she wasn’t aware she owned Calltuin, she wouldn’t know about all the other properties in her vast dowry. Laird Graham would, however.

  Calltuin, named after the hazel groves that covered the hills, was built for comfort more than defense. The stone walls were not thick and many windows graced the upper floors. It had two staircases, four floors, six fireplaces, and a pair of garrets that projected over the north and south towers. It had once been an elegant home. He wondered how much Graham had left behind for Isabel to use.

  Isabel turned to the right. He followed her down a dim passageway into the stone-vaulted kitchen. On his left was a good-sized fireplace. A round bread oven was built into the side. Two small windows let in light. Under one of them was a padded bench. Two cats regarded him with narrowed eyes. Tommy joined them with a purrupt.

  Isabel made a welcoming gesture. “Sit and help yerself.”

  She’d had a few shocks courtesy of Graham yet hadn’t collapsed in a faint or gone into hysterics. His opinion of her went up even more. She should not be destroyed by a brute. He pulled off his bonnet.

  “Could I wash up?” He pointed to the slop basin built into the wall. “Does the water go outside so ye dinna have to carry it?”

  “Aye, ’tis as wonderful as the hole ye pour water through to fill the barrel. See it under the stairs?”

  He backtracked to look. It would save many steps but could be easily poisoned. He would suggest she put a lid on the barrel first thing. He turned his back on her to wash. It said much about how she was raised that she didn’t comment. Few rough men carrying a pack would think of cleaning their hands to eat. The sound of bread being carved made him smile. It was a homey touch, one he’d missed. He’d decided this would be his last assignment. He had a wife now, much younger but happy to be with him rather than living in her brother’s home as a servant.

  “I be Parlan the Peddler, mistress.”

  “As ye heard I be Isabel, a ward of the king.” She paused. “It is true that Laird Graham cannot wed me to his son without permission of King James?”

  He shook his hands dry as he turned. She set her knife to cut another thick slice, her brows furrowed. In conc
entration, or worry? Likely it was both.

  “Aye, just as a lass needs her father’s permission to marry, a ward needs the king’s. Most times he tells her who he’s chosen before the ceremony. Now and then he sends part of his army to make sure the husband is allowed into the surprised bride’s castle. Or the other way around.”

  When the bride held a large dowry the king sent high-level advisors to watch the bedding and ensure the marriage was consummated. When Murray had that assignment he spoke harshly to the groom in advance as to his behavior with his new bride, ensured he was not far into his cups before entering the bedding chamber, and threatened the groom to take enough time to soothe and arouse the young virgin.

  He hated to hear the screams of a terrified lass as her drunk husband ripped into her, taking his marital rights with no thought to his bride. As Roderick would no doubt enjoy doing to Isabel. Not on his watch!

  Isabel’s hand trembled on the knife. “Is it true that a man could show up here with a paper in his hand, wave it at me, and demand I allow him into my bed?”

  The lass had no idea of the extent of her dowry. Her husband would be carefully chosen so that the king would be seen to be honorable yet could keep as much of her lands as possible. For the use of the Crown, of course. Her mother was from the Middle March area, so some of Isabel’s dowry lands lay near the English border. The new owners had to be carefully chosen to ensure they were supporters of the king, rather than putting their own clan first. The Douglas clan, in particular, was one to watch.

  “Aye, but proxy marriages are mostly when the clans of the bride and groom have a feud the king wishes to stop,” he replied. “If a wedding is held with them present, there may be a blade slipped where it shouldn’t and ’twould prolong the feud rather than stopping it. Does yer clan have a long-standing bloody feud?” She shook her head. “Then ’tisn’t likely that ye’ll be wed by proxy.”

  Her shoulders dropped from their position near her ears.

  “Janet Wilkes, my companion, said Laird Graham told her my father left me naught but debts, and he was being kind by allowing me to live here and work, so I should be grateful. When Roderick showed up, I thought it meant I was to pay for those years with my body, but ’tis Calltuin he wants.”

  “Ye own all this, and Graham let ye think ye had naught, and were nothing?” She nodded without looking up. Her face was red, as if embarrassed. “Ah, that’s a grave offense, lass. An insult to a ward of the king is an insult to His Majesty.”

  “As I canna leave, none will ever ken it,” she replied, dejected.

  “I must travel west first, but I’ll be returning this way, going to Doune and then Stirling. Do ye wish me to pass a word at Stirling Castle for ye?”

  Chapter Two

  Her hand went to her flat chest. Her eyes pleaded with him.

  “Ye wouldna believe it from how I dress and speak, but I am Lady Isabel, daughter of Lady Elizabeth Elliot of Roxburgh and Laird David Graham. Could ye take a message to the king for me?” She blushed, dropping her head. “Well, not the king, but one who might pass my message on to another, and another, and so get close. My only hope is to marry someone other than Roderick Graham.”

  He knew that much just from listening for a few minutes. “What would ye say to King James if ye could?”

  She busied herself cutting cheese. She set a slice on the thick piece of bread and dotted it with bramble jam. She likely made the cheese, bread, and jam. He expected she could shear her sheep, spin the wool, dye, and weave it as well. And think nothing of it, as it was part of work needing to be done. She may have been born a lady but she had not been raised as one. Most men would want her only for her dowry as she’d be a liability at court.

  “I would tell the king that as his ward, and his loyal subject, I will of course marry to please him. But if he could find a kind man I’d be grateful. I dinna care if he’s old as long as he has a bit of wit and willna beat me too hard.” Tommy jumped to the floor and strolled through her legs. She looked down with a half smile, dropping a piece of cheese. He pounced on it like a kitten. “Even better if he likes cats. They are such good friends.” She finally looked him in the eyes. “I have a few coins saved, for yer trouble.”

  “I willna take yer money, lass, but when I get to Stirling Castle I will ask that word of ye reaches the ear of a man who kens His Majesty.”

  After what he’d just seen he would politely encourage the king to give Isabel to one who would treat her well. He had a long ride to the western shore to complete first, but when he returned to Stirling he’d report all to his liege.

  “When King James didna marry me off by sixteen I thought he’d forgotten about me.” She cut another slice, though very slowly. “I believed I was just another penniless orphan. I will soon be one-and-twenty, and I wish for a family and bairns of my own.” The knife stopped. “I canna stomach the thought of Roderick touching me.” She shuddered. “Janet heard he took some maids that were later beaten badly for speaking of his wee pintle. He’s not made any bastards off them so I wonder if he could even give me a babe.”

  Murray choked, coughing to cover up his surprise at a virgin lady knowing such things. But Isabel would have seen animals mating and overheard village women talking, perhaps even seen them tupping in the spring fields to encourage the crops to grow. It suggested even more that Graham had purposefully kept her ignorant of the ways of a lady. Her ignorance of things highborn women were taught would reduce her attraction should Graham be ordered to produce her at court. That meant a greater chance she’d have to marry his son.

  “Will ye nay sit?”

  He shook his head. “A gentleman doesna do such in the presence of a lady unless she is also sitting.”

  “Oh.” Isabel’s blush showed her embarrassment. “I remember Janet speaking of that. I’ll get wee Jenny, and then ye can open yer pack. I’ll spend my coins on a few things for all yer trouble.”

  “’Twas no trouble—”

  “Nay,” she held up her hand. “I wish to get a few gifts. I couldna go to the Callander fair as Laird Graham was said to be going and I coulda chance him seeing me. I’ve been hoping for a peddler to come by for a few years, now.”

  “Ye dinna wish sommat for yerself?”

  “I have all I need. Food, warmth, clothing, friends, and a home.” Her smile faded. “All I need is a good husband. One who’s touch doesna feel like a slimy slug.” She shuddered.

  Sir Parlan bedded down in the Calltuin stable that night. He left shortly after dawn with a sack of bread and cheese carried to him by Jenny, trailed by her cats. He’d not had bread made with ground hazel flour before and would savor the treat. He left all the things from his pack behind after telling Jenny he was weary of travel and wished to leave these gifts to thank them for their hospitality. He also said he hoped to see them again and would pass on Isabel’s message in hopes it would reach the ear of King James. Jenny had been wide-eyed at the treasure. He wondered what garbled message Isabel would get from her.

  He collected his horse, having left it in the village to be reshod, and rode northeast to Callander to collect his pair of guards. Listening to his hunches had brought him in a large detour to Aberfoyle and now Calltuin, but it was worth it. His men would have picked up as much information on Laird Graham of Duchray as possible.

  The man had taken enough from Isabel. Murray would arrange for gowns and such to be prepared for her in Callander, on Duchray’s account, so she’d not be shamed at court. He’d noticed how shallowly she breathed, which suggested her breasts were bound. He’d tell the seamstress to ensure the gowns had ample room. She’d need a hooded cloak, a warm one, with a matching muff. Yes, he would be very pleased to spend Duchray’s money on Isabel.

  She was happy here at Calltuin, which affected his next assignment. He was to bring Laird Somerled MacDougal to Stirling Castle as the king wished to reward him with a wife. Murray had wondered if Isabel and Somerled were connected in the king’s mind. The push to marry Somerle
d was due to lords Fraser and MacKenzie writing to the king praising the MacDougals who’d married into their clans. Even the Earl of Caithness was somewhat satisfied now his remaining child had produced another grandson for him.

  Clan MacDougal was ancient but had little left but pride and Duncladach, a castle smaller than Calltuin but with an imposing curtain wall surrounding it. The sixteen brothers were mostly tall and dark. All were fearsome warriors. He would think on Isabel when he met Somerled, but he doubted she would be happy away from her home. Somerled was said to be difficult so would need a feisty wife such as Isabel. Given a choice between Roderick and Calltuin, or Somerled and his twin, Niall, she would likely prefer to be at Duncladach.

  There was that wee complication due to the MacDougals marrying a wife in pairs. He still thought Isabel would rather take a chance with two MacDougals than one Roderick Graham. He would see what the future brought.

  One thing it would bring was an accounting of all monies supposedly spent on Isabel compared to what Graham had taken for himself. Graham would return the difference, with interest, along with all the furniture he’d taken from Calltuin. Murray had taken a quick peek upstairs and discovered the place had been stripped to bare floors and walls. A spinning wheel and stool along with a loom sat in the sun on the second floor, but that was about all.

  Laird Graham would not easily give up the prize he had eagerly anticipated. Who would live here if not Isabel? Six MacDougals had married, which left five pairs, one of which might suit Isabel, and Calltuin. The house was a good size for a family. MacDougals were tall, and since Calltuin House was built for large men they’d not have to duck their heads to get through the doorways. They were also known to make women happy in the bedchamber.

  He had an affection for the lass, having brought her to Duchray Castle when she was orphaned. He would see her given a chance for happiness with a pair of honorable men.