Page 81 of The Scottish Bride
“I noticed,” Kirsty said. “He mentioned that you married him, but you have not said a word of it yet!”
“There is so much to tell you. Did Liam explain it is a handfasting, not a true marriage? We had to do that because Sir Malise has become a threat.”
“I know Malise demanded that you marry him, so you ran. Finley told me.”
“Ran! I leaped from the very tower.” Tamsin gave a rueful laugh. “Oh, Kirsty, I had to leave Dalrinnie as fast as possible. I wish you had been with me, I do. I would have agreed to a convent if the king had ordered it. I was prepared for that. But Edward ordered Sir Malise to marry me. Part of some scheme to ensure that Dalrinnie is completely in their control, I think. So I panicked and left.”
“You did what you had to do. Had I been there, I would have gone out that window with you. Is Lady Edith still there?”
“Likely so. She had fits over me dropping out the window—all the bed linens and things, you would have laughed so to see it. She did not laugh, but still, she was a help to me. I asked her to make sure Oonagh was safe—Malise did not like the dog. And I hope he is not tormenting Edith over my departure right under her nose.”
“If we are lucky, she is tormenting him.”
Tamsin laughed. “Sir Davey would not allow his sister to be mistreated. But Sir Malise might expect her to serve ale and chop carrots. He has no respect for women, I think.” She shook her head sadly. “I wonder if I will ever see Dalrinnie again, even with Liam being—” She stopped.
“Liam being what?”
Tamsin took her cousin’s arm, leaning close. “Did I mention that Sir John never said much about the previous owner of Dalrinnie? He hinted the man was dead and forgotten. But the true owner of Dalrinnie, by Scots law—is Sir William Seton.”
“Liam?”
“Aye. Forfeited, outlawed, and determined to gain it back, I can tell you.”
“Could that be the reason you he married? It could prevent Malise from trying to do so. But—could Liam regain Dalrinnie through you this way?”
“He says not. There is a jumble of English law and Scots law, while Edward freely grants Scottish lands and titles that he does not oversee except by tyranny. If the English possess Dalrinnie, that settles it, to their way of thinking.”
“You could return there if the Scots take it.”
“Years from now, perhaps. That is too far ahead to think about.” She might no longer be married to Liam then, she thought. “My things are there—my books, and the chests and boxes in storage that came with me from Kincraig. Some of it was part of my tocher, though Sir John spent any dowry that was in actual coin.”
“Regaining Dalrinnie would take an attack now,” Kirsty said. “They say Bruce has gained back some castles, but lives are lost, property too. Papa says Bruce evacuates people and then burns Scottish castles before he will ever let the English have them.”
“Burn now, rebuild later,” Tamsin said. “No wonder Bruce is proving a fierce foe. He might burn Dalrinnie rather than let the English keep it.”
“Perhaps.” Kirsty walked beside her for a moment. “Tamsin, have you heard of the curse of Dalrinnie?”
“The what?”
“My father mentioned it, but you never spoke of it, although you lived there.”
“I never heard it. A curse?”
“Curse or prophecy—it came from Thomas the Rhymer. I thought you knew.”
Startled, Tamsin stopped and stared at her. “What did Thomas say?”
“Apparently many years ago, he said none who hold Dalrinnie will keep it, until something happens. But Papa could not remember the whole of it. Something about barons losing the castle. And something about a harper. That caught my attention.”
“I know nothing of it. But I do not know all that Grandda said or predicted—no one ever will. Sir John never mentioned it, so perhaps only family know about it.” She resolved to ask Liam when the chance arose. But she wondered if she had overlooked it among the Rhymer’s notes; she would search those old, worn scraps of writing again.
“Every castle in Scotland has its legend or its ghost, I think. And if there is a curse on Dalrinnie, let it fall on Malise and no one else,” Kirsty said firmly.
“Just so.” Tamsin frowned, thoughts whirling. Was there some connection between Thomas and Dalrinnie?
Isobel, always gracefulin Liam’s regard, had a pinkish and healthy glow as she sat smiling up at him. She was dressed as simply as any crofter wife in a long brown tunic and wrapped boots of soft leather, her sleek dark hair plaited in two long braids. The last he had seen her, she had been a pale, silent, elegant lady with dark shadows under her eyes, haunted by secrets. Inner calm shone through her now, though only natural backbone had helped her survive being used by others to prophesy against her will—and to endure an English siege before James Lindsay had found her.
Well, Liam remembered, initially James had abducted Isobel, believing that one of her so-called prophecies had deliberately ruined him, caused harm to his family, even worse, impacted Wallace’s death. James had only the truth, but soonenough, Liam’s friend had discovered that Isobel was more a victim than James realized—
