Page 35 of A Knight To Call My Own
Chapter Nineteen
This time, Lynet did noteven attempt to conceal her smile of delight his words had given her. Still hesitant to be brought afore his mother, looking as she did, any further protest she may have given ended the minute Ian leaned down and placed an affectionate kiss upon her cheek. A gasp echoed through the crowd at his gesture. Lynet was unsure exactly who had been the person who was not happy with such a public display of affection. She only hoped ’twasnothis mother.
Numb to almost everything around her, Lynet merely followed as Ian took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm to lead her through the crowd. Voices rose in intensity as whispers from those gathered wondering who she was rushed like the wind through the treetops. A quick peek through her lashes confirmed Lynet’s gravest trepidations. The woman standing still as stone at the top of the stairway was unmistakably annoyed with what was transpiring around her, evidenced by the fact her face was turning an unsightly shade of red.
With a deep calming breath, she climbed the stairs, feeling as though she was attempting to scale the tallest of mountains. She fell into a deep curtsey and waited, much as Ian had done, for his mother’s acknowledgment. ’Twas not to come.
Ian took her elbow to help her rise, but ’twas the look on his face that told Lynet of the true emotions running amuck inside her husband’s mind.
“You do my lady a disservice by ignoring her, madam. This is my wife, Lady Lynet of Berwyck. As such, she deserves your respect as mistress of this clan, if nothing else,” Ian said through clenched teeth. His flat tone was low for his mother’s ears alone, although ’twas clear the woman standing behind his dame heard his words.
“But, Lady Fiona, how could this be? What of…” Ian’s mother paid her no mind, interrupting the perplexed woman with her own query of her son.
“You have wed with an Englishwoman? You must be mad!” his mother snarled.
Ian brought Lynet closer to his side. “She is of Clan MacLaren. Surely, you have heard of her people.”
“Harrumph…lowlanders,” Fiona sneered, looking down her nose at Lynet. “I heard tell her father married an Englishwoman in order to take over her estate. Rumor has it he would have pledged his loyalty to that English pig of a king if he had not fallen instead.”
“You should not slander His Majesty’s good name, mother, for even I had sworn fealty to King Henry, no matter that I now serve Scotland.”
“Berwyck…’tis quite large, is it not?”
Lynet tried her best not to let her temper flare, even though she swore she could all but hear the chinking of coins being counted in his mother’s head. “Why does the size of Berwyck matter, my lady?” Lynet asked, raising her chin and feeling no need to let on she had a considerable dowry. “I am but a younger sister in that household.”
Fiona rolled her eyes in obvious disgust. “By the blessed Saints, Ian,” she all but cursed him, “could you not, at the very least, even wed with the eldest daughter?”
The old woman might as well have slapped her across the face, although, Ian’s mother knew not how much such an accusation tore at Lynet’s heart. She began to fidget as Ian’s mother made a circular motion of her hand towards her. Lynet looked at Ian, and he shrugged his shoulders, so Lynet proceeded to turn around so this obnoxious woman could inspect her, as though she were a piece of livestock to be closely inspected afore being purchased. When she had completed a full circle, Lynet once more looked directly at her husband’s dame and waited for her pronouncement.
“I am Lady Fiona,” she declared proudly. Nothing in her expression led Lynet to believe they would become friends anytime soon.
“Madam,” she replied with a slight nod of her head.
Lady Fiona turned her back on Lynet and whispered something to the woman behind her. She then had the gall to give a most annoying laugh that was anything but flattering when she peered again at Lynet. Her steely glare returned to her son. “Really, Ian, could you not do better than take to wife some woman who appears as if she has crawled out from beneath a thistle bush?” she sniggered.
The hair on the back of Lynet’s neck rose in indignation. How dare this woman speak to her in such a manner! Her mouth was poised to open a sharp retort, but instead, she remained silent, as Ian spoke on her behalf.
“She does have a prickly temper, of which I must say, I approve,” Ian softly chuckled, bringing her cool hand again up to his lips. Their eyes lingered one to the other, causing Lynet’s heart to quicken. “’Twill keep things interesting, will it not my dear?”
“Most assuredly, my laird,” Lynet calmly replied. She watched as Ian’s brow rose in amusement at her acknowledgement he was indeed her lord. ’Twas almost as if they shared a private jest between them, and a laugh escaped her mouth. “Do not get used to that, Ian.”
He threw his head back in merriment. “And yet, you have now used my proper title twice, dear lady, despite your vow to not let it pass your lips.”
Lady Fiona cleared her throat and abruptly brought them back to the realization people were still watching their every move and listening intently to their conversation.
“Has the marriage been consummated?” his mother all but jeered.
“I beg your pardon, madam?” Lynet was aghast she would ask such of them with all of Urquhart looking upon them, waiting for an answer.
Could such a smile be construed as anything else but malicious? “Ah…I see,” Lady Fiona said with satisfaction. “Then, there is still hope.”
“Hope for what?” Lynet murmured, almost afraid to hear where this woman’s thoughts were going to lead.
Lady Fiona’s face lit up in happiness as if all was going to right itself in her world. “Why there is hope this misunderstanding between the two of you can as yet be undone, of course. My son can then marry a proper Highland lass of the clan’s choosing.”
Lynet actually gasped at what she was hearing. Never had she thought her and Ian’s handfasting was anything other than a true marriage, no matter that they had not as yet carried out the act of truly becoming one. An embarrassing blush began to creep across Lynet’s face. If Ian were to denounce her, she would be returned home to Berwyck a ruined woman. No man of any standing, be he titled or not, would have her then.
Once again, Ian came to her rescue, saving her from any further disgracing remarks by his mother. Leaving Lynet’s side, he quickly strode to Lady Fiona to take her upper arm in a firm grip.
