Page 37 of A Knight To Call My Own
Not much was left. Even Ian could have surmised this himself, for surely, he had eyes in his head and had already witnessed the people were almost to the point of starvation. He had foreseen this outcome years afore, knowing his brother’s nature. Ian would not be surprised to learn he had spent his last coin on ale and wenching. ’Twould have fit with the brother he had known all those years ago when he had left. He could only pray some woman would not try to claim her bastard child was his brother’s, and he would need to find means to feed another soul.
His mother had become bitter over the years, although this, too, should not have startled him. He only awaited her arrival to continue their conversation in privacy. Ian assumed the younger woman who had been at his dame’s side was to have been his potential bride, and this was an additional reason why Lady Fiona was displeased with him. He had already been told the lady was packing her belongings to return from whence she had come. It mattered not to Ian where she lived, only that she arrive there safely.
There was only one knock upon the door, and Ian called out for his mother to enter. The portal was pushed opened by a servant. His mother entered with her head held high. She was followed closely by her brother, who leveled his steely gaze at Ian with an open display of contempt. So even this had not changed over the years.
“Uncle Edric…” Ian murmured, barely acknowledging the Scotsman who would like nothing better than if Ian were dead so he could take over the clan as its laird and chief.
“I see you still canna show respect for your elders, boy.”
“Surely, I am no longer a mere lad, and as I am clan leader, ’tis you who should be showing me the respect I deserve. Did you, perchance, forget I am my father’s son and next in line?” Ian proclaimed as he relaxed back in his chair with his fingers drumming the arm, awaiting his uncle’s decision.
“Bah…look at you. You may be wearing a plaid, but everything about you proclaims you to be more English than Scot!”
“And yet, here I am, after being summoned by your own sister, to claim my place as the rightful heir of Urquhart.”
“You do not deserve to be laird!” Edric sneered.
“Enough!” Fiona interjected. “I will not have you squabbling about who should rule. By right, Ian is chief, and I will not hear another word of who is worthy or not on the running of this clan.”
Ian’s brow rose at hearing this unexpected declaration from his mother, and yet, still he waited silently for his uncle’s recognition.
“My laird,” Edric said through clenched teeth, giving the slightest nod of his head. The older man’s glare told Ian he must needs watch his back whilst his Uncle’s lips sealed in a firm line of displeasure. Such a display told Ian this was far from settled.
Ian rose from his chair. “Now that such a matter has been established, I see we are in dire straits here. You should have sent for me sooner, mother.”
Fiona slumped down into the vacated chair and rested her hand on her forehead. “We sent runners in every direction. How was I to know your whereabouts, since you never bothered to keep me informed if you even yet lived, all these years?”
Edric went to stand behind his sister and put his hand upon her shoulder, as if to offer her some form of comfort. Personally, Ian did not think his uncle held affection for anyone, so this bit of display surprised him. A look passed between the two siblings, causing Ian to wonder at their ploy. Perhaps all was not as it appeared, since they turned their attention back to him with a surprising display of welcome. He almost felt as though he were a mouse being led into a trap with a tidbit of tasty cheese as the jaws of death clenched and snapped tightly around his neck.
“So you are wed,” Fiona said as she patted Edric’s hand, who then moved to the hearth to casually rest his arm upon its mantel.
“Aye,” Ian replied warily.
“She has monies to aid in the estate, then?” Edric said, as he began to examine the nails of his fingers as though he had nothing better to do. “I assume this is why you have but recently married.”
“I am sure I will be able to collect Lynet’s dowry, once I send word to Berwyck. ’Twas the least of my worries at the time of my leaving without it,” Ian replied.
“What, pray tell, could be more important than ensuring the future of our clan with coin to fill our coffers?” Fiona’s scornful reply dripped with greed and her obvious need of wealth.
Ian crossed to the desk near the window and leaned up against the wood, folding his arms across his chest. “I would think my lady’s life more important than a bit of coin madam.”
“Explain yourself?” Edric demanded.
“She was kidnapped by another who sought her wealth. I thought it prudent to retrieve my wife afore he defiled her.”
“Then sheiswealthy! You must consummate the marriage and quickly.” Fiona smiled and began rubbing her hands together in satisfaction. “’Twill ensure her monies can provide for the estate, and we can return to living in the manner to which we were accustomed afore your brother depleted your inheritance.”
“I did not handfast with her for her dowry, mother. I care for the lady.”
“Handfast? You were not even married afore a priest?” Edric interrupted.
Afore Ian could answer, his mother rose from her chair, as if he was not even in the room. “’Tis of no import now, Edric. ’Tis still binding. But, we must bear witness they have in truth finalized their union. Then there will be no question Ian has the right to can claim her fortune.”
“Aye, you have that aright, sister. Come, nephew, and let us see the deed done.”
Ian was appalled at where this conversation had led. “You must surely be jesting if you think I would allow you to watch as I take my wife?”
Fiona gazed at him, as though he were but a lad in need of a scolding. “Do not let sentiment play a part in this. You must think of your people.”
