Page 38 of A Knight To Call My Own
“I am thinking of my people. Why else would I be here if I did not care for them?” Ian bellowed.
Edric came to stand next to his sister. “Then there is no need for speech about how you must provide proof she is a maid, else you must needs marry another.”
“I am already wed, and I will hear no more talk of another taking Lynet’s place,” Ian retorted hotly. “I stand by my handfast with her, so I will hear no more of such speech!”
Fiona came to point her finger at him again, as she had in his youth. “To hell with the handfast you made with her! As head of the clan, you know of our ways and what is demanded of you, or have you forgotten such customs whilst you were on English soil?”
“I have forgotten nothing, including my duties to Urquhart. Hence, my appearance here.”
Edric opened the solar door and motioned with his arm for Fiona and Ian to follow. Ian stood where he was ’til his uncle shut the door once more. He would be damned if he would embarrass Lynet by having his family observe them whist he made her his wife in full.
Ian casually made his way behind his desk and picked up quill and parchment. He would do this in his own time, and not at the whim of an uncle and mother he had not seen, nor heard from, in many a year.
“I have matters to attend to, and you may await me and my decision on how to handle such a delicate matter in the Great Hall. I am hardly fit to run upstairs and take my wife in my present condition, wearing the stench of sweat and blood from battle,” Ian informed them.
He dipped the tip of the quill into the ink and began to write a message to Dristan, scratching the words across the parchment. Still not hearing that he was at last alone with his thoughts and the emptiness of the chamber, he looked up with raised brow. He leveled a stern gaze upon the two older people who stood next to one another with open mouths. “You are dismissed ’til I call for you.”
Ian heard a low growl emit from Edric, but he ignored such an outburst, knowing the war between them had only just begun. He continued writing his missive ’til he at last saw from the corner of his eye the leaving of his uncle and mother. The oaken door slammed shut with enough force that the sound resonated down the passageway. Putting down the quill, Ian folded the parchment and leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh.
Why was nothing ever simple? All he wanted to do was come home and begin his life with Lynet. He could see, even that would be denied him, as matters of the estate must needs come first. ’Twas not how he had envisioned the beginning of their lives together. Mayhap, ’twould have been better if Angus and Conner had never found him at all.
Reaching out for a bit of red wax, he held it over the candle ’til it dripped onto the parchment. The heavy seal of Urquhart felt unfamiliar in his hand, but he pushed the stamp down over the wax, sealing the document.
Leaving his solar, he made his way down through his barren hall and out to the stable in search of a runner to take his missive to Berwyck. Once he saw a horse saddled and the man on his way, he felt some small amount of satisfaction that at least Dristan and Amiria would soon know Lynet was safe. Remorse consumed him with his words to them of Rolf’s fate. He wished there were more he could have done, but the only other option available for him was to now pray for the soul of the knight who had so willingly sacrificed his own life for that of Ian’s lady.
Looking down at his attire, he went to his saddle, sitting nearby on a bale of hay. ’Twas still packed, and he took out fresh clothing bundled in cloth. He began making his way down to the loch. He needed to clean the filth off him afore he presented himself to his wife.
With thoughts of the next obstacle he must needs now confront, he tore off his shirt and plunged himself into the frigid waters of the loch.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Thank you for your serviceto me, but that will be all,” Lynet stated quietly with a need to be alone in her thoughts.
Her maid bobbed a short curtsey and, with a mumbled, “Milady,” quit the room.
The chamber had made a dramatic change since the completion of her bath. The maid who had been assigned to her had placed a screen to shield from view the many people entering the chamber whilst Lynet sat afore the fire to keep warm. ’Twas clear the servants began to set the room aright according to Ian’s specifications. Lynet was not privy to what had been going on whilst the young woman began drying her hair and bandaging the wounds at her wrists.
Once the door had closed behind those who had noisily busied themselves to see to their laird’s comfort, she was amazed at the transformation that had occurred in such a short span of time. A bed of some size she would soon share with her husband had filled the corner of the room. Instead of covers of cloth, pelts of fur had been placed upon it to keep them warm. A small repast had been laid out on a serviceable table so they might eat their fill, along with goblets filled with wine. Even the tattered trunk had been replaced by another made of heavy oak with sturdy leather straps to close it.
Apprehension filled Lynet, not knowing what was to be expected of her. She fingered the flimsy material of the robe gowning her trembling body. She wished she had been able to spend some time with Amiria so she would be better prepared on what was to come this night, but alas, ’twas not to be. She could only pray she would not fail in her naïve efforts to please her husband.
She rose from her seat by the fire and went to the alcove to peer out towards the loch. ’Twas a beautiful view with the blue and purple colors of sunset skimming across the exquisiteness of God’s canvas of life. A slight smile lit her face as she thought of how she would love to capture the scene afore her, if only she had some thread to work with.
A movement caught her attention, and her eyes drew to the person rising from the waters of the loch. She reached her hand to her throat as if to catch her breath that threatened to escape her. All he needed was a trident in his hand, and he would have completed the mental picture she had in her head of the Greek God Poseidon rising from beneath the depths of the ocean.
His reddish brown hair hung in thick wet strands to his shoulders as water ran like rivulets down the firmness of his bronzed chest when he emerged and strode onto the bank. Lynet tilted forward in order to gaze more fully at the vision making his way from the coldness of what she assumed had been his bath. His hose clung to the muscles of his thighs and she marveled at the sheer strength of the warrior who unknowingly tempted her from afar. She felt her maiden heart flip end over end inside her chest, knowing he would soon be at her side.
Watching his every move, she observed Ian reach down to grab a cloth, but halt within inches of the fabric touching his fingertips. Of a sudden, his head slanted upwards, almost as if he suspected her presence. Lynet scooted back from the window and into the shadows of the chamber, hoping she had not been found out, staring at the all but naked man. With her heart hammering away in her chest, she feared Ian surely could hear its beating, even at this distance keeping them apart.
She left the window, frantically searching the chamber for something to occupy her thoughts, yet there was nothing here familiar to her. Even a bit of thread to mend something…anything…would have been preferable to idly sitting with her nerves on edge, awaiting Ian’s pleasure.
Her footsteps led her to the table. With unsteady hands, she took a chalice of wine. It took every effort just to raise the cup to her lips. A small sip of the heady brew slid down her throat then down into the pit of her belly where it warmed her considerably. Lynet put the cup back into place in fear she might lose her wits if she continued to drink the spirits that were sure to cloud her thoughts and judgment. She needed a clear head for what was about to happen. She certainly did not wish to forget such a momentous occasion as when she and Ian became man and wife in every sense of the word.
Treading slowly back to the window, she attempted to glimpse yet another view of Ian, but he was nowhere to be seen. It gave her pause to wonder how much time she in truth still had afore he came to her.
She would not have long to wait, but the noise she heard outside the bed chamber was not one she was expecting. The sound of arguing reached her ears and caused goose bumps of anxiety to race down her arms. The door was rudely pushed open by a huge Scotsman who Lynet did not recognize. She gasped and clutched at her robe, wondering if they were under attack. She watched in fear as his eyes raked her from head to toe as though he was stripping her clothes from her body for his viewing pleasure.
Ian pushed past the man at the door and came to her side. She was enveloped into the warmth of her husband’s embrace whilst he used his own body as a shield from prying eyes.
