Page 44 of A Knight To Call My Own
His ever vigilant eyes scannedthe Great Hall to view the mayhem afore him. Boisterous voices grew in volume as the chamber began to fill. Scowling, Ian remembered this room from his youth. The large chamber had always been meticulously clean, at least as much as was humanly possible, given the number of clansmen who came to sup here. He was not sure how his mother had let the place become what he now beheld.
Barking dogs ran between the tables and the legs of the clansmen who came to fill their hungry stomachs and partake of whatever bounty could still yet be found at Urquhart’s table. One beast even dared to lift his leg upon an unwitting recipient afore receiving a swift kick from a serf, sending the hound scurrying for cover. The rushes were a mess, and Ian would not dare to wonder when the last time they had been changed. Even the dust and grime marred, tattered tapestries hanging upon the walls were a disgrace to his ancestors. Things needed to change, and quickly.
Ian had taken what coin he had when he left Berwyck so abruptly, but he would need far more than what he currently held. Not only would restoring the castle to its formal glory require what he had in Edinburgh, but the dowry Lynet would bring must be secured, as well. He would not rest ’til he saw his home brought back from the mess his brother had left behind. Such an undertaking may just cost him every shilling he owned.
A platter of meat was placed in front of him. Ian took one look at it, and his stomach churned in protest. He knew he should be thankful there was at least food for his table, but there was nothing appetizing about this meat swimming in a sea of grease he was supposed to sup upon. He grimaced. Even the smell that reached his nostrils held little appeal. Another servant came bearing bread then left quickly after a short curtsey. Ian tore off a chunk, hoping against hope that, mayhap, something could be salvaged of the meal.
Taking a bite, he almost choked on the coarse bread as he spat out a stone that had escaped the process of being sifted properly from the flour. He rubbed at his jaw, thankful he had not lost a tooth. Gazing around his hall, it appeared he was the only one having an issue with the meal that was supposed to curb his hunger. Even his mother and uncle appeared eager to fill their trenchers. He must needs speak to his cook, or else replace him. Starving might be preferable than having to endure another meal such as this.
He stabbed at the meat and watched the fat drip from what he could now smell was boar. Taking a bite did not improve his thoughts on what would make it edible. The food barely held any flavor. He began to chew the tough pork and wondered how long ’twould take afore he would be able to swallow what was in his mouth. Taking his cup in hand, he drained the wine and held out the chalice for it to be refilled. At least there was something to be said about the flavor of his drink.
Mayhap, if he ate his fill fast enough, he could enjoy what was left of the eve. As he began to devour his meal, he caught the sound of several gasps afore conversations in the room faded to a deafening silence. Ian wiped his mouth upon his sleeve and looked up, wondering what was going on in his hall that drew everyone’s attention.
To say that she captured every member of the clan’s interest was a complete understatement. Sauntering across the room, Lynet portrayed enough confidence of an entire invading army. Her tunic barely covered her very fetching arse, causing parts of Ian to stir. Her blonde braid swung behind her just begging for him to reach out and take hold of it. She was so reminiscent of her sister Amiria, that for an instant, Ian was lost in the memories of what he had lost years afore. He was brought back to the present when his mother snarled in anger.
“How dare she come to my hall dressed in such masculine costume,” Fiona hissed furiously whilst she began to rise to apparently further voice her displeasure.
“Sit down, mother,” Ian insisted. “’Tis her hall now, and she may dress as she damn well pleases.”
Edric leaned forward on the table, nearly putting his sleeve in the trencher he shared with his sister. “Do you presume to usurp your mother’s authority, after all she has done for Urquhart?”
Ian’s eyes narrowed, taking in the pair. Considering all their ranting with the need of coin for the place, ’twas evident from their garments such was not the case when it came to donning their finest, each day. “And you will not tell me how to run my estate, including how I deal with my mother. If you do not like my hall, I am sure you can find suitable lodging elsewhere. Mayhap, such a dwelling will be more compatible with your discriminating penchant for having the finest of life’s offerings.”
Fiona’s face began to turn red with rage. “You forget yourself, Ian,” she fumed.
“As do you, mother. The both of you should refrain from irritating me so I may enjoy my meal, if that is even humanly possible.”
“How dare you speak to me thusly?” Fiona stood, looking down at Ian as though he was still but a lad. But he was a boy no more, and ’twas time his mother learned she could not control him any longer.
“If you do not care for my company, than by all means, you may take your leave of the hall and eat elsewhere, along with your brother.”
Conversations resumed at a booming level, as everyone in the room had an opinion of what was transpiring in the Great Hall. Yet, Ian continued to wait, as if he had nothing better to do than for the pair to come to some decision. ’Twas a near silent exchange between mother and son afore Fiona’s words sputtered to a bare murmur. She once again took her seat.
Satisfied that he would not have to listen to his dame besmirch his wife’s name, he leaned back in his seat and called for Lynet’s chalice to be filled. Returning his attention to his meal, he gave no further thought that Lynet would not make haste to join him at the table.
He waited, refusing to consider the unthinkable alternative that she would dare to eat elsewhere. That was his first mistake, among many, where the lass was concerned. He swallowed hard, feeling the gristly piece of meat make its way down his throat, inch by inch. It seemed as though even the food was to disagree with him as he attempted not to belch. He grabbed at his goblet to help hasten the grub’s journey to his protesting stomach.
Where was she? His eyes flicked through the crowd of men ’til his gaze fell irritably upon his wife. She stood next to Angus, who pushed the man next to him with his elbow to make room for her. How she could appear so demure and angelic dressed in those tight fitting hose was beyond his ken. Surely, there was a bit of the devil in her that she would actually attire herself in the garments of a man. Yet, there she was, sitting at a table full of clansmen as if she had done it a hundred times afore, listening intently to Connor’s ramblings.
Ian’s eyes narrowed as he viewed the display afore him. Was it done on purpose? Even she would not dare to be so blatantly ignorant that she would knowingly snub her laird afore the entire clan by sitting at one of the lower tables. She was his wife. Her place was by his side.
His hands clenched the arm of his chair whilst a hundred pair of eyes watched his every move. He tried to calm down, and yet, she made it hard when he heard her laughter from across the chamber. She had made a statement by ignoring the vacant seat at the high table. Ian would not let himself lose face with his people with a disobedient wife.
She raised her head slightly to look at him from beneath her lowered lashes. The slightest smirk began at the corner of that luscious mouth of hers afore she took up a linen and pretended to wipe her lips. But Ian knew without a doubt what her scheme was about. He stood. With a determined stride, he made his way towards his mischievous bride. He would prove to her, once and for all, who was the master of the game in her little contest of wills. He would not be the loser.
~***~
Lynet swore beneath her breath for her mistake. She should not have set her gaze upon her husband, but she could not resist the small smile of satisfaction from seeing Ian’s attempt to remain calm when she decided to sit elsewhere. The situation became worse as she heard the chuckle of the man next to her.
“A job well done, lassie,” Angus whispered to her, “but dinnae lose yer courage. Ye will need it now, more than ever.”
She took a bite of the ghastly meat that had been set afore her knowing her time for nourishment was quickly going to end. She was surprised Ian’s chair remained upright, given the amount of force of his rising from the table. His stride was furious, and she could see for herself that his temper flared as he quickened his pace across the hall. How could it not, with all the ribbing he was receiving from his clansmen as he strode ever closer. Their message was clear. If Ian could not control his wife, he was certainly not capable of leading the clan.
She knew the instant he stood behind her waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. His uneven breathing practically called for her to calm his simmering temper. She waited. He did nothing, and yet, she experienced the sensation of his every move. She knew she must finish what she started and would not give him the gratification of reacting to his impending furious outburst that was sure to come. Was there truly a need to do so? From the amount of heat radiating from his body, Lynet made every attempt not to throw herself into his arms. She never wanted the man more than she did at this very instant. Again, she hid her smile. She would not be won over so easily, nor would she yield the game.
“Get up,” Ian insisted with more control in his voice than she thought possible. Yet, the tone of his speech practically scorched her where she sat with the angry undertone those two little words implied. He must have made some motion to signal his men she could not see, for those seated next to her quickly scrambled from their seats to leave her alone to her own fate.
He made to pull out her off the bench, but she just as firmly took hold of the edges to slide it forward. He tugged. She pulled.Let the battle begin!“I have not as yet finished my meal.” She kept the pitch of her own voice flat, as though she barely had the inclination to recognize his order. Since she could not see his face, she could only assume her answer did not please him.
