Page 61 of A Knight To Call My Own
Berwyck Castle
Fall, The Year of Our Lord’s Grace 1180
Ian stood with feet spread wide apartand arms crossed against his chest. His wife had requested some time alone, and he could hardly gainsay her. That, of course, did not mean he would still not stand guard over her, even if ’twas at a respectable distance. There was only so much he was willing to concede to his headstrong wife. Leaving her completely unguarded was not one of them.
She was so young, he still sometimes wondered if she would regret marrying a man so much older than her. He shook his head at his foolishness. They were married in the eyes of God, and he was blessed to call the woman his wife, especially since she carried his child within her. He would not let further thoughts or worries mar their visit here with her kin.
He continued to watch her from a distance, and saw when she placed the flowers she had carried from the highlands on the graves of her father, her mother, and Rolf. Aye, Rolf had indeed been laid to rest close to Lynet’s own parents. Fletcher had told the truth when he declared the knight was given a place of honor. Not many guardsmen would be buried within the family cemetery. He saw his wife as she bent her head in prayer, and Ian knew she would not be too much longer at her vigil at the graves.
“Thank you for bringing her home to us, Ian,” Amiria said, reaching out and placing her hand on his forearm, “even if the visit is a short one.”
“I have a feeling our jaunts to Berwyck may be few in the foreseeable future,” Ian said grimly.
“Why?”
“You must needs ask?” When she only raised a brow above those startling violet eyes, Ian sighed. “A Scottish laird will be considered a traitor in the eyes of an English king who he once served.”
“I had not thought that far ahead, but I suppose you have it aright. I do not like the idea of not seeing my sister, but we will make do with the time we have.”
“Aye, we shall. Besides, I could not keep her away, even if I tried, my lady,” he said, giving her hand a pat afore resuming his stance. “Your sister is as tenacious as you are and threatened to bring down our own keep about my head if I did not take her here myself to see you.”
Amiria gave a lighthearted laugh. “We are a stubborn lot, us MacLarens, but the men who wed us, I will add, are also a mite pigheaded.”
Ian smirked. “You must be talking about your dragon, for I have never been one to be…pigheaded.”
“I believe, good sir, that I would contest such fanciful speech. Have you, perchance, been weaving whimsical tales to keep the children amused like the bards who come to my hall?”
“I am not pigheaded,” he repeated with a scowl.
“Oh, aye, you are!”
“I do not know where you and Lady Katherine get such fanciful ideas in your pretty little heads.”
Amiria burst out in laughter. “’Tis why you fit in so well with those who live here at Berwyck. Dristan and his guards have the same annoying traits, but you all know how we ladies admire you, all the same.”
“Hmmm…I know not how you can say you admire us and then call us names in the same sentence.”
“’Tis because we love to tease you all so. ’Tis not often we mere women get the best of our handsome knights who are sworn to protect us, not that I cannot do a fair job of it myself. Besides, we must needs take advantage of such rare occurrences when we can,” Amiria answered as she continued to have a mischievous look upon her face.
“Then enjoy your time jesting with me whilst you may, Amiria, for Lynet and I shall need to leave soon. I do not relish being caught so far south when winter begins. I worry over Lynet and the babe.”
“I wish you could stay longer, but we understand,” Amiria replied somewhat sadly.
Ian grew serious as he continued to watch his wife’s sister from the corner of his eye. She began looking over his shoulder ’til she suppressed a girlish giggle. “What so amuses you now, Amiria?” Ian stated with a frown.
She returned her attention to him whilst continuing to hide her smile. She failed and promptly burst into a laughing fit, annoying him further, thinking he was the reason of some jest he was not privy to. “Fine…do not answer me then,” he fumed.
“Oh, Ian…do not be so serious all the time,” she began. “You must enjoy life and the surprises given to you sometimes.”
“I am done with all the surprises I have had of late and need no more of them. I only wish for Lynet and myself to live a happy, normal life.”
“Bah! Normal is boring, my dear friend. ’Tis best to live your life on the edge of anticipation that all things are possible,” she said, looking around him yet again with a very enchanting smile.
Ian turned to see who was behind him, but saw only the barbican gate. “Who is it you keep staring at? Whoever he is, he seems to be keeping you amused,” Ian declared in puzzlement.
“Let me just say that there is someone who is wishing a word with you.”
Ian frowned. “Then, mayhap, he should come forth from the keep so we might have speech together.”
