Page 23 of Bride of the Merciless Laird
“Aye. The Lady Tyra was once betrothed tae MacDonald.”
Hamish remained seated but folded his arms. “The situation that arose between the MacNeacail Clan and the MacDonalds of Sleat was a sorry business. I ken Harris MacDonald. He’s nae a man to be crossed and I’ve heard from more than one lad that his bitterness toward the lady and her brother hasnae lessened these past months, but gained in ill-will.”
Colban Mackenzie, a much younger man, stood and raised his voice to be heard above the murmuring that greeted Hamish’s remarks. “Is there a danger that, in marrying this lady, ye would bring MacDonald’s wrath upon our clan, also?”
Ewan shook his head. “I cannae answer yer question, lad. I’m nae able tae speak fer what wickedness may be brewing in the heart of the MacDonald. But as ye all ken, there are no Highlandclans with unsullied history that havenae made an enemy or two over time.” He grinned. “The Mackenzies are nay exception.”
At this point, Duncan chimed in, reminding the meeting that there would be great benefit to the Clan from an allegiance with the MacNeacails.
“Aye, Duncan is correct,” Ewan said. “The MacNeacails would provide us with a gateway tae the trading routes south as well as connections with the western isles. Their clan connections run deep. This alliance would add great wealth tae our coffers.”
Hamish grunted. “This additional wealth would enable us tae build our strength. Our army is strong but with the addition of a further contingent of trained men we would become the most powerful of the Bruce’s northern clans.”
The mutterings around the table were slowly replaced by nods.
Colban got to his feet again. “Ye speak most persuasively of the benefits tae us of such an alliance Laird Ewan. If the MacNeacails are able tae provide arèiteachoutlining what ye suggest and that meets wi’ our approval, I would be happy tae agree tae the marriage.”
Ewan nodded in response. “I thank ye Colban. Indeed, it is me intention tae send a messenger at once tae Laird MacNeacail seeking his approval of the match between meself and his half-sister. I shall outline what we wish to be included in therèiteach. Once I hear from him, I shall seek yer final approval.”
He waited while the council members filed out and then issued his instructions to Duncan to make ready one of his birlinns.
“I shall prepare me missive tae the Laird MacNeacail and dispatch it at once. The voyage taw Skye is short, so I anticipate a reply from the laird within a a short time.”
Duncan hurried off while Ewan retreated to his study. His message was simple, referring to the fact that he had met Lady Tyra when she was under attack, and he had offered her protection after helping her while awaiting an answer from her brother as per how to proceed once he had received news from them. But in the meantime it had arisen in his mind that a betrothal between them would be of mutual benefit to the two clans. They had discussed it and she had agreed. He outlined his request for arèiteachto put before his Council should Tyra’s brother accede to his request.
It was customary for there to be a certain amount of to-ing and fro-before betrothal contracts met with the approval of both parties. He made his clan’s requests clear and brief, finishing with his hope that an agreement could be reached without delay.
After dispatching a messenger with the letter, he went in search of Tyra, aware that she would be waiting to hear what the Council had decided.
Anticipating Tyra would be with his sister in the solar he was somewhat surprised to find Isla alone there with her embroidery.
“Ah. Me dear sister, I am seeking Lady Tyra. Dae ye ken where I may find her?”
Ignoring Isla’s raised eyebrow, he continued to the wall garden where he was assured she would be.
In summer, the garden was rich with the scents of blossoms. Roses abounded, lilies and fragrant bushes provided a haven for birds and butterflies. The place hummed with life. But today, under its snowy coverlet, the garden was bleak, the trees divested of their leaves, the flowers still sheltering underground awaiting the return of spring.
Catching sight of her footsteps in the snow he followed them, winding through the empty garden beds that would soon be bursting with life. Already, the tiny harbingers of spring, the snowdrops, were pushing up their leaves, providing a delicate carpet of green and white.
Her trail took him close to the wall and, as he traced her steps, he spied her some distance away. As he drew closer, he saw she was standing still, her eyes focused on a crabapple tree in the corner. A rabbit was gnawing on the tree’s bark, standing on his hind legs, his front paws holding a small branch, apparently oblivious to the fact he was being so closely observed.
As Ewan approached, his steps muffled by the snow, he heard Tyra speaking softly to the animal.
“Oh, poor wee rabbit, ye must be hungry tae feed on such a tough, dry repast.” She gave a soft laugh. “But we all must makedae wi’ what we have, little one. I am biding here, safe now, yet I hold grave fears that one who would dae me harm may yet find me in this place.”
Ewan moved forward, a little uncomfortable with eavesdropping.
“Here ye are, lass. I’ve been looking fer ye.”
His voice rang out loudly across the hushed garden.
The rabbit, startled by the sound, abandoned the tree, bobbed through a hole at the base of the wall and disappeared.
Tyra jumped back, issuing a tiny shriek almost losing her balance, while Ewan’s hand shot out to support her as she stumbled.
She straightened, turning to face him blushing a deep pink, and he dropped his hand to his side. Not for the first time, he was taken by the flash of fire in her eyes. Strands of fair hair floating about her face tempted his fingers to tuck them behind her ear.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve news of the Council meeting.”
