Rivals for the Crown (51 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Givens

Tags: #Outlaws, #Man-Woman Relationships, #England, #Historical, #Knights and Knighthood - England, #Scotland, #General, #Romance, #Scotland - History - 1057-1603, #Historical Fiction, #Great Britain - History - 13th Century, #Fiction, #Love Stories

BOOK: Rivals for the Crown
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"Oh, praise God!" She wrapped her arms around each of them to be sure they were real. "I thought never to see ye again," she told Rory, embracing him yet again, then doing the same to Kieran. "And William! Bless ye, sir, for helping to bring our Rory back!"

William smiled. "Had to, madam. We couldna do without him."

"What?" Liam said. "Nothing more for me? So soon forgotten?"

Nell laughed and threw her arms around her husband's neck, kissing him resoundingly. "As always, love, ye have my heart. And that should suffice."

Liam grinned at her. "It does."

She laughed. "Gannon, Margaret will be relieved to ken ye are here and safe. I just received a letter from her yesterday. She misses ye. And our lasses are well," she told Liam.

"No doubt making her glad she had sons."

Gannon kissed her cheek. "I'm sure it's the opposite. Sons make yer hair go
grey
before it's time," he said with a grin at Rory.

Rory laughed. Nell smiled at them all, then turned to the young woman who stood to the side. She was lovely, this tall lass, her dark hair lighter at the temples, her eyes bright now as she watched them all. A beauty. Which explained much.

"This must be Isabel," she said, holding out her hands.

"Aye, Nell," Rory said. "Meet Isabel de Burke. Isabel, my aunt Nell."

Isabel dropped a curtsy. "Madam, I am so pleased to meet you. I have heard so much of you."

Nell laughed. "I'm sure ye have. Believe only half of it, aye? Now come, the whole lot of ye, and get some food and tell me how ye came to be all together. And tonight we'll celebrate Christmas together with glad hearts."

The story came out over the meal, told mostly by Kieran, but some by Rory. Nell watched Isabel sit quietly, saw the looks she and Rory gave each other, and knew there was much more to the story. Liam and Gannon had found them, she was told, just inside the Scottish border, as they'd ridden south and Rory and the others were riding north. Liam, she knew, would tell her later, and in more detail, what he had learned.

"Are ye staying?" she asked them. "Or are ye off yet again?"

"I'd like it if ye would let Isabel stay here with ye," Rory said. "She canna go back to England. And I canna take her out to Loch Gannon just the now."

"But she will be going to meet yer mother," Gannon said.

Rory grinned at his father. "Aye, Da. She will." He turned to Nell again. "We're to meet with Balliol, all of us."

Nell nodded. "I was afraid of just that."

"Let's not even think of that now," Gannon said. "Get yer best clothes ready, Nell. My lad is getting married."

Nell looked from Rory to Isabel. "What, this morning?"

"As soon as we can," Rory said. "William's uncle is a bishop and with us."

"He'll waive the banns," William said, obviously pleased. "And perform the ceremony himself."

"Without Margaret?"

"There's not time, Nell," Gannon said. "We're off again at once."

"She'll have yer head for it," Nell said.

"Aye," Gannon agreed. "I'm safer with the English."

Rory and Isabel were married the next morning, just after matins, with the entire court in attendance. King John gave his blessing and ordered a wedding feast to be held in the hall in their hono
u
r. They spent their wedding night in a small room tucked in a corner of the castle, and Nell had to admit she'd never seen Rory so happy. Nor a bride more lovely. Gannon seemed pleased with Isabel, delighted that his son had been freed. All that was missing

was her sister, Nell thought. Margaret would not be pleased to have missed this. But such was life in Scotland these days.

They met with the king—all of them, even Isabel, who was questioned at length. And then Rory, Kieran, and Gannon left to meet with the northern clans, and William went to Dundee and Perth. And Liam to Ayrshire.

Nell and Liam had two nights together. They enjoyed each other in every way, parting with regret, but no tears on her part. She would not send him away with the memory of her sobbing. It was difficult, but she smiled as he mounted his horse and gave her one last wave. Then they were all gone, and she and Isabel de Burke were left with King John's court and the strained mood there.

New Year's came, with a tepid celebration of Hogmanay. Nell toasted the new year of 1296 with Rory's Isabel, telling her of their customs. The girl was an eager student. The queen left but Nell, not invited to join her, stayed behind. Her days would have been long if not for Isabel's company.

They were at first very polite and cautious around each other, but as the cold winter days passed, they started talking more, and more candidly. Nell talked of her life, of returning to find her family dead and home destroyed, and all that had happened when Gannon had come into their lives. She talked even of Tiernan, Gannon's brother, of her admiration of him. Of his death, and of the battles that had followed the raids, things of which she'd not talked in decades. After hearing some of Isabel's story, Nell even decided to talk of Lachlan. And finally of Liam and their daughters and the happiness they'd shared.

Isabel listened with rapt attention, sometimes crying with Nell at the stories, sometimes smiling that wistful smile she had. And Isabel talked, at first hesitantly, then the stories pouring out of her, her words moving Nell to tears and anger and sometimes to laughter, albeit laughter tinged with pain.

Nell enjoyed Isabel's company, but she missed her daughters terribly. She wrote to Margaret constantly, and her sister wrote back, as did Meg and Elissa, but it was not the same as having them with her, and her mood was always pensive when their letters came. The news from the south was alarming. Edward's fleet had sailed from East Anglia to Newcastle. Most of his army was massing on the border, and Edward himself was in Newcastle. Balliol responded by summoning all able-bodied Scottish nationals to come, armed, to Caddonlee, near Selkirk and the border, by March 11.

They watched, she and Isabel, as men poured through Stirling on their way south. The Highlanders were coming in droves, as were those in the south, knowing that they would be among the first to feel the wrath of Edward's fury should he invade. Not all came. The Earls of Angus and Dundee sided with the English, losing their estates when Balliol seized them in retribution.

The most noteworthy of those who ignored Balliol's summons were the Bruces. The youngest Robert, who had married the daughter of the Earl of Mar the year before, stayed in England, at
Carlisle, where his father was governor. English nobles holding lands in Scotland were expelled, their lands confiscated and given to loyal Scottish nobles. Annandale, the home of the Bruces, was assigned to their old enemy, John Comyn. The insult did not go unnoticed.

Liam came back to Stirling as often as he could, and each time Nell wept with joy to see him, and with sorrow that he would soon leave, but never in front of him. When they were at last alone, they found comfort in each other, but each time he left she wondered if that had been their last time together. She saw him off with smiles that hid her fear.

Isabel was grateful for Nell's warmth and affection, which soothed some of the pain she felt being separated from Rory yet again. Nell's stories, of her life, of losing her family and of Lachlan, were reminders that dreadful things could happen—and did—to anyone. And that the pain of the experiences could be overcome. Never erased, but diminished.

She resisted, as Nell did, being sent to Loch Gannon. Partly for the same reason Nell gave—that her husband could visit much more easily if she were at Stirling—partly for another reason, one she was loath to share with anyone. She had heard so much, and so much good, of Rory's mother, Margaret, that she was quite terrified of meeting the woman. What if Margaret disapproved of her? True, Margaret had sent a lovely and warm letter welcoming her into the family, and Isabel had sent one in return, telling Margaret of her love for her son. But still she worried. Rory was very close to his family, and Isabel wanted them to approve of her. Especially now. She missed her grandmother and thought of her often. And occasionally of her mother, wondering if she'd been too harsh in her judgment of her. It must have been hard to face being abandoned by the man she'd loved.

Rory arrived in the night, and none too soon, for she had news to tell him. Isabel embraced him with fervo
u
r and he returned her ardo
u
r, kissing her until she was breathless. He brushed the hair back from her face and smiled at her.

"How I have missed ye, lass. Ye've cast a spell on me. I canna stop thinking of ye, canna stop dreaming of ye. How have ye been?"

"Good. Nell has been most kind. She is quite wonderful."

"Isn't she? And I ken she's glad to have ye here just now, with her own lasses off with my mother. I want ye to go there, to Loch Gannon, at the first hint of danger here. It's war, Isabel, and I want ye far from it." He kissed her again. "Promise ye'll not be unwise."

She laughed softly. "Far too late for that. But yes, we'll leave if need be. Liam has asked the same promise from Nell."

"Good. John Comyn wants my father and Davey and their men to join his forces in Annandale. He's told us he means to march south into England."

"And start the war himself? Why?"

"He wants to take Carlisle and destroy the Bruces at last."

"Can they not let their feud fade?"

He shook his head in disgust.

"No. Even now, when they risk bringing Edward's rage upon us, they think most of harming the other. It is a kind of blindness, of stubborn pride that hurts my country more than anything else."

"What does your father say? Will he join John Comyn?"

"No. Which brings me back to ye, lass. Once word gets to John Comyn, ye can expect the Comyns to no longer support us here. Stay aware."

"I will." She put her hand on her stomach. "I cannot risk danger now."

His eyes widened. "Isabel? Are ye?..."

"Yes. Two months."

He stared at her and she caught her breath, not daring to speak, terrified that he would be displeased.

His smile was brilliant. "A child. Our child. Two months. September, then. But why did ye not send for me the moment ye kent?"

"I did not know. I've never been with child before. And now, with war in the air.. .It's not a good time for this. Are you pleased?"

"We'll be fine, lass. I'll get ye home to my mother and she'll care for ye." He laughed and kissed her again. "A wee bairn. Our child. Aye, lass, I'm pleased! Ten thousand times over!" He whirled her around, then stopped, his eyes wide. "I shouldna do that. What am I thinking? Sit, Isabel. Ye need to rest."

She laughed. "I am fine. My stomach does not always agree, but I am fine."

"Come," he cried. "Let's tell the world!"

He told everyone at Stirling, and wrote to his parents and insisted that she write to her grandmother, saying she was safe now and this was news to share before the war began. And then he left her again. She sent the letter.

Six days later the war began, but in a strange way. Englishman Robert de Ros
s
, Lord of Wark in Northumberland, who was about to marry a Scottish woman, delivered his castle to the Scots. His brother, loyal to Edward, sent word to the English king, who immediately sent a force. Robert de Ros attacked Edward's troops, and soon thereafter Edward arrived to besiege—and take—the castle. He spent Easter, March 23, at Wark.

Three days later John Comyn took his army south and invaded England, besieging Carlisle, as Liam had predicted. The castle at

Carlisle was defended by the Bruces, Robert the Elder and Younger, and Comyn's attack was successfully resisted. Those outside the walls suffered greatly, however, as John Comyn, in a frenzy of frustration, devastated the villages of Carlisle, then went west, attacking villages, monasteries, and churches, looting and killing as he went. In Hexham, it was said, he locked schoolboys in their school and set it afire, killing them all. And then he took his army, laden with booty, home to Scotland.

At the same time Comyn was attacking, Edward made his move. East. Toward Berwick.

TWENTY-THREE

Rachel was in the kitchen with her parents when Gilbert hurried through the door, his hair flying and eyes wide.

"Rachel," he said. "Kieran MacDonald is here and demands to talk with ye."

Rachel's parents exchanged a look.

Papa wiped his hands on a cloth. "I will speak with him," he said.

"He's asked for me, Papa," Rachel said quietly, pushing aside the food she'd been preparing and heading for the door.

"Not alone," Mama said.

They all went into the tavern room with her, Papa and Mama at her heels and Gilbert behind them. Kieran stood by the window, his back to her, his arms crossed. She could see the tension in his stance. She crossed the room, stopping a few feet from him.

"Kieran.

He turned, his gaze on her first, then flickering to her parents and Gilbert behind her. "Rachel. Jacob I must talk with ye all in private."

"No," Papa said.

Kieran gestured to the other patrons, who were watching closely. "What I have to say is not for them to hear, Jacob. But ye need to hear it. And now."

Papa nodded and led the procession back to the kitchen. Kieran waited until the door was closed, then faced them.

"Ye must leave, this day. Edward is coming this way with thirty thousand foot soldiers and five thousand cavalry. Whether or not ye believe he means to come to Berwick, ye must see how dangerous this is. Please, leave at once."

Papa shook his head. "I thank you for your concern, Kieran, but we've heard this before. Lord Douglas in the castle and all the city's leaders assure us our
defences
are strong and that Edward will not besiege us."

Kieran's face flushed. "What
defences
? Ye have none here! Ancient
earthen works
, sir, not tall strong walls. And no army to defend ye, only a handful of guards at the castle. At the least ye must admit that Edward's forces are formidable. Close the inn, sir,

if only until we determine Edward's plan. Dinna be more of a fool than ye need to be!"

"Kieran!" Rachel cried, seeing the anger in her father's face.

Papa's tone was cold. "I've been driven from my home twice, sir. Once in London, and once by Langton. We have made a new home here, a good home, and I have nowhere else to go. You exaggerate the danger."

"Go to Sarah's. Edgar assures me his cousins will take ye in."

"Sarah is in Inverness. We will not ask Edgar's family to shelter us as well," Papa said.

"Papa," Rachel said. "Perhaps we need to listen to him. We lived under Edward's rule and look what happened. We can leave

"No. I am finished running and letting others defend me. If war comes, I will face it here, in my home. Berwick may come under English rule, but we lived for years under English rule and came to no harm."

"Ye saw what Langton did here!" Kieran cried. "Now think of it a
thousand fold
, a thousand Langtons in Berwick. Is it defiance, or is it stubbornness that keeps ye here? I rode for two days to get here to warn ye. Ye must leave. Please. I beg ye to go, or at least let Rachel come with me."

"Which was your goal in coming here, was it not?" Papa asked.

"Of course it was! Like it or not, sir, I care deeply for her. I told ye, and Mosheh, and all who would listen, that I would keep her safe. That's what I'm here for. If ye love yer daughter, ye'll send her away."

"I do love my daughter, sir. And it's you I'm sending away. Leave now, if you will. I'm finished listening to your insults and empty promises. I asked you to bring Isabel back to us, and you swore you would, but did you? No. And now, using Edward as your excuse, you want to take my daughter, which you planned to do all along. I welcomed you before, but no longer, Kieran MacDonald. Get out of my house."

"Jacob," Mama said. "I know he's said it all wrong, but we should listen."

"No!" Papa said to her, his voice tight with control. "This man has done nothing but destroy our daughter. She would have been happy with Mosheh if he had not come wooing her again. Every time she starts to be happy, he arrives with something that makes her cry. King Edward may come close, and he may threaten, but do any of you believe he will do more than that? Why would he? Berwick is wealthy and prosperous. He'll not attack us. He'll tax us! Now get out of my house, Kieran MacDonald, and do not return."

Kieran spun on his heel and left without a word. Rachel looked at her father, his face scarlet with anger, and at her mother, shaking

her head. And ran after Kieran. She caught him in the street, almost in front of the butcher shop, Mosheh's now that his father had died.

"Kieran! Stop! Wait!" she called.

He whirled to face her. "I'm not leaving ye behind this time, Rachel."

"It certainly looks like you are."

"Are ye coming with me? Now, this moment? Are ye coming with me?"

"No. I cannot simply leave. Let me talk with them again."

"Meet me tonight. In the square next to the church, lass. Say ye will."

"To talk. Only to talk, Kieran. Let my father calm down. You insulted him."

"He is easily upset. I dinna understand the man. Ye may all be facing a siege here and he's worried about me insulting him! What happened to the Jacob I remember?"

"He's been battered, Kieran. By King Edward, by Walter Langton. Even by Isabel, who thought she was protecting us but made him feel ineffective. Do you not see? Life has piled one thing atop another to defeat him! He did not want me to marry outside the faith, and I played the dutiful daughter, but not well enough to fool anyone. He wants me to be happy, but I am not. It is always between us."

He pulled her to him and kissed her fervently, then released her. "Tonight, ten o'clock, Rachel. Dress warmly, for we will stay outside. Promise me ye'll come."

"I will be there."

Papa said nothing to her when she returned, but Mama pulled her aside.

"I will talk to him," Mama said. "Perhaps, in a few days, he will see sense in what Kieran says. But right now, after all that has happened with you and Kieran and Mosheh, Kieran could tell him that the sky was blue and your father would not believe it. Give me some time, and I will make him see sense." At Rachel's nod, she continued. "Now go and see your husband. Tell him what Kieran says. And ask him if we should leave. If Mosheh thinks we should go, your father will listen."

Rachel sighed. "I will."

She ran down the street again, to knock at Mosheh's door. There was no answer. She lifted her hand to knock again, pausing as she heard voices within. Mosheh's, talking softly, his tone tender. A woman answering. Rachel stepped back from the door and stared at it, her emotions spinning. Then she went back to the inn.

At ten that night, she wrapped her heaviest cloak around her and went to meet Kieran. She waited, not sure where he was, relieved when he stepped from the shadows of the church, his horse's reins in his hand.

"Thank ye for coming, lass," he said. "Ye'll not regret it."

"I hope I do not."

"Walk with me to the city gates, aye? We can talk on the way."

She did, listening as he told her all that had happened in Newcastle, and that Isabel was now safely in Stirling with his aunt Nell. Of his certainty that King Edward was approaching.

"Stay a day," she said. "Two, perhaps, and my father may change his mind."

"We dinna have that much time, lass." He glanced at the gate. "Even now, kenning what could be on the way, yer city leaders dinna man the gate properly. Look, it lies open with no one around."

She turned to look, then turned back at the movement behind her. He had vaulted into the saddle and leaned down to her now.

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