The Last Heiress (40 page)

It would be several days before Baen MacColl was ready to leave Grayhaven. March had begun, and the weather was raw and wet. The master of Grayhaven gave his son a covered cart to transport the few lambs that had been born the previous month. They were still too young to travel with the flock, and there was still snow on the ground. It was not the best time of year to move the animals, but Baen was anxious to get back to Friarsgate, and to Elizabeth. The sheep had not thrived well over the long months, although it had at first seemed they would. At least a third of them had died, been poached, or taken by wild beasts. But once back at Friarsgate, Baen knew, they would do well once again. He and Friar would bring the flock home safe.

The master of Grayhaven had read over the marriage contract his son was to sign. He was not pleased by the strict terms Elizabeth Meredith was imposing upon her husband. Baen would have no rights to the manor should she die in childbirth. The land would revert to her mother then. Should she produce an heir or heiress, and then perish, the estate became the child’s, and her mother its legal guardian. If the child should then die, again Friarsgate returned to Rosamund Bolton, and not Baen MacColl. Elizabeth appointed him her steward, but all decisions made with regard to Friarsgate must be approved by her. As her husband and the manor’s steward he would have a respected position. He would be given a small portion in coin for himself and that was all.

“ ’Tis too harsh,” Colin Hay said. He turned to Logan and Lord Cambridge. “Have you read this? She is not an easy woman.”

“The women of Friarsgate are very proprietary where their land is concerned,” Logan offered.

“She loves him,” Lord Cambridge said. “Trust me, dear sir, she will relent eventually, and this shall be rewritten.”

“Why is she so angry with him?” Colin Hay wanted to know.

“She is angry at herself more than your son,” Thomas Bolton said.

“You see, dear boy, Elizabeth prides herself on being coolheaded and logical. She has never made a decision that she did not carefully consider. But then she fell in love, and she made a fatal mistake often made by those in love, even men: She asked her lover to make a choice between her and something else he loved. In this case, you. It was foolish, of course, and afterwards when he had left her she knew it, but it was done.

“I have been convinced all along, and Logan will tell you it is so, that had my cousin Rosamund approached you regarding a marriage between your eldest son, Baen, and her youngest daughter, Elizabeth, you would have been amenable. It would have been worked out to everyone’s satisfaction. But from the time Rosamund’s eldest child refused to accept her position as the heiress to Friarsgate, and Elizabeth told her mother she wanted it for her own, my niece has listened only to herself. She was twelve then.

“When she was fourteen her mother turned Friarsgate over to her legally, although if the truth be known, she had been caring for it since the day it was promised her. She oversees every facet of the estate, until recently with her steward, Edmund Bolton. But Edmund is an old man now, and his health is poor. Elizabeth asked Baen to take his place until Edmund was well again, although we all knew Edmund would never again accept that responsibility. When your son left her in October she took up the reins herself.”

“You say her mother would have approved a match had we negotiated one,” the master of Grayhaven said. “Why has a husband not been found for her before? What is the matter with the lass?” Colin Hay wanted to know.

“There is nothing the matter with Elizabeth,” Baen spoke up.

“But why was she not wed previously?” his father demanded to know.

“Being as mutton-headed as your son,” Logan Hepburn said, “she didn’t want a husband who would try to wrest her authority from her.

Her sisters found husbands at court, and we sent her last year. But none would do for her. She wanted a man who would love Friarsgate, and work by her side, yet not try to take it from her. That man turned out to be Baen MacColl.”

“Are you content to sign this marriage contract?” the master of Grayhaven asked his eldest son. “The terms are not favorable to you.”

“I’ll sign it,” Baen answered. “I love her, and I always will. With God’s blessing Elizabeth will eventually forgive me deserting her to return to Grayhaven, Da.”

“I’ll want a proxy marriage performed before you depart,” the master of Grayhaven said. “That way I’ll know my son is protected to some extent.”

“Agreed!” Logan Hepburn replied. “That way all we’ll need is Father Mata’s blessing at the church rail to finish it.”

“And I shall be the bride,” Lord Cambridge said mischievously. “I have always wanted to be the bride,” he chortled.

Colin Hay looked somewhat askance, but having grown used to Thomas Bolton over the years Logan Hepburn laughed loudly. “Aye, Tom, and a lovely bride you will make, I have no doubt at all. When she ceases being angry Elizabeth will be both flattered and grateful to you.”

“Elizabeth is not to know,” Baen said quietly.

“What?” His father and his father-in-law, speaking in unison, looked startled by his words.

But Thomas Bolton understood. “Ah,” he said. “How well you know her, dear boy. Of course. My lips shall be sealed in the matter until I am told otherwise.”

“Well, I don’t understand,” the master of Grayhaven said.

“Nor I,” Logan Hepburn concurred. “What nonsense is this, Baen?”

“Elizabeth needs to feel that the decision to marry me is all her own. I will gladly agree to a proxy wedding here at Grayhaven for my protection, and so my father and brothers may participate. But Elizabeth is not to know. Not now. Perhaps not ever. I do not want her any angrier than I know she already is. And I do not want her feeling that her hand was forced in this matter. She is the lady of Friarsgate, and has always maintained a certain dignity. She will consent to wed me, but she must come to that conclusion by herself.”

“The lass must be brought to heel immediately, Baen, or you will have no peace in your house,” Logan Hepburn declared, and Colin Hay nodded in agreement.

“Have you ever been able to bring Rosamund to heel?” Baen asked wickedly.

“That’s different!” Logan insisted.

“Nay, ’tis not, and Elizabeth is Rosamund’s daughter,” Baen said with a grin. “You have weaseled your way around your wife even as I will weasel my way about my darling Elizabeth, Logan. And I will have peace in my home as you do in yours.”

The laird of Claven’s Carn chuckled. “You’re right, of course,” he said.

“I know,” Baen responded. He turned to his father. “Will you send for the priest then, Da? If he can come at once we can leave in another two days. I am anxious to get back to Friarsgate. The trip will not be easy.”

The priest came the following day. The situation was explained. Father Andrew witnessed the signing of the marriage contract, and then performed the ceremony with Lord Cambridge, resplendent in his scarlet clothing, standing in for the bride. Afterwards the master of Grayhaven held a small feast in honor of the marriage just celebrated.

He sat at his high board with Thomas Bolton to his right, the priest and the laird of Claven’s Carn to his left. They watched as his piper played and his three sons danced to the spritely tunes, their laughter and affection for one another obvious as they vied back and forth for their father’s approval. And the night came, and the hall emptied slowly until only Colin Hay and his son Baen remained, seated together by the fire, their wine cups almost empty.

“You’ll not be back,” the master of Grayhaven said to his firstborn.

“I know,” Baen answered.

“I’m proud of you,” Colin Hay said, “even if you are a mutton-headed fool. You might have been happy with your lass these last months but that you came home, lad. And for what? For me? The da who never even knew of your existence until you were already half-grown? I’ve never understood why your mother never told me. Why she let herself be wed to that miserable Parlan Gunn when he would not even pretend you were his and give you his name. He would have had a fine son in you, Baen.”

“I think she thought it was for her parents’ sake she marry Parlan,”

Baen replied. “They had arranged the marriage. Parlan had taken her with little dower. He had been good to them. And by pretending not to know who you were but for your Christian name she believed she was protecting you. Had Parlan known he would have extorted you, for he was a venal as well as a cruel man, Da. Only when she knew she would no longer be there to protect me did she reveal her secret, and only to me. Her parents were dead by then, and she had no one else to shield.”

“I remember that day you came to my door. You were thin with your hunger, and your clothing was threadbare. But you were mine, and I never had a moment’s doubt when you told me who had borne you, and mothered you,” Colin Hay said, tears of remembrance in his eyes. “You flinched, I remember, when I reached out to draw you into the house.

You were afraid, but you never admitted to it, lad.” Reaching out, the master of Grayhaven ruffled his son’s black hair, which was so like his own. “They’ve been good years we’ve shared together, lad.”

“I’ll miss you, Da,” Baen told his father. “I’ll miss Grayhaven.”

“You’ll have the memories, lad. Cherish them, for they are yours alone. And make new memories. This Friarsgate is a fair place, you’ve said.”

“Aye, it is. The hills rise all about it, and the lake spreads out before it. The meadows there are greener than anywhere else I’ve ever been. And there is peace there, Da. A wonderful, gentle peace that enfolds it all. I have loved it since the first moment I laid eyes on it,”

he told his sire.

“It sounds to me like home,” Colin Hay said softly.

“Aye, it is,” Baen admitted.

“Then that is where you belong, lad. Not here at Grayhaven, but at Friarsgate, with a lass who loves you, and your bairns about you,” his father told him.

“Will you come one day and see us, Da?” Baen asked his father.

Colin Hay shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “In my youth I served in the Earl of Errol’s household. While it was exciting to be involved in the king’s court, I missed my home terribly. Once I returned I vowed to never again leave it. Everything I have is here. I visit now again with old Glenkirk, for he was briefly at court with his children when I was there. He enjoys speaking of the old days, as most elderly men do.”

“Children? I thought the earl had but a son,” Baen remarked. “Lord Adam.”

“He had a daughter too once,” Colin Hay said. “A beautiful fiery little lass named Janet. I begged my father to make us a match, but then they were gone from court to Europe, for the earl was an ambassador for King James. ’Tis a long story,” he concluded with a smile.

“Nay, I shall not go down into England, Baen, and you will not come north again, I know. We shall say our good-byes tonight, my son. Ours is not an unusual situation. Most children bid farewell to a parent at marriage, and never see them again in this life. For twenty years I have had you by my side, and it has pained me knowing I could give you nothing more but my love and respect. That everything else I had must go to Jamie because he is my legitimate son.”

“He’s worthy of you, Da,” Baen said. “He’s a good son to you, and always will be. And Gilly too. I’ll miss you, but I know you’ll be safe with my brothers.”

“You speak as if I’m an old man,” the master of Grayhaven snapped.

“You’re past fifty,” Baen teased him.

“Not so old that I can’t appreciate a pretty lass, or give her pleasure, lad. I hope you’ll have the same good fortune when you reach my age.” His father chuckled. “Now speak to me of Elizabeth Meredith, for you have said so little of her.”

“She is a tall girl, and slender, but rounded also,” Baen began. “Her hair is like golden thistledown, and her eyes are a hazel-green. She has a little nose, but slim. And a mouth that was surely made for kissing.

She is wise, and her people love her. She loves the land too, Da, with a passion I am almost jealous of but that she loved me the same way too. But Elizabeth is stubborn, and she can be determined beyond anyone I have ever known. I can well believe she was prepared to raise our child alone, for she has no fear of anyone or anything except perhaps the Lord God.”

“I am sorry then that I shall never meet her,” Colin Hay said. “She sounds like a most worthy young woman. I can hear in your voice how much you love her, Baen. But do not allow her to overrule you, lest that love be killed.”

“It will take time to regain her trust,” Baen said slowly, “but I believe her love for me has not wavered.”

“You will soon know, but for good or evil she is now your wife,” his father answered. And then Colin Hay stood up. “I’m going to bed,” he announced.

“Will you see us off in the morning?” Baen asked his father. “We leave at dawn.”

“Aye,” the master of Grayhaven told his son. “I will see you off.”

Then he turned abruptly and left the hall.

Baen watched him go. He sighed, and then he too departed the hall to find his bed, for the dawn would come sooner than later. And it did.

It seemed to him he had scarce laid his head down when Jamie was shaking him awake. Groaning, he pulled himself from the bed in the chamber he and his brothers had shared. Jamie was a morning person, but Gilly was not. Swearing under his breath, he muttered at his brother for waking him so soon.

“Baen will be leaving,” Jamie explained. “Do ye not want to bid our brother farewell? Will we ever see him again? Get up!”

Baen listened to them squabbling back and forth as he washed, scraping the beard from his face, for Elizabeth liked him clean-shaven.

It would be many days before he saw her, but he was already eager for the sight of her. He ran the wooden comb through his unruly locks, then pulled on the rest of his garments, dressing warmly, for the ride would be a long one today, and who knew where they would shelter this night. Then, his brothers trailing in his wake, Baen hurried down into the hall.

The servants were already bringing the meal to the board.

Trenchers of fresh-baked bread filled with hot oat stirabout. A platter of ham, poached eggs, cottage loaf, butter, and a sweet berry jam. Logan Hepburn and Lord Cambridge entered the hall to join them. There was yet no sign of Colin Hay. They ate heartily, quaffing down mugs of ale along with their food. And when they had finished, the master of Grayhaven came into the hall, dressed for riding.