The Snow White Bride (22 page)

He had the curious sense that she knew what he held, that she knew what had just occurred, though she could not possibly have heard their words. And what would she make of these tidings? She began to lean out the window, as if she would hail him or congratulate him over adding to his holdings.

Alexander closed his fist over the seal and pushed it into his purse. It might be folly, but holding all of his family’s legacy made him doubly determined to survive whatever intent the lady might have for him.

The simplest solution, he realized with sudden vigor, had been his first impulse. He had to win her affection in truth, for no woman would be anxious to lose the man who held her heart.

By any reckoning, he had at least nine months to do so, for it would take nine months for any son to show himself—and his gender—to the world.

Such a feat still meant that Alexander had to unveil Eleanor’s many secrets first. It was fortunate indeed that he was cursed stubborn, or so his sisters had oft maintained. This was one challenge that Alexander meant to win. He spared his wife a last glance, noting that she withdrew into their chamber, then strode to the hall.

He had need of a fortifying meal to face the challenge this lady presented.

* * * * *

H
orses!

Eleanor awakened to the thunder of hoofbeats. She had fallen asleep atop the bed linens, still in her garb from the day before. At the sound of horses, she was on her feet and at the window. She caught her breath as the most magnificent beasts she had ever seen galloped into Kinfairlie’s bailey. They were exquisite creatures, each of them with a coat of gleaming black so dark it might have been unnatural.

She had never seen their like, and Eleanor had seen many steeds. Indeed, she loved horses so that her first urge was to run to the stables to greet these beasts. They
were massive but gracefully wrought, their nostrils flared and their necks arched proudly. Their tails and manes were long and silky, and as dark as ebony. They stamped with regal impatience when they were halted, as if they would have run clear to Jerusalem, given their head.

And there were so many of them. Eleanor leaned against the wall beside the window, her knees weak with the desire to ride one of these splendid beasts. She dared not leave the window, barely dared to blink, so anxious was she to feast upon the sight of them.

She noted belatedly that Alexander stood before them, his hair nigh as dark as the coats of the sleek steeds. The man who spoke with him shared his coloring and his height. They seemed to be arguing. Were they friends or family? She could not hear a word they said, and her gaze flicked between the horses and her husband.

Something was resolv
ed, for both horses and guest
turned toward the stables. Alexander glanced up, and though her impulse was to hide herself from view, Eleanor held her ground. Her heart fluttered with the hope that he would come to her, but Alexander turned away, his silent dismissal sending Eleanor’s heart plummeting to her toes.

But she was no frail maiden who wo
uld hide in her
chambers. If Alexander would not come to her, then she
would go to him.

* * * * *

M
alcolm joined Alexander
in the hall, just as it began to bustle. Sentries and mercenaries broke their fast at the tables, their manner more subdued than was typical.
A
fire
c
rackled merrily on the hearth, for the Yule log was scarce consumed. The smell of fresh bread filled the hall and one could hear singing in the kitchens. There was ale, though it was thin, and fresh strewing herbs upon the floor.

“Kinfairlie looks different,” Malcolm said with a frown. “What has changed?”

“I married on Christmas Day,” Alexander said with all the insouciance he could muster. His brother regarded him in shock. “And my lady wife takes the household beneath her command.”

“You wed?” Malcolm sputtered. “Who? How? When?” He put his cup down heavily on the board.
“This
very week?”

“It is a shame you did not come sooner,” Alexander
mused, enjoying his brother’s astonishment. “For Made
l
ine and Rhys were here for
Christmas Eve, as were Vivi
enne and Erik.”

“Wait a moment. Madeline and Vivienne were here,
with the husbands you arranged for them to wed without their agreement.” A suspicious light dawned in Malcolm’s eyes. “And they departed when, precisely?”

“Yesterday,” Alexander admitted.

“And you were wed while they were resident?”

“As I said.”

Malcolm began to laugh.
“
That was a hasty courtship, brother mine,” he said, h
is eyes dancing. “When last we
spoke, you had no intent to wed, nor were you courting any maiden’s affections.”

“
I met the
lady on the eve of Christmas…
”

“The day before your nuptials! When Madeline and
Vivienne were both present in this hall. I smell retaliation, Alexander!”

“…
though that does not change the measure of my admiration for her.”

“Admit the truth,” Malcolm insisted, his manner gleeful. “Madeline and Vivienne avenged themselves upon you.”

Alexander nodded. “That is not to say that matters will not come aright in the end, as both of them have learned.”

Malcolm sipped his ale, his gaze knowing. “The match is amiable, then?”

“Of course.” Alexander had no desire to confess his misgivings to his brother, for any detail he admitted to one sibling would be immediately shared with all the others. He had protected them all from the truth of Kinfairlie’s finances for so long that it was instinctive to protect them from other harsh truths. “In fact, Eleanor is most anxious to conceive a son.”

“Truly?” Malcolm chewed his bread as he considered this detail. He studied Alexander as if he suspected that his brother told but half of the tale. “An amorous wife is not such a terrible fate. I salute you, Alexander, for it seems that all comes aright for you, even when our sisters scheme against you. That is a feat!”

“I do not know that all proceeds as well as that
…
”

“You are modest! Kinfairlie is secure in your hands and at peace, you have a hall full of loyal men, a stable full of fine steeds, two sisters married well, and your own wife desirous of an heir.” There was no bitterness in Malcolm’s tone, for his nature had never been tinged with avarice, but Alexander felt a desire to set matters straight.

He leaned an elbow on the table, lowering his voice in confidence. “I tell you one matter that does not go aright with ease,” he said, and Malcolm leaned closer. Alexander grimaced. “In truth, I forget much of courting a lady’s favor. Have you any counsel for me?”

Malcolm’s eyes widened. “Surely you jest.”

“Surely not.”

“You courted every maiden from here to London, and not without success!”

Alexander shook his head in mock dismay. “It is different to flirt with the affections of maidens than to foster love in the heart of one’s wife.”

“Ah, so for once in your days, you wish for more than mere pleasure abed.” Malcolm grinned, his own woes forgotten. “Are you smitten, brother mine?”

Alexander only smiled.

Malcolm nodded, apparently satisfied. “I shall tell you the sole thing I know about the courtship of women, for my success in such endeavors could never begin to match your own,” he said. “This counsel comes from Uncle Tynan, and I am not certain that he meant to confide it in me. He might merely have been speaking his thoughts aloud.”

This was no tempting prospect, in Alexander’s view, for Tynan had died unwed after rejecting the affection offered wholeheartedly by Rosamunde. “Indeed?”

Malcolm frowned. “He said that it is of import to have gifts to bestow upon a lady while courting her. He said he feared that he and Rosamunde had never found happiness together because there was nothing he could offer to her that she did not already possess.”

“He could have surrendered his love to her,” Alexander noted. “For she could not have had that otherwise.”

Malcolm ignored this. “I think he believed that gifts soften a woman’s heart and he disliked that Rosamunde had
such wealth of her own. He only gave her the silver ring that our grandfather had bestowed upon his own bride.”

“And Rosamunde gave it back.”

Malcolm nodded. “He wore it all the time after she left his side, and he would stare at it every night in silence. I think he knew that he had forsaken his opportunity, and I think he believed that the one gift he had given her had not been the right one.”

Alexander stared into his cup and considered this. There might be wisdom in it, after all. Would the right gift given to Eleanor in the right moment dissolve her determination to be rid of him? Could he prove himself to be a spouse worth the keeping?

Eleanor had an affection for horses, of that Alexander was certain. He recalled the admiration in her eyes when she had stroked the steeds of the departing parties the day before. Her features had lit as seldom they did. He could envision Eleanor upon one of the black horses of Ravensmuir, and recalled all too well how she had walked from Ewen’s abode. Perhaps she had left a favored steed behind, being uncertain of her destination. Perhaps Ewen had denied her a steed of her own.

And so, what better way to persuade her that Alexander courted her affection? Further, if he gave her the means to flee him, would that not show that he had no desire to imprison her against her will? Might that not show him better than her former spouses?

A man could only try.

He fixed Malcolm with a bright gaze. “Do you fully surrender Ravensmuir’s steeds unto me?”

“Of course. I know that you will see them well treated and that you know as much of breeding as do I. You lived
at Ravensmuir for years, after all, while Uncle Tynan trained you for knighthood.”

“Then I think I shall choose a mare for my lady wife,” Alexander said, pushing to his feet with resolve.

“What a splendid wedding gift!” Malcolm agreed. “I will aid you in the choosing, for I know the nature of each horse. We can make a match to her own nature.”

But the men would not have to do as much in the lady’s absence. Just as they rose from the board with purpose, Alexander saw Eleanor at the foot of the stairs. She seemed hesitant to approach him, and he cursed himself for creating that hesitation.

He turned and smiled, offering his hand. “Eleanor, come and meet my brother Malcolm.”

* * * * *

E
leanor crossed the hall
floor with deliberate steps, taking the opportunity to study this new arrival. So, this was one of the brothers who would welcome the seal of Kinfairlie, should Alexander die without an heir. He was younger than her husband, but not by much. They shared the same ebony hair and muscled build, though Malcolm had green eyes. They were far less attractive, to Eleanor’s thinking, than eyes of sparkling blue.

Eleanor smiled politely even as she resolved that Malcolm would never win her husband’s holding. It would pass to their son, of that she meant to be certain.

They exchanged greetings; then Malcolm smiled at Eleanor. “Do you ride often, then?” he asked, and she had the sense that she had stepped into the midst of a conversation.

“Of course, I was taught to ride, all noblewomen are,” she said, sparing a glance to Alexander. He looked as innocent as an angel, a most uncommon expression for him, and one that made her wonder at his intent. “Why do you ask?”

“I have asked Alexander to ensure the care of the horses from my stable in my absence, and he proposes to grant you one as a wedding gift.”

Eleanor felt the blood drain from her face at the prospect. She could not endure past horror again!

She felt her mouth work for a moment before she managed to make a sound. “I have no need of a steed of my own,” she said, her voice unsteady. “Though I thank you for the thought.”

“It is more than a thought,” Alexander said, claiming her elbow. “It is a deed to be done. Come along and aid in the choosing.”

“No!” Eleanor cried with such vigor that the entire household turned to look. “I beg of you, no. I have no desire for a horse.” Her words fell with uncharacteristic haste, in her fear that the past was to be repeated
.
“I am content to walk, truly.”

Alexander bent toward her, his eyes gleaming. “Eleanor, you make little sense in this,” he said in that quiet but firm tone that brooked no argument. “You need not fear the expense,” he said, mistaking the reason for her protest. “I will see my lady with a mount of her own, and that is how matters shall be.”

“I will not choose one,” she insisted, knowing she sounded like a fool. “I will take no part in this scheme.” And then, because he looked inclined to insist, she lied. “I am afraid of horses, Alexander.”

“But you said that
you learned to ride young…
”

“And so I did, and for years I did so, despite my fear. But I have had numerous bad experiences and do not venture near steeds any longer.”

“
The best remedy for a fall is to climb into the saddle again,” Malcolm said, his manner helpful. “And you need not fear that a Ravensmuir horse will throw you. It takes much to provoke them.”

“No!” Eleanor said, too loudly. “I decline your gift!” She turned furiously upon Alexander, knowing she sounded mad, but needing to ensure that this did not occur. “Have the grace to accept my refusal!
I will have no horse!”

The household stood in astonished silence, but Eleanor pivoted and left the hall. Once on the stairs, she ran as quickly as she could for the sanctuary of the solar. She pushed past one of Alexander’s sisters on the stairs, sparing no time to answer her query. She flung herself into the solar and turned the key against the lot of them.

It was only then that Eleanor let herself weep. It was her own folly at fault, to be sure. She had betrayed Blanchefleur’s memory by showing affection to the horses the day before, and now her affection would be used against her.

As it had been before.

She could not let that crime happen again, she could not—she cared not what she had to say to make it so. Let them think her mad. So long as the steeds were safe, she did not care.