Torrian (The Highland Clan Book 2) (18 page)

Quade came over to stand by his side. “My king, I wish to share with you my main concern with this match.”

“Go ahead, though I’ll not listen to these same arguments for long, Ramsay. I’m tired and need to find my chamber.”

“Davina was found in a compromising situation with Ranulf MacNiven. My daughter heard MacNiven promise to kill my son so they could marry and gain control of our land.”

The king tipped his head to one side. “Ramsay, I cannot blame someone for coupling before the lass is married. As for the other, the Buchans have already informed me of this accusation that they claim to be completely false.” He sighed, holding his head. “Seems to me I’m going to have to decide which of my subjects is lying and which is being honest. How I detest these decisions. Verra well. I’ll consider your arguments and will announce my final decision on the morrow.

Logan stepped forward, “May I add, my king, that Gwyneth discovered deceit over an archery contest. MacNiven tampered with Torrian’s arrows, causing them to fishtail.”

The king mopped his brow with a linen square. “I understand the Buchans may have questionable tactics. But do you not recall how desperately I need this match to keep my kingdom in peace? Does all that has transpired not convince you, Logan Ramsay, that I need this family to keep watch over the Buchans even more? Peace is more important than the desires of two young ones. Please remember that. Son, you marry for the Scots and for your clan.” He moved around his desk and headed toward the door. “I’ve heard all I care to hear. I do promise to give this matter careful consideration. Good eve, gentlemen.”

Torrian stared at his sire and his uncles. He could tell from the expressions on their faces that their session with the king could not have gone any worse.

Chapter Twenty

When the king proclaimed he was ready to announce his decision, the great hall quickly filled to capacity. The king sat at the dais with his advisors, the Buchans stood on one side glaring at the Ramsays on the opposite side. Torrian feared that if the regent did not make his announcement soon, the warriors would launch themselves across the room at one another.

The king leaned over to speak to the head of his guards, and the man whistled. Another line of guards came in and stood beside each of the groups. Torrian stared at his feet so as not to laugh. Apparently, the king had the same thought. This could turn violent if the looks on the Buchans’ faces were any indication.

Several others from the burgh entered to stand at the back of the room, interested in any important proceedings at Edinburgh Castle. Quiet whisperings could be heard until the king held up his hand in a demand for silence. He waved to Quade and to Glenn of Buchan and the two groups stepped forward. Torrian stood directly in front of the king, and Quade, Brenna, Logan, Gwyneth, and Micheil were behind him. The bairns stood gathered behind their parents.

On the other side, Davina of Buchan sauntered over, swaying her hips as she moved, much to the delight of the lads in the chamber, but Torrian ignored her. Behind her stood her sire, her brothers Dugald and Cormag, and Ranulf.

The only one who did not seem in control of her emotions was Lily, whose cheeks were already flooded with tears. Her sniffling was the only sound to be heard.

A guard stepped forward. “The king will make his pronouncement now. All subjects are to be quiet until he leaves the chamber.”

The king stood, rubbing the bandage on his left hand. Torrian could only guess Jennet had tended his hand as promised. Torrian glanced over his shoulder and noticed Molly had a firm hand on Jennet while Maggie held Brigid.

Torrian’s gut clenched as he waited. Sweat broke out on his brow, but he forced himself to think about Heather’s beautiful face, her warm smile, and her shimmering eyes, one blue and one green.

The king began. “I have given both sides careful consideration, and I have not found any reason compelling enough to change my original decision. I believe it to be in the best interest of this kingdom for Davina Buchan to marry Torrian Ramsay and make an alliance between the two clans. The marriage will take place here on the morrow. If either of you refuse, you’ll be in chains in my dungeon.”

The Buchan contingency erupted into cheers, along with many of the spectators. Torrian glanced at his sire to see his reaction. There was unmistakable disappointment in Quade’s eyes, and Brenna seemed close to tears. Torrian’s sire wrapped his arm around Brenna’s waist to pull her close, and she buried her face in his leine.

That was why none of them noticed when a wee lass with brown hair and intent brown eyes strode to the front of the dais and then marched over to Ranulf MacNiven. She stood in front of him with her arm outstretched, but he ignored her.

The rest of the crowd was still reacting to the king’s decree, talking amongst themselves, comforting one another, and some were even crying, but Jennet stood firm in front of Ranulf and the rest of the Buchans.

Torrian watched as Ranulf tried to push her hand away, but Jennet held firm. Scowling, she proceeded to push something toward him. Then he showed his true nature.

“Enough, you wee witch. Go back to your own.” His shout echoed across the hall.

She dropped her arm, but the wee lass was too strong natured to be frightened by a bellowing voice. Rather than back away, she continued to stare at him in confusion. Torrian almost moved to her side, but something in his gut told him to wait.

The chamber quieted at Ranulf’s bellow, but he continued to lambaste her because she had not yet moved. Finally he grabbed her, spun her around, and shoved her back toward the Ramsays. “Get away from me, you bitch!”

The entire room froze. Brenna and Quade finally noticed Jennet had left the group, and they ushered her over to them. “My apologies, my king,” Brenna said.

The king stood and raised his arms. “Silence!”

The only one who made a peep was Jennet, who stared up at her mother with wide eyes. “But Mama, I must give him another.”

“Lady Brenna, bring the lass forward,” the king said. He stepped down from the dais so as to be closer to her height. “She did such a fine job tending me this morn that I wish to hear what she has to say.”

“This is preposterous, my king,” Ranulf shouted. “Why are you wasting your time with a wee bairn?”

King Alexander glowered at him. “I said silence to all, and that includes you, MacNiven. Sometimes, ‘tis only the wee bairns that speak the truth.”

Jennet still held on to some mystery object as she stared up at the king.

The king returned his attention to Jennet. “Now, my wee lassie, what is that in your hand?”

Jennet replied, “First, my king, I must ask after your hand. Has the ointment helped at all?”

Ranulf made to move toward Jennet, but two guards grabbed him and held him in his place.

The king threw his head back and laughed. “Aye, but you’ll make the Scots a fine healer, just like your mama and Aunt Jennie before you. My hand is much better, and my thanks to you. Now tell me why you wish to speak to Ranulf here.” He waved his hand toward the Buchans.

“I was just doing as he asked. When he was at our castle, he came upon Brigid and me as we were practicing surgery on a dead chicken. He requested two vials of blood, but I only had enough blood to give him one vial.” She held the glass vial in her hand up for him to inspect. “Do you not see? I have brought him his second vial as he requested. He said he needed it right away, so I gave him my sincerest apologies. He does not seem verra happy that it took so long.”

Torrian couldn’t believe what he’d heard. So that explained where Davina had gotten the blood. He knew it had not come from her, unless she’d pricked herself, but that would have been too easily seen. He glanced at Uncle Logan, Uncle Micheil, and Aunt Gwyneth, and their grins made the hope in his heart blossom. Was his luck truly about to change?

The king took the vial from Jennet and said, “I’ll take care of it, my dear. You may return to your family.”

He held the glass up to the light coming in through the window, and Torrian could tell from the dark red cast and the way it stuck to the glass that it was indeed a vial of blood. His king marched over to Davina and whispered, “Is this true, lass? Did you use a vial of chicken’s blood to deceive me into believing this lad stole your maidenhead?”

Davina stared up at the king, her lower lip trembling. She burst into tears and flung her arm out, pointing her finger toward her father. “He made me do it; they both did. I just wished to marry him to make my sire happy.” Her tears turned into sobs and she dropped her head into her hands in embarrassment.

The king returned to his dais, his eyes blazing. No one spoke a word, but the sounds of Davina’s tears echoed throughout the chamber. As soon as he reached his spot, he declared, “The wedding is off due to this trickery! Ramsays, you are all free to go. Buchans and the MacNiven, I shall see you in my solar…
now
!

Lily jumped a foot in the air and ran to Torrian, hugging him and crying on his shoulder. Then she turned to her wee sister, lifted her into the air, and kissed both her cheeks. “You are different, Jennet, but I do love you so.”

Jennet frowned as her family fussed over her. “I do not understand all this fuss over the vial of blood, but clearly ‘tis a good thing.”

One of the king’s advisors came over to them and said, “The king has ordered a feast for your clan in the East Hall. Please join us there.”

As the hugs and well wishes continued, Torrian watched the Buchans leave and said a quick prayer of thanks. Glenn of Buchan made his way over to Micheil, standing on the edge of the chamber, and Torrian heard him say, “This is not over. We will finish it.”

Micheil drawled, “I look forward to it.”

As soon as the family was alone in the East Hall, many of them already seated at the massive trestle table, Brenna and Quade called wee Jennet to them. Everyone ceased talking to listen to Brenna. “Now, I know you all wish to thank Jennet and pat her on her back,” she said, “but I have something else to say to her.”

Jennet hung her head. “I know, Mama. My apologies. ‘Twas wrong to go against your wishes.”

Brigid burst into tears in her seat next to Logan. He picked her up and hugged her. “Now tell your Aunt Brenna what you have to say.” Logan set her down next to Jennet. The wee lassies almost appeared to be twins, they looked so much alike. Their hair was almost the same color, a chestnut brown, and both had worn it tied back in buns in a manner that Aunt Avelina had taught them. They wore light-colored matching gowns decorated with wide ribbons, but Jennet’s eyes were brown while Brigid’s were green, and Brigid was a wee bit shorter than her older cousin.

Gwyneth prompted, “Go on, Brigid. Speak up.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Brenna, for doing surgery without you.”

Jennet added, “Do not be mad at her, Mama. ‘Twas my idea. I do not know why the king wished to keep the vial, though. ‘Twas the other who requested it.”

Torrian came up behind the two of them, scooped one up in each arm and lifted them high in the air. “I must say my thanks to you, wee troublemakers. You’ve saved the day for me.” He kissed both of their cheeks with loud smacks until they giggled.

Brenna stepped next to him and said, “Hell, but I must agree with him this time, lassies. Still, you must never do to it again!” She kissed each of the girls, causing them to giggle even more.

“Mama, you said a bad word,” Jennet peered at her.

“Aye, ‘tis true, but ‘twas an especially unnerving day. Do not think you may repeat it, either. I’ll forgive you for doing the surgery this time, but you must be wiser about your decisions.”

They all resumed their seats at the table, and soon servants entered with trays full of pheasant, pork, and meat pies, along with a huge bowl of peas and another overflowing with carrots and turnips, Lily’s favorite. There were several loaves of crusty breads warm from the ovens, though of course Torrian and Lily could not touch those.

A dish of blackberries and walnuts came next, along with plum pudding and an apple pie, but the last dish was set in front of Jennet.

Ena said, “This is special from the king just for you, lass.”

Jennet’s eyes lit up at the bowl of orange slices that had been set in front of her. They’d never seen them before. She bit into one and sprayed juice everywhere, then shared her slices with everyone at the table.

Once everyone filled their plates, Logan held his hand up, silencing everyone. “I still have one question. It does not add up for me. Brenna, do not take offense, your daughter is bright, but I have to wonder. Jennet, why did you bring that vial with you today? Why did you not wait until later?”

Torrian had wondered the same thing. It was difficult to believe a lass of that age, particularly one who did not seem to understand the significance of her action, could have timed her move so well.

Jennet picked her head up and pointed to someone sitting nearby.

A head full of dark curls tipped down to stare at her hands in her lap, her blush a deep pink.

“Molly?” Logan said.

She picked her head up, straightened her shoulders, and replied. “I found the vial in her satchel last night and asked her about it. When she explained it to me, I kept it in my pocket until I thought the time was right, then I handed it to her and told her to take it to that man.”

Gwyneth, who was seated next to her daughter, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Perfect, just perfect you are, and you always have been.”

Molly grinned with pleasure.

“You’re right, Gwynie,” Logan added. “She’ll make a great spy for the crown.”