Claire Delacroix (34 page)

The assembled peasantry parted before me in astonishment. I bestowed a confident smile upon them and strode forward, delighted that Tarsuinn and Malachy followed directly behind me.

“How charming of you to offer to wed the lady in my absence,” I said to Alasdair, taking advantage of his surprise to pull Evangeline to my side. Tarsuinn slipped with remarkable agility between the lady and an open-mouthed Ranald, while Malachy elbowed Alasdair away from my side with a disarming smile.

“You cannot do this!” Alasdair argued. “You are a thief and a man with a price upon your head! Is no man in this company brave enough to claim that bounty?”

“My crimes are petty in comparison to yours.” I spoke with such resolve that the men who might have seized me fell back in confusion. Tarsuinn and Malachy flashed their blades to deter the others. “For I never did aspire to steal Inverfyre.”

The assembly gasped.

“You cannot make such a charge without evidence,” Alasdair said.

“Oh, there is evidence aplenty.” I smiled confidently at the company, who gained a better entertainment on this day than any might have hoped. “You and you and you,” I said, pointing to peasant boys near the steps. “Fetch the buckets left by the kitchen door, by the portal that leads to the refuse pile.” They ran off as the crowd watched.

“You cannot usurp the nuptials of the Laird of Inverfyre,” Alasdair insisted.

“You claim to be the Laird of Inverfyre?” I spared him a glance. “Show me the seal. The laird always has the seal in his possession, does he not, Father?”

The priest began to smile as he nodded.

“I do not have the seal,” Alasdair admitted through gritted teeth. “Not as yet.”

“Does anyone have the seal?” I cast an eye over the company, knowing full well that no one could have it in their possession. I evaded Evangeline’s gaze for I feared her silence to be a poor portent of her reaction.

“I demand that you halt this folly…”

“If you do not hold the seal, then you cannot be the laird,” I interrupted Alasdair firmly. “And if none are prepared to invest you with the seal, then you will not be laird soon. Thus, your command is of no import to these proceedings.”

“My lady Evangeline,” Alasdair growled. “Where is the seal of Inverfyre?”

I turned my back upon him, seizing the lady’s hands within my own. “Since there is no Laird of Inverfyre, but there is a Lady of Inverfyre, her nuptials should be of our greater concern. And as the child in her belly is of my seed, I would think that we should be wed with considerable haste. Do you not agree, Father?” I dropped my voice, daring to look into the lady’s eyes only then. “Do you not agree, my lady Evangeline?”

To my relief, she smiled, a twinkle lighting in the blue depths of her eyes. “You are a reckless scoundrel,” she whispered, laughter underlying her words.

I laughed and bowed slightly. “But I am a reckless scoundrel at your service, which is more than can be said for your other choice of spouse on this day.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Alasdair’s grim countenance. “Indeed, I am a scoundrel arrived, I think, not a moment too soon.” Evangeline smiled fully then, her eyes filling with warmth. I captured her hand in mine, my heart thumping with vigor. “Will you wed me, my lady fair?”

* * *

Endgame

Evangeline

* * *

XVIII

What was I to make of Gawain’s deed?

I was thrilled to see him again, more delighted than I knew I should be. I had spent the night trying to wring some conclusion from his return of my mother’s gem to me, even knowing that I should not make much of what he probably thought inconsequential. I had envisioned him heading determinedly south, in the ports of London, perhaps, or Southampton, negotiating for his passage with ease and charm.

But Gawain was here, just as Niall was not, and his very presence addled my wits. When he kissed my knuckles with a flourish, his eyes twinkling with merriment, I could scarcely summon a thought to my head. A yearning took hold within me, perhaps an unhealthy one, but an undeniable one all the same.

This was the father of the child I bore. This was the man who accepted me as I was. This was the man whose very presence made my pulse quicken. Surely, there was but one reply I could make.

I smiled and inclined my head. “I should be delighted to exchange vows with you, Gawain.”

The assembly hooted and stamped, some evidence of our ardor apparent to them. Indeed, Gawain grinned, then scooped me into his arms and swung me high. I laughed, feeling unburdened for the first time in years - nay, decades.

Alasdair stepped forward, his scowl fierce. “I will not permit this match!” he shouted, then pointed at Gawain. “This man is an outcast from this holding, by dint of his thievery and deception, and unfit to usurp the place that should be mine.”

“Usurp you?” Gawain asked, arching a fair brow. “And what of the intended bridegroom, Niall of Glenfannon? Surely, none could have anticipated that he would not arrive here - save a man who had ensured Niall would be absent.”

Alasdair’s lips set and his voice dropped low. “Do you make an accusation? If so, state it clearly, Thief. We shall have truth between us on this day.”

The assembly seemed to hold their collective breath, indeed, I scarce breathed myself. What did Gawain know? What had he dispatched the boys to fetch? In the weight of silence, one sound carried to our ears.

It was the voice of a woman, a woman singing.

She sang an old Gaelic funeral song, a tribute to a nameless fallen warrior. I turned to look toward the gates, then caught my breath at the sight of Adaira. I had not seen her since her betrayal of me, and indeed, could find no reason why she should have contrived that I appear guilty of Fergus’ murder.

But this was not the time to demand such an answer. Adaira was more crooked and bent than I knew her to be, burdened by a weight of grief. Her keening carried as clearly as a mountain stream and drew every eye to her. She walked beside a horse and a man was draped across the horse’s back, a man who was either asleep or dead by his limp posture.

I saw the fallen man’s stature, I saw the dark tangle of his hair, I saw the armor I knew so well. I murmured a prayer, but to no avail. There could be no doubt whose corpse she brought.

Adaira’s daughter had died in birthing a babe abandoned by its sire, and now her son died young as well.

“Niall,” I whispered, wishing it were not so. Gawain’s expression had turned inscrutable, while Alasdair looked wary. Every soul seemed to have turned to a pillar of salt, so still had each become.

I left the church steps and the silent crowd parted before me as I strode to meet Adaira. She looked up at the sound of my footfalls. “My lady?”

“It is, Adaira.”

“I have brought the bridegroom to his nuptials,” she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. “You had to know that only foul play could keep him from this ceremony he desired more than life itself.” And she lifted Niall’s head, cradling his dark curls in her gnarled hands, turning his face to me.

I gasped at the crude slash across his throat, still wet and fresh. Indeed, I stepped backward so hastily that I tripped on the hem of my gown. The crowd murmured angrily.

“Who did this deed?” I cried.

“Who knew that Niall would not reach the chapel steps this day?” Gawain asked, more calm than I.

Alasdair flushed. “Do you call me a murderer?”

“If he does not, I do,” Adaira shouted. She left the horse and clambered up the chapel steps. “You and your kin are all murderers and thieves, all determined to possess what should not by rights be yours, no matter what the price.”

Alasdair rose to his full height. “Fergus was right in banning you from this keep,” he said. “You are no more than a madwoman of the woods, and only nonsense falls from your lips. Begone, begone to your hovel in the forest and plague us no longer!”

Adaira began to laugh. “Nonsense is not why Fergus banned me from Inverfyre. The truth was what he feared, not nonsense.”

“You do not know what you say!”

“I know precisely what I say.”

“What whimsy is in this old woman’s reminiscences!” Alasdair scoffed. “We have assembled for nuptials and a feast, not foolish tales.”

Gawain raised a hand to silence the other man. “Do you fear what she might tell? It seems you must, for all others are intrigued.”

“We shall listen,” I insisted. “For no good choice can be made with only part of the tale.”

Alasdair fell silent with obvious reluctance.

Adaira gestured to me. “My lady, who tended your father at the end of his days?”

“You did. All were forbidden from his chambers,” I informed the company. “All save Adaira, my mother and I, for this was my father’s demand.”

Adaira nodded. “But I slept one morning, after Gilchrist had a long and troubled night, while the ladies slumbered themselves. It was early, for even the goats had not begun to bleat.”

The assembly eased closer, their attention complete. Adaira nodded, as if lost in the memory of that day. “I was in the corner, in a shadow, which must have been why Fergus did not note me when he crept into the solar. I noted him, though, for my hearing has long been sharp. I knew it was him, though I was fool enough to think Gilchrist’s fears the ravings of a dying man much enamored of his own authority.

“I heard Fergus approach the bed. I heard him whisper to Gilchrist that the time had come to pay his due. Then I heard Gilchrist struggle to breathe. The sound of him was muffled, just as it would be if something was held over his face, as if something kept the breath from filling his chest.”

“You know nothing!” Alasdair said with scorn. “You insult the memory of Fergus MacLaren, the last Laird of Inverfyre!”

“While you insult the memory of the last true Laird of Inverfyre by refusing to acknowledge his untimely death,” Adaira snapped. “I have no doubt of Fergus’ guilt, and indeed on that morn, I did not dare to move from my corner lest a murderer cast his gaze upon me.”

The crowd murmured, but Adaira held up a warning finger and her voice became more resonant. “I will tell you this - Gilchrist pledged nothing to Fergus, he had neither the chance nor the desire. Fergus’ claim to Inverfyre was based on nothing but his own lust for the holding, a claim he could make as there were no witnesses of Gilchrist’s last moments.”

“Nonsense!” Alasdair laughed a little too loudly. “Gilchrist made Fergus his heir! We all know as much.”

“He never did,” Adaira said with resolve. “Fergus lied to steal the suzerainty of Inverfyre. He embellished that lie further to fetch himself a pretty bride. Gilchrist promised him neither Inverfyre nor his sole daughter. Fergus lied, and he lied to better the circumstance of his own sorry kin. You arrived shortly thereafter, for you knew in advance of his plan, just as Fergus knew in advance of his arrival that our fortunes were failing. You all ensure your success by treachery aforehand.”

A furor erupted in the crowd. A few raised their fists and began to shout for blood. It seemed that I was not the only one to have wondered how my father could have made such a choice of heir.

Sadly, we questioned it too late.

“If what you say is true,” Alasdair scoffed, “if Fergus were truly as wicked as you suggest, then he would have seen you silenced.”

“He was never certain what I knew,” Adaira asserted. “And even he dared not risk too much. He forbade me from Inverfyre, banishing me to the forest where I prefer to be at any rate. I daresay I have eaten better than most of you beneath his hand.”

“This is madness!” Alasdair appealed to the crowd with a charming smile. “This accusation is made upon nothing but the word of a sightless woman known to be ancient and addled.”

“You think you are safe from the word of a blind woman,” Adaira sneered. “You think I do not know your smell, the sound of your footsteps, the rhythm of your breathing, the echo of your voice. You think a man can be identified by sight alone, and in this you are wrong.” Alasdair took a step back but Adaira pursued him. “You think that because you cannot hear another in the forest, that there cannot be another there, that another cannot hear you.”

Alasdair paled, as Adaira tapped his chest with a gnarled finger.

“I heard you argue with Fergus,” she said. “I heard you tell him that his scheme to possess Inverfyre took too long. I heard you accuse him of cowardice.”

“Lies! These are all lies!”

“You stood outside the gates of Inverfyre, awaiting your hunting party. Fergus sent his squire on some errand, to ensure that the two of you were momentarily alone. You were restless, your words strident. You told Fergus that he took too long in fulfilling your family scheme, that it was time he named a successor and retired to his hunting.”

“I did not…”

“You told him that if he were man at all, he would step aside. You told him that the MacLarens appreciated all he had done, but that the time had come for action. He told you to learn patience, but still he was goaded and angered, precisely as you intended. I heard you, Alasdair MacLaren.”