Thirteen
They stopped just inside the hall when the king held up his hand for them to do so. He sat at the dais with an empty spot to his left, which he motioned for Iain to take. As Iain made his way to the dais, Bridgette felt the king’s curious gaze on her and was glad when he turned his head to speak privately with Iain for a moment.
Alex leaned toward her. “Archibald Douglas sits to the king’s right. Next to Archibald is Robert Erskine, and next to him is John Danielson. At the end is the steward,” he whispered. “Dunnae ye ken it’s interesting that the king sits his nephew the farthest away from him in the least important seat? The king suspects what I’ve said from the start—his nephew is not as faithful as he wishes to appear.”
She gaped at her brother. Why did he act as if he knew the king’s mind?
The tap of footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned her head to see Lachlan entering the great hall. Her breath caught in her throat at the agony and helplessness in his eyes. She could only imagine what he was thinking and feeling. Her own thoughts made her throat tighten and her head pound. Lachlan could not fight for her. If he made his desires known here, it would be like purposely destroying the already-tattered bond with his brother.
The seer’s prediction echoed in her head. She feared Lachlan would not stay silent when he must. He strode past her to sit at the first table, and then came Graham, who walked much slower than Lachlan due to his limp.
Graham paused in front of her, took her hand, and kissed the top of it. “Dunnae fash yerself,” he said, his voice confident.
Guilt and fear made Bridgette tremble. She could not see how this was going to end well. Next came Colin, who gave her that same triumphant look, as he had when she had first seen him on the birlinn, and after Colin came Cameron, who closed the great wooden doors with an ominousthunk.
She was the only woman present. Her heart thudded at this. She was the only woman present because it was a man’s game to give a woman away against her wishes like a prize and not a person. She curled her hands into fists.
“Bridgette MacLean, come forward,” King David commanded, his curt tone almost an affront to the silence that had been.
Queasiness swept through her as if she was going to faint, and the weakness angered her. She was strong. She had to make herself move. She walked forward on legs that wobbled, but she somehow managed to pause the appropriate distance from the king and curtsy, as was proper. He motioned her closer until she was standing in front of the dais with the men above her. She had to tilt her head up to see the king.
“Ye are ready to be biddable, I presume, as is expected as a faithful subject and sister of a laird whose friendship I hold dear. I’m sure ye wish to keep it so.” His dark eyes flashed a warning, and she knew then that she had been cleverly told to do as she was commanded or else her brother would possibly feel the sting of the king’s anger.
Any thoughts of protest slipped from her head as the need to protect Alex presented itself. “Aye, Yer Majesty.”
He gave a nod, as if he had expected no less, and his gaze roamed slowly over her from foot to head. A blush at his obvious inspection of her person heated her face.
“I see now why we are here,” he said. The trace of humor that laced his tone was belied by his severe expression. “Ye’re verra bonny.”
“I’m nae special,” Bridgette responded, as she always did when people made mention of how she looked. She had always wanted to be judged by what was on the inside, not the outer shell that would diminish with age.
King David’s eyebrows arched, showing his surprise. “’Tis an unusual woman who does nae care for praise,” he said in a courteous but patronizing tone.
Bridgette’s face grew hotter, but she held the king’s gaze. “Beauty wanes, Sire, but honor and faithfulness—those things dunnae lessen.”
“Spoken as if ye have the mind of a man,” he said, his voice no longer patronizing but tinged with surprise. “Ye are a prize to be sure.” She had to grit her teeth to keep from saying anything. He waved his hand at her. “Ye may sit now that I have taken yer measure.”
She turned, expecting to make her way to the table alone, but Graham came forward and proffered his arm, which she took. He drew her close and said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “I’ve missed ye.”
She did not look at Lachlan. She dared not. Yet she could feel the barely leashed vexation in him reaching out and brushing her. Her nostrils flared as she licked her lips. “Ye look well, Graham,” she replied, picking harmless words so not to give him false hope, yet words that were also ambiguous and would not shame or hurt him.
He grinned. “Thank ye.”
“The lass can manage to seat herself, Graham,” the king said in a stern tone that left no doubt that Graham’s impulsively coming to her had stoked the king’s ire.
She removed her hand quickly and scuttled past Graham to take a seat at the closest table. The king had a stubborn, arrogant face, and when he swept his gaze across the room at the men, she noted that arrogance did not fade.
“I’ve traveled a long road, nae only today but since my release from captivity. I’ve ridden hard all over my land to reward those who remained faithful to me while I was imprisoned.” The king swept his hand to his right. “Have I nae rewarded faithfulness, Robert?” David asked his nephew.
Bridgette had an uneasy feeling that there was much more to the king’s speech and his questions than she comprehended.
“Aye, David, ye have,” Robert responded.
“See there,” the king boomed. “I am generous to those who are true. Why, I have granted much land to my nephew who acted as regent in my absence. The steward owns so much ofmyland now that he controls much of western and northern Scotland. Am I worried?” the king demanded in a hard, ruthless voice.
For a moment, silence greeted his question. Then he slammed his fists upon the dais, making the goblets jump and rattle. “Am I worried?” he roared.
“Nay.” Lachlan was the first to answer. “Ye ken well those who are faithful and those who are false.”
