Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,31
that the baron, who’d become ‘Guardian of the Realm’ after the forced abdication of his uncle King John Balliol five years earlier, had already bent the knee to Edward.
He wouldn’t be standing here if he hadn’t.
“You are the first laird of the north to come to me,” Edward continued, still in French. Cassian noted that he spoke with a slight lisp, although it didn’t diminish the strength of his voice. “I’m pleased to see that the laird of Dunnottar is a reasonable man at least.”
Cassian cast a glance at where David De Keith had halted next to him. The laird wore a stony expression.
Cassian tensed. They’d already discussed how important it was that the English king thought he’d come in good faith. David had to make a show of subservience. De Keith would need to bend the knee, even if he never intended to honor the gesture. Otherwise, Lady Elizabeth was never going to get her husband back, and Wallace wasn’t going to receive the news he so desperately wanted. It would also ensure they could leave Stirling and return home unmolested.
De Keith needed to favor Edward with one of his charming smiles.
Moments passed, and De Keith eventually managed a tight-lipped grimace—however, he didn’t kneel as was expected.
The uncomfortable silence drew out, before Edward’s greying brows knitted together. Yet he didn’t speak. He waited his guest out.
Eventually, David De Keith cleared his throat. A nerve flickered under one eye as he dipped his chin. “Je suis ici pour l'Ecosse,” he replied in French, his voice unnaturally rough and his words halting.
I’m here for Scotland. Cassian smiled at this. Good … he’s finally playing the game.
“And I hope to do what is in its best interests,” De Keith concluded.
Edward’s gaze narrowed further before he pushed himself up off his chair, looming over them. He was an imposing sight in his chainmail and crown. He then favored the laird with a cool smile. “That’s pleasing to hear, De Keith.”
The De Keiths banqueted with the English king that evening in the Great Hall.
As always, Cassian accompanied his laird, keeping one step behind him when they re-entered the hall to find it a very different space than earlier that day.
Long tables had been carried in, and flickering torches illuminated the cavernous chamber, bathing the pitted stone walls in warmth. A huge hearth burned at one end of the hall, casting a red-gold glow over the faces of Edward, John Comyn, and the king’s retainers as they all took their places at the king’s table on the dais.
De Keith was to join them.
“Keep yer eyes open, Captain,” David muttered to Cassian. He spoke in Gaelic. “We’ve truly walked into the adder’s nest here.” The laird’s gaze settled upon the platters of roast meats and steamed greens the servants were placing upon the long table. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to poison us.”
“Poison isn’t kingly,” Cassian replied, keeping his voice low. “If Edward wanted you dead, he’d likely just run you through with his sword.”
De Keith cast Cassian a frown. He’d been making a statement; he hadn’t wanted to be contradicted.
“De Keith!” Edward beckoned to David, motioning to his left side. Comyn ‘The Red’ sat to his right, his expression as inscrutable as earlier. “Come and sit with me this eve … so we may speak.”
De Keith did as bid, although Cassian noted he now wore a pained look. Those seated upon the dais spread out in a row upon the long table, flanking Edward and facing those seated below. Lady Gavina followed her husband up onto the dais and took a seat to his left. As always, De Keith ignored her.
Cassian sat down between the laird’s wife and Lady Elizabeth. Both women looked lovely this eve clad in their best kirtles and surcoats, their hair woven into elaborate twists and braids upon their heads.
Aila will have been busy this afternoon, Cassian thought, imagining the young woman’s face creased in concentration as she worked on her mistress’s hair.
Cassian tensed. What was he doing thinking about Lady Gavina’s maid? He hadn’t seen her since they’d ridden into the castle, for she’d been tucked away in the guest apartments. But all of a sudden, a vision of her sweet face, her large grey eyes staring up at him as she favored him with an eager smile, arose before him.
Irritated at how easily a few days in the woman’s company had affected him, Cassian shoved the vision of Aila De Keith aside.