Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,9
more about the woman she served. However, before she could ask anything else, Gavina spoke up once more. “Like I said, I know little about such matters … but I would suggest that sometimes men do need a little encouragement.”
Aila’s pulse quickened. Finally, someone is willing to help me. “Such as?”
“Well … if this man is to be at tonight’s banquet, I suggest that ye make an effort to look yer best.” Gavina cast a critical gaze over the simple blue kirtle that Aila wore. “Do ye have a pretty gown for this evening?”
“I have a nice silver-grey kirtle that matches my eyes … I was going to wear that.”
Gavina shook her head. “Grey is no shade for Beltaine. Ye need to shine like the sun tonight, if ye wish the man ye desire to notice ye.” A real smile flowered across Gavina’s face then, and she rose to her feet, brushing off her skirts. It seemed that focusing on Aila’s predicament had made her forget her own. “Come … let’s see if one of my kirtles and surcoats can be adjusted. Ye are a little taller than me, but we are of a similar size.”
“But, My Lady … the laird insisted that—”
“Telling the servants that we’re no longer holding a bonfire can wait,” Gavina replied with an airy wave of her hand. She caught Aila’s eye once more and winked. “We have more important matters of the heart to deal with first.”
IV
OLD FEUDS AND NEW
“I’M NOT BENDING the knee to Longshanks!” David De Keith’s voice cut through the solar, causing the three other men gathered there to grow still. “And I’m not traveling to Stirling … not with Irvine sharpening his dirk at my back!”
Cassian lowered the cup he’d been about to take a sip of wine from, catching Draco Vulcan’s eye. His friend stared back at him, his expression veiled. Cassian’s gaze then flicked to where William Wallace stood by the open window.
Both Draco and Cassian had joined the men they served in the solar for this important meeting.
A few yards away, the De Keith laird stood before the glowing hearth—not that a fire was needed in the solar this afternoon, for the sun streamed in through the open window, pooling like honey upon the deerskins spread across the stone floor.
Wallace was watching De Keith, his bearded face shuttered. “There are worse wolves in the woods than Shaw Irvine,” he rumbled. “Not only that, but we have the men here to deal with the likes of him.” Wallace paused then. “We need to stop fighting with our fellow Scots and face the real enemy … the English. This is a unique opportunity … Longshanks has invited all the northern lairds to visit him in Stirling … to pledge their fealty.”
De Keith snorted, before reaching for the clay bottle of wine on the mantelpiece beside him and refilling his cup. He then took a large gulp. “I told ye … I’m not kneeling to him.”
“No one is suggesting ye do it in earnest,” Wallace replied. “Make the sign of the devil’s horns behind yer back if ye must, when ye pledge yer troth, but it’s Edward ye should be focusing on … not yer brother-by-marriage. We must know what Edward intends, and our best chance of finding out is if ye go to Stirling and bend the knee.”
De Keith scowled. “That’s easy for ye to say, Wallace. Ye left yer clan years ago … ye have forgotten how dangerous old feuds can be.”
Wallace’s dark gaze narrowed. Across the room, Cassian grew still. He’d only known William Wallace a little over a month, but had already noted that he wasn’t a man to cross. Usually, De Keith minded him—but this afternoon, the laird wore a disgusted expression, as if someone had over-salted his porridge.
“Old feuds are meaningless,” Wallace answered. “Especially if we all end up under the English yoke.” He paused there, his heavy brow furrowing. “That’s how they’ll defeat us in the end … they’ll use the fact that we squabble like brats amongst ourselves instead of uniting against them.”
The laird’s brown eyes glinted. “Why don’t ye go to Stirling, William? I’m sure Longshanks would be delighted if ye bent the knee to him.”
Wallace huffed a laugh. “Things have gone too far between me and Edward for that. He’d have me strung up.” The big man’s expression sobered then. “Besides, it’s vital that my presence in Dunnottar remains a secret. The English can never know I’m here.”