Chapter 7

Upon entering the breakfast room the next morning, I beheld the bedraggled state of my bleary-eyed brothers. They picked at the eggs and only tentatively sipped at their coffee. It was clear the long night of revelry had gotten the better of them. Mother and Father sat at their customary, smaller table, separate from the long one we children occupied. Their voices were low and their conversation intense.

"Morning," I said, as I slid into the open chair between Ian and Thomas. Rupert and Timothy sat across from me.

"Bug Eyes, hullo," the reeking waste of my brother Rupert said, his voice full of gravel. The rest of them, glassy-eyed and half asleep, ignored me.

Scowling at the nickname, I helped myself to a plateful of food. While I scooped steaming porridge and sausages to my place, I listed as my brothers detailed the post-Standing trouble they had found.

"The Munroe twins were not so high and mighty once we got to the barn. They took verra well to rutting in the hay," Thomas boasted, giving me an especially sly glance to see how I would react.

I simply poured myself a cup of tea.

"Had fun, did ye?" Timothy asked, his tongue rolling out of his mouth as he savored the further, filthier details Thomas was more than happy to provide.

After a quick primer on the finer points of the various creature husbandry that could take place in a barn, I looked up and asked Thomas, "Is that why you smell like manure, brother, or perhaps that is your custom cologne?"

The four men around me went silent. I tried to bite back my tight-lipped smile as they blinked at me.

"I dinna knew she could speak!" Rupert said, eyes bulging. "I only ever heard her say 'morning' or 'excuse me'."

"'Dinna knew she could speak'," I parroted back, mocking his foul grammar and low slang. "Did a tutor make you that stupid?"

Again there was a moment of silence before Rupert exploded into laughter. He slapped his knee and shook his head. "Oh! Where have you been, lassie? Who put the firecracker in your tongue?"

I shrugged, biting into my toast. But I met Ian's eyes and smiled. He returned the gesture with a pleased look. "The party must have put me in a good mood." Ian's brief yet educational conversation followed by an evening of laughing and talking with my best friend had done wonders for my sense of wellbeing.

Thomas looked at me askance and then smiled devilishly, "I don't think I was the only one to make a conquest last night."

There was a round of low chuckles around me.

"Tell us, sister, how was the Lord Leslie? Did you give him a proper welcome home?"

I choked with surprise on the dry toast, quickly reaching for a glass of water to wash it down. I drank it all, buying myself time for a reply. I was saved from my predicament when Father called my name.

"Eilean!" Came the shout, silencing the snickering of my brothers near me and the conversation the other three engaged in further down the table.

I stood up, the legs of my chair scraping loudly. "Yes?"

My father's expression was guarded, I couldn't predict what he was about to say. There was no clue hidden in my mother's countenance, either.

"Did you enter into an arrangement with Lord Leslie last night?"

My face turned a furious red, doing little to affirm my innocence. Rupert laughed under his breath.

"No, sir," I stuttered.

Father frowned, "People say you were in conversation most of the night. Some even suggest that you were holding hands, embracing."

"I — we are friends, Father. Alex and I were merely remembering childhood memories." It humiliated me that this conversation was happening in full view of my brothers. That it was happening at all.

Mother nodded, smiling. "We must be very aware of our behavior in public, Eilean. How we behave, and the way we interact with others. There are always people watching and waiting to draw conclusions."

I nodded hastily, the familiar buzz of nothingness bleeding through my mind at her all too familiar scolding. "Is there something wrong with my friendship with Alex?"

"Quite the opposite. In fact, we must do all we can to encourage it," Mother said. Her eyebrows arched with dainty perfection. "I think it is all of our wish that you might form an attachment with Lord Leslie."

It was a struggle to keep my jaw from going slack. I looked down at my brothers, all of them acting exceedingly interested in their food. Eager to halt further conversation and attention, I shook my head. "There is no agreement between myself and Alex."

"Very well," Father said with a nod. "But do not discourage it, Eilean. If the lord makes advances, allow it." He turned back to Mother, signaling my participation was no longer required.

Petrified, I willed myself back into my seat. It was like being in a daze. Nothing felt real or solid. It was nice, for once, to be shielded by my brothers' surrounding bulk. Ignored as they tried to make their way back to bawdy stories of the night before.

After a moment, with an annoyed huff, Ian stood. "There is something that must be addressed in relation to Eilean," he said, speaking emphatically.

The room fell silent again. The edges of my vision went black. What in the world could he possibly mean to discuss? I forced myself to count the stitches on the cuff of my sleeve. The ability to focus on anything at all but what was happening was my only salvation.

"What?" Father barked, annoyed at this irregular interruption. Only Mother and Father could address us at mealtimes.

"Her tutors must be fired immediately," Ian said, grim and serious. "She has no working knowledge what-so-ever of the Islands, her duty to them, and the lands contained within our confederation. She knows not the boundaries and demands of Stormway Castle."

"She has no tutors," Mother answered sharply, eyes blazing. "I have been the steward of her education."

"Then you are at fault for her ignorance."

I looked up, amazed at Ian's impertinence. No one scolded him.

"She has had the best education befitting her status," Mother said primly. There was no flash of annoyance — despite Ian's insolence.

"Nonsense. If she is to be a lady of good standing and breeding, there are critical gaps in her knowledge that we must patch. Outside of reading and basic figures, I wager she knows nothing more than how to thread a needle and set a pretty table."

It was incredible to see someone not only push on Mother but defend me, too. I was deeply touched. Warmth provoked by pride and affection, not embarrassment, spread through my body.

"Starting today, I will oversee her education." Ian declared.

There was a ripple of bored whispers as the topic became tiresome for everyone else. I couldn't remember a time before when I had ever been the subject of conversation for over ten seconds. Not even birthdays had been this indulgent. Slowly, the encroaching fog that liked to chew on my mind, retreated.

Walther, across the table, nearer to Mother and Father, snapped his fingers. "Yes!" He said, jumping up to stand. "As the daughter of Stormway, Eilean must be an example to all young ladies. I will also assist in her education."

It was an outright conspiracy. Ian and Walther exchanged knowing glances that I didn't understand. As it was working out in my benefit, I didn't question their motives. Walther's involvement was suspect. In my sixteen year's we had never even exchanged hellos.

Mother shifted in her chair. She tossed down her napkin on her plate. "I am raising my daughter to be a wife. I will not allow her to run wild and ruin her chances at making an acceptable match. You boys are far too...rowdy."

Walther, suddenly my champion, pressed again. "She's stupid, Mama, or close to it."

I glared at that, taking offense to the remark and the informality of the term "Mama". I would have never been allowed such freedom.

"A man wants an intelligent wife." Ian said, "Walther and I can make her so. I promise you will not find her wanting just because she understands the demands of the land upon which she lives."

"Fine," Father said, interjecting. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the issue. "Eilean will add two hours a day with each of you, on top of her regular lessons with her mother."

Walther and Ian bowed, graciously accepting the territory they had claimed. They sat back down.

Whirling to Ian, I growled, "Thanks to you, I now have more lessons."

"You should thank me, Eilean. I will save you from being a permanent idiot."

"Lovely, I'm sure you bring this care and consideration to your teaching as well."

Ian hummed and tried not to smile.

"And Walther? What of his involvement?"

Looking across the room, Ian studied our bother over my shoulder. His eyes darkened, and he swallowed. "Walther has his own motives."

I snorted, "I'm sure he does. And what are yours?"

Ian leveled his gaze at me, "Meet me after lunch and I will tell you."

~

That afternoon, I found my way to Ian's rooms. I had to stop and ask a servant where they were, but I arrived promptly after finishing lunch. He ushered me into his quarters when I knocked.

"Excellent," he said, looking me up and down, scowling as if my dress offended him. "Do you wear clothes that fancy every day?"

"Multiple times," I said, looking down at the mint green gown. "This is an afternoon dress, a different ensemble than what I wore this morning at breakfast and not at all the same thing I will wear at dinner."

"That seems, tedious."

I raised my eyebrows, agreeing. Ian himself was freshly scrubbed, his red hair dripped water onto his shoulders, soaking his high collar and waistcoat. The lingering scent of pine soap was heavy in the air.

"What do you do all day?" I asked, surprised by the mid-day bath.

"Not change clothes, that's for sure," he said teasingly, gesturing that I should come further into the room. "But I oversee the business of the town center where Stormway conducts all its trade. I also stay on top of any medical needs — I've been apprenticed to the physician for several years now."

"Oh," I said, surprised. "I had no idea."

"And there lies our chief problem," Ian shook his head. "The rest of your brothers are a bit more hands-on in their day-to-day duties, caring for the planting and the animals and all that. But I never took to those occupations."

I smiled, noting Ian's glasses, his studious, serious nature. "Of course."

"What did you do all day, Eilean?"

I tried to recall what had happened even in the last hour. My mind was blank. The perpetual smoke in my head offered me no answers. I had been sitting in a stuffy room...perhaps embroidery?

Reading my vacant expression, Ian tried a different route, "What have you been focused on in your work with Mama?"

Again, nothing. "The most important assignment given to me in the last six months was to make new seat covers for the breakfast room," I said. "Otherwise I...I don't know. Attend the daily masses with Mother and..."

Ian sighed.

"Honestly, Ian, I sit around all day and people talk at me. They do not solicit my opinion or expect that I might have one. I endure each minute until I can crawl into my bed at night and sleep."

"And do you? Have an opinion?" My brother challenged.

"I would hope so. I do not feel as if I am stupid, but I am given no opportunity to develop whatever talents I might have."

"Are you happy?"

It was such a strange question, so unexpected. I took a step back, rocking onto my heels. No one had ever asked me that. "No, of course not," I scoffed, respecting myself and my brother enough to offer the truth. "I am not permitted to do anything that would jeopardize my position as a future wife and mother. I am only to be good-natured and silent."

"Disgusting," Ian muttered. "I am sorry that I have neglected you for so long. I do not adhere to the theory that a woman's mind is inferior to a man's. I must bring you up to speed, and quickly. We will have to be most rigorous in your curriculum."

The prospect of being a student — a true student — made me feel tired. Though, a glimmer of challenge stirred in my breast. Surely I was smart enough to manage. I could rise to the occasion. But one thing still nagged at me.

"Why?" I asked, "why are you doing this now?"

Ian looked around the room as if haunted by some creeping spirit. It appeared as if he shuddered. "I do not think this Gathering is an innocent celebration of Islanders."

"No?"

"I have my suspicions that Father is up to something, I just don't know what. He has spent days in locked-door conversations with all the other Lairds, and his generals."

"That is...curious," I said, not sure of how to respond.

Ian ran his hands through his hair, "I just want you prepared for any eventuality. Even if that eventuality is being sold off to some fop of a Laird at the Standing."

I nodded, pretending as if I understood. "Of course." I moved from where I stood near the doorway and walked into his room. The furnishings were striking. The masculine touches of leather and dark colors made it different from my own chambers, though the size and shape were similar. He had books scattered everywhere, piled up on tables and chairs, and spread across the floor. The wood furniture was dark and looked more comfortable than the squishy, embroidered couches that filled my room.

"I thought you were going to show me a map," I said, taking the liberty to scour the walls for one.

"Do you want to start with geography?" Ian asked.

I looked at my brother, smiling, "I'll admit I am interested to know just how big Stormway is. Considering its direct effect on me, its mistress."

Ian grinned and laughed, "Good, you're proud. It shows that you aren't completely tame. Don't let anyone — least of all Mama — tell you you should be too humble. Timidity wins no one any favors....nothing tangible or useful, at least."

I made a mental note of that as my brother stalked off to a secretary and riffled through its drawers. Pulling a large scroll of heavy parchment from its depths, he brandished it at me with a gleam in his eye. "Take your fill, Miss Eilean MacLeod, Daughter of the Laird of Ellesmure, Ruler of Stormway."

I took the map and unrolled it. The document was large, wider than I could hold. Ian took one side and helped me hold it open. The jagged coastline and massive expanse of the Mainland dominated most of the map to the east. A few peninsulas jutted out here and there. The terrain was marked as verdant with rolling hills and bright green grasses. A massive forest consumed a large area in the middle of the continent. The biggest peninsula in the south was claw-shaped. Labeled "The Fist", I knew it was Alex's home. It was a massive territory — larger than any of the others. He owned what looked like more than half of the Mainland. It made my mouth dry.

Across a narrow slip of sea between The Fist was a long, crescent-moon shaped island that curled around the mainland, as if buffering it from the wider ocean beyond to the west. Past it, and sprinkled around it, were dozens of other islands, all small. Some in the north were a bit larger, but they all paled compared to the moon-shaped one. Grouped together, the small islands bore names familiar to me but never seen in context. I looked back at the large island, marveling at its size compared to the rest. At the top of the island, on the sloping crest of the arm that dipped toward the Mainland was a star. The marker identified Stormway Castle. The entire island was labeled Ellesmure, and the topography was varied from tip to tip. Fields and farms in the north, near the castle, and craggy mountains and harrowing cliffs down in the south. Ellesmure looked like it was eating The Fist. It made all the other islands around it look insignificant. My home sat on an Island that was more than half the length of the Mainland.

My jaw dropped, "You're joking," I said, looking up at Ian with wild disbelief.

Ian laughed, "This is no trick, sister."

Anger, instantaneous and hot, made my stomach rise up into my throat. I gripped the edge of the map so tightly that the parchment crumpled. "How dare they — " I breathed. Then, looking at Ian, I demanded more. "One or two hours a day is not enough. Fight for the ability to control my education outright. I no longer have any desire to be coddled by Mother."

"As you wish," Ian said with a low bow and a sinister smirk.

~

I spent the rest of the afternoon with Ian, making him answer every possible question I could conceive of related to Stormway and Ellesmure. By the time I slipped into my rooms, I knew more about my homeland than at any other time in my life. Exhausted, but invigorated, it surprised me to find Walther there. He was not waiting on a couch or chair, but digging through my wardrobe. Gowns were strewn on the floor and he had an especially old one of pale lilac satin thrown over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

Walther jumped and turned to face me. "Ah, darling sister," he cooed.

Hands on my hips, I shook my head, "We have never exchanged words before this moment and suddenly you're worried about the state of my education and digging through my dresses?"

Walther smiled like a cat. His wide mouth stretched over his gleaming teeth.

"Why?" I asked.

"I have a favor to ask, and I thought if I helped you get what you want from Ian then you might be more willing to assist me."

"What is it?" I made my way to a settee and fell onto it. It was bewildering to see him up close, I had ever only known Walther from a distance. He was softer around the edges than I had ever noticed. He had sad eyes and his shoulders, though broad, were stooped. There was a delicateness about him I had never detected as if he had been prone to sickness. He was tall and strong, like any MacLeod man, but his fingers were long and tapered and he kept his hair long. It curled and snarled like mine, though it was a mousy brown color. I remembered that he used to read fairy tales after dinner, and had taken up the piano for some time.

"I will not marry Miss Sterling," Walther said defiantly, lifting his chin and daring me to challenge him.

I would not. "The woman from the Standing?" I hadn't known her name, but Walther's nod confirmed my question.

"And how do you imagine you will get around that?"

"I bribed the priest to marry Bess and I in a secret ceremony."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, looking around the room and considering the mess of the gowns, I said, "And you need a wedding dress."

"Yes, and witnesses."

Oddly touched, the request to help in this adventure flattered me.

"You're the only person I can think of who doesn't have anyone to tell," Walther said, deflating my mood.

I crossed my arms, "I can't leave the castle. You might not know that, but Mother has forbidden it."

Walther waved his hands and rolled his eyes, "None of us can leave the castle. You're the only one stupid enough to believe it's a rule. Surrender all the details to me. But I need help with the dress." He looked at the silk and satin around him. There was nothing but overwhelmed confusion sketched across his face.

Letting out a sigh, I nodded. I reached across to the bell on my table and rung it.

"What are you doing," Walther said, horrified when the chambermaid entered my room.

"Can you tell Bess from the kitchens to join me in my rooms as soon as possible, please?" I asked.

The chambermaid looked from me to my brother and then pointedly at the scattered dresses before replying with a wary, yet polite, "Yes, miss." With a bob and a curtsy, she left the room.

"I don't think your secret is so secret, brother. Besides, I'm easily a foot and a half taller than Bess. We will have to make alterations. And shouldn't the bride get to choose her gown?"

A radiant smile broke out on my brother's face, "You're marvelous, you know that?"

"Pick up the gowns you so crudely threw on the floor," I said, standing up and heading to the wardrobe to help. Riffling through the options, I pulled a few other dresses from the heap and laid them on the couch next to the ones Walther had set aside. Soon, Bess joined us. She stood timidly in the doorway.

"Good evening, Bess," I said in what I hoped was a welcoming tone. "Please come in and shut the door. We have a surprise for you."

Bess exchanged an affectionate look with Walther but did as I asked. Once she stood between Walther and I, I offered her a smile.

"Evening, Mistress," she said quietly, returning the grin.

"I am afraid it's a little unorthodox, but I would like to provide you with a wedding gown. You're welcome to any dress that I have." I said.

The beautiful, bright-eyed kitchen maid went pink, spluttering her thanks. Tears glimmered in her dark eyes as she reached for Walther's hands. I smiled and stepped back, letting the two of them sort through the options while I busied myself with a book. After half an hour, when Bess had selected a simple but striking embroidered satin gown of deep, berry pink — as bright a color as the dressmaker would allow me to wear. I called in my lady's maid and had the gown fitted. We pinned the shoulders, hems, and bodice so it would fit the bride perfectly. My maid kept looking at me with a strange smirk as if it was incorrect for me to be privy to this life, her life. It was clear she did not disapprove, not if it made one of her friends so happy.

Later, after Bess had left, and the gown was removed for alterations, I sat with Walther in front of the fire. He brought out a pocket flask. With a wiggle of the container, he invited me to share in the drink.

"Why are you and Ian so interested in me suddenly?" I asked. "The truth this time, and not because you need a dress."

Walther shifted in his seat and took a long pull of the flask. "Ian...knows things. No, that's not right. Ian suspects things. My guess is he is acting on a hunch."

I snorted, signaling for him to pass the flask.

"I just needed the dress. Thank you, by the way, for being so kind and understanding."

"I saw how miserable you both looked at the Standing. It was terrible. And I thought...well, I hoped that if I ever looked that sad, someone would try to help me."

Walther smiled at me, looking a little guilty, "You've been sad for a long time, I think."

It was hard to meet his stare, the intensity of his understanding. I shook my head, attempting to ignore it. "As for Ian," I said, returning to that, "What do you mean he suspects things?"

"I'm not sure, but John and Father have been having a lot of hushed conversations throughout the Gathering. There seems to be some excitement afoot. I don't know what. Whatever Ian suspects, you can trust it, though. I've never known one of his hunches to be wrong."

"Is it something bad?"

"I don't know, but I do not think it was a coincidence Father invited Lord Leslie. He might be a mouthpiece for us, on the Mainland. As a close friend of the family and holder of the largest lands on the continent — "

"Has Alex been in those meetings?" I asked, stunned.

"Not to my knowledge."

I mulled over that, the new information I had about Stormway, its lands, and our relation to the Mainland. Nothing came to mind. "What are you going to do about Miss Sterling?" I asked, changing the subject, curious to know what would become of my brother's official fiancé. "Will you have two wives?"

Walther sighed and sunk into the couch. "No, though the practice is not unknown in the smaller islands. Some women have two husbands, did you know that?"

I smiled, "I did not. Sounds tiresome. Go on."

"Miss Sterling has her own man and she will marry him the same night I marry Bess. Then...I will tell everyone the truth."

"Aren't you worried?"

"I plan — have always planned — on resigning my inheritance," Walther admitted. The confession was like a sinking weight thrown into a deep pond.

"What?" I was dumbfounded.

"Bess has family on the Mainland, a good family with connections. They're more open-minded about who can marry whom over there. It won't be such a struggle for us."

"It seems you have it all worked out," I said, offering my brother a smile.

He grinned back, his eyes crinkling around the corners. "I do."

"Then I wish you every happiness." I meant it, hoping that someday I might know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of such affection.

~

The next morning, someone ripped the covers off of me while I slept. The rush of cold air startled me awake. I saw Ian standing beside my bed.

"Get up," he said, striding to the curtains. As he drew them open, I saw that darkness still persisted. There wasn't even a hint of rosy sunrise on the horizon.

"What the hell, Ian?"

"Get up, get dressed," he said staunchly. "I will meet you in the hall."

Confused, but too sleepy to do more than what I was told, I swiftly dressed and braided my hair back. When I exited my rooms and found him lounging against the wall, I asked again, "What is going on?"

"Your education starts now," he said with a lazy smile.

I had peeped at the clock in my room, "At four in the morning?"

"Never a better time. How much do you move?" He asked, once again frowning at my skirts.

"Move?"

"Walk, run, ride," he explained.

I yawned, "I don't."

"Exactly. It is time to fix that. We're going riding, now."

"I don't know how to ride," I objected, inadequacy coating me with slick shame.

"Then you will learn. But come on, time is wasting!" He then pivoted on his heel and rushed down the hall. Running. "Keep up!" He hollered over his shoulder, no doubt waking everyone else up in this wing of the castle.

Growling, I picked up my skirts and tried to follow him. My feet slapped against the floor as I chased him. The deserted emptiness in the castle still at sleep was strange. We were the only two people in the halls. It was eerie but comforting in its silence.

"Will you stop?" I asked, panting for breath as Ian bolted out the front door and into the open air.

"No!" He called, "you have to learn how to push yourself!" For all of Ian's bookish quiet, he was evidently quite the athlete. The pace he set was grueling, but my brother was not even breathing hard.

I kicked my feet against the hard-packed ground, digging for energy and strength I didn't have. Yet, surprisingly, my steps were light and my stride was long. I fell into a pattern, a rhythm that made sense — four strides per breath. Soon, I had caught up to my brother. A thrill of accompaniment I had never felt burst through me. When we arrived at the stables, I was sweating and panting, but exhilarated. Hands on my hips, I did my best to catch my breath. I marveled at being outside the castle walls for the first time in years.

"You're going to feel that tomorrow," Ian said, appraising me with a delighted smile. "Good job."

I could feel it already. The muscles in my legs tightened up, and I winced, but my new freedom soothed away any complaints. I wiped the sweat from my brow and used my skirts to fan my legs. "Will we be galloping first, too, or starting with a basic walk?" I asked, nodding toward the horses beyond.

"Fair sister, your lack of faith in my methods is harsh."

I scowled, "What does riding a horse have to do with my education?"

Ian looked at me intently, his face as hard as stone, "Riding is useful, riding is a requirement. I am teaching you how to survive, how to be self-reliant. Not passive, not convenient, not decorative. You must be hard, resilient, and smart." He punctuated each point with a jab to my shoulder.

The conversations I had yesterday with Ian and Walther simmered into my mind. Something was indeed happening — and my ability to sit a horse was crucial.

"Fine," I grunted.

"And you will not be riding side-saddle." Ian huffed as if the very notion was offensive to him.

I laughed, understanding, at last, why he was teaching me this particular skill so early in the morning. Mother would have his head if she knew. "Lead the way, then."

Ian and I strode into the barn.