Elspeth turned in a swirl of her wool skirts, her eyes bright with temper. She should have been born with red hair, not the blond locks covering her head. At least men knew not to toy with a redhead. Her blond hair invited moments like these from her brother. He thought her meek and mild like the color of her hair.
“And ye know what a French boy slut is used for, Sister, so do nae pretend ye are so delicate and unable to stomach this conversation.”
Elspeth propped her hands on her hips.
“I am nae a slut, Dunmore. My body is pure.”
Dunmore lifted one finger and pointed at her. “Which is why ye are worth something more than our money will get for ye. We are talking about Laird Monroe. A man of his wealth and importance will nae have what any other man has tasted. He can demand a noble-blooded bride.”
She tossed her head again, lifting her chin in defiance.
“Let him. I have not ignored passion’s call so that ye can decide who shall pay my whore price. The man wants to come and dally on the green grass of spring before collecting his dowry fortune that comes with a blue-blooded wife. He’ll use me to prove his seed is good and then toss some words of how much he values ye out before riding back to his castle.”
Dunmore cast a quick glance behind them to make sure her voice wasn’t drawing curious eyes. That only made her madder. He closed the distance between them and hooked her arm with one hand. She was slender, but not petite by any means. Elspeth dug her heels in, refusing to be moved so simply. Her brother would know that she meant it when she said no.
“He had two children with his last wife, so his seed is nae doubted. Don’t be hating the man for something he is nae intent on doing. I am talking about getting ye a husband far above any that ye might have aspired to with the meager dowry yer clan can afford.”
“No man comes to see a lass like me without thinking he’s going to be getting all of me. Our clan is nae powerful enough to make him worry about offending us if he leaves me with his bastard.”
Dunmore let her go, his face full of frustration. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then what shall ye have, Brother? Naught but another mouth to fill.”
“Ye are nothing like the other girls he has wed. Their noble blood was thin, but yers is strong, Elspeth, and no Leask woman is considered stained for bringing a new life into this world. If ye have a child, it will be a member of this clan. Conceived during a handfasting.”
Elspeth felt her eyes go wide. “That is an old custom and ye know the church frowns on it. We’ll both end in the stocks if Father Simon Peter hears even one word about handfasting. Even England is once more a Catholic nation with Mary Tudor sitting on the throne. Keep talking about handfasting and even being laird will not save ye from being shamed by the church for it.”
“Handfasting is a Scottish custom and one that has been honored by our ancestors.” Her brother’s face clouded with pride. “We’re Scots, not English, and handfasting is Scottish. It does not diminish our faith. The church makes changes to suit its needs, like saying that nuns and priests can’t marry, in order to keep all their land and money. But there was a time that they did wed and they were still devoted to God. Chastity is about keeping money in hand, and I propose a handfasting between you and Monroe to gain ye a better husband than I can get ye with coin alone.”
Elspeth began to pace. She’d always known the day would come when her brother returned from some clan with an offer of marriage for her. She snorted. At least she had assumed it would be marriage. She had spent her time dreading that she might wed an old man when she should have been fretting over being offered up like a tart just because the man was laird of one of the most powerful clans in Scotland.
But Hayden Monroe was powerful, so much so she felt her throat tightening as if there were a noose around it. There would be plenty of her own kin who would eagerly dress her up in the finest dress she owned and present her to him. Never mind that her honor would be forfeit. Even if her brother spoke the truth about the changes in the church, it did not change the times they were living in. She’d be judged by the priest sitting up at the church in his dark robes.
“I’ve not remained pure to whore it away, Dunmore. ’Twas something I was saving for the man who would respect me for it.”
Dunmore lowered his voice. “Monroe does value yer purity. The man has his pick of all the daughters in Scotland, and he is riding here to meet ye.”
“Because ye promised him that I would spread my thighs for him.”
Dunmore frowned at her but Elspeth glared back at him.
“What I promised him was that ye are no meek lass, and ye are not, Elspeth. Ye have steel in yer spine and courage the same as any Leask man. But if ye want the greatest reward, ye shall have to be willing to earn it.”
“I never thought to marry above where I was born.” She didn’t care for how meek her words sounded. The church would approve but her pride didn’t.
“Fine, Elspeth, if ye have outgrown yer boldness, so be it. Simply tell the man to go back to his land. That ye will not have him. I’ll find ye someone else to wed.”
“That would be rude since ye have invited him here.”
She closed her lips because her brother shrugged in response to her argument. Men. They were so foreign to women. She often wondered just what God had been thinking to create it so that they needed each other to produce children.
“Remember, Elspeth, William Wallace didna do what those that came before him did. He employed new ideas and strategies and defeated the English because of his modern thinking.”
“We are not talking about battle here, Brother. Besides, I wouldn’t be the first woman to ripen with a bastard and be denied a wedding. What of my child? It is not an easy thing to be called bastard.”
“Monroe will wed the mother of his child. The man is still wearing a beard in mourning for his family.”
That shocked her. Since the man had invited his neighbors over to negotiate for a bride, she would have expected him to shave and move on.
What sort of a man longed for a woman and daughter that fate had stolen from him? A son she might understand, but now she felt a tender stirring inside her chest. Maybe the man didn’t want to get married any more than she did, but was being pressured by his kin. That was something she understood.
Dunmore shrugged. “Besides, I did nae promise him ye’d handfast.”
“Ye did nae? In truth, Dunmore?” That tender emotion stirred again, this time stronger. Could it be that the man wanted to meet her and discover if there was anything between them? Now that would be too much to hope for. It would mean he was not ruled by lust for coin and land.
Dunmore cuffed her gently beneath the chin. “I told him that ye are wild and proud of yer purity.”
Elspeth snorted at him. “Now yer back to praising me for holding tightly onto my virginity. What happened to yer suggestion of handfasting?”
“Be who ye are and meet the man. If he does nae please ye, I’ll negotiate a contract with the Setons. There’s a second son in that clan I think would have ye with what ye come with.” He held up his hand to still her next comment. “But Monroe is still coming here to meet ye, so ye can hide above stairs if ye’re too worried about not being able to remain a maiden just because ye’ve been in the same room with him.”
Elspeth frowned at him, but her brother clearly thought his plan a sound one. She battled against the urge to feel defeated but it was becoming harder, especially when she noticed her brother’s men peeking around the edge of the wall to see how she was taking the news.
Oh, fie upon it.
With her own mother gone, there was no woman with enough position to force her brother to see reason.
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