“Why did we stop here?” she asked, watching as her family climbed up a steep path to Tearmunn’s gates.
“Outside travelers must enter on foot,” Alistair said. “The carriage must remain here until it’s inspected.”
“Inspected for what?” she asked.
“I can’t say until you’re one of us,” he said, offering his arm. “But that will be soon enough.”
“I hope so,” she said, lightly grasping his elbow.
Alistair cast a sidelong glance at her as they started up the path. “I’ve done all I can.”
“And for that I’m indebted to you,” she said. “But my father—”
“Your father will find his influence is far less here than amongst the nobles,” he said.
Ember didn’t answer. Her long skirts made the climb tricky. The fabric near her feet was quickly darkened by mud. She imagined that Agnes and her mother must be going mad at the indignation of trekking through the muck. She didn’t want to imagine what her father’s reaction would be.
She wasn’t at all surprised to find him awaiting Alistair as they passed through Tearmunn’s gates, his face a thundercloud.
“What sort of barbarians are your people?” He shook his fist in Alistair’s face. “I came here in good faith to fulfill my debt and this is the way I’m treated.”
Alistair bowed before Edmund. “My apologies, Lord Morrow. I realize the climb was inconvenient, but all visitors must enter the keep on foot.”
“Ridiculous!”
“Just arrived and already raging?” A rotund man, whose squat face was capped by carrot-red hair striped with silver, strode toward Edmund, arms outstretched.
“There he is!” Edmund’s sour mood vanished as he embraced the other man. “You old rascal, it’s good to see you.”
“And you, Lord Morrow,” the red-haired man said.
Edmund drew his wife forward. “My lady Morrow, let me introduce to you Lord Mackenzie.”
Ember’s mother curtsied. “My lord.”
Mackenzie grabbed the startled woman and noisily kissed her cheeks. “Fine woman indeed. Welcome to the wild north.”
Ossia spluttered, her face flaming.
Ember waited for her father to erupt into curses, but he roared with laughter. “Never change, do you?”
Mackenzie shrugged. “Why would I?” He surveyed Agnes and Ember like they were prize cattle. “Who else have you brought for me to kiss?”
Edmund laughed again. “My daughters, Agnes and Ember.”
Ember stopped holding her breath when Mackenzie didn’t make good on his kissing pronouncement, but she guessed she wasn’t nearly as relieved as Agnes, who was clinging to the sleeve of their mother’s dress.
“Fine lasses.” Mackenzie raised a brow. “Not married?”
“My elder daughter, Agnes, is betrothed to the Count of La Marche.” Edmund beamed while Agnes blushed and clasped the brooch on her cloak.
“And this one?” Mackenzie’s gaze fell on Ember. “The auburn-headed girl?”
Ember knew better than to speak, but she desperately wanted to give this uninvited spectator a lashing with her tongue.
“Ember is the reason we’ve been called here,” Edmund said. “I owe a debt to Conatus.”
“Don’t we all,” Mackenzie said. “Have no fear, my friend. It’s likely they’ll train the girl as a healer and keep her nearby.”
His voice dropped to a wheedling note as he glanced at Ember once more. “My son Gavin is in need of a wife.”
“Is he now?” Though it came out as a question, Ember was certain that her father was already well aware that Mackenzie had a bachelor son. She wondered if Gavin had found time to grow a belly as large as his father’s.
“After the ceremony we’ll talk,” Mackenzie said, smacking Edmund on the shoulder. “Our holdings are close enough to Tearmunn that your Ember could serve Conatus and a husband.”
Ember wanted to scream. This plot would undermine all her hopes for what coming to Tearmunn could mean. Agnes was smiling at her encouragingly and Ember was working so hard to keep her temper in check that she jumped when Alistair’s voice was suddenly in her ear.
“I’ll steal you away before that can happen,” he whispered.
Her anger died in a giggle. “My savior.”
“Of course,” he said. “Would you expect anything less?”
She shook her head, now happy to ignore her father and Mackenzie as they lamented things like taxes and English encroachment.
“Besides,” Alistair went on, “it won’t come to that. Haven’t I promised?”
“I know,” she said, but despite Alistair’s confidence, she had a hard time believing he could hold as much sway over her fate as he boasted. He’d only arrived at Conatus in the previous year.
Alistair raised his voice so everyone could hear him. “Pardon the interruption, my lords, but I’m to escort Lord Morrow and his family to their quarters.”
Mackenzie nodded. “Of course. We’ll speak again soon, Morrow.”
“Indeed we shall.” Her father fell into step alongside her as Alistair led them through the courtyard.
“Perhaps we’ll find a suitable home for you in this debacle after all.” He smiled at her, but Ember saw only the calculations of his mind and no thought for her happiness in the expression.
“Yes, Father,” she said, knowing that any argument would earn her a cuff from her father’s hand and a disapproving gaze from her mother.
As Lord Morrow began to recite the desirable traits of the Mackenzie clan and the wealth of their landholdings, Ember let her gaze wander around the keep. The thick outer walls enclosed a broad courtyard bustling with activity. They passed the stables first, the sharp, sweet scents of hay and grain filling the air. She pinched her nose as they walked by the tannery, but her eyes were drawn in fascination to the mysterious glow and shock of sparks from the smithy. It was almost as large as the stables, and Ember was startled to see women among the well-muscled, leather-aproned blacksmiths.
Following her gaze, Edmund snorted. “Bloody Amazons. We must get you away from this place as soon as a marriage can be arranged. I’m a man of my word and I’ve brought you here as promised, but I won’t have Conatus twisting your mind. Religious orders have a strange way about them.”