Free The Border Lord's Bride by Bertrice Small Page B

wed her that same day had the priest been there; and he gave his promise not to follow us. We rode for half a day, and then another full day. That second night as the sun was setting Ellen MacArthur came into our camp. She was exhausted and frightened.
    She says she has killed Balgair MacArthur. He attempted to rape her; she protected herself and fled. She begged us to bring her back to your protection, my lord, and so I have. She is in the Lady Margaret‘s household now," Duncan Armstrong said.
    "The lass is worn out with her travels and her grief," Margaret Stewart said. "But she should not remain here, Jamie. She needs to be in a safe place. A place where she will be no cause for controversy between your troublesome lords. You will remember that the MacArthurs of Skye are greatly in the MacDonald‘s favor. I believe Ellen once told me that this Balgair is a son of the MacDonald‘s piper. The father will go to his master, and the master will call upon the king for justice—and for revenge."
    "What of the poor MacArthurs of Lochearn, and the MacNab lad, who were murdered?" the laird of Duffdour said. "Is there no justice for them?"
    "Nay," Margaret Stewart replied sanguinely. "Lochearn has no influence or power. It is a simple Highland holding. It is not right, but there is the truth of it."
    "The lass has had her revenge, and it is fair," the king said. "She took the life of the man who murdered her grandfather and betrothed husband. There is no disputing those facts. When the MacDonald sends to me with his own tale I must render some form of kingly justice to satisfy him and his piper. Mistress Ellen is not likely ever to be safe again at Lochearn. Since the MacArthurs of Skye coveted the holding, I will give it to them as a forfeit for their kinsman‘s life."
    "And the girl?" Margaret Stewart asked. "What is to become of Ellen MacArthur?"
    "As you have said, Aunt, she cannot remain here at court. This unimportant little lass could nonetheless prove a flash point for partisan squabbles. We must find a safe haven for her," the king said. And then his blue eyes grew bright, and he looked directly at the laird of Duffdour.
    "Take her home with you, Duncan," he said, and James Stewart grinned wickedly. "You have already made yourself the lass‘s champion. It is the perfect solution. And she will be safe. Would any at Lochearn remember the man who brought Mistress Ellen home? It‘s quite doubtful. Until the MacDonald sends to me, and I may settle this unfortunate matter, the lass can be hidden at Duffdour."
    "My lord, mine is a man‘s house. I have no women in it—not even servants, for I saw the trouble women servants brought to my brother before his marriage. I cannot take an innocent lass like Ellen MacArthur into my home. Her reputation must be considered. One day she will certainly wed, and what would any man think of a wife who spent time in another man‘s household alone?
    You must find another place for her."
    Margaret Stewart leaned over and murmured something in her nephew‘s ear.
    "You have a sister, my aunt informs me, who bears my aunt‘s name," the king said.
    "Maggie? She‘s a nun at the convent of St. Mary near Duffdour," the laird acknowledged. "They are an almost cloistered order, and I haven‘t seen her in years," he said. "Aye, you could put Mistress Ellen at St. Mary‘s, my lord. She would be quite safe."
    "Nay," the king replied. "I will send to the mother superior of this convent, asking her to release Sister Margaret in order that she may chaperone a young ward of mine who will be sheltering with the laird of Duffdour."
    "But wouldn‘t the convent be a better place for Mistress Ellen?" the laird protested nervously.
    What was he to do with the lass?
    "There is always the possibility that the MacDonald could learn where Ellen is, and you are in a far better position to protect the lass than is a convent of almost cloistered nuns," the king responded with a chuckle. "Nay, Duncan, I am