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Chapter 1
England, 1386
Maira Douglas swore to never eavesdrop again after what she’d just heard.
Standing in the shadows of the great hall of Castle Rothbury, Maira listened to her father, Rowen of Whitehaven, talking to her guardian, Lord Walter Beaufort of Rothbury, Earl of Northumberland. Having heard her name mentioned at the wedding of her cousin, Willow, she wandered over to learn more.
“Your daughter is twenty years of age now,” the earl told Rowen. “I have mentored her as well as your nieces for many years, as you know.”
“Aye, Earl. And I am ever so grateful. However, remember, it was by the king’s dying wish that you do so,” Maira’s father reminded the man.
“I’m sure King Edward never meant for the girls to stay with me this long!”
Rowen took a swig of ale from his tankard and slowly nodded. “Fia and Willow are no longer under your guardianship, so I can only imagine you want to be relieved of your commitment where my daughter, Maira, and my niece, Morag, are concerned.”
“It’s not that, Whitehaven,” grumbled the earl, not sounding at all convincing.
“It’s just that I have been summoned to King Richard’s side and will be leaving on the morrow to campaign for him in France. I am not sure when I’ll return.”
“Then I’ll take the girls with me, back to Whitehaven,” offered Rowen.
“Nay. Face it, Rowen. You need to betroth your daughter. No man is going to want a woman well in her prime to bear his heirs. Especially with the way that one acts like a man!”
“Prime?” Maira whispered to herself. “I’m not that old! And I do not act like a man.”
“Maira, I heard what the earl and yer faither said.” Her meddlesome cousin, Morag, appeared right behind her. The girl seemed to be everywhere and always had her nose in everyone’s business. “Ye ken he’s right. Ye need to marry like Fia and Willow. Ye are next in line.”
“I don’t want to marry. Ever.” Maira ran her hand over the hilt of her dagger hanging from her belt. Her skill with weapons was better than a lot of the new recruits for squires. She was proud of it. “I want to be a warrior, just like my father.”
“Maira, come here,” her father called out, nodding toward her.
She didn’t want to go to him, but had no choice. This wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.
“Aye, Father?” She faked a smile. “Are you enjoying Willow’s wedding celebration?”
Rowen looked over to his two brothers, Rook and Reed who were arm wrestling each other with a crowd of people looking over their shoulders. The wedding celebration had lasted almost a sennight now. The two brothers had once again drunk too much and were trying to outdo each other in any way possible.
“I’m sure I’m not enjoying the celebration as much as those two fools.” Rowen shook his head, scoffing at them. Out of the triplet brothers, Rowen had always been the voice of reason. Each of the men had a personality of their own. “Rook, Reed, stop causing a scene,” he called out.
“No’ until I show the fool that Scots are stronger than Sassenachs,” Reed shouted back. He was the redhead of the three and lived in Scotland, always talking, dressing and acting like a Scot since the boys had grown up in Scotland being raised by Ross Douglas.
“Maira, I have something to tell you,” said Rowen, looking as nervous as Maira felt.
“What is it, Father?”
“Ye ken what it is,” said Morag, pushing her way into the conversation. “He’s betrothin’ ye, just like we heard him say.”
“You were eavesdropping.” Rowen flashed Maira a disappointed look.
“Mayhap I was, but now I wish I hadn’t. Father, I don’t want to be betrothed to anyone,” Maira told him, never afraid to stand up for what she believed.
“The earl is leaving to campaign in France for Richard.”
“Then can’t I come home with you?” asked Maira hopefully. “I miss Mother and haven’t seen her in quite some time.”
“And, mayhap, I can go home to Scotland,” added Morag excitedly.
Rowen and the earl exchanged glances. Then Rowen cleared his throat and continued. “Maira, I’ve already made plans for you. The earl believes it would be beneficial for me to make an alliance with the High Sheriff of Durham.”
