Wicked Passions (Highland Menage # 2) - Nicola Davidson Page 0,1
she’d seen couples who were tender. Who accepted and supported each other fully, and scampered away to a bedchamber to indulge their lusts whenever they could. Saints alive, she’d even witnessed a trio who did this, so marriages could be exceedingly successful even when unconventional. Bah. In this so-called enlightened time, why did noble daughters still have to be pawns in the careless games of powerful men?
Why could she not decide her own destiny?
Her stomach roiling with hurt and anger, Isla glanced around the presence chamber, searching for a friendly face to bolster her spirits. She certainly wouldn’t get that from her family; her older brothers and sisters, and their spouses, had stayed away claiming they were too mortified by her conduct to come to court. In truth she wished her mother and father had abandoned her also, for then she wouldn’t be subjected to their icy wrath each day.
In this second painful defeat, she was truly alone.
Isla forced herself to respond. “I will obey my king and wed as you wish.”
“Good,” said James with a faint smile. “Then I say—”
“Your Grace!”
All heads turned to see Lady Janet barrel her way through the crowd and curtsy. The bold redhead was perhaps the most infamous woman in Scotland, once the king’s longtime mistress, still his beloved friend. Only she would dare to interrupt a royal decree.
James raised an imperious eyebrow. “Something to say, Jannie?”
She grinned. “Always, my king. I wonder if Lady Isla has had sufficient opportunity to meet men of suitable rank and fortune. I am a firm advocate for marital joy; and as the whole realm knows you to be a gallant, perhaps you might grant a wild but loyal subject the boon of an occasion here at court to form an attachment.”
Occasion.
The word turned over in Isla’s mind. What she indeed required was time, and a far better selection of potential husbands than the rotten weasels on offer in this chamber.
A grand feast? No. Too short.
Accompanying the king and queen on a royal progress? No. Too costly.
A tourney?
Isla’s heart leaped. Such an event would bring together many men. Strong, salt of the earth warriors who might even admire her gift with a sword. In that group, surely at least one with a good and faithful heart. And skilled at bedsport…
She took a deep breath. “Your Grace, I humbly suggest a tourney.”
Gasps echoed around the presence chamber. The stares of the courtiers grew even more disapproving. Yet Lady Janet winked and the king looked…interested.
“A tourney?” he mused as he adjusted his heavy purple mantle. “Go on.”
“If it pleases you,” Isla said slowly. “Send word to the four corners of Scotland that a great royal tourney is to be held. All who enter must be of suitable rank, with a squire to assist. The prize would be…my hand in marriage and all that entails.”
Silence greeted her announcement, surely the longest in history. But with her entire future at stake, she forced her gaze to remain on the king.
Eventually, James nodded. “I know my queen would enjoy such a spectacle. And there are many in my realm who would value the chance to win the hand of such a fair maiden.”
Isla nearly snorted. The king was a gallant, but she held no illusions over her charms or lack thereof. Unlike her mother and sisters, all flaxen-haired, buxom beauties, she had her sire’s pitch-black curly hair and moss-green eyes. She was neither tall nor short, with narrow hips, coltish limbs, and breasts barely big enough to fill a bodice. Yet as she well knew, her looks were by the by. It was money and an alliance that mattered, and the last Sutherland heiress would tempt even a reluctant suitor.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said politely.
James stood and clapped his hands together. “Let it be known…a week hence, Stirling shall host a grand tourney open to all unwed men ranked knight, lord, or laird. There’ll be five events, determined by me. The victor wins Lady Isla as his wife, and shall receive her dowry, the friendship of the Sutherland clan, and a gift of cloth from the royal household. I look forward to an event celebrating the best of Scotland. That is all.”
Isla curtsied again, near-giddy with anticipation. While it would take a miracle for a handsome, honorable man to enter a tourney without knowing the events, and be skilled at them all, and have good fortune throughout, at least she now had a sliver of hope for a happy future.
Far, far better