Once Upon a Plaid by Mia Marlowe Read Free Book Online

the courage to go on in her marriage, if just once, William had wept with her.
    She gave herself a brisk inward shake. That was a selfish thought. “An heir is important to William, even if he denies it. Did ye mark that scepter Will gave Nab to use while he’s Laird of Misrule?”
    “Aye, ’tis a thing of beauty and of no small value. I wonder that he trusts it to the fool.”
    “He gave it up because he knows as long as he’s wed to me, he’ll have no son to hand it on to.” Katherine curled her fingers into fists. “Time out of mind, that scepter has passed through an unbroken line of Douglas fathers and sons. I canna bear to let the lineage die with William.”
    “What does Will say about it?”
    “What can he say? Each time he learns I lost another, he simply wants to try again.” Katherine stood and walked to the window. The sun had disappeared behind a cloudbank. The world of sparkling white was suddenly marked with cold, grey shadows advancing on the snowdrifts in the bailey. “Oh, Margie, I canna hope any longer. It hurts too much.”
    Margaret came and put an arm around Kat’s shoulders. “If there was no sorrow, we’d never know joy. Ye must hope, Katherine. Even if it hurts to hope. Life has a way of evening things out. The sorrow ye feel now will make a future joy shine all the brighter.”
    Katherine laid her head on her good-sister’s shoulder. “How did ye become so wise?”
    “’Tis all the extra sweetmeats I’ve been eating, no doubt. Come. Let’s see if my wee heathens have left any bannocks and clotted cream for the rest of us.” Margie shuffled to the head of the stairs leading down to the great hall. “Failing that, I’ve a strong craving for one of those gooseberry tarts.”
     
     
    Katherine didn’t see William for the rest of the day, which struck her as odd since there were only so many places in Glengarry where a man might betake himself. He wasn’t in the great hall with the other revelers who’d been tossing knucklebones and wagering loudly. He wasn’t pacing the ramparts of the castle walls. Even without looking, she was certain William wasn’t in the chapel.
    He had little use for the Church, even on high holidays.
    Finally, as the sun started its western slide to the horizon, she visited the stable on the pretext of checking on a mare that was in foal. What she really wanted to see was whether her husband’s mount was still there. Wee Angus dogged her steps, snuffling at her heels and leaping through the snow to keep up with her.
    Once they cleared the stable doorway, the terrier darted after a rat and disappeared, only his stubby tail was visible above the loose straw. Katherine wandered down the line of stalls alone.
    Relief washed over her when Greyfellow, William’s dappled gelding, whickered to her over one of the gates. She was more than a little ashamed of being glad her husband was still in the castle. It would be better for both of them if he were gone.
    “There’s a fine boy.” She reached over to stroke the horse’s soft nose. Then she dug into her pocket for the apple core she’d brought for him and offered it to the gelding on a flattened palm. Greyfellow’s lips brushed her skin as he took the gift. “I’m glad to see ye, but he really ought to go home.”
    “Who ought to go home?” William came up behind her, carrying the gelding’s saddle.
    It seemed rude to tell him he should leave to his face. After all, it was Christmastide and he was still her husband.
    “My cousin Ranulf MacNaught,” she said quickly. “He’s been terrifying Nab something fierce.”
    “Still?” William opened the stall and settled the saddle on the gelding’s back. “I thought he led the charge to see the fool crowned Laird of Misrule.”
    “Aye, it was his idea. But I suspect it was only so he could taunt Nab more easily. I think Ranulf has repented of putting him into a place of power, however ridiculous it might be.”
    Will bent to cinch Greyfellow’s