“I’m sorry. You were nothing more than a name, a woman with a title everyone was keen to win. Now that I see you—you—I would do anything to protect you. Don’t you see? We were destined to rule together. How else can you explain those strange visions? The Lord saw fit to show us our destiny.”
Once again, the Lord. “But what is the nature of your relationship with Thorfinn of Orkney?”
“He is like a brother to me. I would never raise a hand against him, no matter what I promised Malcolm.”
Macbeth had lied to Malcolm in order to make his escape.
There was a knock on the door. “My lady?”
It was Banquo.
A confused look crossed Macbeth’s face. He crossed the room and opened the door. “Banquo? What is it?”
Banquo looked equally caught off guard. “Lady Gruoch’s belongings,” he said, motioning to the men behind him.
“Come,” Macbeth said, motioning to servants and pulling on a cheerful mask. “Let’s leave those matters behind,” he whispered to me. “There is a deer roasting in the hall. The cases of wine are ready. It’s a merry return. Let’s celebrate,” Macbeth said, smiling from Banquo to me, clasping us both on the shoulders. “Here I am with my future bride and one of my dearest friends. What a lucky man I am. I’ll see to my devotions then meet you both in the feasting hall this evening?”
Yes, let’s celebrate my husband’s murder. Sounds festive. Masking my feelings, I nodded.
“At last, I am home. Tonight, we’ll rejoice. I’ll see you in your finest, Thane of Lochaber.”
“Aye, my lord,” Banquo replied.
“My lady,” Macbeth said, taking my hand and laying a courtly kiss thereon.
I forced myself to smile.
With that, Macbeth left. Banquo and I were alone once more.
“Do you need anything? Are you all right here?” he asked.
“As well as I can be. Seems my embroidery and spinning are waiting for me,” I said, motioning to the spinning wheel and baskets of cloth and thread.
Banquo chuckled. “I suppose you’re not quite what he was expecting.”
“To say the least.”
Banquo smiled. “I should go clean up. We’ve been on the road for weeks. Maybe even shave this beard.”
“I don’t know. I like it,” I said with a smile, reaching out to touch his face. It had been meant as a playful gesture, but the sensation that filled me from head to toe when I touched him rattled me.
Banquo set his hand on mine and pressed my hand against his cheek, leaning into my touch. “Cerridwen,” he whispered, soaking in the moment. But then he let go.
I pulled my hand back slowly.
This was going to be impossible.
Banquo shook his head, and without another word, he turned and left.
I set Lulach down to sleep in the beautifully carved cradle beside the bed then went out on the terrace. It was cold and windy outside. A swirl of snowflakes drifting off the roof of the castle spun around me. The cold wind stung my body. I gripped the stone railing, the ice and snow crunching under my hands. I closed my eyes and felt the wind. I could hear the waves on the icy river as the water tripped over the rocks. I gritted my teeth hard and tried to let the cold seep into me, hoping it would freeze the terrible pain racking my heart.
Chapter 9
With Ute’s help, I slipped into one of my better gowns, a beautiful red frock with delicate embroidery all along the neck, and got ready to go to the feasting hall.
“My lady, if you took a wet nurse, it would ease your burden. Our little lord will be looking for you in a couple of hours,” Ute suggested.
The thought of leaving another of my children to a wet nurse made my stomach turn. An image of Crearwy flashed through my mind. My heart broke at the thought that another woman was mothering her. “No. I’ll make do. Just send for me when he’s ready.”
Ute smiled softly. “Very well.”
My mind distracted by thoughts of Crearwy, I headed toward the hall. How was my baby girl? Was she well? Were she and May still getting along all right? Once I’d had some chance to rest and recover, I’d have to send a casting.
When I reached the door of the feasting hall, I heard the sound of rowdy voices inside. I sighed heavily. What kind of hall would Macbeth keep? Like Allister, wild and vulgar? Like Gillacoemgain, quiet and utilitarian? Or like Fife, sweet and festive? In truth, I didn’t even want to know. I didn’t want any of this. My raven-haired man was on the other side of the door, but I didn’t even care. I had dreamed of a life with Banquo, but that hadn’t been possible. Instead, that dream had been replaced by my happy life with Gillacoemgain. Now, all I wanted was my dead husband. And since I could not have him, all I really wanted to do was leave.
But there was nowhere to run.
“So, have you decided?” a voice asked from behind me.
I turned to find Banquo standing there. He was freshly washed and neatly dressed, his beard trimmed but not shaved.
“Decided?”
“Whether or not to go in.”
“And what about you? You’re still standing here.”
“Ah, but I had a reason.”
“And that was?”
“I was thinking about the daughter of Boite.”
Banquo came and stood behind me. We both stared at the feasting hall doors.
“The daughter of Boite,” I repeated.
“You should have told me,” he whispered in my ear.
“I swore to keep my identity secret.”
“If you had told me, I would have convinced you to abandon the courtly world. And I would have done the same. We could have carried on in our faith, priest and priestess.”
“Are you blaming me?” I asked, my voice sounding harsher than I had meant it to. I turned and looked at him.
“No. I am only regretting,” he said, and I could see from the expression on his face that he was telling the truth.
I sighed. “Yet here we are.”
“Yes. Here we are.”
Banquo extended his arm to me.
Without another word, we turned—the Thane of Lochaber and the daughter of Boite—and entered the hall.
* * *
By the time dinner was done, I had grown weary of my own name. “Lady Gruoch” this and “My Lady of Moray” that. It seemed silly to become tired of people trying to please you, trying to make you happy, but that was how I felt. I was in no mood to meet Macbeth’s loyal servants. Each Lord this or Thane that who presented himself to me had me wondering which one had set the fire that had killed Gillacoemgain. Which one of these men had burned my husband alive? I knew I should try to open myself to my future, but I could not. All I wanted to do was go back upstairs and hold Lulach.
As I looked around the room, I saw very few familiar faces. Only a couple of the lords who’d served under Gillacoemgain had come for Macbeth’s return feast. Had he not extended his hand to the others in peace? Did he not think to make amends with those who had been loyal to Moray? Only Banquo, who sat on my side, felt like someone to trust. Everyone else eyed me like a curiosity. Boite’s daughter. Wife of the defeated Gillacoemgain of Moray.
“How do you find the meal, Gruoch? Is it to your liking?” Macbeth, who was sitting beside me, asked. He eyed my plate. I had tried to eat, but my appetite was low. Macbeth had been trying, unsuccessfully, to make small talk with me all night. I had no patience for worthless conversation.
I lifted my goblet and motioned to the crowd of strangers. “In the coming weeks, it would be wise to reach out to Gillacoemgain’s supporters and seek peace,” I said. “You have your own people here, but you must unite Moray and the entire north behind you.”