The Captive Heart

reaching out, stroked the dark head that now lay on her breasts. His hair was soft for a man's, she thought. Happiness overwhelmed her. She was loved, and she loved in return. This was the kind of passion her parents had felt for each other. That elusive something she had never believed she would be fortunate enough to attain, and especially after her brief marriage to Hayle Watteson. 'I love you, Colm,' she whispered to him, and then smiled when heard the tiny snore. He had fallen asleep. Alix drew the coverlet back over them and let herself sleep again.

From that moment on it became apparent to all within the keep that the laird had fallen in love and that he was loved in return.

'You see!' Fenella crowed to Iver.

'There's no marriage yet,' Iver replied, but he was actually as pleased as Fenella was. Still, he enjoyed teasing her. 'HI believe it for certain when he marries her.'

'He will!' Fenella responded.

'Who will?' asked Fiona, who had wandered into the hall. 'Who will what?'

' 'Tis not our place to say, small mistress,' Iver told the little girl.

'What do you want more than anything else in the whole wide world?' Fenella asked Fiona.

'Fenella!' the steward cautioned.

'A mother,' Fiona replied. Then her bright blue eyes grew wide. 'Oh, Fenella!'

'I've said naught,' Fenella spoke quickly. 'Just wait, my bairn. Be patient and wait. Who knows what will happen. You might have a new mam soon.'

'But I want Da to marry Alix!' Fiona told the housekeeper. 'Did the queen call him to court to give him a new wife? I will hate her! I want Alix for my mother!'

'Hush, child,' Fenella cautioned.

Fiona burst into tears. 'I w-w-want Alix for my mother!' she wailed. 'I don't want some stranger! I w-wa-want Alix!'

'Now you've done it,' Iver scolded the housekeeper.

'Alix! Alix!' Fiona howled, her small face red and wet with her tears.

Both the laird and Alix came into the hall at the same time. They ran to the little girl, and Malcolm Scott picked his daughter up in his arms to comfort her.

'Fiona, what is it?' he wanted to know.

'I want Alix!' Fiona sobbed.

'I am here, ma petite' Alix assured her, reaching up to wipe away the tears streaming down the child's face.

'I don't want a strange mother!' Fiona wept. 'I want Alix!'

'God's foot!' the laird swore. 'What is the bairn talking about?'

'I'm sorry, my lord, I may have spoken out of turn,' Fenella began.

'ALIX!' Fiona sobbed loudly as she held out her arms to the girl. 'I want Alix!'

'Give her to me, my lord,' Alix said, and took the weeping child from him.

'What the hell did you say to her?' Malcolm Scott demanded of Fenella.

Iver gave the housekeeper an I told you so look.

'Well, my lord, we were speaking on what Fiona desires more than anything else in the world,' Fenella began, attempting to explain the situation.

'I want Alix for my mother!' Fiona sniffled, now comforted by the warm arms holding her. 'I don't want some poxy woman from the queen's court. I want Alix!'

'Very well,' the laird said in an agreeable tone. 'You shall have her.'

Suddenly Fiona's tears ceased. A smile broke out upon her face. 'Really, Da? Really? I can have Alix for my mother?'

'If she will accept me for her husband,' Malcolm Scott said, a small smile upon his lips. 'It's actually all up to Alix, Fiona.'

Iver's mouth fell open. Fenella grinned triumphantly.

'Will you be my mother, Alix?' Fiona asked. 'Please!'

'If your father will ask me properly,' Alix said, 'I will give you both an answer.' Her heart was soaring with her joy. She had lost her family only to gain another one. And she was loved! Love by the laird and loved by this little girl in her arms.

'I thought I had asked you,' the laird said, his gray eyes twinkling.

'Not properly,' Alix replied mischievously.

The Laird of Dunglais knelt before her, and taking a hand in his, said, 'Alix Margot Givet, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?'

Alix tilted her head first to one side and then the other. 'Hm-mmm,' she pondered as if seriously considering the matter.

'Say yes!' Fiona whispered excitedly in her ear. 'Say yes!'

'Do you really think I should?' Alix teased the child.

Fiona nodded her head vigorously.

'Very well, my lord,' Alix told him, and the smile she gave was for him alone. 'I will gladly be your wife and mother to this wonderful little girl.'

'Hoo Ray!' Fiona cheered. 'I have gotten my birthday present early.'

Alix set her down upon the floor. 'Do you feel better now?' she asked.

'Aye!' Fiona responded. 'Can I call you Mama now?'

Alix felt tears pricking at her eyelids. She nodded. 'Aye, my Fiona. You may call me Mama if that is all right with your da.' She looked to him.

He nodded, smiling.

'A Christmas wedding!' Fenella said. 'We'll have to start planning right away, for tomorrow is the first of December. We must send to Drumcairn to your uncle. He will be so pleased. And my lady must have a new gown in which to be married.'

Afterwards as they sat in the kitchens Iver said to Fenella, 'Well, you escaped the wrath you deserved. I knew he was bedding her, but I didn't think he'd marry again.'

'I told you he would,' Fenella said. 'It isn't natural for a man to live without a wife. Just because the Ramsay was the wrong woman didn't mean the right one wasn't out there, Iver. The lady is perfect for him. She'll never betray him like the other did.'

The priest was called for, and he came from the laird's village of Dunglais, which was nearby. His name was Father Donald, and he was a man in his middle years. Learning that the laird wanted to wed Alix, the priest posed several questions. 'You are both free to wed, my children?' he asked them.

'I am widowed,' Alix responded. 'My late husband is dead, God assoil him.'

'And I am free, as my first wife's bones were found out on the moor,' the laird said quietly.

'You both wish to have children?' Father Donald asked Alix, his mild brown eyes searching her lovely face. He had been at Dunglais for twelve years and had known the beauteous but high-strong Robena Ramsay.

'Aye!' Alix said without hesitation, causing the priest to smile.

'And you, my lord?'

'Aye,' the laird said, looking at the object of his desire. 'Son or daughter, it matters not to me. But our home should be filled with the laughter of children, and Fiona should have siblings. Family is most important to me.'

'There is one thing, Good Father,' Alix said. 'My late husband's father wanted to wed me, and sent to York for a dispensation. I thought this desire unnatural and against church teachings. I fled his home. I am told he obtained that dispensation.'

The priest looked troubled. Then he said, 'That is England. This is Scotland. No dispensation can make clean that which is unclean, my daughter. I believe Bishop Kennedy at St. Andrew's would agree with me. I will marry you. You have but to name the day,' the priest told them. 'I am pleased, my lord, that you have decided to take this step. Your uncle at Drumcairn has been most worried. Have you sent to him yet?'

'We but awaited your blessing, Good Father,' the laird said.

Father Donald chuckled. 'No matter what I might have said, my lord, you would have found a way to make your union with this young woman a legal one. I shall draw up the marriage contract for you in the next few days.'