On a warm spring day full of sunshine and the hum of bees, Alex and I worked intently in the office, a place that had quickly become Alex's preferred working location and my own. A hub of activity that buzzed from sun up to sun down. We had taken up the task of organizing my father's records; putting old ledgers, bills, deeds, and contracts into chronological order. Or any kind of order. Generously, my father's record keeping was little more than drawers stuffed full of mismatched loose papers. Since his departure, I had tried to exist in the chaos he left behind to little success.
Near the hearth, Wallis played with blocks. She laughed every time she built them in a tower that rivaled her own height before crashing into them and scattering the blocks across the floor. Earlier, Alex had scribbled the letters of the alphabet on the blocks and spent some time trying to teach her the order, but Wallis had easily grown tired of that. The construction and destruction of her towers were far more entertaining. After an exceptionally loud screech, where Wallis had flown through her blocks and then slammed into an overstuffed leather chair, Alex and I looked up. After ensuring the girl was alright, we shared a laugh, enjoying her amusement. The excitement broke our spell of quiet work.
"This is a mess," Alex said, throwing down a stack of papers and running his hands through his hair. He shook his head at the boxes of loose letters he had been rummaging through.
"Everyone has their own system," I said in a singsong, trying to be gracious.
"I wouldn't call this a system," Alex grumbled.
I leaned back in my chair, tossing the account book I was reading onto the desk. It snapped shut mid-flight and scattered a pile of receipts as it landed. "I guess I was afraid to change anything because..." I scoffed at the way tears sprang to my eyes. A small, childish part of me, hurt and scared, trembling in my bones.
I looked up at Alex, rolling my eyes, trying to push away the emotion. "Because I thought moving anything or changing anything would jinx them? Prevent them from ever coming back?" Clearing my throat, I got a rein on my feelings.
Alex smiled wistfully, "Everyone has their own system, even for moving on," he said, parroting back my words. He passed me his handkerchief over the desk.
I used it to dab my eyes, laughing at my superstitions.
"Have you heard anything at all? Angus said he was getting better inroads at the front."
"No," I shook my head. "We know they're alive because other people are still getting letters and they reference my family members, but I've not heard from anyone."
I paused, trying to remember the last time Bess had mentioned an influx of letters. The sweethearts and family members of the servants were far more loyal than my kin.
"Or, we were getting letters. There hasn't been an update since the flurry of messages that arrived explaining the army was going to move on the capital."
I turned and looked at the map of the Mainland pinned to the wall beside the desk. It hung beside a large, expansive study of all the Islands; both commandeered from Ian's rooms. With the display of land and ocean before me, I could pretend to understand the cause and effect of this war.
"My advisors haven't sent word, either," Alex said as the sound of his shuffling resumed.
I stared at the map a moment longer, my eyes snagging on the huge, dense forest the dominated the eastern-most edge of the continent. The Blackwood. An unsettled, mostly unmapped wilderness. It was an ominous smear across the topography. With a shake of my head, I turned back to my work.
Pulling open a yet-checked drawer, I rummaged through the documents inside. I came across a scrap of paper with Mother's handwriting on it. The letters were looping and elegant across the smooth, expensive paper. An order for the milliners:
3 yards of black silk ribbon
10 spools of cotton thread, white
4 yards of white trimming lace
My fingers floated across the page as if I could summon her presence through the fading ink. The indent of the words into the thick paper brought back the sound of her swishing skirts and the smell of her lavender perfume. I could almost feel her in the room, her presence sharp and cold. Undoubtedly, if she were here, she'd scold me for slouching, for daring to sit in my father's chair. Wearing my hair down, my sleeves rolled up and my skirts hitched up over my knees so I could feel the cool breeze. Inside the vision, I felt small. There was a bit of longing, though; as confusing an impression as any. To still desire the approval of someone so distant, so harsh. I held my father responsible for most of my pain, but my mother had earned her fair share of culpability. That even she could not spare time enough to send me a note or two felt inexcusable. However, I was beyond wishing for recompense. I crumpled the paper in my fist and tossed it over Alex's and Wallis's heads and into the fire.
"What was that?" Alex asked, looking up.
"Trash," I said.
Wallis danced and clapped as the paper burst into bright flames and disintegrated into ash.
Alex considered me, his head tilted sideways. I tossed back his handkerchief, and he folded it up, placed it back in his pocket. Sensing the question building in his eyes, in the pucker of his lips, I shook my head.
"I'm fine."
He squinted, the ghost of a smile twitching at the side of his mouth. With a nod, he went back to his work.
I watched him, noting how the sunlight gilded his curls and made his eyelashes glow. A brightness bloomed in my chest. A feeling of contentment and sudden happiness. It warmed me as if I had knocked back a swallow of whiskey — from throat to belly.
"Alisss, Wally hungry," Wallis said, walking over to Alex and tugging on his jacket.
I laughed, "Oh, 'Alice', that's lovely," I cooed, enjoying the nickname.
Alex turned to the girl, immediately attending to Wallis. "I'm afraid we don't have any food up here. Do you want me to take you down to the kitchens for a treat?"
"No," Wallis pouted, "Wally find mommy."
"I'll take her," I said, standing up and walking around the desk. A walk around the castle and a reprise from my family's memory were more than welcome.
"Do you want to hold my hand, honey?" I asked, holding out my arm.
Wallis declined, insisting that I carry her. Obligingly, I picked her up, lifting her up and over my head so that she sat atop my shoulders. Wallis gripped my hair, pulling against the strands roughly. I instructed her to hold on to my hands instead, lifting my arms to accommodate.
Alex's laughter at the surely undignified and wild picture of Wallis and me, her mount, chased away the lingering wisps of my mother's phantom disapproval.
"I'll be back," I said to Alex, walking out of the study, careful of ducking through the doorway.
Bess was in the kitchen, her cheeks rosy with the exertion of preparing lunch. I deposited Wallis and fixed her a plate. Bess prepared a tray of tea, biscuits, fruit, and cheese for me to take back to the study. I carried the food through the castle, and to my surprise, ran into Calum as he strode through the front entrance as I passed through the foyer.
Beating the dust from his cloak, he said, "You there, can you find the lady of the house? Tell her Calum McKerran has returned."
"Very funny," I said, settling the tray into the crook of my waist. I smiled, enjoying the thrill of a returned friend.
Calum blinked and stumbled back, pretending I shocked him. "Oh my! It is you! I leave for a little while and come back to find you've taken up the role of a kitchen wench."
"Well, as I believe I told you before, we all help here." I laughed and shifted the tray to my other side.
"Absolutely scandalous, Laird MacLeod," Calum said with affected horror. He walked forward and took the tray from my hands without preface.
Using my father's title for me nearly made me stumble. True, Calum had joked in his letter calling me "lairdess", but no one had ever addressed me as Laird MacLeod. It was electrifying. I felt dizzy with unexpected joy. Such a feeling could go to one's head, so I reminded Calum, "Please, just call me Eilean."
He grinned as if knowing precisely what effect the title had. He bade me to continue toward my destination and fell into step beside me. Studying the contents of the tray, he said, "What's this? Tea, biscuits, fruit... even butter! And cream! Has a miracle occurred? Have you learned how to create food from stones?"
"Alex, that is, Lord Leslie arrived with an extensive stockpile of goods."
Calum whistled his surprise. "I see. You are looking much better. Less sickly... and starved, if I may be so bold."
Rather than take offense at his frank appraisal, I shrugged. "Yes, and I may even have new dresses soon. Since you've been gone, Stormway has soared toward such heights of luxury."
Among his many treasures, Alex had brought bolts of fabric. In the little free time I possessed, I had been sewing a new wardrobe.
Eyes flashing, Calum leaned in close, "So I get to meet him? At last? The man for which Laird Eilean MacLeod considered worthy of crossing oceans and continents? Can it be?"
I understood his insinuation and blushed. I smoothed my hands down my bodice and said as casually as I could, "You are carrying his tea tray."
"Excellent! I hope he lives up to expectations." Calum offered me a sly wink. "Whatever happened to him? What secret realms of the universe did he slip into while I searched high and low for him?"
I snorted, "Stranded on one of the smaller, deserted islands during a storm. He thought leaving The Fist without sending word would be a delightful surprise."
"Oh, so he has a flair for the dramatic," Calum laughed.
I had never thought so, but I snickered all the same. "No one could rival you, but men are prone to their theatrics from time to time. How were your travels?"
"Oh, full of frosty nights and campfires and seedy taverns. Noting of note."
We neared the study and Calum walked faster, elbowing his way in front of me.
"What are you doing?" I whispered.
"I want to see if he's worth it."
"Worth what?"
"I told you, being sent on an epic voyage to find out whether Lord Leslie was in good health."
"That's not what you were doing."
"Isn't it?" Calum grinned, his black eyes wide. The crinkled skin around his temples deepened with his smile. Shushing me, he leaned over the tray and peered around the corner of the open door.
"A blond?" He whispered over his shoulder, scandalized.
"You're being ridiculous." I crossed my arms.
"Maybe," He said, clearing his throat and barging into the study. I was hot on his heels.
"Hello!" Calum exclaimed, causing Alex to jump up from his work.
"Alex, Calum. Calum, Alex," I said hastily, gesturing from one man to the other as I tried to shuffle around Calum.
"I always forget our lady does not stand on ceremony," Calum said with a conspiratorial wink at Alex, setting down the tray. He bowed, "Calum McKerran."
"Alex," My friend said easily, reaching out for a handshake.
Calum took the offered hand and laughed, "Well, now I know where she gets it." He bowed again over their clasped hands before walking across the room and carrying a chair over toward the desk.
I noticed a flash of gold and saw that he had acquired a new leg, one made of expertly carved wood in a motif of waves and mountains; highlighted by gold leafing and with bands of silver filigree. An exquisite work of craftsmanship and artistry.
"New leg?" I asked.
"Is she always this rude?" Calum inquired, looking at Alex, fostering a lifetime of familiarity in one question.
Alex blinked a few times, taking him in.
"You didn't tell me he was so chatty," Calum said, looking at me and grinning. "And yes. His lordship," he gestured at Alex, "has excellent artisans in his territory. When I saw this carver's work, I couldn't help but offer a commission."
Alex scanned Calum, something like amusement and surprise taking root in his features. He grinned, "High Lord of the Mountain Vistas?"
Calum laughed, and I bit my lip.
"If she told you that was my title, she played a very cruel joke on you. Just Calum will do."
"And I'm the one who doesn't stand on ceremony," I grumbled.
Both of them turned to me, beaming. Then they shared a knowing glance, and I had the woozy sensation that I had done myself no favors in introducing them to each other.
"Did you just arrive?" Alex asked Calum.
"Only just, I had hoped to be more presentable for our introduction, but our lady is a ruthless taskmaster. I was scarcely out of the saddle and she had enlisted me in delivering your refreshments."
Alex laughed, placing his work to the side and reaching for a pear.
"You took the tray from me," I interjected.
Calum looked at the ceiling as if debating the accuracy of my statement.
"You're impossible," I grumbled.
He gave me a sympathetic smirk.
"What's the news from the front?" Alex asked.
"The war rages on. The Island forces attacked the capital at last... I'd say about a month ago? When I sailed from the Mainland, the battle was still ongoing. Last I heard, the Mainlanders had pushed the Islanders back and there was an all-out assault happening near the Blackwoods."
"Were you able to get your men out?" I asked, a curl of terror licking through me. My toes and fingers went cold.
"No," Calum hung his head, his shoulders curved inward. "The Northern forces are entangled in this mess for the time being."
I covered my heart with my hand, breathing out a sigh. "Oh, I am sorry, Calum. I am especially sorry your men have to fight for something you do not believe in."
"To pull them out would risk further conflict... I worry about the retaliation against my people, my land. My hands are tied."
Alex looked at Calum with a furrowed brow. "You are against the war, then?"
Calum nodded.
Alex reached over, clapping the other man on the shoulder. "If you can get word to your men, any men in the Islander forces, tell them that The Fist will take them. I left instructions that my land should remain open as a haven. They will protect and shelter anyone. From either side."
"Thank you," Calum rasped, a rare view into his pain and suffering showing under the perfectly curated exterior of cool, collected confidence.
I fixed Calum a cup of tea, heavily sugaring the brew. He took it and drained the cup in one gulp. "Thank you," he said, clearing his throat. After a moment, he was grinning. The reassured mask slipped back over his troubled eyes.
"So what are you two up to in this hidey hole?" Calum asked, flinging off his cloak and crossing a leg over his knee. Entrenching himself. He slipped a heavy bag off his shoulders.
"Organizing," I said, sorting through the plate of biscuits until I found my favorite ones shaped like an eight-pointed star.
"Ghastly," Calum said, shivering. Alex laughed.
"Look what I found, Eilean," Alex said, holding up a card of thick, creamy paper — beautifully embossed with swirling calligraphy. "It is an announcement for a Standing. Walther's, if I remember the date correctly."
I bit into my biscuit and grimaced, "Burn it," I covered my mouth as I spoke, "or use the back for scrap paper. We don't need it."
"Beyond her general disuse of formality, Eilean is not taken to sentimentality either," Alex explained to Calum.
They both chuckled. I scoffed, even if their teasing amused me. It felt homey, familiar.
"You still hold Standings?" Calum asked, eyebrows high. "When was the last one?"
"Three years ago? The spring before the war." I popped another cookie in my mouth.
Alex hummed, confirming this, and studied the front and back of the card. He was turning something over in his mind.
I observed him, having always enjoyed watching him think. Feeling his stare, I looked up, noting Calum's wink as he regarded me watching Alex.
"Shouldn't there be another Standing, soon?" Alex asked.
I scowled at him, "Whatever for? You know I hate the damn thing. I thought you did too — "
"Oh, I do," he interjected. "But a few of my men and Calum's too," he jerked his head to the other man, "have taken an interest in your ladies. I think they would like to get married."
I didn't miss the slight, eager rise of Alex's eyebrows or the slow-spreading smile across Calum's face. Was this what Alex had wanted to discuss when he mentioned the Standing on that rainy, cozy night?
"What? So soon?" I was incredulous. "Men have only been at Stormway for a few months!"
"When you know you know, I guess," Calum said playfully, flicking his hand between Alex and me.
The gesture was suggestive, and I hoped I was the only one who had noticed.
"So let them get married," I said hotly, doing my best to avoid Calum's eyes. "Who cares if there's a Standing or not?"
"Customs matter," Alex said with a shrug.
"Not this one."
"Well," Alex tilted his head, trying another tactic, "you can't deny that laws matter. The Standing is the law of the Islands. Marriages without one are forfeit."
That couldn't be true. That meant Walther and Bess' marriage was illegal. Never mind what I had done to make it right in appearances. That meant Wallis was unprotected as their heir — Stormway's heir.
Calum cleared his throat, "If I may correct one piece of information. The Standing is not law across all the Islands. Only Ellesmure and two smaller southern islands still observe the practice."
"What?" I said, rounding on him. "You don't have the Standing at Istimere?"
"Not for... oh, seventy years or so," Calum answered.
The air punched out of me, the knowledge hitting me so forcefully that I struggled to breathe. The memory of all the horrible things I had witnessed in the name of the Standing. Women crying, frantic suitors begging anyone in the crowd for a single copper to outbid a man with a bigger purse. The tears, the anger, the humiliation, the depravity. Rage, unbridled and bubbling, churned in my gut.
"Then I will change the law," I said. My voice was low, dangerous.
Calum smiled, Alex's eyes shone like the sun.
"Ellesmure will no longer auction off our womenfolk to the highest bidder. If two people want to get married, let nothing stop them, so long as the parties agree. I dare say the only people opposed are off on a distant battlefield. They chose their war, let me wage my own."
Similar to the effect of hearing myself called "Laird MacLeod" I tingled at this newfound decisiveness. The power I felt in being able to change something so fundamental.
"Any couple already married outside of a Standing will have their union legitimized in the eyes of the law," I added. Protecting Bess. Protecting Wallis.
"Bravo! Cheers to the radical Laird MacLeod," Calum said, toasting me with a biscuit.
Alex nodded, radiance shining from his approving smile. "Draft a decree and send it out to all the inhabitants of Ellesmure."
I beamed. I had buckled under the weight of the Standing my entire life. Suddenly, it was gone. The lightness that accompanied my words was hard to describe.
"We'll save on expenses, too." I mused. Standings were public events, and Stormway had always paid for the large feasts and ceremonies that accompanied them.
"Spoken like a true miser," Alex said, shaking his head. He laughed and passed me the announcement he still held in his hands. "Write your decree on the back of this."
Taking the card, I picked up a pen. Settling into my chair, I wrote out the stipulations of my plan. The nib sank into the thick paper, the indentation of my words feeling permanent and powerful. A legacy worthy of leaving behind. Not only for me but for all the women of Ellesmure.
When I finished, Alex and Calum both read over the draft, fine-tuning some language. I approved most of their choices, but not all, and deemed the decree complete.
"Shall we celebrate?" I asked, placing the proclamation in the box set aside for Angus' secretaries. They would copy and distribute the order tomorrow.
"Let's tell Cook to make some of that lovely honey cake that she saves for only the most special occasions," Alex suggested.
"But I was going to have her make that for my birthday!" I protested.
"Your birthday is weeks away. She can make it again."
"It's hard not to feel like your birthday pales in comparison to abolishing a barbaric practice." I agreed, ringing the bell for a servant to come take our request.
"In the meantime, we have this," Calum said, pulling a heavy bottle from his dusty travel bag. A shiny green glass bottle of wine. "Fresh from his lordship's cellars," He said, indicating Alex. Uncorking it, he poured the wine into our cups. The aroma was fragrant and exotic.
"To Laird MacLeod," Calum said with a wink.
"Yes, cheers to me," I laughed at my audacity and thoroughly enjoyed it.