The Snow White Bride Read Free Page A

Kinfairlie’s peasants, as was traditional, despite the dearth of coins in his treasury. He might as well enjoy the festivities himself. It might be the last merry Christmas at Kinfairlie. Alexander slammed the ledgers of his abode with a vengeance, then dropped them back into the trunk where they were stored. He savored their resounding thump, then dropped the lid on the trunk so that it slammed. He locked it and only just stopped himself from hurling the key out the window into the snow, which had not ceased falling for an entire day.
    Indeed, he had lifted his fist when his castellan’s discreet cough halted his gesture.
    Alexander pivoted smoothly, slid the key into his purse, and smiled at Anthony as if that man had not interrupted a healthy impulse. “Good evening, Anthony. I trust all is well in the hall?”
    Anthony surveyed the chamber, his white brows bris tl ing in disapproval. “Well enough, my lord. Might I conclude that you have balanced Kinfairlie’s accounts for the year?”
    “You might,” Alexander said with a cheer he had not felt in considerable time. “But you would be in error.”
    Anthony scowled. “Your father would never have left his chamber until his labor was done.”
    “My father is dead, and though his habits were exemplary, they will not necessarily be mine.” Alexander swept past the older man and sniffed appreciatively. “Venison! What a marvel you are, Anthony.”
    “The miller felled two bucks, supposedly by accident, my lord.” Anthony frowned more deeply. “There is certainly more to the tale than what we were told, for all know that common people have no right to hunt deer, and it is difficult to mistake a deer for anything other than what it is. I would suggest that we delve to the bottom of the tale lest all think they can hunt without repercussions … ”
    “I suggest that we en joy the meat and the season and leave the matter be,” Alexander said with resolve.
    “But…”
    “But they are hungry, Anthony. The harvest has been poor and most gardens have not prospered, either. It is to their merit that they share the spoil with all.”
    The older man straightened with disapproval. “Your father would never have allowed such a tran sgression against his rights… ”
    “Nor would he have allowed those beneath his hand to starve.” Alexander softened his tone and laid a hand upon the older man’s shoulder. “This year has been most uncommon, Anthony, and I will not punish my guests for ensuring that the board groans this night. Christmas is a season of celebration and forgiveness. Let us welcome the year with hope.”
    Anthony took a deep breath, but Alexander did not want to argue about his breach of convention again. Instead of choosing a select few peasants from Kinfairlie village to feast in the laird’s hall, Alexander had invited them all. The population of the village had dwindled in the past year due to the poor conditions and he wanted every man, woman, and child to share in whatever largesse he could offer. They had been arriving steadily since morning mass, bringing their napkins and their spoons and undoubtedly their appetites. Many had brought the chickens and candles they owed to the laird for this feast.
    Alexander had given his villagers what he could—he had ensured that they had justice, he had tried to supply seed for the fields, and no matter what it cost, he would see their bellies filled this night.
    It was Christmas. Let Anthony say what he might.
    Alexander’s brother-in-law Rhys FitzHenry and sister Madeline had arrived the day before and, at Alexander’s request, Rhys had ridden to hunt with two of Kinfairlie’s falcons and the men in his party. He had returned with four dozen rabbits.
    Five baskets of eels had been collected at Inverfyre by Alexander’s sister Vivienne and her husband, Erik Sinclair, on their journey south to Kinfairlie, and Vivienne had brought half-a-dozen goats heavy with milk to swell the ranks of livestock at