Highland Belle (2 page)

Yes, Richard answered. Father was in France on King Henrys business and married Mother —

Without the kings permission, Brigette interrupted.

Percy smiled, thinking the children were molded from the father, who had obviously been willful himself.

But the king was forgiving of his favorite fourth cousin, Richard continued, and so here we are.

Three years ago Father was killed by poachers and we became wards of the queen, Brigette said. I suppose you also have poachers and such in Scotland?

In the Highlands, Percy told them, one clan raids another — for fun and profit, ye might say.

Fun! Brigette recalled Heathers dire words and trembled.

Thats why Iain remained in Scotland. Percy glanced at Brigette. Murdac Menzies has been raidin MacArthur territory. Black Jack was called to Edinburgh and needed Iain to supervise Dunridges defenses. Spring, summer, and autumn are our raidin seasons.

Then Highlanders do kill for pleasure? Brigette was unable to bite back the question.

Percy looked at her sharply, but his voice was gentle when he spoke. Nae sane mon kills for pleasure, lass, nor does he cause pain where there need be none. I hope ye willna be holdin Iains absence against him.

Brigette squirmed in her saddle, then blurted out, Why didnt you remain at Dunridge instead of Iain?

I think we should return now, or yell be late for yer own weddin, Percy suggested, ignoring her question. Percy was not about to admit to his future sister-in-law that his father and brother considered him a happy-go-lucky blockhead and refused to place Dunridges defenses in his hands.

Afternoon raced toward dusk, and the shadows in the earls study lengthened. Sir Henry, Percy, and Father Dowd stood in front of the hearth and chatted while Richard and Heather paced the chamber like caged animals. Occasionally, Sir Henrys eyes drifted to the dowager countess, whose own eyes drifted anxiously to the door. Brigette was late for the ceremony that would bind her to Iain MacArthur.

Humph! Madame Devereux thought. It was not the kind of wedding an earls daughter should have. Curse Iain MacArthur! And while the Lord was at it, He might as well damn the queen, whod made the unlikely match in the first place and insisted the marriage take place immediately.

Since the marriage was by proxy, the dowager countess had dispensed with all the fanfare, including the chapel service. Brigette was a faithful Catholic, but shed already been humiliated by the grooms absence. The countess knew her daughters pride could bear no more insult.

Where is she? Richard snarled, annoyed to be kept waiting.

Its the brides prerogative to be late, Percy said, glancing at the pacing boy.

My God! Heather cried, with a horrified expression. She stepped away from the door and Brigette entered, making six mouths drop in amazement.

The bride was dressed in black, one of her mothers mourning gowns having been appropriated. Her copper hair was parted in the middle, pulled back severely into a tight knot at the nape of her neck and covered with a black veil. She might be forced to wed the ignorant Scotsman, but all would know she went unwillingly into that blissful state of matrimony.

Brigette paused inside the doorway for effect. Her flashing green eyes were alive with defiance, challenging all to censor her attire.

Brigette Edwina Devereux! the countess shrieked, scandalized.

Shall I appear the radiant bride for an absent groom?

Richard stepped forward, intending to order his sister back upstairs, but Percy placed a restraining hand on his arm. It was better to let the lass vent her anger before she met her husband. Iain was a good man, but unlikely to be amused by his brides antics.

Surveying Brigettes attire from head to toe, Percy crossed the chamber. His shoulders trembled with the effort to hold back his laughter. His eyes met hers; she was ready to do battle. Sobering, Percy offered his hand and an encouraging smile. Brigette hesitated, surprised by his lack of anger, and then placed her hand in his. They walked across the chamber to Father Dowd.

The old priest looked Brigette up and down as if shed suddenly turned purple. He shook his head and silently thanked the Lord for his vow of celibacy. The ceremony began.

When the moment came to speak her vows, Brigette hesitated, unable to find her voice through her constricting throat. She glanced at her mother, whose expression was stern, and then at Sir Henry, who looked away in embarrassment. She cleared her throat. As Brigette whispered the words binding her to Iain MacArthur, a feeling of helplessness descended upon her. Now she was at the heathens mercy!

The final words were spoken. Sir Henry led Percy and Brigette to the desk across the chamber to sign the necessary documents. In the name of the queen, Sir Henry signed first, then passed the quill to Percy, who signed with a flourish in the name of Iain MacArthur. Brigette stared dumbly at the quill when Percy held it out to her.

The dowager countess opened her mouth to scold, but Percy placed the quill in Brigettes hand and gestured to the marriage documents. Accepting her fate, Brigette signed with a bold flourish. She was Lady MacArthur now, for better or worse.

The dowager countess instantly grabbed her daughters arm and steered her toward the door, saying, Im certain youll want to change your lovely gown before supper, my dear.

Reading the warning in her mothers eyes, Brigette nodded and left. As she crossed the foyer, a peal of masculine laughter rang out, Percys tight control having broken.

2

Almost magically, the mist had disappeared under the cover of darkness. Each person milling around the courtyard noted the change and hoped Basildon Castle would see the suns rays that day. Since before dawn, the Scots had been preparing for their departure, but now most lounged about, awaiting Lady MacArthur.

Wearing a grim expression, Spring entered and crossed the courtyard. Shes not in her chamber, she told the countess. Percy and Madame Devereux exchanged worried glances.

If shes run, Richard snarled, Ill flay her alive.

Humph! Heather snorted derisively. Bries too much of a coward to . . . Here she is. Dressed for traveling in a dark woolen safeguard and cloak, Brigette entered the courtyard from the castles chapel and smiled apologetically.

They thought youd run! Heather exclaimed. I told them —

I was bidding farewell to Father.

The countesss expression softened and she opened her arms to her daughter. Like a bereft child, Brigette flung herself into her mothers embrace. She closed her eyes, felt the warmth of her mothers love, and knew nothing would be the same after that day. When Brigette left Basildon, she would be leaving her childhood behind.

Im afraid, Brigette whispered.

Her mother tilted her chin up and smiled sadly. Theres nothing to fear, sweet. If Lord Percy is any indication, your husband is a good man. Will you promise me something, Brie?

Brigette nodded. Yes . . . anything.

You are impulsive at times, she said. Before you do or say anything, remember you are an earls daughter. Can you do that for me?

Yes, I promise.

The countess kissed Brigette, then held her close. Say good-bye to your brother and sister, she whispered finally.

Brigette turned to Heather. Weeping, the sisters flew into each others arms.

Im sorry I frightened you, Heather sobbed. Im certain Lord MacArthur doesnt kill for pleasure.

And Im sorry I insulted you, Brigette returned. I like your freckles. Youll write? Heather nodded, and they hugged each other a final time.

Brigette looked at her brother. His lips quivered with the effort not to cry. Farewell, my Lord Earl, she said and curtsyed.

In a most undignified manner, the young lord threw himself into his sisters arms and nearly toppled her over in his distress. Ill miss you, Brie.

Learn your lessons well, Richard, Brigette said, hugging him close, and youll grow into as fine a man as Father.

I will, Richard promised, then glanced sidelong at Percy. If you need me, he whispered, send word.

Brigette stood and kissed Sir Henry on each cheek. I will also miss you, my lord. Youve been like a father these past years, and I thank you for caring.

Be happy, Brie.

Brigette nodded, then turned to Percy. Im ready.

Percy helped her mount, then mounted his own stallion. Brigette saw the Scotsman Jamie lift Spring onto her horse and was glad her cousin was traveling with her. At least she would have one friend in her husbands home.

Percy shouted a command. Surrounded by her husbands men-at-arms, Lady MacArthur began her long journey to Scotland. They rode in silence at a leisurely pace, and Brigette studied the countryside, consigning it to her memory. It would be a long, long time before shed see her homeland again.

The morning progressed and as the sky gradually lightened, so, too, did Brigettes mood. Why must I suffer with an ignorant husband? she thought. Because the queen commanded it? Bah! If living with the heathen proves intolerable, Ill run away!

Approving of her newfound confidence, the sun broke free of its confining cloud cover. Brigette, feeling the excitement of high adventure, giggled with youthful joy and spurred her horse forward. Racing against an invisible opponent, she galloped ahead of her escort. Cursing, Percy bolted after her.

Glancing back, Brigette saw Percy gaining on her. She spurred her horse faster, but his stallion was too potent for her gelding. Percy shouted for Brigette to stop, but she ignored him. He reached over and yanked the reins from her hands, forcing the gelding to slow and then stop.

Dinna be ridin ahead wiout givin fair warnin, Percy scolded. Its dangerous!

The sun is shining and its grand being alive! Brigette exclaimed, undaunted by his sternness. Her joy was contagious, and in spite of himself, Percy smiled. Glancing back at their approaching entourage, she added, I do not approve of the way your man Jamie has been eyeing Spring.

I hadna noticed her complainin, Percy said. I did notice, however, yer changin the subject.

How very astute of you!

Seriously, he added, ye canna take off like that whenever ye wish. Its impossible to protect ye and there could be highwaymen lurkin aboot.

Oh. Brigette nudged her horse closer to his and looked around, half expecting to be attacked.

Percy, she asked suddenly, why did Lord Iain seek an English bride?

Twas Black Jacks idea. Politics, Im supposin.

Politics?

Why did yer queen match ye wi a Scotsman?

Probably so thered be one less papist in England to worry about, Brigette replied drily.

As I said, politics.

Each passing mile saw Brigettes mood and derriere chafed by the endless ride. By dusk, her excitement had vanished. They stopped for the night at St. Albans, a town overlooking the Ver River.

They halted in front of the Red Lion Inn where they were expected, one of the MacArthur men having ridden ahead to make arrangements. Too fatigued even to dismount, Brigette swayed precariously in her saddle.

Puir lassie, Percy clucked. He lifted and carried Brigette into the inns common room. The innkeeper, a short and stocky man, led him immediately to Brigettes chamber. An equally suffering Spring followed behind.

No! Brigette cried, realizing Percy meant to set her down on the bed. Ill eat standing and sleep on my stomach.

Hiding his amusement, Percy turned to Spring. Jamie will be back wi supper. Be ready to leave at dawn.

The door closed, and fully clothed, Brigette lay facedown on the bed. Forget my supper, cuz. Im too weary to chew. The last word was barely out of her mouth and Brigette was asleep.

After five days in the saddle, Brigette and Spring were still sore, but suffering less. Theyd traveled north, passing through Leicester, Derby, Sheffield, and the medieval town of York.

York was the end of civilization as Brigette knew it. At night, Spring and she slept on uncomfortable cots in a tent raised by the MacArthur men. Unbelievable as it was to the Englishwomen, the hearty Scotsmen wrapped themselves in their black and green plaids and slept comfortably enough on the ground.

Commiserating about their calloused buttocks and debating whether the sun would ever be seen again, Brigette and Spring rode together, surrounded by the MacArthur men. Glancing away from her cousin, Brigette was stunned by the sight just ahead.

Look! she cried, pointing a finger.

On the horizon was a carpet of purple heather. Breathtaking mountains, painted a vibrant green by their blanket of trees, rose majestically in the distance.

Alarmed by Brigettes cry, the MacArthur men drew their swords. Realizing there was no danger, Percy ordered the men to sheath their weapons, then reined in beside the two women.

Your Highlands are beautiful! Brigette exclaimed.

Highlands? Percy was confused.

Look there, Percy. The Highlands!

Och, lass! Weve just left England behind. Percy dissolved into laughter and was joined by his men. Its the Cheviot Hills, Brie, no the Highlands. Its part of the borderlands — Bothwells country.

Bothwell?

The Earl of Bothwell, he told her. Unfortunately, we willna be enjoyin Jamie Hepburns renowned hospitality. Hes a guest of yer queen, in the Tower, but accordin to rumor, hell soon be freed.

Whatever did he do to be imprisoned in the Tower?

Do? Percy shrugged his shoulders. Nothin, as far as I know.

Then why —

Yer queen doesna need a reason, Percy interrupted. Its as I said before — politics.

Oh.

Ive sent a mon ahead to tell the earls men that well be passin through, he added. I dinna want them attackin us.

Attack? Spring cried, alarmed.

Percy glanced at his sister-in-laws tirewoman. The earls moss troopers are fierce.

And border raidin maintains their battle readiness, spoke Jamie, who had reined in beside Spring. Dinna worry aboot them, lass. Ill protect ye wi my life. Spring smiled radiantly at him, and over her head, Jamie cast Percy a meaningful look.

Lets ride ahead, Percy suggested, turning to Brigette. If yer interested, Ill tell ye a bit of Scotlands history.