My Cursed Highlander (9 page)

She bid her maids farewell and realized those she would miss most were servants and guards within the walls of the palace.

"You do not have to go with him." Angelo was suddenly there, clinging to her waist in an embrace that cracked the last of her reserve.

She curled an arm around his back, returning his hug, and cupped her hand over her mouth to thwart the cry she so desperately wanted to release. After long moments, she set Angelo back by his shoulders. "You will aspire for nothing short of greatness. Listen to the masters and mind your tongue."

"
Sì
, mistress." Angelo held her hand against his wet cheek. "Do not let Goliath win. God speed, mistress. I will pray for you."

And with that, her dearest friend disappeared from her embrace. She'd not known such pain, such loss, since the day Fioretta died. She fought her emotions, but lost the battle when a flood of tears spilled over her face.

"Are ye ready, m'lady?"

While the voice wasn't as familiar to her, she recognized Remi's burr and furthermore, his calloused hand at her elbow. Viviana wiped her face with the ruffle of her sleeve. She didn't want to give Goliath the satisfaction of seeing her so miserable.

"Is
he
here?" She pinned her chin to her chest to hide her damp eyes from this man who was virtually a stranger to her.

"M'laird is with your Lorenzo, but will be about shortly." He tied a bracelet around her wrist.

"What is this?" Viviana ran her fingers over the smooth shells.

"A gift. To welcome ye to my clan. 'Tis of no value, but—"

She brought a hand to Remi's mouth to quiet him. Stubble poked her fingers when he twitched his eyes. "It is beautiful.
Grazie
."

"How do ye know if it is beautiful, if ye cannae see it?" he said against her hand.

A small laugh warmed her. "I can see the bracelet through touch. The same as I can see you by feeling your face." She cupped his cheek and drew a line over his bushy brows with the pad of her thumb. His lashes were long as was his nose. While
Signore
Remi was not as handsome as Laird Kraig, he had a much better heart. Even Laird Kraig had neglected to give her a wedding gift as was customary. Of course, it wasn't customary to leave one's bride at the altar either.

"Take your hands from him!" The command jarred her insides and the approaching footsteps drummed in her ears.

"What in the name of Zeus is going on?"

"Ye gods and little fishes. The lassie was just looking at me." Remi pulled Viviana closer.

He was protecting her from Goliath's wrath.

Viviana's smile widened. She squeezed even tighter to him. Oh, she liked Remi. He smelled of sweet clover, unlike the other of Laird Kraig's kinsmen who reeked of licorice. She had decided not to like him for that reason alone.

Miocchi growled and shook against her skirt the same moment Laird Kraig blew past her.
Tempt me, Goliath, and I will unleash my hound.
She narrowed her eyes with her silent threat and stroked Miocchi's head.

"Put her on a horse," Laird Kraig demanded.

"A horse?" she and Remi questioned in unison.

"I cannot ride a horse," she argued.

"She cannae ride a horse," Remi echoed.

"I'll not be slowed by a carriage, if that's what you're thinking. We would be en route for a month. Not to mention a target for every thief from here to the coast."

"The Medici crest is painted on both sides of the carriage in bold reds and golds. 'Twill ward off any brigand with an ounce of wit." Remi consoled her with a pat on her hand. "Fear not, lassie. 'Twill take him a moment, but m'laird will see the right of it."

"That gaudy crest will mean naught in France. What is all of this?"

A coffer thumped onto the ground and the squeak of the latch told Viviana he was rummaging through her belongings. Anger took the place of any sadness still lingering in her chest.

"Gowns, hats, stockings, slippers." He paused. "What is this?"

Viviana sighed. "I know not, as I cannot see what
this
is. You must be more specific, m'laird."

Remi leaned close to her ear. "'Tis white and frilly. Verra pretty."

Her undergarments! She gasped. Fire shot up her neck and into her face.

"Baubles, hair combs, hair pins, hair brushes," pause, "
five
decanters of scented water?" The lid slammed shut. "Ye will not need such frivolity where ye are going. The Scots rarely bathe, and they wear one garment; the plaid. And that includes the women."

"He is an animal," she whispered into Remi's neck and wished she was anywhere but here.

Another coffer hit the ground with a jingle. "Ye packed a mallet?"

He should count his blessing she didn't pack a boulder of marble. "I will need something to throw at you."

Remi chuckled beside her, and she suppressed the urge to elbow him between the ribs.

Laird Kraig growled which set an already nervous Miocchi into fits.

"Yap, yap, yap..."

"Shite!"

"Stand back, m'lady. He is turning red." Remi set her behind his shoulder.

Red was a color she remembered. A color she associated with tragedy and the last color she ever saw. God save her. Her heart sped and beat in all the pulse points of her body.

"The coffer with your rock carving tools stays, as does the dog," Laird Kraig announced over Miocchi's persistent barking.

"No!" Viviana cried out and fell to her knees to quiet her beloved pet. "Shh, Miocchi,
per favore
."

The dog whimpered and licked her hand. Miocchi was all she had. "I cannot leave him. Please, m'laird. I've had him since I lost my sight."

"The dog stays."

Miocchi whined and shivered as if he knew what was happening. She couldn't leave him. He had been her eyes before Angelo came. He'd protected her from Luciano. No one would care for him the way she did. She wrapped her hands around his neck and cried against his thin coat. "Please, m'laird," she begged. "I will leave the coffers and ride a horse."

"Christalmighty! Let the lassie take her pet." Laird Kraig's other kinsmen, whose name she did not yet know, aided her plea.

A long pause stretched the silence. "Have ye both forgotten so quickly the month we spent consoling Makayla when that mangy kitten died?"

"A falcon snatched up Poppet's pet," Remi said. "'Tis unlikely the same will occur with m'lady's dog."

"Put Lady Kraig in the carriage. We've a long journey, and I cannae be assured the coin we have will get us to the coast. The last expense I need is a dog that will eat more than her."

"Come, m'lady." Remi gently pulled her to her feet.

"I will not eat. There are jewels in the coffers; diamonds, rubies, sapphires. Please, m'laird." She continued to grovel, hoping to solicit the slightest compassion from him. Remi had guided her into the carriage before she even realized she'd walked to the door. She sank into the soft seat and pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. He was worse than Radolfo and Luciano.

The man was heartless.

Miocchi whined outside the carriage and scratched the door with his nails. The sound tore at her insides.

She leaned out the window. "M'laird, please."

"A dog of Miocchi's years willnae survive the journey. Would ye have him die en route to Scotland or live the remainder of his days here in Italy?"

She couldn't answer his question. She wanted to scream and felt as though a demon was inside her shredding her heart to pieces.

"Auld woman, come here." A shuffling of feet followed Laird Kraig's command. "Take Miocchi back to Angelo."

A heavy weight pressed against Viviana's chest as she listened to the men mount their steeds.

"M'laird—"

"The dog stays," Laird Kraig cut Remi off with a tone that demanded finality.

"Meghan would not be pleased with ye," Remi said outside the window.

Viviana didn't know who Meghan was, nor did she care. She curled into a ball on the velvet seat and swallowed her cries.

"The dog is nigh hairless. He is conditioned to the heat," Laird Kraig continued to defend his actions. "He will never make it through the mountains. The weather will kill him, and ye well know it. And who will console her when the beastie dies?"

"Ye should be the one to console her. 'Tis your duty as her husband, but as ye are not shaping up to be a verra good husband thus far, I would have consoled her." With the rattle of harness Remi spurred his mount ahead.

The crack of a whip made her jerk and set the carriage in motion. Viviana sniffled and pulled her knees tighter to her chest. Her eyelids slid shut and she tried to remember a time when she didn't feel so alone.

The palace gates squeaked open then shut behind them. Soon, Viviana heard Giotto's bells at Santa Reparata. She crossed her forehead, her lips, then her chest, with the sign of her religion and wished she could have visited her sister one last time.

Farewell, Fioretta. I will keep you forever in my heart.

Chapter 7

"What in the name of Zeus?" Taveon squinted to see better through dusk's pink light and watched the carriage bounce up and down. They'd traveled as far as the outskirts of Modena without event before an odd quiver took hold of the carriage. How could one wee woman cause such a commotion? "She is completely wowf?"

Remi sidled up beside him. "Mayhap she needs to stop."

"Can she not poke her head out the window and simply say, 'M'laird, I have need to stop?'"

"Mayhap 'tis of a personal matter and the lassie is modest," Remi suggested.

Taveon studied Remi's odd expression, trying to figure out what he knew that Taveon did not.

"My Meghan does a little jig when she is in need of privy time. 'Twas always worse when she was carrying."

"What are ye speaking of?"

Remi directed his blinking eyes upward. "M'laird, ye have relieved yourself thrice this day. M'lady hasnae left the carriage even once."

The lines of confusion smoothed on Taveon's face when understanding set in. Did Viviana think him such a brute that she feared asking for time to tend her personal needs?

He didn't want to know the answer to that question.

He kicked the enormous black stallion and trotted up beside the carriage to peek through the window. Viviana clasped her bouncing knees and the pained look on her face told him she was, in fact, in a world of need.

Why had he been so thoughtless? The least he could have done was give his new wife a chamber pot. "M'lady, do ye need to stop?"

"
Sì. Sì.
" Her head bobbed up and down in time with her legs.

"Monroe, stop the carriage."

The wheels rolled to a stop on the dirt road, but the shaking carriage continued to fill the air with a cacophony of creaks and screeches. Taveon dismounted, opened the small door, and assisted Viviana to the ground.

"I will be but a moment, m'laird." She raised her skirt and hastened forward pulling out of his grasp.

Taveon lunged forward and caught the back of her gown to save her from falling into the ditch. "Ye cannae just go traipsing off into the timber, woman. Ye are blind."

"You need not remind me of my flaw. I am fully aware of my limitations."

This certainly presented a problem he hadn't foreseen. Taveon led her into the woodland what he felt was a respectable distance from the road, and set her beside a thick oak. "Go."

The look of horror on her face was laughable; jaw dropped, violet eyes wide and unblinking.

He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. "There. My back is to ye."

"Have I not suffered enough humiliation at your expense?"

He knew she referred to their wedding and had no desire to rehash the experience. "Give me your word ye willnae try to find your way out of the wood on your own."

"Of course, you have my word."

Taveon left her in privacy and waited beside the carriage. No breeze fluttered the leaves or relieved the heat, even with the sun hanging low behind the landscape. Insects had not yet begun their nightly ritual, and only an occasional snort from the horses broke the quiet.

He waited.

In silence.

This is awkward
, he decided and reached into his pocket for a bit of licorice. He savored the bittersweet treat, knowing the supply Madame Bianca had sent with him would soon be depleted. 'Twas the one thing he might actually miss about Italy.

"Can you please make some noise?" Viviana hollered out. "Talk amongst yourself."

"What would ye like us to discuss?" His attempt to be congenial was met with a growl.

She muttered a slew of foreign curses. "I care not what you discuss. You can sing for all I care."

Monroe laughed outright from his seated position at the front of the carriage.

Remi had dismounted and now stood beside Taveon. "I think the lassie wants ye to serenade her whilst she is pi—"

"Ouish, Remi!" Taveon rubbed his eyes. Would this day never end? He'd wracked his mind to find sweet words for his new wife since leaving the palace. Something he might be able to use to worm his way into her good graces.