The Highlander's Reward (19 page)

“My laird?” a gate guard asked.

“Leave it closed. I would see what he wants before welcoming him inside.”

When Wallace finally reached the castle walls, he looked up and waved at Magnus.
“Laird Sutherland! ’Tis good to see ye again.”

“Indeed
’tis good to see ye with a head still upon your shoulders. What can I do for ye, Wallace?”

He hooked h
is thumb in the air toward a man on his left. “My scout overheard a band of English mention your name.”

“Aye?
What did they say?”

“Might we come in to discuss it?”

“Open the gates,” Magnus ordered, and then descended into the courtyard to greet their guests.

Wallace only brought in a half dozen of his
men, the rest remained outside the castle walls. He dismounted and stepped forward, his arm outstretched for Magnus to clasp.

“Come inside, I’ll see that ye have a cup of ale and a warm meal.”

Wallace and his men followed Magnus inside, Ronan, Gavin and Ronald in tow.

Ronan had a look of admiration on his face as he stared at Wallace.

“My brother, Ronan, is a fan of ye, Wallace.”

“Good to meet
ye. ’Haps ye’d like to join our forces?”

Ronan’s mouth dropped open, but he quickly regained his footing. “’Twould be an honor to fight alongside ye for our country’s freedom. But I must regretfully decline. I am needed here.”

Magnus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His brother lived and breathed his skill with the sword. ’Twas an excellent opportunity for him to excel and possibly gain a leadership role he would not have at Dunrobin. “Ronan, ye are a great warrior, and if ye wish to join with Wallace, I would fully support your decision.”

Ronan’s eyes were filled with glee, but he maintained a stoic countenance.
“My thanks, my laird.” He turned back to Wallace. “I shall have to think on it. How long will ye stay?”

“Only until the morning.
But if your decision is not made by then, we will gladly accept ye at any time.”

Ronan nodded. Mugs of ale and trenchers of food were placed on the table, and Magnus invited the Wallace warriors to sit and partake while he and his men joined them at the table.

“Tell us of the English,” Magnus said.

Wallace took a bite of meat and washed it down with a healthy gulp of ale. “They were camping in the hills about a day’s ride from here.
Nearly three dozen. One said he was looking for his daughter, and a neighboring clan of yours had pointed him in this direction.”

“Did they say which clan?”

“I didna hear it if they did,” the scout piped in. “But they are planning to come here as soon as they confirm that the English lord’s daughter is within.”

Magnus’ gut clenched. All along he’d known the day would come when he’d have to face Arbella’s father, but he hadn’t thought it would be so soon. He prayed that the connection they’d forged in the cave overnight could last the onslaught of her father and his men. “How will they confirm?”

“I believe they are sending someone to infiltrate the walls, under the guise of a minstrel or messenger.”

“None such have come yet. Did ye happen to catch the name of the Englishman and who he spoke with?”

“Aye, the Baron de Mowbray and the man he planned with was called Stewart.”

Mo creach!
He’d harbored an inkling of hope that ’twas someone other than the baron, but now his suspicions were confirmed—and worse yet, her betrothed rode with her father. Trouble was bound to arrive with them.

“I thank
ye for bringing this news to me, Wallace. How can I repay ye for your warning?”

Wallace belched loudly and slammed down his cup of ale. “Ye earned my friendship the day ye joined us on Stirling Brid
ge. Who knows, mayhap without your help we wouldna been the victors that day.”

Magnus reached out and clapped Wallace on the back. “I was glad to have been there, Wallace.
’Twas not only a victorious day for the Scots against the English, but a victorious day for me as well. I met my wife at Stirling Bridge.”

“The baron’s daughter.”
Wallace nodded as if he had guessed as much. “I do hope she was worth it, Sutherland, else a battle will be upon ye that ye dinna want.”

“I dinna want the battle as it is, but I do want my wife.”

“Then a battle ye will have,” Wallace warned. “The English dinna take kindly to us taking what is theirs.”

“I know.”

De Mowbray’s scouts could be within throwing distance soon. A bunch of ideas swarmed in his mind. On one hand he wanted the man to know his daughter was here, that she was happy and that she wanted to stay. Wanted her betrothed to leave them be, but on the other, he wanted them to pass by Sutherland lands believing she wasn’t within their walls.

He knew which decision was the right one. But he didn’t like it.
Abhorred it.

There was only a short time until the reckoning came, and in that time he had to convince Arbella that Dunrobin was her home for good.

Arbella sank lower into the steaming tub. “Thank you, Heather,” she murmured as her sister-by-marriage massaged lavender scented soap into her hair.

“Ye dinna ha
ve to thank me. I canna imagine what ye went through today. I dinna think I would have made it home again.”

“Aye, ye would. Ye are strong, like your brothers.”

Arbella could feel Heather’s frown in the way her fingers turned from less than tender for a fraction of a second.

“I dinna want to be like my brothers. I want to be like my older sister Lorna.”

“I wish I could have met her.”

“Ye will, as soon as the babe is born, she promises to come to Dunrobin and visit with us.”

“The babe? I thought she was just married?” Arbella frowned, wondering if she’d misunderstood Magnus.

“Oops…” Heather chuckled. “Magnus didna tell
ye? Chief Montgomery seduced her.” The young woman sighed. “’Twas so romantic the way he wooed her.”

“He wooed her into bed before they were wed?”

“Aye,” Heather hurried to finish, “but ’twas not sordid as all that. They were in love. They begged to wed but Magnus wouldna let them. He bloodied the man’s lip for touching her.”

Arbella chuckled. “What did Lorna do?”

“Och, she threw a fit that had even the mice running. But ’twas not until she found out she was carrying his babe that Magnus relented.”

“He’s a stubborn man.”

“Aye, but the Sutherland women are even more stubborn.”

“See
, you are more like your brothers than you care to admit.”

“I will admit no such thing. But I know this, if I fall in love, there
is nothing Magnus can do to keep me from following my heart.”

Arbella smiled, imagining Heather declaring her intentions and threatening anyone who stood in her way—and there were bound to be at least three obstacles: Magnus, Blane and Ronan.

“Well, we can only hope when the day comes that you find a man who can make you happy and that you’ve fallen in love with, that your brothers see reason and acquiesce.”

“I willna even bother hoping. Perhaps I shall just take the man to the chapel without telling anyone, then they will not
have a say in the matter.”

Arbella wanted to laugh at the conviction in Heather’s voice, but she knew all too well that Heather
was
like her brothers, whether she wanted to admit it or not. If she said she was going to take the man to the chapel, she would do just that.

“But then I would not be able to help you make a beautiful gown or a crown of flowers to wear on such a
n important day.”

“Dunk your head.”

Arbella followed Heather’s directions and rinsed her hair in the water. When she came back up Heather held up a linen, a frown on her face.

“What is this?”

Arbella’s mouth fell open, but no words came out. Heather held the bloody sheet she’d secreted away.

“Where did you find that?”

“In here with the other linens. Is this your…” Heather’s eyes widened and then she balled up the sheet and stuffed it back in the chest. Without another word she pulled out a clean linen towel and handed it to Arbella to dry herself.

Heather’s face still flam
ed from what she’d found. She wiped her hands on her skirts. “Ye might be right, Arbella. I will take it into consideration.”

Lord, Arbella hoped the girl would. Magnus would tear the Highlands apart if Heather eloped.

“Well, now that ye are good and comfortable, I will see about getting ye a hot meal.”

As soon as Heather left, Arbella tore the bloodied sheet into several pieces and let them burn in the brazier set beside the tub
, filled with burning wood. The smoke made her choke and she waved her arms, hoping to push the smoke out of the windows. After several moments, and plenty of coughs, the room did clear of smoke. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to burn the sheet in the brazier, but at least she never had to worry about anyone else finding the evidence of her and Magnus’ secret.

Heather would be the only one to know that the marriage between herself and Magnus had not been consummated until they reached Dunrobin.

Chapter Nineteen

After a hot meal following her bath, Arbella found herself in the kitchen with Agnes the cook and her assistants. She’d come down to thank the woman for sending up a savory vegetable stew, but instead Agnes had shooed everyone out and insisted Arbella stay to show her some other recipes to use.

“Now, dinna go and tell anyone about this,”
Agnes said behind a conspiratorial hand. “I am known throughout Sutherland lands and beyond to be the best of cooks. But,” she said, shaking her head, “I am finding it harder and harder to come up with a main meal for ye, lass, when all else are eating meat.”

Arbella beamed at the woman, thrilled she’d invited her into her sanctuary to assist her.

“Agnes, I would be honored to share with you some of the foods that were made for me in England.”

One of Agnes’ grey bushy brows rose and she tilted her head toward Arbella. “Be they English foods then?”

“Of course not!” Arbella placed her hand to her chest in mock exasperation. “I would never. Besides, ’twas common knowledge at Mowbray Manor that our cook was born in Scotland.”

She didn’t know if that was true or not, but if it helped Agnes then she was happy to
allude to such, and she would of course make her confession for lying as soon as she left.

“On with the lesson then,
” said the cook.

“First, I will show you how to make mushroom pasties, they are my absolute favorite.” Her mouth watered just thinking about it.

“Sounds delicious.”

“Excellent. We shall need a pie crust,
oil, mushrooms, mustard powder, pepper, an egg and some cheese.” She looked thoughtfully around the kitchen. “Do you have any salt? A pinch always makes the pasties so much more delectable.”

Agnes winked at her. “I do have a bit of cooking salt just for
ye, my lady.”

Together they made a pie crust, rolling the dough out and
cutting out several squares. Next they chopped up the mushrooms, combining all of the ingredients, save the egg, in a bowl.

“Now we’ll place a portion of the mushroo
m mixture onto each square, fold over the dough and seal them with the whisked egg.”

“’Tis not unlike the apple pasties I make,” Agnes mused.

“Aye. You can do this same thing with any vegetable and I will love you for it.”

They finished making about a dozen pasties and placed them on stones around the hot hearth to bake.

“Shall we make one more and perhaps ye’ll come back again on the morrow for another lesson?” Agnes asked.

“I would be more than happy to, Agnes.” Arbella’s heart swelled with happiness. “Thank you for accepting me.
For offering me friendship.”

Agnes patted her hand. “You are a blessing to us all, my lady. I didna think I’d see the day when our laird would marry, and when we learned it would be to…someone else, we were all afeared for our futures. That he brought home a woman as special as ye made us all verra happy.”
She winked. “Even if ye are English.”

Tears choked
Arbella. Rather than give into the maelstrom of emotions threatening to release, she said, “Next we shall make
blaunche porre
. ’Tis leeks and onions in a savory, sweet sauce of cinnamon, cloves and sugar.”

“Och, a lady after my heart…”

By the time they finished preparing the
blaunche porre,
the mushroom pasties were also done baking. Cook placed a pasty and a healthy scoop of leeks and onions on two trenchers. She sat down on a stool at the high table and patted the seat beside her.

“I’d be honored if ye’d dine with me, my lady.”

Arbella grinned widely, her stomach rumbling. “I thought ye’d never ask.” She hurried to sit and took a healthy bite of the pasty. Juicy mushrooms and crusty pie crust exploded in her mouth in a myriad of succulent flavors. “Mmm…”

“With his lairdship occupied with his visitors, the nooning willna go on as planned, instead we are to serve an early dinner,” Agnes said between bites of leeks.

Arbella hadn’t realized how late it was. “What visitors?”

“Wallace and his men, my lady.
I thought ye…”

Arbella waved her hand in dismissal at the way Agnes face crumpled into a worry lines.

“Do not fret, Agnes. I was resting and came here by way of the front entrance instead of going through the great hall.” Under normal circumstances she might have been offended that Magnus did not include her in his dining with guests, but Wallace was no ordinary guest, and she was too afraid to face the man after what she’d been through at Stirling Bridge.

“I am happier eating my nooning with you than with Wallace’s men. Although, I do wish Magnus could taste your work here. Ag
nes, you truly are a marvelous cook.”

Agnes blushed, pasty crumbs stuck to her lips. “Thank
ye, my lady.”

Arbella smiled. “I do believe I will enjoy coming here to cook with you. When I was in England, Glenda said
’twas unseemly for a maiden to cook in the kitchens, so I was not allowed to participate, but I did sneak in to watch.”

“Who is Glenda?”

“She was my nursemaid and then as I grew older she was simply my maid, my companion.”

“What of your mother?”

The empty void where a mother’s love should have been reopened in her chest. “My mother died when I was very young.”

“I’m sorry, lass.”

“Don’t be sorry for me. I was very fortunate to have grown up with a loving father and… Glenda.” Arbella frowned. “Most of what she told me has turned out to be false, but in any case, she was the only mother figure I ever knew.”

Agnes laughed. “What did she teach
ye?”

“Well for starters, she told me that all elder Scottish women were witches with warts aplenty on their noses.”

Agnes’ mouth dropped open and she sucked in a healthy breath, choking on a crumb remnant. Arbella patted her loudly on the back.

When her coughs had subsided and she’d wiped the tears from her eyes, Agnes said, “I am glad to have proven her wrong, my lady.”

“As am I.” Using the wooden spoon that Agnes had provided her with to eat her leeks, Arbella scraped the last drops of leek sauce that she could from the trencher.

“Looks delicious.”

At the sound of Magnus’ deep, inviting voice, Arbella looked up sharply, embarrassed to have been seen scraping drops of nothing. She might as well have picked up her trencher and licked it.

“Can I have a bite?” he asked, walking forward and spying her empty trencher.

Heat infused her cheeks and she bit her lip. “I’m afraid I’ve devoured it all.”

Magnus chuckled. “Agnes is a wonderful cook.”

“My laird, ’twas all—”

“Aye, she is.” Arbella placed her hand over Agnes’. “Thank you for allowing me into your domain, Agnes.”

The older woman’s eyes widened and she nodded her head. Arbella didn’t want to take the credit. Hadn’t Agnes told her to keep it their little secret anyway?

“I shall see you tomorrow, my lady
?”

“
I am hopeful. Until then,” she grabbed the remaining pasties, “I will take these with me.” She handed one to Magnus. “Come, let us give the kitchen back to Cook.”

Magnus ate half the pasty in one bite, exclaiming through his full lips at the taste.

“Delicious, aren’t they?”

When they were out in the brisk afternoon air, both munching on mushroom pasties, Magnus asked, “Why did ye not let Agnes give ye credit for making the food?”

She looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “How did you know?”

Magnus smiled and put his heavy arm around her shoulders. She easily sank against him. “Agnes has never made either of those dishes before.”

“Mayhap she got the recipe from a cousin.”

Magnus laughed. “And mayhap she’s opened her heart to her mistress.”

Arbella smiled. “Aye, I think you are right.”

“I am happy that she has. That ye’ve found a place here.”

“In the kitchen?”

Magnus grabbed another pasty from her. “After tasting these, I might just ask
ye to do that.”

Arbella playfully swatted him, but inside her heart swelled. “I’ve always wanted to actually cook.”

“Do ye mean to say ye haven’t?” He looked at her incredulously.

She shook her head.
“Nay. My father would not allow it, since Glenda—”

“Oh, that wretched woman!
If I get my hands on her…” He didn’t finish his sentence though, laughing instead.

“I know, she had some terrible ideas, but she did care for me.” Arbella tried not to laugh but she couldn’t help it. The things that Glenda had told her had been so unequivocally wrong.

“How did ye learn to cook then?” Magnus led them into the garden. He bent and picked up an orange flower that looked to have a hundred petals. He tucked the flower behind her ear. “’Tis an everlasting flower.” He paused his gaze turning serious, intense. “Just like I hope we are.”

“Everlasting?”
Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper. It was what she wanted, but with it brought so much unknown. And she feared the unknown.

“Aye.”

The weight of his pronouncement settled on her shoulders. Could he mean them truly? “Magnus…”

H
urt flashed behind his eyes but he quickly hid any disappointment. She took both of his hands in hers. “I want that too, but… I’m afraid.”

He led her to a stone bench and pulled her to sit beside him. “Bella, Wallace and his men came with news.” His eyes searched hers. “Your father knows y
e’re here.”

Her back stiffened as she sat taller. “How does he know?” But she needn’t have asked
; there were plenty of people who knew she’d come to Sutherland—all of the abbey, all the clansmen here and Ina Ross. Narrowing it down, she could guess that Ina was most likely behind giving him the information.

Prickles covered her skin and she shivered.

She wasn’t sure if she was more scared of her father hurting her husband or her husband hurting her father. Either way, the confrontation would not go over well.

“We believ
e ’twas Ina’s men who told him. The scout said they overheard the baron say a neighboring clan revealed your whereabouts. Moray and Sinclair would never have divulged the information. That only leaves the Ross clan.”

“How
did he ever find them to ask?” She looked bewildered.

“He and his men must have gone across their lands and intercepted some Ross retainers who were more than eager to tell him where his daughter was.
’Tis my fault. I should have taken care that this did not happen.”

Arbella shook her head
and fingered her skirt nervously. “Magnus, indeed you should not have become a party to a betrothal you wished no part in, but you cannot blame yourself for the actions of Ina. She is a jealous woman, and I have taken what she wants.”

“But even ye had little voice in the matter.”

Again she shook her head, this time boldly meeting his gaze. “When you took me behind the church, when all were inside waiting for us to say our vows, I could have used the strike. I could have run away. But I did not. I let you kiss me instead.”

He grinned at her, a lock of his hair falling on his forehead. “Ye did that…
’Twas a most delicious kiss.” He leaned forward, his lips pressing lightly to hers. “I would kiss ye every minute of every day if it were possible.”

“And I would let you.”

He pulled back, stroking his thumb over her lower lip. “What will ye do?”

She was so distracted by his sensual
touch, she’d nearly forgotten their discussion. “About what?”

“Your father.”

She shrugged. “What can I do?”

“He will demand ye return
with him. And if Stewart is with him, the man may demand satisfaction.”

“Satisfaction?”