The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride (23 page)

‘She’s not the only one.’ Murren nibbled her finger end through her glove. ‘Murren is also proving complicated. Ah well.’ She shook her head. ‘How are we expected to understand their reasoning? I’m no longer going to even try. We will or will not discover their intentions at some point. Then I imagine we can deal with them as we think fit. What do you think we will find at Ardfoot? I haven’t been there, have I?’

‘No and I have no idea.’ Fraser guided them down a steep track, which skirted a copse and a trio of standing stones. The horses kicked tiny stones in front of them and dirt and dust created puffs of cloud wherever they placed their hooves. ‘It’s seldom used these days. Firstly Papa died, and I was away. And I would hazard a guess my mama would be hard pressed to tell you anything above the basics about it. She and my papa did not spend time together in leisurely pursuits whenever I was around. I can’t think they would have changed so radically in later years. Since I’ve been back it’s been a bit like the spare house. Waiting for something or someone.’

Heavens how fanciful he seemed. He gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘Now I sound like Jessie or Beshlie and their prophecies. Truly, love, I wonder if it is a ploy to get us away from the castle for some reason. What though I can’t fathom. Neither have a birthday for a surprise to be planned, and it’s not the open day for the ladies of the estate to come and wander and admire the furniture and portraits. We tie that in with the harvest.’

‘Well, whatever the reason, freedom is good.’ Morven wriggled her shoulders under her jacket. ‘Although I’m somewhat warm, and would prefer to have on a lighter habit.’

‘Take you jacket off,’ Fraser suggested and deliberately didn’t let his hope that she would do show in his voice. ‘Or your blouse. No one will know except me, and I’m not sharing such arousing news as that.’

Morven giggled. ‘I may normally be an accomplished horsewoman, but even I haven’t worked out how to undress at a trot.’

‘We could stop.’

‘We could,’ she agreed. ‘How far do we have left to go?’

Fraser glanced around. ‘Around a mile, we’re well over halfway there.’

Morven hummed deep in her throat and bit her lip. ‘Hmm two miles on the flat with little need to exert myself, as I assume, or uphill, where I will break into an unladylike sweat, as I assume not?’

He grinned to acknowledge her hit. ‘Yes it’s flat and we’ll be there soon.’

‘Then I’ll wait.’

‘However,’ Fraser said blandly, ‘I have another idea.’

She looked at him suspiciously, which he decided was not unexpected after his previous suggestions.

‘Which is?’

‘You take your jacket off and get cooler. I take out the whisky I saw in these damned heavy saddlebags and hide them at the junction where we would turn to Ardfoot. Then we head for Burnloch Glen and see if we can find Tam and Beshlie. It’s straight on up the track.’

****

Two hours later Fraser pointed to a thin spiral of smoke, which went up from a copse ahead of them. ‘Going by past years that should be them. Tam you know, the curmudgeonly bast…beggar’s bark is worse than his bite. Beshlie is a kind gentle soul, with a mind as sharp as a gin trap. She’ll have known we were on our way as soon as we made our minds up. Another one with the sight.’

Morven nodded, too hot, sweaty and thirsty to say anything. Even though Fraser had tied a skin of water onto his saddle, and she’d followed his advice and taken her jacket off, Morven was still conscious she was not hydrated—or tidy. Her hair had long forgotten it was supposed to be tied in a bun at the nape of her neck and was now in a knot of its own tresses, from which most of the strands had escaped to cling to her damp skin.

‘I look and feel a mess,’ she said, dry-mouthed. ‘I can not meet people like this. At least find me somewhere to wash my face and hands, and have a drink.’

Fraser shot her a sharp glance and nodded. ‘There’s a burn thirty yards on. Cold clear water straight from the Ben. Will that do?’

It would, especially if there was a convenient tree to hide behind, to take care of one other pressing need. ‘Perfect,’ she gasped. ‘Lead on.’

When she re-emerged from behind a gorse bush, having relieved herself and washed in a tiny burn not much more than a trickle, Fraser stood with his back to her whistling. She sniggered. ‘Is it safe to come out?’

He turned around and winked. ‘Oh yes. I went in the other direction. Here, have a drink.’ Morven took the skin of water gratefully. There hadn’t been enough of a flow where she’d washed to drink as well. ‘Ah that’s better. My mouth felt like I had supped a particularly nasty medicinal draught. Now I feel clean and refreshed.’

‘Then we’ll get on.’

Morven followed him to the horses and kept a close watch on how, as they got to within twenty yards or so of the copse, he conducted himself. She herself had no idea what to do. Was there a particular meet-the-Romany etiquette?

It seemed there was. They stopped at the beginning of a grassy track, which wound its way between the ever-closer trees, and Fraser whistled a strange two-noted noise.

‘What was that?’ Morven whispered. The atmosphere seemed to call for lowered tones.

‘The sign,’ he said briefly, in a voice not much louder than hers.

The sign of what?
‘Right.’

Fraser glanced at her. ‘You’ll see, it’s just their protocol. I have no idea who else does it, if anyone, but I do, for Tam.’

Wullie’s double appeared on the track ahead of them. Morven blinked and she had to remember to shut her mouth. She had forgotten just what Tam looked like and therefore how similar he appeared to his cousin. The only difference was the hair. Tam sported a full set of whiskers and his hair flowed long down his back, tinged with grey. Wullie’s was shorter and had lost none of its vivid colour.

‘Ach it’s yourself and the wife,’ Tam said as he got close enough to speak clearly. ‘I was a thinking mebbes you’d be by afore we got to the castle. Word in the air is you’re wondrin, who you are.’

Wife? Air? Who? Good grief.
The butterflies in her stomach grew by the second. Was this second sight seeing things that were really true and not something said to encourage people to hand over their cash and hear things to make them happy?

‘Perhaps,’ Fraser said non-committally, ‘wife is a moot point.’

Tam laughed. ‘Aye and mebbe not. Come away down and we’ll talk.’

Fraser dismounted and helped Morven to the ground. She took hold of the reins and Tam’s large hand covered hers. ‘Let me, lassie. You walk with your man. He’ll tell you the sight is true.’ He roared as she reddened. ‘Aye, even in me a bitty. My Beshlie now? Och she’s the best.’

That was what Morven now worried about. Beshlie was an unknown quantity and one she wasn’t that sanguine about. She hurried to an amused Fraser and kept pace with him. ‘How mortifying and how rude. Of both of us. I can not show my face to him or his wife, I can not.’

Fraser covered her hand with his spare one and patted it comfortingly. ‘Don’t worry, even I could tell you thought he was quizzing you. He’ll behave—Beshlie will see to it. We do need to ask him and find out where he thinks we stand, before we talk to anyone else.’

She knew it, and nodded reluctantly. Behind them, Tam whistled cheerfully. Morven wished she could appear so happy, and so unconcerned. Those rioting butterflies inside wouldn’t let her. What she wouldn’t do for a glass of whisky, even if she didn’t like the stuff. It might just calm her nerves.

‘It’ll be fine,’ Fraser said and squeezed the hand he held. ‘Whatever the outcome, we want each other, yes?’

‘Yes.’ That was a given. ‘But I want us to want each other because we want to, not because we think we should.’

Fraser shook his head in what seemed like mock sorrow. ‘Lord, woman, what a tongue twister. I’d say our behaviour since you returned shows you we can’t keep our hands off each other
because
we want each other. Good grief, what a convoluted conversation. Morven, I love you—believe that if you believe nothing else. All right?’

‘Very, thank you,’ she said demurely, then gave a little skip. ‘And I you, but I still worry.’

‘About?’ he queried.

‘Our mamas.’

‘Well once we get this “are we aren’t we” sorted out we’ll know best how to approach and deal with them. Look on the bright side, it could be very amusing. We know what they do not.’

Put like that it almost sounded fun. Morven walked on hand in hand with Fraser and wondered what was about to happen with a lightened heart. If nothing else she should discover her marital status or not. ‘Do you know? I might discover I’m a mistress.’

‘You might also discover you are a wife.’ Fraser said. ‘Are you ready for that?’

She put her hand to the new chain around her neck, where they had decided to put the ring Jessie had given her next to the old one Fraser bestowed on her all those years ago.

‘Are you?’

****

‘Oh yes. I still love you and want you more than ever, never doubt it. But I want to be able to shout it to the world,’ Fraser said seriously. ‘Be it by hand fasting, in the kirk or whatever. I want to know where we stand so I know what best to do.’ He pondered his words. ‘And, rather evilly, I rather like the ideas of presenting our mamas with a fait accompli.’

Morven broke stride and tripped over a fallen branch. ‘Oh my, could we?’

‘Let’s see.’ They walked on in companionable silence until they reached a clearing where three canvas-topped caravans were pulled up, surrounded by several bow tents. Carts were parked to one side, horses cropped the grass and at least a dozen children milled about screaming and shouting. Fraser stopped and waited until Tam caught up with them.

‘To the left.’ Tam pointed to one more ornate wagon, set slightly apart from the others. ‘And there’s Beshlie come to greet you.’

A small and slender woman with large gold hoops in her ears, and several gold chains around her neck poked her head out of the half door, and then descended sedately down the wooden steps to the grass. She curtsied to them both and ginned.

‘There now, my lord, it’s grand to see you and your lady again. Are you still happily wed?’

Morven gasped and clenched Fraser’s hand so tightly he lost all circulation in his fingers.

‘Are we wed?’ Fraser asked steadily, as Morven loosened her grip and he was able to flex his digits carefully. He waited until Beshlie looked to Tam and back to him before he spoke again. ‘Are we? It’s important we know for sure what exactly happened on that day.’

No one spoke. Even the shouting children seemed to vanish to the other side of the clearing, and into the tents.

‘Will you sit and have nettle tea, and some victuals?’ Beshlie asked. ‘Then we’ll talk.’

Fraser glanced at Morven. She nodded and sat gracefully on an upturned log. ‘It’s important,’ she said quietly. ‘For we need to know what to do.’

Tam inclined his head. ‘Wait for Beshlie and we’ll explain.’

There wasn’t much else they could do. Fraser stretched out on the grass next to Morven and began to nibble on a stem.

She looked at him and grinned. ‘I wonder how many horses have peed on that?’

He dropped it like a hot potato and shook his head in mock exasperation. ‘Trust you.’

‘Oh yes.’ Her breath came out in a low hiss of warning, as Beshlie reappeared at the top of the caravan steps and Tam took the ornate gilded tray she held from her. His pride in his wife was obvious.

Once she was seated next to Morven, Beshlie poured a steaming green liquid from a battered jug and handed mugs of it around.

Morven sniffed suspiciously and her eyes opened wide. ‘Ah, yes, I like the scent.’ She sipped cautiously and grinned. ‘It’s good.’

Beshlie laughed. ‘And the nettles gathered where no horse can pee on them.’

Morven blushed and then laughed with Beshlie. ‘Oh good.’

‘We meant no harm or wrong, you know,’ Tam said once the mugs were empty. ‘Beshlie saw the signs you were for each other. We wanted to give you a time to remember.’ He was silent for a moment, and produced a pipe and tobacco from his waistcoat.

‘Tam Curtin,’ Beshlie said fiercely. ‘Don’t you dare, filthy, smelly thing. Put it away and now go on, tell the rest.’

He reddened but did as he was told. ‘You’re a hard woman, my Beshlie.’ He patted her knee. ‘As well you’re my life. Now then, Lady Morven, it was obvious you had some sight even though you didn’t know it.’

Morven jumped. ‘How?’ What did that mean?

Tam smiled. ‘It means you have an awareness of what is all around you. More than some, less than others. You could develop it if you…’

‘Tam.’ Beshlie glared again. ‘Stick to the point. I’ll talk about the sight to Lady Morven another time if she wants to hear. Now put the lassie and the laird out of their misery and tell them what they need to know.’

‘You sense no fear from us, know all is safe?’

Morven looked at Fraser and he smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. He was fine. He’d known Tam and Beshlie all his life and understood that their ethics might not be his, but they were truthful and never hurt anyone unnecessarily. ‘I do, love, but why not use that sense Tam says you have and decide.’ He watched with amusement as Morven’s eyes darkened and she stiffened for a brief second, then sniffed the air a bit like a gun dog on the scent of a downed game bird.

‘I trust you both,’ she said simply. ‘For now.’

Tam chuckled. ‘All we can ask for I reckon, so I’ll go on a bitty. It was as clear as the Ben is now.’ He pointed to the strong outline of the mountain in the distance, its crevices and valleys dark and light in the sunshine, with the shadows of clouds chasing across its surface. ‘You both had strong feelings for each other. They shone out of you like the midnight moon on a flat calm loch. When you came to me, well, ach, to my shame what started as fun and a way to make your day memorable turned serious. When both of you spoke of vows, I knew what I had to do.’

‘Wed us?’ Fraser said flatly. ‘Without our knowledge or agreement.’

Tam reddened and for the first time looked ashamed. ‘Exactly. Well, no, not quite. You see…’

‘No you see, you idiot. We had no idea, and now still have no idea. Hell, it took me ages to figure it all out, and even now I still don’t know where we are. Are we wed or
not
?’ Fraser ended his words on a roar. This was their lives Tam had messed with, and he, Fraser, wasn’t at all happy about it. If he was married he wanted to celebrate. If he wasn’t he wanted to change the status quo fast.