The Wedding (29 page)

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Authors: Julie Garwood

BOOK: The Wedding
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“Sometimes,” he answered as he led the way to the upper bailey.
Brenna tried to see everything at once.
Just before they reached the courtyard Connor called a halt. He dismounted and turned to assist her while he tried to answer the questions the men called out to him.
He had only just let go of his wife when the crowd surrounded him. Holding the stallion's reins behind his back, he started up the last of the incline. He assumed Brenna was right behind him, and when the reins were taken out of his hand, he thought Quinlan or Owen had taken over the duty of leading the horse to the stablemaster, for they were the only two soldiers the temperamental stallion would let near.
Men and women pushed forward to speak to their laird. Brenna kept backing away so she wouldn't get trampled. The stallion didn't like the crowd pressing in on him any more than she did and reared up in protest. She grabbed hold of his reins before he did any damage to anyone, and forced the animal to back up with her. She was nearly lifted off her feet a couple of times, then was pushed backward as the disgruntled beast tried to charge her. The training her brothers had forced on her came to her assistance now. She refused to give in to the animal's intimidating antics, and she tightened her hold on his reins and jerked his head down hard. After one last moment of struggle, the horse understood she meant to get her way.
She patted him to let him know she appreciated his cooperation and led him toward the stables.
A soldier stood on the steps leading up to the entrance until his laird beckoned him forward.
“All's well, Connor.”
An immediate hush fell over the crowd as they listened to the conversation. “I expected it would be, Crispin. 'Tis the reason you were given command while I was away.”
The two warriors stood eye to eye as they faced each other in the center of the courtyard.
“I have good news for you. Your stepmother is waiting in the great hall to greet you.”
Connor smiled. “That is good news.”
“Lady Euphemia's curiosity to see your wife must have been the motivation she needed to come back to MacAlister land.”
“I would assume so. Perhaps she sees this as a new beginning, though in truth, I thought completing a new fortress would bring her back. Is she well, Crispin?”
“She seems to be well,” he answered. “Connor, do I address her as Lady MacAlister?”
“You do. She was my father's wife and hasn't married again.”
“She's still mourning him, for she's dressed in black,” Crispin told him. “There is one more matter I wish to tell you about.”
“Can it wait until later?”
“You'll want to hear this news now,” he insisted. “Laird Hugh is sending something that was left on his border. He insists you'll want to see it. Whatever it is should be here within the hour.”
“Hugh sends you a gift?” Quinlan asked his laird.
Crispin answered. “It's more of a message than a gift. I wasn't able to get anything more specific out of his soldiers. They were worried, however, and insisted several times that their laird is not responsible. It was extremely important to Hugh that Connor understand this.”
“This makes little sense,” Quinlan muttered. “Why wouldn't they tell you who it was from?”
“They wouldn't explain,” Crispin replied.
“Then we'll wait and see,” Connor replied.
He then smiled at his friend and, as Connor passed him on his way inside, pounded him on the shoulder to let him know he was pleased with him. Quinlan shoved Crispin in the hopes of getting him to lose his balance. Crispin held his ground and pretended boredom, but the glint in his brown eyes gave him away.
“You missed a fine time, Crispin. Aye, you should have been there to watch me wield my sword. It was a sight to see, and you would have learned a thing or two.”
Crispin laughed. “I wouldn't have needed to touch my sword, for my hands are just as effective. Besides, I taught you everything you know. Isn't that true, Connor?” he called out.
“I do not involve myself in petty disputes, though I will admit I don't understand either one of your empty boasts.'Tis a fact I trained both of you.”
Crispin fully appreciated his laird's candor. He watched Connor slowly make his way through the clan to the side of the keep so he could go up the steps. The two soldiers were expected to follow their laird, as it had become a ritual for them to sit at the table with Connor while he caught up on the latest happenings within the clan. They stayed back now so that the other followers could have a turn greeting him.
Both Crispin and Quinlan kept glancing over their shoulders every now and again. Crispin was puzzled, for he had been on the walkway above the wall when his laird rode up to the drawbridge and had seen that he wasn't alone then. Why was he now?
Quinlan couldn't stop smiling. He knew exactly why his laird was alone.
Crispin's curiosity finally got the better of him when Connor started up the steps to go inside the keep. “Was your journey successful, Laird?” he shouted.
“It was,” Connor called back.
“Then you did marry?”
“I did.”
“Where might your bride be?”
Connor had assumed his wife was following behind him and was now being delayed by the clan. Honest to God, he hadn't given her another thought since Crispin began his report.
He scanned the crowd, looking for his wife. He spotted Owen smiling like a simpleton at the women surrounding him. Brenna was nowhere in sight, however.
“Why aren't you at the stables tending my horse, Owen?” Connor was halfway across the courtyard by the time he finished bellowing his question.
“Another took over the duty for me, Laird,” Owen explained with a nervous glance toward Quinlan.
Connor turned to his friend. “Where is my wife, Quinlan?”
“I believe you left her in the lower bailey.”
The crowd scattered in every direction as their laird came striding toward the path. The look on Connor's face suggested he didn't wish to be delayed. Crispin and Quinlan followed, but unlike their laird, they weren't scowling.
“Quinlan, how were you able to tend to my stallion and return to the courtyard in such a short time?”
“I didn't tend your stallion,” he answered.
“Did Davis?” Connor asked just to make certain the stablemaster had come forward to take over the duty.
“No.”
“Then who . . .”
“Another more capable than Davis led your stubborn beast away.”
Connor heard the laughter in Quinlan's voice and knew there was something more to be told. He stopped worrying about Brenna being left alone with his stallion because he knew Quinlan wouldn't have been so damned happy if she'd been in any real danger.
“You forgot her, didn't you, Connor?”
“I did no such thing, Quinlan. Who was more capable than Davis? No more jests,” he warned. “I'm not in the mood.”
“I won't jest, but you still won't believe me. Your wife took over the duty.”
“I don't believe you.”
Quinlan nudged Crispin. “He did forget her,” he whispered.
As soon as they reached the stables, Connor pulled the doors wide before either one of his soldiers could get ahead of him to see to the duty.
The stablemaster came running. He bowed to his laird and was about to welcome him back to the keep when Connor interrupted him.
“Davis, is my stallion in his stall?”
“He is, Laird, and as content as I've ever seen.”
“Then you didn't have your usual difficulty getting him to settle down?”
“I was saved from the task by your lady. She certainly has a way with animals, Laird, but I'm sure you already knew that. She soothed the anger out of the beast in no time at all. Your stallion was happy to let her lead him to his quarters.”
Connor knew Davis was telling him the truth, as difficult as it was to believe.
“Where is Lady MacAlister now?”
“She spotted Ewan's wife giving their bairn the afternoon air. I'm thinking that was where she was headed.”
Connor nodded and walked away. He paused once when Davis called out, “You've chosen well, Laird.”
Brenna had already left Ewan's cottage, however. While the blushing mother explained she'd been thrilled to have her mistress's undivided attention, she seemed far more interested in praising Brenna than in telling Connor where she'd gone.
“She insisted on holding the baby and didn't mind at all that he hadn't had his bath yet. She has a special way with children, Laird. My little one is usually suspicious of strangers, but he took to her right away. Your wife's a dear lass, and from England, of all scandalous places. She's thoughtful as can be. She hurried over to meet Brocca when she noticed her staring out at her through the window.”
His patience was nearly gone by the time he finally caught up with Brenna. She had already left Brocca's cottage and was just about to knock on another door when he stopped her.
She didn't look especially pleased to see him. He couldn't believe she dared to frown at him after she'd caused him so much trouble.
“You forgot me, didn't you?” She folded her arms and continued to frown at him.
Connor wasn't at all impressed with the way she tried to intimidate him. He moved closer so that she was forced to tilt her head back in order to look up at him, and then said, “You will not take that tone with me.”
She didn't back away as he expected her to do, but she did soften her voice when she next spoke to him. “May I speak plainly, Connor?”
“No, you may not. You may follow me back to the keep now, however.”
He turned to leave. She stood her ground.
“Are you defying me?” he asked.
“No, Laird, I'm not defying you. I am waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“For you to admit you forgot me.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Then you do not plan to apologize?”
She saw the incredulous look that came over his face and knew the thought had never entered his mind. Dear heavens, changing Connor from a barbarian into a considerate husband was going to take every ounce of her patience. But, she had pushed him far enough today, and she didn't dare add another word of criticism until he'd recovered. In her estimation, it was a fair start.
Connor was considering tossing his wife over his shoulder and carrying her to the keep when she suddenly smiled at him and took hold of his hand. He didn't understand what had caused the transformation, but he didn't question her. He had pushed her far enough for one day, and now that he'd made her realize she must not challenge him or contradict him, he believed he'd made a fair start. He knew it was going to take him a long time to help her learn to be more disciplined.
As soon as he moved back toward the path, she noticed again the soldier standing next to Quinlan.
“Brenna, in future, don't make me chase after you.”
She nodded agreement because her husband seemed to require it, then looked at Quinlan. “He did forget about me, didn't he?”
Connor squeezed her hand to let her know what he thought about her question.
“It would seem he did, mi'lady.”
“Thank you for reminding him.”
“I didn't,” Quinlan replied, nodding to his left. “Crispin did.”
She smiled at the soldier. “Thank you, Crispin.” She would have officially introduced herself to the soldier, but he looked rather dazed, and she decided he was busy thinking about something more important.
Quinlan laughed at the expression on Crispin's face. His friend was looking quite stunned. “She takes your breath away, doesn't she, Crispin?”
The soldier nodded. He motioned to Quinlan to wait so that they could have a moment alone and follow at a more discreet distance.
“I've never seen Connor act this way. He doesn't usually allow any woman to make him lose his patience.”
“She isn't just any woman. She's his wife. I think he likes having her around.”
Crispin smiled. “I'd like having her around too, if I were married to her. She's very beautiful, isn't she? I don't think I've ever seen a woman so bonny.”
“Connor doesn't notice.”
The two men shared a laugh. Brenna glanced back over her shoulder to smile at them.
“Our mistress isn't easily intimidated.” There was admiration in Crispin's voice when he made the remark.
“If she were the least bit timid, Connor would walk all over her. Do you remember what he told us about Isabelle?”
“He told us very little. He doesn't remember his mother.”
“That is so, but he remembers every word his father said to him before he died.”
Crispin nodded. “Donald called his wife his own sweet Isabelle. He loved her.”
“Exactly so.”
“But Donald cautioned his son not to make the same mistake.”
“Connor knew he was only warning him to be careful. If you had seen the way the Lady Brenna and he looked at one another when they first met, you would conclude what I have.”
“And what is that?”
Quinlan stared at Brenna as he gave his answer. “She's going to be Connor's own sweet love.”
Crispin clasped his hands behind his back while he considered what Quinlan had just told him. Like his friend, he also wanted his laird to find peace and contentment. But love? He didn't know if Connor would ever let himself feel such an emotion.
“I've never heard you talk like this.”

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