A Hint of Heather

by Rebecca Hagan Lee

  “What’s that?”

  “We buy or barter food from somewhere else.”

  “With the exception of the Sutherland and the Munros, our neighbors don’t have enough food to spare and even if they did, we’ve nothing to offer in return.”

  “You have coin,” he reminded her. “You can pay.”

  “I’ll not pay the Sutherland or the Munros for grain and livestock they stole from us!”

  “Then we’ll just have to resort to raiding and steal what we need.” He waited for Jessalyn to say something and when she didn’t, Neil followed the line of her gaze to where her plaid was tied about his waist. He moved the silver key she’d hung around his neck to one side and scratched idly at the hair on his chest, then rolled his broad shoulders, stretched mightily and watched from beneath the cover of his eyelashes as Jessalyn devoured him with her eyes. He smiled and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The tartan slipped a bit lower and he knew that the jutting prominence of his male member was practically all that kept it from sliding to the ground. He didn’t like displaying himself so boldly, but he liked the idea of sleeping alone even less. And he’d stroll through the village naked if that’s what it took to make her take notice of him and the bit of paradise he could offer her. After all, it was only fair that she be as aware of him as he was of her.

  Jessalyn’s breath came in shallow gasps as she focused her gaze on her husband’s narrow hips. She forgot about anger. Forgot about hunger and the gnawing in her belly. She forgot about everything except the swath of fabric that kept Neil from finding himself completely exposed. The tartan tied about his waist had dipped dangerously low. And although an evil imp of female curiosity wanted the worn fabric to slide off his hips, down his long legs and onto the ground, Jessalyn held her breath and prayed that it would stay knotted.

  “Right, wife?” He repeated, reaching out to touch her arm.

  “What?” She snatched her arm and her gaze away from him.

  “I said that if our neighbors refuse to sell us the food we need in order to survive until our man returns from Edinburgh with provisions, then we’ll follow MacInnes clan tradition.”

  “What do you know of MacInnes traditions?” she snapped.

  “I know more about MacInnes customs than most Sassenachs. Especially the time-honored tradition of taking what you want or need by raiding.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “That’s how I came to have the MacInnes as my wife.”

  “Do you think of me as your wife after only one day and night of marriage?” she asked, softly, searching his green eyes for the truth.

  “Aye,” Neil replied in his best Scots burr. “As does the priest who married us and the women who spent an inordinate amount of time examining the proof of the bedding.”

  “You and they may think it,” she answered. “But I don’t feel it. You took my virginity, but you failed to live up to your boast and make me feel like a wife.”

  “On the contrary,” Neil retorted. “I think you feel very much like a wife. My failure to live up to my boast and my reputation ensured that.” He leaned closer and whispered. “On her wedding night, a bride shouldn’t feel frustrated or neglected. Nor should she feel she has to endure the marriage bed. On her wedding night, a bride should feel cherished like a lover or a favorite mistress.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” she muttered beneath her breath. “When you’re all words and no action.”

  “What was that?”

  “I said—” She lifted her chin a notch. “—that you failed on all accounts, my lord.”

  “Aye,” he agreed. “I failed you on your wedding night and that’s what has you in such a fine temper.” He followed her fascinated gaze and rubbed at the mark on his left shoulder.

  “I’m not …” she protested, casting a guilty glance at the dark purple bruise on his left shoulder—the bruise she’d inflicted when she’d bitten him—repaying him in kind for the pain and frustration she’d suffered.

  “Oh, yes, you are,” he said. “But, my dear MacInnes, we can remedy that. You’re welcome to pleat my tartan and touch me any time and any way you like.”

  “No, thank you, my lord,” she replied sharply. “Once is quite enough.”

  “You’re refusing to do your wifely duty?”

  “I’ve done my duty to my clan,” she answered, “by marrying you. That’s all I care about.”

  “What of your duty to provide the clan with an heir?”

  She looked surprised.

  “The purpose of marriage,” Neil reminded her, “is to sanctify the union of a man and a woman and to produce legal offspring to inherit as opposed to bastards who do not. You said you wanted children. Three or four, I believe.”

  Jessalyn lifted her chin a notch higher. “I’m quite certain I’ve fulfilled my obligation. You look healthy and I’ve no doubt that I’m with child.”

  “Then, I suppose the sight of me dressed—or rather, undressed like this won’t bother you.” He gave her a rueful frown.

  “You don’t have to dress in that manner,” she protested, glancing down at the haphazard way he’d tied his garment. “Tam or Alisdair or Dougal or any of the other men can help you pleat your tartan. They can show you the proper way to wear it.”

  Neil grinned at her. “Oh no, Mac,” he said. “The pleating of my tartan every morning is your responsibility and I cannot allow you to shirk your wifely duties so easily. I didn’t marry Tam or Alisdair or Dougal or any of the other men,” he echoed her earlier phrase. “I married you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Yer a bold and darin’ mon to taunt her that way,” Auld Tam said to Neil when Jessalyn turned on her heel and hurried across the bailey and into the castle.

  Neil faced the old warrior. “Why not taunt her? The worst that will happen is that the temperature of the top half of my body will match the freezing temperatures of my feet and my nether regions.”

  “Our winters can get very cold, lad.” Tam reached under his bonnet and scratched his pate. “She may look tender and soft, but our wee Jessie can be as tough and as stubborn as her father was.”

  Neil smiled. “I wouldn’t expect otherwise.”

  Tam raised an eyebrow at that.

  “Look at her, man,” Neil ordered, nodding his head in Jessalyn’s direction, watching as she reached the castle doors. “She’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, but she’s barely a head taller than the children running around the village and so bloody malnourished that I can almost see through her flesh. There isn’t a weak bone in her body. She couldn’t have survived this long if she wasn’t as tough and tenacious, as fearless and as proud as any Scots warrior you ever placed on a field of battle.”

  Auld Tam heard the pride in Neil’s voice. “Aye, she’s a right bonny lass.”

  “A right bonny lass?” Neil couldn’t believe his ears. “As far as I’m concerned, she’s the best thing this bloody country has ever produced.”

  Neil hadn’t realized he’d admitted so much of his private thoughts aloud until he turned from his leisurely perusal of the sway of the MacInnes’s hips and discovered Dougal, Alisdair, and Auld Tam grinning like fools.

  “We feel the same way aboot you and England, lad,” Alisdair cackled.

  Unable to contain his curiosity, Dougal asked, “How are ye going to get Jessie to do her duty?”

  “I’m not,” Neil declared. “And neither are you.” He gave the three old men a sharp look. “You’re not to attempt to persuade her or coerce her or blackmail her into it. You’ve meddled in her life enough.”

  “But, laddie …” Alisdair began.

  “No, buts, Alisdair,” Neil said firmly. “You trusted her father enough to accept me as his choice for her. You helped make me her husband and now, you must trust me to do what’s best. The MacInnes has done her duty to her father, her clan, her church and to her husband. She has earned the right to vent her spleen and take her time deciding how to go forward with our marriage.”
<
br />   “But you just told her that you wouldn’t allow her to shirk her wifely duties,” Dougal protested.

  “Aye,” Neil agreed, “I did, but I’m not going to try to break the MacInnes’s spirit. When she agrees to do her wifely duty, it must be because she chooses to do so—because she wants to.”

  Alisdair shook his head. “I dinna understand. If yer not going to force her or shame her or persuade her into doing her duty, how are ye gonna accomplish it?”

  “I’m going to tempt her into it,” Neil announced, grinning broadly.

  The three jaws of the Ancient Gentlemen dropped open simultaneously.

  “Yer what?” Dougal sputtered.

  “I’m going to tempt her into it and if that means running around the village buck naked and allowing every female in the vicinity to tweak the MacInnes’s jealousy by ogling me, then it will be worth it.”

  “Oh, they’ll be ogling ye, laddie, if this mornin’s anything to go by.” Auld Tam began to chuckle. “Yer playin’ with fire.”

  “Yes, I know,” Neil said. “But so is she. I’m English and I know that in many ways, the MacInnes still sees me as the enemy, but I belong to her as much as she belongs to me. Eventually she’ll want to claim me. In the meantime, I intend to do everything I can to encourage her.”

  “But ye said that we mustna attempt to persuade her,” Alisdair reminded him.

  “That’s right,” Neil agreed. “I said that the three of you must not do anything to try to persuade her. I didn’t say I couldn’t or wouldn’t.”

  “Bloody Sassenachs,” Dougal grumbled to his companions in Gaelic. “Always twistin’ words around to suit themselves.”

  “Now, mon,” Auld Tam soothed his friend, “this time, he’s right. Unless he begins mistreatin’ the lass, we canna meddle in his marriage. We’re actin’ in Callum’s stead and even Callum couldna interfere once the vows were spoken.”

  He didn’t understand the language, but Neil recognized the hostility in Dougal’s tone of voice and the glares the older man sent his way. He also understood that Auld Tam had settled into his customary role of intermediary. He placed his hand on Tam’s arm and asked for a translation.

  “Dougal wants to make certain that yer methods of persuadin’ are gentlemanly,” Auld Tam said.

  Neil met Dougal’s gaze and shook his head. “I’m afraid my methods will be more mercenary than gentlemanly.” He gave a self-derisive snort. “After last night, I’m very much aware that the only thing I’ve done to impress the MacInnes so far is to produce a significant amount of coin as a wedding gift and I intend to capitalize on that.” He turned to Tam. “Yesterday, you told me that you’d already sent word of my abduction to the marquess of Chisenden.”

  “Aye,” Auld Tam answered warily.

  “And the MacInnes told me she’d sent a man to Edinburgh this morning with money to buy provisions.”

  “Aye.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Neil said. “Because we’ll need to send another to the marquess with a note from me requesting—” He halted his words when he saw the disbelieving looks on the faces of the three older men. “You can read it before I seal it if that suits you.” At their nod, Neil continued, “—more supplies than the coins I gave the MacInnes will buy. In addition to flour and sugar and salt and molasses and oats and dried meat and fish, we need cattle and sheep and horses and chickens and geese and fishing boats and nets and …” He glanced at the men, silently asking for suggestions.

  “A good Scots blacksmith,” Alisdair said.

  “We’ll also need firearms with powder and shot and other weapons for hunting and for defense …” Neil added.

  “Even the marquess of Chisenden canna send firearms,” Alisdair warned. “To do so would violate the king’s own edict against arming hostile clans.”

  “As of yesterday, Clan MacInnes cannot be considered a hostile clan, but an ally of the marquess of Chisenden and therefore, an ally of the crown,” Neil reminded them. “And,” he lowered his voice until it was barely above a whisper, “you had no way of knowing I’d be confined to my quarters and guarded by Corporal Stanhope and Sergeant Marsden when you planned my abduction, but by freeing me and abducting the others, you’ve ensured that I’ll be wanted for escaping and the corporal and the sergeant will be wanted for helping me. We’ll be condemned and hunted down by the commanding officer at Fort Augustus.”

  “You couldna escaped,” Auld Tam scoffed. “I had to cut you loose.”

  “But will they be able to tell that you cut me loose and that Sergeant Marsden and Corporal Stanhope did not?” Neil asked.

  “Of course they can tell. We dinna bother to hide the pony tracks when we breached the gap in the wall. We only hid them once we reached the moor. Any fool should be able to see the pony tracks and know ye were abducted.”

  Neil snorted. “Major General Oliver is a fool. But that won’t matter, because he’s only going to see what he wants to see. And he’ll want to see that I escaped.”

  “Why?” Dougal asked.

  “Because he hates me.”

  The three Ancient Gentlemen sighed in unison. “We dinna know.”

  “You couldn’t have known of the enmity between Spotty Oliver and me,” Neil said ruefully. “Even my grandfather doesn’t know the full extent of it. But I do. Major General Oliver won’t rest until he has me clamped in irons once again or swinging from the nearest gibbet. That’s why we must have the firearms. We must be able to defend the castle and the village—from Oliver and from anyone else who will want to take what we have.”

  Auld Tam reached up under his bonnet and scratched his head in a gesture Neil was beginning to recognize as an indication of Tam’s level of agitation.

  “Fortunately, I made my distaste of Scotland well known. We should have a few weeks to prepare before Scotty realizes I’m not cozily ensconced in my London townhouse and begins looking to the highlands for other possibilities.” Neil rubbed his hands together. “What else will we need?”

  The three older men looked at each other.

  “If we’re all out of ideas,” Neil suggested, “why don’t we ask the women?”

  Alisdair looked up and caught his wife’s eye, then motioned for Davina to join the group before he asked her what the women of the clan needed from Edinburgh.

  “Spindles and looms,” Davina replied, laundry basket resting on her hip as she joined the conversation. “And bolts of cloth and packets of needles and pins and buttons and soap and leather goods and a cobbler.”

  Neil looked askance at the last suggestion. “I was told that going without shoes is a highland tradition.”

  “Aye, it ’tis in the summer months,” she answered. “But, in truth, like the English, we prefer shoes and stockings durin’ the cold winter months.”

  Neil smiled at the honest reply as he wiggled his bare toes against the dirt. “I’m thrilled to hear it.” He lowered his voice to address the small group. “There is something else. The MacInnes must believe that the coin I gave her was used to purchase everything except the personal items I intend to buy for her. She must think her man in Edinburgh is the most skillful bargainer Scotland has ever produced, because I cannot risk hurting her pride. We’ll explain the appearance of the personal gifts by convincing the MacInnes that I asked you to send a message to my grandfather requesting that a proper dowry be provided and sent for presentation to my bride. Agreed?”

  “You think to buy our wee Jessie’s favor with English goods and fancy clothes?” Dougal snorted.

  “I mean to court her the way she should have been courted before we were wed,” Neil replied. “And all women appreciate fine gowns and jewels.”

  “Not our Jessie. You’d get further with her if you gave her a crew of stonemasons to repair the castle than you will with clothes and jewels.”

  “Then I’m in luck.” Neil grinned. “Because I happen to be a very good architect. I’m much better at building, repairing and fortifying buildings than I am at wooing. An
d procuring a crew of stonemasons to help repair my lady’s castle is a feat I should have no trouble accomplishing.” He caught sight of the smug looks that passed between the three older men. “Especially since there will be no interference from the three of you or the marquess of Chisenden to prevent the crew of stonemasons and the shipments of stone from showing up—as happened at Fort Augustus.”

  “Yer willin’ to rebuild that crumbling old castle to win Jessie’s heart?” Auld Tam asked.

  “If that’s what it takes,” Neil said.

  It was almost as if his words catapulted the others into action. “Alisdair, go keep an eye on Jessie,” Tam instructed. “And Dougal, send young Ian to catch Ranald before he leaves for Edinburgh.”

  Neil lifted an eyebrow. “I thought he’d already left.”

  Auld Tam shrugged his shoulders. “Davina, fetch a pen and parchment and sealing wax from Father Moray so the earl can send a message to his grandfather.”

  Auld Tam waited until the others had hurried to do his bidding before turning to the younger man. He clamped a hand on Neil’s shoulder. “Ye had me worried yesterday, laddie, and doubtin’ Callum’s choice in allying us with a Sassenach—even one as rich and powerful as the marquess of Chisenden, but today, I’m proud to say he made the right decision.”

  “What changed your mind about me?”

  “Every Sassenach I’ve ever known has used force to get his way. It would be verra simple fer a strong mon like you to break Jessie’s spirit, but ye’ve shown that yer willin’ to humble yerself in order to protect it.”

  “I may be Sassenach and I may have only known her one day, but my grandfather taught me to recognize a person’s strengths as well as their weaknesses. The MacInnes deserves to have a man build a castle for her,” Neil knelt down on the ground, picked up a stone and idly began to trace the outline of a small feminine footprint until he’d dug a small groove around it. “Her spirit, her courage, her strength, her compassion and her loyalty to the members of her clan are some of the things I admire most about her.”