Highland Velvet

by Jude Deveraux

  “She won’t be harmed,” Roger said. “I promise you I won’t harm her.”

  “Then why hold her? Release her now before there is a full-scale war.”

  “It’s too late for that now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Roger looked back at his little brother. “Raine Montgomery was leading several hundred of the king’s soldiers to Wales when he heard I had Mary. He turned the men and led them toward here to attack us.”

  “What! We are about to be attacked? We have no defenses. Doesn’t he know he can’t lead men like that in these days? We have courts and laws to protect us from attack.”

  “The king met Raine before he could get to us. The king was so angry at Raine’s use of his men in a personal fight that King Henry declared Raine an outlaw. He has retreated to the forest to live.”

  “Good God!” Brian breathed, easing himself into a chair. “We have no defenses such as that massive fortress of the Montgomerys’. If we release Mary—”

  Roger looked at his brother in admiration. “I had not meant to include you in this feud. You must leave here. Go and stay at one of my other estates. I will come to you soon.”

  “No!” Brian said firmly. “We must settle this quarrel. We will send messages to the king and to the Montgomerys. Until then I will personally look out for Mary.” He stood and limped from the room.

  Roger glared at the door after Brian closed it. He ground his teeth in anger, then grabbed a war axe from the wall. He slung the weapon across the room, where it sank into the oak door. “Damn all the Montgomerys,” he cursed. He was glad the king was angry at them. They did nothing but take. They’d taken his sister-in-law’s beauty and half her mind as well. They’d taken all those lands in Scotland that should have been his. And now they worked to take away his brother’s admiration. Brian had never before defied Roger, had never done anything to contradict him. Now Brian thought he could make decisions and tell Roger what to do.

  The door opened and Alice entered. Her gown was of emerald-green satin trimmed with rabbit fur that had been dyed yellow. A veil of tissue-thin silk covered her face. “I just saw Brian,” she said in a quarrelsome voice. “He was helping that Montgomery woman up the stairs. How can you order her from the cellar? A woman like that should be thrown to the dogs.”

  “Brian found her on his own. It was his decision to care for her.”

  “Care for her!” Alice screeched. “You mean you’re going to treat her like a guest like that one upstairs?” She smirked in laughter. “Or are you no longer giving the orders in this house? It looks like Brian is the man of this household now.”

  “You should know all the men, shouldn’t you? From all reports, you’ve had all of them.”

  Alice smiled at him. “Are you jealous? I heard you sent Stephen’s wife from your room last night. Couldn’t you ‘perform’ with her?” she taunted. “Perhaps you should send Brian to do that for you too.”

  “Get out!” Roger said in a low voice that left no doubt of his meaning.

  Bronwyn stared out the window at the snow in the courtyard below. She had been Roger Chatworth’s prisoner for a month, and in that time she saw no one except a maid or two. They brought her food, firewood, clean linen. Her room was cleaned, the chamberpot emptied, but she spoke to no one. She tried to ask the maids questions, but they looked at her with great fear and tiptoed from the room.

  There hadn’t been a method she hadn’t used in attempting to escape. She’d tied sheets together and let herself down the side of the house. But Roger’s guards had caught her when she reached the ground. The next day a man had come and put bars over the window.

  She’d even started a fire to create a diversion, but the guards held her as they put the fire out. She’d made a weapon from the handle of a pewter pitcher and wounded one guard. The two guards were replaced with three, and Roger came and said he’d tie her if she caused him any more problems. She begged Roger for news of Mary. Did the Montgomery brothers know the women were being held captive?

  Roger answered none of her questions.

  Bronwyn sank back into her loneliness. The only thing she had to occupy herself was her memory of Stephen. She had time to go over every moment of their life together, and she knew where she’d make changes. She should have realized a whole race of people couldn’t be as bad as the men who ogled her at Sir Thomas’s house. She shouldn’t have been so angry because Stephen was so interested in her person and not in her clan. She shouldn’t have trusted Roger’s stories so completely.

  No wonder Stephen had said she was selfish. She always seemed to see just one side of a problem. She thought of Stephen with his king, and she knew that when—if—she left Roger Chatworth’s alive, she would go to Kirsty and try to arrange peace with the MacGregor. She owed that to Stephen.

  “Brian, they’re lovely,” Mary smiled, accepting the little leather shoes from him. “You spoil me.”

  Brian looked at her, and the love poured from his eyes. They’d spent most of the last month together. He’d never again asked Roger to release Mary, because Brian didn’t want to see her go. For Mary took away the loneliness in his life. Too often Roger was off to some tournament, and Elizabeth was always locked away in her convent. As for the other women, Brian had long ago learned that women made him feel shy and awkward. Mary was ten years older than he and as unworldly as he. Mary never giggled or asked him to dance or expected him to chase her around the rosebushes. Mary was quiet and simple, demanding nothing from him. They spent the days playing a lute, and sometimes Brian told stories, stories that had always been in his head but he’d never told anyone. Mary always listened and always made him feel strong and protective, something more than just a younger brother.

  It was this new feeling of protectiveness that kept him from telling her that Bronwyn had also been taken as a prisoner. He wasn’t as blindly trustful of his brother as he once was, and he asked the servants questions, wanting to know what went on in his own house. He’d immediately demanded Bronwyn’s release, and Roger had quickly obliged. Now only Mary was held captive.

  “No one could spoil you enough,” he smiled.

  Mary blushed prettily and lowered her lashes. “Come and sit by me. Have you heard any news?”

  “No, nothing,” Brian lied. He knew Raine was still outlawed, still living in a forest somewhere, the head of a gang of ruffians if Alice was to be believed. But Brian never told Mary of Raine’s plight. “It turned colder last night,” he said, warming his hands at the fire in her room. By mutual agreement they never mentioned Roger or Alice. They were two lonely people who came together out of mutual need. Their world consisted of one large, pleasant room on the top floor of the Chatworth house. They had music and art and joy in each other, and neither of them had ever been happier.

  Brian lay back against the cushions of a chair before the fire and thought for the thousandth time how he’d like this to go on always. He never wanted Mary to return to her “other” family.

  It was that evening that Brian spoke of his dreams to Roger.

  “You what?” Roger gasped, his eyes wide.

  “I want to marry Mary Montgomery.”

  “Marry!” Roger staggered back against a chair. To be allied with a family he considered his enemy! “The woman is of the church, you can’t—”

  Brian smiled. “She’s taken no vows. She lives with the nuns as one of them, that’s all. Mary is so gentle. She only wants to help the world.”

  The two men were interrupted by Alice’s high laugh. “Well, Roger, you have certainly done well. Your baby brother wants to marry the older sister of the Montgomerys. Tell me, Brian, how old is she? Old enough to be the mother you’ve always wanted?”

  Brian had never had any reason to experience rage before. He’d always been protected by Roger from most of the unpleasantries of the world, but now he snarled as he went after Alice.

  Roger caught his slight young brother. “There’s no need for that.”

  B
rian looked into Roger’s eyes. For the first time in his life Brian didn’t think his brother was perfect. “You’re going to let her say those things?” he asked quietly.

  Roger frowned. He didn’t like the way Brian was looking at him, so coldly, as if they weren’t the closest of friends. “Of course, she’s wrong. I just think you haven’t thought about this thoroughly. I know you’re young and you need a wife and—”

  Brian jerked away from Roger. “Are you saying I’m too stupid to know what I want?”

  Alice screamed with laughter. “Answer him, Roger! Are you going to let your brother marry a Montgomery? I can hear all of England now. They’ll say you couldn’t get Stephen in the back one way so you got him another. They’ll say the Chatworths take only the leavings of the Montgomerys. I couldn’t get Gavin. You couldn’t get Bronwyn, so you sent your crippled brother after their old-maid sister.”

  “Shut up!” Roger roared.

  “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?” Alice taunted.

  Roger clenched his jaw. “My brother will not marry a Montgomery.”

  Brian pulled himself up to his full height. He was half the size of Roger. “I will marry Mary,” he said firmly.

  Alice laughed again. “You should have put him in charge of the other one. He might have spent his lust on her but at least he wouldn’t be talking of marriage.”

  “What are you talking about, you hag?” Brian demanded. “What other one?”

  Alice glared at him through her veil. “How dare you?” she gasped. “How dare you call me a hag? My beauty was so great that once I wouldn’t have looked at a crippled weakling like you.”

  Roger took a step forward. “Get out of here before I scar your other cheek.”

  Alice snarled at him before she turned to leave. “Ask him about Bronwyn upstairs,” she laughed before she hurried from the room.

  Roger turned to meet Brian’s cold eyes. He didn’t like the way Brian was looking at him. It was almost as if Brian no longer worshipped his big brother.

  “You said you released her,” Brian said flatly. “How many other lies have you told me?”

  “Now, Brian,” Roger began in that special tone he always used for his little brother and sister.

  Brian moved away from him. “I am not a child and I will not be treated as one! What a fool I’ve been! No wonder the Montgomerys don’t attack us. You hold two of their women, don’t you? How could I have listened to you? I never even questioned that whatever you did was right. I was too happy with Mary to even think for myself. But then I’ve always been too busy to think for myself, haven’t I?”

  “Brian, please…”

  “No!” Brian shouted. “For once you’re going to listen to me. Tomorrow morning I’m going to take Mary and Bronwyn back to their family.”

  Roger could feel the hair rising on the back of his neck. “They are my prisoners and you will do no such thing.”

  “Why are they your prisoners?” Brian asked. “Because you attacked Stephen Montgomery’s back? Because you were beaten by him?”

  Roger staggered backward. “Brian, how can you talk to me like this? After all I’ve done for you?”

  “I’m sick of hearing how you saved my life and Elizabeth’s! I’m sick of being grateful to you every moment of my life. I’ve served my time of being your little brother. I’m a grown man now, and I can make my own decisions.”

  “Brian,” Roger whispered. “I never meant to ask gratitude from you. You and Elizabeth have been my whole life. I have no one else. I never wanted anyone else.”

  Brian sighed and his anger left him. “I know you didn’t. You’ve always been good to us, but it’s time now to leave you and get out on my own. I want to marry Mary, and I mean to do it.” He turned away. “Tomorrow I will take the women home.”

  Roger began shaking as soon as Brian left the room. No battle or tournament had ever left him as weak as this confrontation with Brian had. Moment by moment he’d seen his dear, sweet little brother change. He’d seen Brian’s blind adoration of his big brother leave him.

  Roger collapsed in a chair and stared at the tiled floor. Brian and Elizabeth were all he had. The three of them had stayed together, a strong force against Edmund’s evilness. Elizabeth had always been independent. Her angelic face hid a strong nature, and she’d often stood up to Edmund. But Brian had always looked to Roger for love and protection. Brian was content to allow Roger to make all his decisions for him. And Roger loved the role. He loved Brian’s worship of him.

  But tonight he’d seen that adoration drain away. Brian had changed from a sweet, loving young boy into a hostile, demanding, arrogant man.

  And all because of the Montgomerys!

  Roger didn’t know when he started drinking. The wine seemed available, and he took it without a thought for what he did. All he could remember were Brian’s cold eyes and that the Montgomerys had even cost him his brother’s love.

  The more he drank, the more he thought of all the troubles the Montgomerys had caused him. Alice’s lost beauty seemed to be a direct insult to him. After all, she was his relative. Judith and Gavin had toyed with Alice; worst of all, they’d laughed at her—just as they laughed at Roger. He could hear the taunts of the men at court, where he’d gone after his battle with Stephen. “I hear you made a play for that little chieftess of Montgomery’s. Not that I blame you from what I heard, but were you so hot for her you sought her at the cost of Stephen’s back?”

  Over and over the words came back to him. King Henry’s son had just married a Spanish princess, and the king did not want his good mood spoiled by Roger’s unchivalrous activities.

  Roger slammed down his pewter tankard on the chair arm, and a piece of the carving fell away. “Damn them all!” he cursed. Brian was ready to throw away years of love and loyalty for a woman he hardly knew. He thought of Bronwyn’s trick of laughing at him when he’d tried to make love to her. A whore’s trick! Just like Mary’s trick of telling Brian she wasn’t of the church. Brian seemed to think Mary was pure, worthy of marriage, but she was clever enough to be able to seduce an innocent boy ten years her junior. Did she hope to use him to gain her freedom, or was she trying for the Chatworth wealth? The Montgomerys were making a habit of marrying great fortunes.

  Roger rose unsteadily to his feet. It was his duty, as Brian’s guardian, to show his little brother what lying bitches all women were. They were like Alice or Bronwyn. None of them were sweet and gentle, and certainly none were worthy of his brother Brian.

  He staggered out of the room and up the stairs. He had no idea where he was going, and it was only when he reached Bronwyn’s room that he paused. A vision of her black hair and blue eyes floated before him. He remembered every curve of her lush body. He put his hand on the door bolt before he remembered the way her cleft chin jutted up at him in defiance. He moved away from the door. No, he wasn’t drunk enough to be able to withstand her ridicule of him. It wasn’t possible to get that drunk!

  He went up another flight of stairs to the top floor of his house. His problems were caused by that slut who dressed as a nun and enticed his little brother. Her evil ways were causing the break-up of his family. Brian said that tomorrow he was leaving the Chatworth estate. He was going to marry a Montgomery and leave Roger. As if the Montgomerys didn’t have enough family already, they were going to take Roger’s!

  Roger lifted the bolt from the door of Mary’s room. The moonlight was streaming through the window, and a night candle burned by the bed.

  “Who is it?” Mary whispered, sitting up in bed. There was fear in her voice.

  Roger tripped over a chair, then sent it crashing against a wall.

  “Who is it?” Mary said louder, her voice beginning to shake.

  “A Chatworth,” Roger growled. “One of your jailors.” He towered over the bed, looking down at her. Her long brown hair was twisted into a braid. Her eyes were wide with fear.

  “Lord Roger, I…”

  “You what?” he demanded
. “Aren’t you going to welcome me to your bed? Isn’t one Chatworth as good as another? I can release you as well as Brian. Come, let’s see what you have that has enticed my brother so much.”

  Roger grabbed the cover Mary held clutched to her neck and tore it from her. He stared in a glazed way at the prim cotton gown she wore. Most women wore nothing to bed, yet this woman, a harlot supreme, wore a gown. For some reason this only angered Roger more. He grabbed the collar of the gown and tore it off of her. He didn’t notice her body or listen to her when her terrified screams began. All he could hear was Brian saying he was leaving his home for this woman. He’d show Brian what a whore the woman was and that she wasn’t worth his dear little brother’s affection.

  He fell on Mary’s plump, innocent body in a mindless state. He removed only enough of his clothes to perform the deed. Her legs were held rigidly together and he had to pry them open. Her screams had subsided into a whimper of terror. Her body was as rigid as a piece of steel.

  It was no pleasure to rape her. She was dry and tense, and Roger had to pound against her to gain admittance. It was over in seconds. The drink and the emotion he’d spent worked together to exhaust him. He rolled off of her and collapsed on the bed beside her. Now Brian wouldn’t leave him, he thought as he closed his eyes. Next Christmas, Brian, Elizabeth, and he would be together, just as they always had.

  Mary lay quite still as Roger rolled away from her. Her body felt violated, unclean. Her first thought was of her brothers. How could she face them again when she was what Roger had called her over and over, a whore? Brian could never again sit with her, talk to her.

  Very calmly, she rose from the bed. She ignored the pain in her body and the blood on her thighs. With great care she pulled her only gown over her head. It was a simple thing of dark blue wool, a gown the sisters had made for her. She looked about the room for one last time, then walked to the window.