Adventures of a Highlander

by Emilia Ferguson

  Amice shook her head. “Of course not. It would be a pleasure.”

  “And,” Leona said, frowning, “I have to give you your gift now, Amice. For whatever the reason – and we still want to hear of it, as that goes – it seems you have run out of clean clothes.”

  Amice blushed. Henry felt a moment's affront. Amice looks beautiful in that linen dress, he wanted to say. You've upset her.

  Then, Amice laughed, making him smile. “Cousin, you have always had sharp eyes. Yes, I did mislay my clothes. As a matter of fact, we were the victims of an accident,” she said, turning to Henry.

  Henry nodded, thinking fast. It seemed safe enough to tell them of the fire. It could easily have been an accident, though he suspected it was meant to send him to his end.

  “The inn in which Lady Amice and I were lodging caught fire,” he explained.

  “Oh!” Leona covered her mouth in horror. “My dears! How frightening.”

  Henry felt himself smile. Then, quickly, he looked about the room, but the only other occupants seemed to be captains, farmers, or merchants, and none of them were listening in.

  Amice smiled at her. “We escaped unscathed. Henry saved me.”

  Henry blushed. “It was nothing, I assure you.”

  “Nonsense, Henry,” Amice said fondly.

  Henry saw Conn and Leona watching them. Leona was smiling and Conn chuckled.

  “Well, well done, my friend,” he said, holding out his hand to Henry. “A man who saved my dear cousin is a man to whom I am indebted. My thanks.”

  Amice blushed and Henry shook his head. “I would have given my life to save her,” he said sincerely. As the words left his lips, he realized they were completely true. He looked into Amice's eyes and she looked back into his. He felt the whole room slipping away, everything ceasing to make sense but her presence and the love that shone in her brown eyes.

  Conn said something. Henry blinked. He had completely forgotten where he was – forgotten everything, in fact, except Amice and how he felt when he saw her.

  “Sorry, my lord?” he said to Conn. Conn grinned.

  “Please, call me Conn. What I said was that it's a shame you came all this way and didn't visit the capital while you were here. I'm sure there's plenty to see there. And it will be something new for both of you, I think.”

  Amice glanced at Henry. He tensed. He had, in fact, just been in Edinburgh and was fairly sure that if he showed his face, someone might recognize him and seize him for a spy. Amice cleared her throat.

  “We ought to return home,” she said wistfully. “Though I would have liked to see the palace. I believe it is a grand sight.”

  “It is,” Conn nodded. While they talked, the innkeeper had brought tankards of mulled ale, pies, and mutton, and trenchers had appeared with them. Conn lifted his ale and drank appreciatively. “Mm. It is a pity you didn't see it. Now, I think I shall carve that pie.”

  “Please, do,” Leona said. They all laughed.

  As Conn helped them all to pieces of pie, Henry spoke up. “Mayhap we can remedy that,” he said slowly. Amice frowned.

  “You mean...”

  “I mean, I do have acquaintance in the town. If we returned, we could spend a day in Edinburgh. If you so chose?” Henry asked.

  Amice looked at him with big round eyes. He would do anything for that face, he decided. The faint chance of being seized became somehow unimportant. He laughed.

  “Henry?” she stared. “Could we..?”

  “Of course we could,” he said sincerely. “Now. I can smell something mouthwatering. So, if you will excuse me, I must sample this.”

  They all laughed and watched as Henry tried the mutton pie. He closed his eyes, chewing blissfully as the taste of rich, herb-flavored gravy overwhelmed his tongue. He sighed.

  “Absolutely wonderful.”

  They all laughed and Conn banged the table, the heavy signet ring of Annecy thudding on the wood where he wore it on the index finger of his right hand. “Well. There's a good sign.” He grinned at the rest of the company. “A Frenchman who likes Scottish food.”

  They all laughed. Henry looked around, worried that he might have alerted people to his foreignness – Conn was about as subtle as a bear in a bad mood – but none of the other diners were paying them heed. He relaxed.

  After lunch, they went with Conn and Leona back to the customs house. Conn said his farewells and headed off to find the captain of the Sea Shanty. Leona embraced her cousin and passed on a wooden box of presents.

  “I hope they won't be a burden,” she said, blushing.

  Henry raised a brow, but Amice shook her head. “We'll find somewhere to put them. Everyone will be so pleased with them.”

  We'll redistribute them in some saddlebags, Henry decided quickly.

  “And now,” Leona said softly, “this is for you.”

  Henry stepped back out onto the stairs, sensing he was intruding on something personal. All the same, he was just in time to catch the look of delight on Amice's face as her cousin passed her a package.

  “Oh, cousin! It's beautiful! Oh, I can't possibly...”

  “Take it,” Leona's voice said firmly as Amice protested, cutting her off. “It's just right. Look how it suits you. And it's so fashionable! You'll be the toast of every ball.”

  As he heard it, Henry decided he wanted to see the gown. She would likely look beautiful. He also wanted to escort her somewhere the first chance he got.

  Amice came down the stairs, flushed, eyes shining with tears. Leona followed.

  “Oh, cousin,” Amice said, embracing her. Her voice was muffled with Leona's shoulder as she whispered, “go safely.”

  “Thank you.” Leona was also blinking rapidly, her beautiful face tight with constrained weeping. Henry looked away.

  He went through to the entrance while the women said their goodbyes, and then looked up as Amice came to join him.

  “We should go now, Henry,” she said. Her voice was still wobbly and he wanted to hug her. He stopped himself, barely.

  “Yes, my lady.” He nodded.

  He looked up as Leona came into the hallway, and bowed to her.

  “It was an honor to meet you, my lady.”

  “I was pleased to meet you, too,” she said softly. “Take care of my cousin, sir.”

  He nodded. “With all my heart.”

  He looked up into Amice's brown eyes. He swallowed hard. The sweetness in her face tore his heart. Yes, he would take care of her. With all his heart. Always.

  Later, they rode into town together. Amice was crying, thin silvery tracks scoring her pretty cheeks. Henry wanted to stop to comfort her, but they had to get on if they wanted to reach Edinburgh before the early sunset.

  “I miss them already.”

  “I'm sure,” Henry comforted her, riding up closer. They still had no saddles, though they had managed to buy two bridles from the innkeeper. They were inferior work and Henry knew he'd paid overmuch, but he was glad to have them. Besides, the man wasn't a harness maker – it was kind of him to part with any.

  “I wish they could have stayed.”

  “They can come back,” Henry said gently. “And next time mayhap they'll bring the babies, and then they'll stay for much longer; yes?”

  Amice laughed. “Oh, Henry. You're such a comfort.”

  Henry glowed inside. “Thank you, my lady.”

  They shared a smile.

  As they rode up towards Edinburgh, they found themselves caught up in a stream of traffic. Donkeys, laden with wares, huge carts, drawn by big shaggy-footed horses, men with handcarts piled with turnips, cabbages, onions, beets, and chestnuts.

  “The vagaries of city life,” Henry murmured. Amice laughed.

  “I've never seen so much of anything in one place!”

  “Oh, my dear lady,” he murmured. “Wait till we get inside.”

  As he said it, he realized that he had never called anyone that before. He blushed. He saw her smile as if she'd seen a rainb
ow and his heart filled with light.

  “I...” she stammered. “Thank you for saying we could come here, Henry.”

  He smiled. “The pleasure is mine.”

  He meant it. As they rode through the great city gates, the rows of houses, shoulder-to-shoulder along the cobbled road, opened up before them and Amice stared.

  She rode closer to Henry, seeming nervous. Her leg bumped his where he sat on horseback and he tensed, feeling the contact jolt through his body. He reached across and his fingers touched her knee. He closed his eyes at the intimate touch and quickly withdrew his hand.

  Amice looked at him, a mix of shyness and pleasure on her face that made his loins harden with need. He looked quickly away and focused on the streets around.

  “We're heading up toward the castle now,” Henry said softly.

  “Oh!” Amice straightened and looked about.

  They were passing along a narrow-cobbled way, the tall wattle-and-daub buildings hemming them in on both sides. Henry breathed in, noticing the odor of the city – smoke, cooking, and a faint undertone of decay. With so many people in one place, wastewater was a problem. Though as they rode up towards the cathedral, the smell abruptly disappeared, replaced by the scent of wet cobbles and cleanness.

  The cathedral. Henry had seen it just recently, but it was still breathtaking. With its massive towers, the gray stone building seemed to loom up to the sky. He swallowed, feeling small before it. He glanced at Amice, who was staring at it.

  “It's...” she shook her head. “Henry, I've never seen anything like it.”

  He swallowed, feeling a glow of pride. It was as if he had made it. He laughed. “I'm glad you like it.”

  “It's beautiful,” she murmured.

  Henry was sitting close to her. He reached out a hand to take hers. She tensed, but didn't pull away. He smiled.

  “It is. Very beautiful.”

  She blushed.

  They rode on together down the widening street. Here, the place had a carefree atmosphere. There were stalls and booths set up, and people hawked wares under the sharp eye of the market police. There were beggars and merchants, performers, farmers, and traders. Leather-workers, smiths, and people selling flowers and pies and chestnuts everywhere.

  Amice breathed in, and Henry guessed the scent of roasted chestnuts was making her mouth water as much as his. He grinned.

  “Would you like some?”

  She nodded eagerly. “Yes, please.”

  He slid down from the saddle and passed over a slightly bent coin to the stallholder, who took it eagerly. He handed them a measure of the hot, spicy nuts in a twist of sackcloth. Henry thanked him and passed the bag up to Amice.

  “It's quite hot,” he warned.

  Amice took a chestnut out eagerly, and popped it in her mouth, breathing out at the heat of it. Henry laughed.

  “They are hot!” she giggled. “And delicious.”

  They both dismounted and led their horses through the thronging streets, heading on and up toward the castle.

  A grim edifice, it stood on the hilltop. Henry could just see it, sticking up above the red tiles and thatch of the houses. He shivered. One place I don't want to be is in that grim-looking place again.

  The home of Queen Yolande, the current monarch, it was nonetheless a foreboding fortress and not the sort of place one wanted to be, were one an enemy or even suspected as one.

  One escape is good enough for me.

  Henry shivered again and glanced across at Amice. She was busy eating chestnuts, laughing at the antics of a street performer. He felt his heart glow. He wasn't going to put himself in needless danger now – he had too much to live for.

  The thought surprised him. He cleared his throat. “If you look up there, you can see the castle. Would you like to go into the cathedral, perhaps?”

  Amice frowned, thinking about it. “Mayhap later,” she decided. “First, I want to see more of the market!”

  Henry laughed. “Well! I am happy to oblige. And with some luck, we'll find someone selling saddles.”

  “Good idea, Henry.”

  He smiled.

  They passed down the narrow rows between stalls. Henry noticed Amice draw in a breath.

  “What is it?”

  “Those silks. I have to have a closer look!”

  Henry smiled as he followed her gaze. There was a merchant's stall, a blaze of color in the otherwise gray and brown patchwork around them. He nodded. “Those are nice.”

  “Oh, yes!” Amice nodded. “I can only imagine what Aunt Chrissie would say if she saw that blue!” she studied the fabrics a while, then turned to him. “Can I please look? It'll only be a moment.”

  “Of course.” Henry nodded.

  He followed Amice over to the stand and, as he did so, heard someone draw in a breath beside him. He turned. Found himself looking into a familiar face.

  That could be a very bad thing, Henry reflected. However, as it turned out, it wasn't.

  “My lord Henri!” the man said. He was laughing. “Sir! How lovely to see you!”

  Henry searched his brain and was grateful as the name returned to him. “Lord Adair! How wonderful to see you.”

  The man – a young man, perhaps a year or two his junior – had hazel-gold eyes and rich red hair. He shook Henry's hand vigorously, and then stared at Amice.

  Henry felt a smile lift the corner of his lip as the man bowed extravagantly. He can see it too. Of course he can. She is so beautiful, and I'm proud to have her company.

  All the same, as Lord Adair, son of the Duke of Cullver, introduced himself, he felt a stab of envy.

  “My lady. I am honored. Please, Lord Henri, do me the honor of an introduction to the lady?”

  Henry cleared his throat, feeling impatient. “Lady Amice, meet Lord Adair, son of the Duke of Cullver. Adair, this is Lady Amice of...” he came to a halt, feeling foolish.

  “Of Dunkeld,” she filled in immediately.

  “Yes,” Henry nodded. “Of there.”

  Adair laughed. “I understand our Scots is a challenge for minds used to French,” he said smoothly. He himself spoke fluent French, as did many Scots nobles. The queen herself was French, after all, and it was the language of nobility. Henry himself spoke French because of that, though while seafaring his had gone a little rusty.

  “Quite,” he murmured. Amice laughed.

  “It is indeed, my lord. Though you are an able speaker.”

  Henry felt himself frown and wiped it away. Amice was just being polite, he told himself firmly. He wasn't going to get jealous. He wasn't.

  “It's a remarkable coincidence we met here,” Adair was continuing. “Especially since we are hosting a ball at my father's residence. I would be honored if the two of you could join us.”

  He was looking at Amice first, though he turned to include Henry in the statement. Henry gave a small smile. The man was smitten.

  Amice had gone flushed and Henry decided immediately.

  “We would be honored to attend,” he said smoothly. He had wanted such an opportunity, he realized suddenly. And here it was!

  Amice gave him a dazzling smile. He felt his heart glow. It was worth it. Any danger to himself...anything. He would do anything for that smile.

  “Oh, Henri!” she said, using the French form of his name again. “It's so exciting.”

  He smiled. “I hope so, my dear.”

  Adair looked at both of them and smiled. “Well, then! I think we will have a merry time.”

  “Yes,” Henry nodded. “I also think so.”

  The two of them talked to Adair for a while, but when another noble came to fetch him, saying something about watching a tournament, he politely left.

  Henry looked at Amice, who smiled.

  “Well, dear,” he said. “I will be honored to escort you to a ball after all.”

  A BALL AND BEAUTY

  Amice stood in the lodgings Lord Adair had given them at his father's manor. She looked at the oak-panele
d room, amazed by the sudden change in their fortunes. How was it possible that only a night ago they had been in the forest, cold and hungry? Now they were in a mansion. Preparing for a ball.

  It seems life is full of surprises.

  As she thought it, it felt as if a memory flickered through her mind. Tentative and glistening, like the light on water, it sparked, briefly, and then withdrew. Something about surprises. She shook her head. A knock sounded at the door just then, and she went to open it.

  “Oh! Milady!” a maid said, her voice shrill with surprise. “Sorry to disturb. Only, the master said I should come and help you dress.”

  “Oh.” Amice smiled. That was kind. It had been over a week since she had anyone to help her dress. And if she was going to wear the dress she hoped for, it would be very helpful. “That would be nice.”

  The maid blushed. “Oh, 'tis nothing.”

  Half an hour later, Amice stared at her reflection. She was wearing the dress Leona gave her; a yellow-gold color, made of velvet and belted at the waist with a kirtle of cream silk. With her hair brushed and glossy, she shone in auburn and gold. She stared.

  Is that really me?

  She twirled in the mirror, feeling the heavy velvet sway and sweep against her legs. It felt wonderful. She couldn't keep the smile off her face. She felt excited.

  There was a sound of footsteps in the hallway and Amice turned to the door, long hair swinging around her. She stared.

  Henry was in the hallway, just outside the open door. He was looking at her with such an expression on his face that she felt color flood her cheeks.

  “Henry!” she smiled, pleased to see him.

  He shook his head. “My lady.” He grinned. “I'm speechless.”

  Amice smiled warmly. “Oh, Henry.” She felt such warmth fill her chest. She couldn't have been happier. She looked at him, feeling proud too. He was dressed in a new tunic in a blue so dark it was almost black. It brought out the sapphire blue of his eyes. With trews of white wool and a white wool cloak, he looked like a prince from a tale.

  They went down the staircase together. Amice swallowed hard as they descended into the hall. She could see a crowd of people assembled there, the torchlight and firelight shining off dresses of velvet, fine wool tunics, and the gloss of elegantly-styled hair. She felt suddenly nervous and reached unconsciously for Henry. His fingers closed round hers and her heart stopped thudding.