Brides of the North: A Medieval Scottish Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  She took exception to his hands on her arms. Startled by his touch, she struggled to pull away.

  “But…!”

  “Listen to me,” he cut her off with a shake, their struggles increasing as she fought to pull away. “There was no way for Robert to survive. He had a great sucking chest wound that was oozing blood and innards. You could see his lungs inflating through the hole and the arrow had penetrated so far into his torso that it nearly cut his spine in half. He could not feel his legs, my lady. There was no way for the man to move much less crawl away. Trust me when I say he did not survive.”

  His words came out forcefully and brutally, trying to snap some sense into her. Diamantha’s struggles came to a halt and she stared at him, horrified, as the last few words came spilling from his lips.

  Cortez regretted the words before they even left his mouth. From the way Diamantha was staring at him, he knew it had been a mistake to tell her but his determination to make her understand that her husband could not have survived had put a noose around his common sense and severed it. Split, his tactless words had slipped through the gap. So he stared at Diamantha, wondering what damage he had just created.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered when he realized what he had done. “I was attempting… my lady, you must not hold out false hope that Robert survived. There was no way he could have. I am sorry to have explained it to you so harshly. I am sorry if I upset you.”

  Diamantha was in shock. Beyond tears, her mind muddled with distress, she had no other course of action than to pull from his grip, gently but firmly. Then she turned her back on him. She found that she could no longer look at the man.

  “I release you from your promise,” she murmured, moving away from him in a rather staggering gait. “I understand you made the promise to marry me because you had no other choice. It was unfair of Robert to ask it of you. I therefore release you from your promise to take care of me and Sophie.”

  Cortez watched her as she came to an unsteady halt next to the lancet window that overlooked the Dorset countryside to the south. Big gray clouds were blowing in from the sea and he could smell rain upon the wind. But his attention was riveted to the small woman with the miraculous brown hair and brilliant two-toned eyes. She was a truly ravishing creature; he’d always thought so. She was as unique and beautiful as her unusual name, Dee-a-MON-tha. He felt rather disappointed with her statement but knew why she said it. He had offended her. His disappointment grew.

  “Although I understand that you are attempting to be gracious, please understand that I gave my word,” he said quietly. “I cannot go back on my word nor would I. I made your husband a promise that I intend to fulfill.”

  “But I do not want to marry you.”

  “What you want is of no matter. I promised Robert that I would take care of you and your father has consented.”

  “I will not go.”

  “You have no choice.”

  She turned to look at him. Cortez watched her carefully, studying her expression, wondering how she was going to react. He’d hoped to take her back to Sherborne Castle this day but knew, in reality, that it was probably an unrealistic hope. Especially now. As he watched, she silently moved away from the window, walked past him, and left the solar. With a heavy sigh, he followed. Something told him not to let her out of his sight.

  It was a hunch too late.

  CHAPTER TWO

  It was dawn on the second day of Cortez’s visit to Corfe Castle. He had originally come to collect his bride; now it had turned into a standoff. When Diamantha had left the solar yesterday afternoon, she had retreated to her bower and locked the door. Nothing anyone could do or say could coerce or convince her to open it.

  Cortez had been up all night trying to determine the best course of action. As the sun rose in the eastern sky, Cortez found himself wandering the grounds of the mighty castle. His men were camped in the lower bailey, a massive thing that was well removed from the upper bailey and keep. The lower bailey was separated from the upper by an enormous gatehouse and drawbridge, cut into the steep hillside upon which Corfe resided.

  The day dawned lovely and clear in spite of the rain that had fallen during the night. There was no chill in the air, even at this early hour, and it promised to be a brilliant day. Cortez stood in the upper bailey facing west, gazing out over the rolling green hills of Dorset and contemplating his next move. He truly could not fathom the woman’s resistance. Any well-bred lady would have been thrilled at the opportunity for another husband willing to marry her, especially given that she had already been married and had a young child. Cortez simply didn’t understand the reluctance.

  Or perhaps it was that he was simply over-eager. Cortez had distantly known Lady Edlington for years, as she had been a friend of his wife’s. The most prevalent memory of her was that she was clearly the most beautiful woman in the county, if not the whole of England. She had pale skin, pink cheeks, shiny reddish-brown hair and the most amazing eyes he had ever seen. Robert Edlington had been mad for the woman, proud and honored to have been her husband. When Rob had been dying of the nasty chest wound and had asked Cortez to take care of his wife, all Cortez could think of was the woman of unearthly beauty. When he saw her for the first time in several years the night before, he was struck not only by the fact that she had gotten more beautiful, but by her delicious body outlined in the dark blue damask. He hadn’t remembered that part. Everything he saw pleased him immensely.

  But she wanted nothing to do with him. He had been widowed three years and she had been widowed three months. She’d not yet come to terms with what he was already accustomed to. He knew he should give her time but he also knew he was unwilling to wait. He wanted her now and he wanted to return to Sherborne. He knew that once she came to know him, she would no longer be resistant, but they could not come to know each other if she locked herself away.

  He grunted with frustration, shifting on his big legs, when he caught a glimpse of something beside him. Looking to his left, he noticed a very small girl standing next to him. She was an astonishingly beautiful child, gazing up at him with bright blue eyes and long honey-colored hair. It took Cortez a moment to realize he was gazing into Rob Edlington’s face. The little girl was his spitting image. Slightly startled, not to mention curious, Cortez smiled faintly.

  “Greetings,” he said.

  The little girl gazed innocently up at him. “Greetings,” she repeated.

  “Who are you?”

  “Sophie Amalia Teodora Edlington,” she spit out the long name with a charming lisp in her speech. “Who are you?”

  Cortez’s smile grew. “My name is Cortez.” He looked around to see if there was a nurse around. Seeing no one, he peered at her. “Are you alone?”

  She nodded, holding up a poppet made of rags. “This is Rosie.”

  Cortez pretended to greet the doll. “My lady,” he refocused on Sophie. “Did you come outside by yourself?”

  Sophie cuddled the doll. “Aye.”

  “Where is your nurse?”

  She shrugged disinterestedly. “I have a pony,” she announced. “Would you like to see him?”

  Cortez gazed down at her, feeling his heart warm to the child. She was absolutely adorable. “Mayhap later. You should go back inside where it is safe.”

  She reached out and took his hand, tugging. He couldn’t help but follow as she began to pull him across the small upper bailey.

  “My pony’s name is General,” she told him as they headed for the gatehouse that led into the lower bailey. “He came from France. My grandfather bought him for me.”

  The ground sloped sharply towards the rocky and uneven path of the gatehouse. More than once Sophie nearly slipped but managed to keep her footing with Cortez’s substantial help. Cortez followed her, or was rather pulled, to the gatehouse where several Edlington soldiers were stationed. They watched curiously as little Lady Sophie pulled the large figure of Cortez de Bretagne through the gatehouse and onto the drawbridge
that covered the gap between the upper and lower baileys. One of the soldiers came forward as the pair passed through.

  “Is there a problem, my lord?” he asked, his gaze moving between them.

  Cortez lifted his free hand helplessly as Sophie tugged. “I fear I’ve been abducted.”

  “Shall I send for her mother?”

  Cortez looked at the man, an inkling of an idea coming to him. The more he thought on it, the more he settled on the thought. “Aye,” he said slowly. “Send for her mother. Tell her that de Bretagne and her daughter are in the lower bailey and await her.”

  The soldier nodded swiftly and went on the run. Meanwhile, Sophie had pulled him down into the lower bailey where one hundred of the king’s troops were housed, men that served de Bretagne. The stables were lodged against the eastern wall and Sophie took Cortez in that direction. He passed his men along the way, smiling wanly at the collection of confused and amused faces. It was a rather comical sight but no one would dare laugh. Their large and powerful liege was being led around by a toddler, and going quite willingly. As Cortez followed Sophie through a muddy patch, he was joined by a senior sergeant.

  “Am I to assume you are being taken against your will, my lord?” Sergeant Peter Merlin was an older man with a calm, wise manner about him and had served de Bretagne for four years. He nodded his head in Sophie’s direction. “The young lady has you well in hand.”

  Cortez wriggled his dark eyebrows. “She is cutting the circulation off in my fingers,” he said in a low voice. “She is determined to show me her pony.”

  “Ah,” Merlin lifted his eyebrows in understanding.

  Sophie looked up at the tall, pale, red-haired sergeant that had joined them. “Do you want to see my pony, too?” she asked.

  Merlin grinned. “It would be my pleasure, my lady.”

  Pleased, Sophie now had two people willing to view her pony. As the sun rose, so did the temperature and the horse flies were out in force. The smell of the stables grew stronger. Cortez leaned in Merlin’s direction and lowered his tone as they passed into the shadow of the wall.

  “Send my knights to me and prepare the men to leave,” he said. “If all works as it should, we should be heading home within the hour.”

  “But I must see a pony, my lord.”

  “As soon as you see the damnable thing, be gone.”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  Neither man said another word as they entered the stable yards. Sophie confidently pulled Cortez towards the stalls on the north end of the stable. Cortez could see a couple of small gray palfreys and in one of the stalls, a small black and white pony. Sophie let go of his hand long enough to unlatch the stall door and shove it open as much as her little hands would allow.

  “See?” she turned to the men proudly. “This is General.”

  Cortez smiled faintly as he leaned up against the open stall door, gazing down at the fat pony. The pony was eating its morning meal, crunching the grain and nuzzling Sophie with dusty lips. She rubbed the pony’s velvety nose, laughing loudly when his big lips nibbled at her.

  “He is a fine animal,” Cortez said, eyeing Merlin. The man received the silent message and quit the stables as Cortez continued. “Did you give him his name?”

  Sophie nodded; she was no more than a toddler but very bright. She spoke quite well for such a young child. “My Dada calls me Little General. So I named him General.” She looked up at him with those great blue eyes. “Do you know my Dada?”

  Cortez nodded slowly. “I did.”

  She cocked her head thoughtfully and Cortez could literally see the thoughts rolling through her young mind. “He’s been gone a long time,” she said sadly. “Do you know where he is? My mother says he is away. She does not know where.”

  Cortez’s smile faded as he stared down at the little girl. He began to see how Lady Edlington’s grief had spilled over onto her child, unable or unwilling to tell the little girl the truth of her father’s absence. Initially, Cortez felt some irritation about that, but then he simply felt pity. It was obvious that the child missed her father. At that moment, something inside Cortez began to feel the slightest bit of concern and protectiveness over the girl. His own child, had she lived, would have been the same age. It occurred to him that when he married Lady Edlington, he would gain the child he had lost. The realization brought an oddly pleasurable moment.

  He gazed down at her over the top of the stall. “Your father is far away, little one,” he said softly. “He has gone to a place where we cannot go.”

  She stopped petting the pony and walked towards him across the crunchy rushes on the bottom of the stall. “Why not?” she wanted to know. “I want to go where my father is.”

  He reached down and picked her up, holding her against his broad chest. They gazed at each other a moment as if sizing one another up, onyx eyes against brilliant blue. He thought she might actually demand to be set down by the way she was looking at him but, strangely, she did not. She simply stared at him.

  “Your father is in a wonderful place of light and joy,” Cortez said quietly. “He is living with the angels. They are taking great care of him and someday, if you are a very good girl, you will be able to see him again.”

  She stared at him with her bottomless eyes. “Where do the angels live?”

  “In Heaven with God, our Holy Father. Have you not been told this in church?”

  She blinked, thinking. “I do not like church.”

  “You do not like it? Why not?”

  Her brow furrowed. “It is a scary place.”

  He turned away from the pony’s stall and began to move out into the morning sunshine. “Why is it scary?”

  She put her little arms around his neck to hold on. He was very tall, much taller than her father, and Sophie felt as if she were on top of a very high tree, looking down at everything. But she missed her father so much that she rather liked being held by this strange man who had been very kind to her. It made her feel safe and comforted.

  “Because the priest yells,” she said frankly. “He sings scary songs.”

  Cortez laughed softly and patted her chubby little leg. “Aye, they do yell. I think church is a scary place, too.”

  She looked at him, grinning. Cortez winked at her, becoming more enamored with her by the moment. “Now, tell me the truth,” he said gently. “Where is your nurse?”

  She scrunched her nose up, making him laugh again. “I do not know.”

  “You do not know?”

  “Nay.”

  “Hmmm,” he wriggled his eyebrows as they emerged into the sunlight. “Do you think that she is looking for you?”

  Sophie shrugged, averting her gaze by pretending to look at his tunic, and he dipped his head to try and look her in the eye. “Do you think she is frightened that you are missing?” he asked gently.

  Sophie twitched her nose and pursed her lips, torn between guilt and not caring. Cortez didn’t push her. He patted her leg again and passed from the stables into the enormous lower bailey. To the south, he could see his men beginning to break down their encampment; fires were being doused and horses wrangled. Above, white clouds scattered across the sky in the sea breeze blowing in from the south. He could hear the scream of gulls riding the drafts.

  Glancing to his right, he could see the Corfe’s mighty keep soaring to the sky, knowing that somewhere inside, Lady Edlington was being informed that her daughter was with de Bretagne and more than likely having fits over it. He fully expected to see her any moment. But first, he knew it was imperative that he gain Sophie’s cooperation. If he were to accomplish his task, then having the child on his side would be paramount. He didn’t want to create a scene with a terrified mother and child, demanding they accompany him back to Sherborne. What he had to do needed to be done with foresight and care. He had to be sly.

  “Lady Sophie,” he slowed his steps, watching his men efficiently break camp. “Would you like to go on an adventure?”

  She stared a
t him curiously. “An ad… ad…?”

  “Adventure,” he finished for her. He pretended to think. “Let me see; an adventure is something fun, like a journey or mayhap a visit somewhere. Have you ever been away from your home?”

  Sophie shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “I have always been here or to church.”

  “Where it is scary.”

  “Aye.”

  He wriggled his eyebrows. “I live in a place called Sherborne Castle. My castle is a big place with many ponies and dogs and rabbits. It is surrounded by a big lake. But it is a sad place.”

  He had her interest; she was focused on his words. “Why is it sad?”

  “There is no princess there.”

  “No princess?”

  He nodded. “I need a princess so that my home will not be sad. Would you like to be the princess of my castle?”

  Sophie’s big eyes glittered with the possibilities. Before she could reply, Cortez caught sight of people spilling forth from the upper bailey. He was not surprised to see Lady Edlington leading the pack. Clad in a dual-colored surcoat of deep blue and pale green, like the colors of her eyes, she approached with a stricken look on her face.

  The sea breeze had picked up, streaming her beautiful hair behind her like a banner. It also plastered her garment against her body, affording Cortez and any other man who happened to notice her, an unobstructed view of her magnificent figure. She had large breasts, more than likely due to childbearing, and a tiny waist. Cortez was torn between absorbing the lines of her spectacular body and gazing into her magnificent face. There was nothing about the woman that was imperfect.

  But he forced himself away from thoughts of her body, realizing he had been correct in using her daughter to coerce her to leave her chamber. He could have laid siege to the keep for days and never achieved what one tiny girl had managed to accomplish in a matter of minutes. Lady Edlington came straight at him and held out her arms.

  “Give me my baby,” she demanded quietly.

  Cortez’s gaze was cool. He looked at Sophie, who was staring down at her mother. Surprisingly, the little girl didn’t immediately reach for her mother. Cortez ignored the demand.