Brides of the North: A Medieval Scottish Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Oliver took the little girl, who was asking to see the puppies again. He fled the hall with the child in his arms as Cortez went to stand between his wife and father. All the while, the legendary de Bretagne temper was rising, like a cauldron about to boil, and by the time he faced his father, he was purely mad with rage. He simply couldn’t believe all of the slander he was hearing, from his own father no less, shocking and uncalled for. It was difficult to remain in control.

  “I could forgive you if you were drunk or insane, but you are neither,” he growled. “You have insulted my wife in the worst possible way, for crimes committed almost one hundred years ago that she had nothing to do with. Have you lost your damn mind? What reasonable man would blame someone for the crimes of their ancestors?”

  Gorsedd was enraged beyond control. He pointed a finger at Diamantha as she cowered behind Drake. “Look at her eyes,” he hissed. “You can see that she has his eyes. She has his devil eyes. Everyone knew of de Velt’s two-colored eyes, eyes through which Satan worked. And now you bring this… this horror into my home? She must be purged and you must be cleansed!”

  Cortez snapped. He charged forward and grabbed his father around the neck. Andres, seeing the confrontation turning physical, leapt over the table and grabbed Cortez just as James ran forward to help pull the two men apart. But Cortez would not be deterred. He had his father tightly around the neck, squeezing as the man’s face turned purple.

  “Did you just threaten her, old man?” Cortez seethed. “Did I hear you threaten her life?”

  Andres was struggling to no avail to pry Cortez off their father. “Cortez, stop!” he cried. “You will kill him!”

  Cortez was in a haze of fury. “Answer me!” he roared at his father. “Did you just threaten her life?”

  Gorsedd was starting to lose consciousness. “Her… family has committed heinous crimes against ours,” he grunted, struggling to breathe. “How can you defend her?”

  “Because she did not do anything!” Cortez bellowed. “She is innocent!”

  Gorsedd was starting to fight back as his field of vision began to go black. “Get… get her out of my sight!” he yelled, trying to kick his powerful son. “Get her out of my sight or I will kill her! I will avenge my grandfather with her blood!”

  Cortez squeezed so tightly that his father passed out but he was prevented from killing the man by James and Andres. Andres threw his arms around his brother and pulled him back, away from Gorsedd, who was lying limp on the floor.

  “Nay, Cortez, nay!” Andres pleaded. “Come with me now. Let us leave tonight. We will get far away from here.”

  Cortez was blinded by rage, fighting his brother even as the man struggled to stop him. He was about to punch his brother squarely in the face but a soft, white hand on his arm stopped him. It was a gentle touch, but it did what no man could do. It instantly stopped his forward momentum. Diamantha pushed herself in between Cortez and Andres, a soft bit of ethereal love and hope where moments before, all that had existed in that space had been rage.

  “Please,” she begged, tears in her eyes. “Please do not fight any more. Just take me away of here.”

  Cortez wanted to fight. He wanted to fight in the worst way. Diamantha’s life had been threatened, her heritage sullied, and all he wanted to do was destroy those who would hurt her, even his own father. He couldn’t even describe the fury in his heart at the moment. All he knew was that he was mad enough to kill.

  But that wouldn’t solve the issue. It would make him guilty of patricide, and as he struggled to calm himself, he realized that he was not prepared to enter those heady waters. Something like that would damage him for the rest of his life and quite possibly damage his relationship with Diamantha. Who’s to say that, at some point, he wouldn’t blame her for his actions? Therefore, he took a deep breath and labored to ease his rage.

  He looked at Andres. The man looked terrified. Drunk, but terrified. Then he looked at James and Drake, both of them poised to kill on his command. He knew they would, too, even if the command was to kill Gorsedd. Then, he looked at Diamantha. She was weeping and struggling not to. She was absolutely terrified. Taking a deep, calming breath, he put a hand on the back of her head and pulled her forehead to his lips for a sweet kiss.

  “Andres,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Take our father to the vault and lock him up for the night. It would be much easier to do that than pack up our entire party and flee into the dead of night. We will leave before dawn and give the servants instructions to release Father from the vault when we are well away.”

  Shaken, Andres nodded unsteadily and moved to his father, who was just starting to come around. He motioned to James, who helped Andres pick the man up and drag him out of the hall. Cortez waited until he was gone before turning back to the room full of men who were standing about uneasily. Taking his wife by the arm, he turned her back to the table.

  “Now,” he said with forced calm. “We can finish our meal in peace. Did Sophie get much to eat? I could not tell. Mayhap we should bring something to her.”

  Diamantha was choking back tears. “Where is my daughter?” she asked tightly. “Where did you take her?”

  He shushed her gently. “Merlin has instructions to keep her safe,” he assured her. “You know he will. The man will protect her with his life.”

  Diamantha broke into soft sobs. “I want my baby,” she said. “I want to leave.”

  Cortez could see that the evening was ruined. Gathering her up, he told Drake to remain behind to make sure the men were adequately fed and that no one got too drunk so they would be ready to depart on time in the morning. He also told Drake to keep an eye on his father in the vault because he honestly couldn’t trust that Andres wouldn’t feel sorry for the man and release him.

  Drake wanted to follow them, to take up a sentry position outside of the master chamber door for Diamantha’s sake, but Cortez called him off. With Gorsedd in the vault, providing he remained there, such protection would not be necessary. Besides, Cortez had his broadsword with him. Just in case.

  Leaving a great feast down in the hall, Cortez escorted his wife up to the chamber at the top of the keep. When they arrived, Diamantha was somewhat calmer, calmer still to see that Merlin had brought Sophie up to the chamber. When they came through the door, the first thing they saw was Merlin seated on the floor with a rabbit in his lap while Sophie, sitting on the floor next to him, held the kittens and the fox. Cortez walked up to his sergeant, shaking his head reproachfully at the man.

  “You make a fine playmate, Merlin,” he said.

  Merlin shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. “She insisted,” he said feebly. “I could not deny her.”

  Cortez pursed his lips wryly as he reached down and picked up the little rabbit, allowing Merlin to stand. As the sergeant bid Diamantha a good evening and left the chamber, Cortez bolted the door behind him. When he turned back around, he noticed the big tub over near the hearth, partially concealed in the shadows of the room, and on the small table there was a pitcher with cups and a platter of food. There also appeared to be a clean bed, mattress and all. They had all they needed for the evening and that helped his emotional state a good deal.

  Already, Diamantha was telling Sophie to put the animals back in their cages so she could bathe the child and prepare her for bed. It was clear that she was trying to put the horror of the hall behind her. Cortez, with the little rabbit still clutched against his chest, went over to the cage and handed the rabbit to Diamantha, who put it back in the cage with its mates. He watched Diamantha’s lowered head as she took Sophie over to the tub and began taking her clothes off, finally submerging the child in about eight inches of very warm water. As Sophie splashed about, Diamantha went over to their satchels and began pulling out clean clothing. Cortez followed her.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered, putting his hands on her arms and kissing the top of her dark head. “My father… I would have never imagined him capable of what I witnessed tonight. Ha
d I had any idea he would have reacted that way, I certainly would have taken steps to avoid it.”

  Diamantha sighed faintly as she pulled out a sleeping shift for Sophie. She was pensive, subdued. “It is not the first time someone has reacted negatively to the fact that I bear de Velt bloodlines,” she said nervously. “I know what atrocities the man committed, many people do. But I also know from my grandmother that marriage changed him. He became an excellent father and husband, and actually became quite a benefactor in his later years, mayhap to make up for all of the pain and suffering he had caused. He donated heavily to the church and also donated quite heavily to the university at Oxford. But… he wasn’t perfect, even with all of that benevolence.”

  Cortez cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  Diamantha’s gaze was on her daughter as the little girl poured water over her head from a small wooden cup that had been floating around in the tub.

  “My great-grandfather conquered many castles,” she said quietly. “He did it just the way your father said. He impaled men on poles and left them to die. He killed women and children. In the end, he kept many of those castles he conquered simply because he had killed all of the families they belonged to. There was no one left, at least no one close enough to assume the properties, so he simply kept and maintained them. He gave them to his children, or to the men who served him. Do you happen to know where your great-grandfather was killed?”

  Cortez thought a moment. He had heard tale of the location, once. As he pondered her question, the answer came to him. “Comyn Castle, I believe,” he said. “My father’s mother was born there. It was their family seat.”

  Diamantha lifted her eyebrows ironically. “And she survived the siege by the great Jax de Velt?”

  Cortez shook his head. “I do not believe she was there at the time,” he said. “I seem to remember my father saying that his mother fostered for most of her childhood. The fact that she was sent away to foster probably saved her life. In fact, had she been there and your great-grandfather had killed her, then I would not be here today. Quite fortuitous, I would say.”

  He was smiling at her as he said it and she smiled weakly in return. But the smile soon faded. “Did you know your great-grandfather had been killed by my great-grandfather?”

  He shook his head, his smile fading as well. “In truth, I did not,” he said. “I knew he had been killed in a siege but I did not know the details until tonight.”

  “It was a rather terrible way to find out.”

  “Indeed it was.”

  Diamantha sighed, so much emotion roiling in her breast. “I feel so terrible about this, Cortez,” she said miserably. “Do you think it would do any good for me to apologize to your father? I will if you think it would help.”

  Cortez could only shake his head. “It probably won’t,” he said. “I told you that my father is very family oriented and speaks of his ancestors as if they are still living, breathing relatives. The fact that his grandfather was murdered… it is a very real event to him, even these years passed.”

  Diamantha was gazing up at him earnestly. “Then what do we do?” she asked. “I do not want to be a wedge between you and your father. I could not bear it. And what of Andres? He will be forced to choose sides if you and your father are at odds.”

  Cortez didn’t have all the answers. He kissed her cheek, trying to comfort her, trying to comfort them both. It was an unexpected twist in the situation and one that could have easily torn them apart. They’d had such a turbulent beginning and this was just another blow. But he was coming to realize, with great joy, that rather than run from him or fight with him about it, Diamantha was turning to him for comfort. She trusted him. She viewed him as her defender in all of this, which is exactly how he wanted it. Rather than tear them apart, they were instead drawing closer together. He could feel it.

  “Finish bathing Sophie and get her into bed,” he finally said. “I believe I shall go and see my father and try to talk some sense into him. Mayhap he is calmer now and will listen.”

  Diamantha cast him a long glance. “You will not fight him again, will you?”

  Cortez shook his head. “Nay, I swear it. I only want to talk to him.”

  Diamantha wasn’t so sure but she wouldn’t refute him. Instead, she nodded her head and moved off in the direction of the bathtub where her daughter was splashing water all over the floor. She was about halfway across the room when she suddenly came to a halt and retraced her steps. Cortez was just opening the chamber door when she called to him.

  Cortez paused, his hand on the door latch, as Diamantha approached. She didn’t say a word. She simply stood on her toes and kissed him, on the cheek, a sweeter kiss he had never received. Then, with a faint smile, she turned around and returned to the tub where Sophie was having a marvelous time.

  Cortez stood there a moment, watching her as she walked away. He could still feel the heat from her lips against his flesh. It was enough to make his giddy heart start thumping again.

  “Bolt this door when I leave,” he told her. “You will only open it for me. Is that clear?”

  Diamantha was on her knees beside the tub now. She nodded obediently. “It is,” she said. Then, she called after him one more time. “Cortez?”

  He was almost through the door now but came to a halt. “Aye?”

  Diamantha instinctively put her hand to her throat. “The necklace you gave me,” she ventured hesitantly. “The one that belonged to your mother. Your father… well, it broke. Do you think you can go to the hall and find the pieces? Mayhap we can have it repaired.”

  He nodded, thinking of the sight of his father ripping the necklace from Diamantha’s neck. Given how his father valued that necklace, the moment of violence was positively surreal. “I will see if I can find it,” he said gently.

  “Thank you.”

  Cortez winked at her as he finally quit the chamber and shut the door behind him. He was halfway down the dark, narrow stairs when he heard her throw the bolt. Descending all the way to the ground floor of the keep, his giddiness faded and his battle-hewn mind began to focus. Something very bad had happened this evening and he intended to rectify it, however he could. He was either going to help his father see reason or put him out of his life and mind forever.

  Although Gorsedd was his father, and he loved the man, he couldn’t condone his terrible and unreasonable behavior. It was shocking and horrifying, all of it, but Cortez wouldn’t allow his father to rule, or ruin, his life. Not now, not just when he’d found some measure of happiness again. It was foolish to choose his new wife over his father and he knew it, but in a sense, he wasn’t making the choice at all. Gorsedd was. It would be Gorsedd’s choice as to whether or not he could accept Diamantha, a distant de Velt, into the family. If he couldn’t then Gorsedd would lose much more than his son’s respect.

  He would lose his son.

  Near dawn, Andres found Cortez in the great hall of Coven.

  At first, Andres nearly missed him, seated in their father’s chair at the great feasting table, partially hidden by the shadows of the room. The hearth was dark and the great hall was very cold at this time of the morning. Andres made his way over to him.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  Cortez was looking at the tabletop in front of him. He was fidgeting with pieces of the great silver collar he had found on the floor, at least twelve or more pieces, and he wasn’t even sure he had all of them. The break had been by the clasp so the main part of the collar was thankfully intact, but the damage had been done. He couldn’t fathom the rage his father must have had in order to have done such a thing. As Cortez sat in his father’s seat at his father’s table, holding the necklace that had once belonged to his mother, his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces of sorrow.

  “I came here to find this necklace,” he finally muttered. Then, he glanced up at his brother. “Are the men getting ready to leave?”

  Andres looked at him with concern
. “They are,” he said. “What about you? Are you ready?”

  Cortez sighed heavily. Then, he sat back in the chair and dragged his hands over his face wearily. “I am, for the most part,” he said. “My wife should be ready as well. I was just going to go and get her.”

  Andres sat down next to his brother. “What is wrong?” he demanded. “Did you speak with Father?”

  Cortez looked at him again. “Aye,” he said. “Did you?”

  Andres wriggled his eyebrows in a resigned gesture. “I did,” he said. “I am sure he told you everything he told me.”

  Cortez shook his head sadly. “It is as if I do not even know the man any longer,” he said hoarsely. “I sat in the vault with him most of the night. I listened to him weep and shout and accuse Diamantha of terrible things, or at least accuse her of being responsible for what Jax de Velt did. It is as if the man doesn’t want to listen to reason. Nothing I could say could sway him.”

  Andres was feeling very bad about everything, made worse by a dull throb in his head from too much drink the night before. In fact, he wasn’t feeling altogether well, about anything.

  “I know,” he muttered. “I tried to talk to him a little while ago. He thinks you have betrayed the entire family by marrying her.”

  “I know.”

  Andres scratched his cheek wearily. “I will tell you something else,” he said, lowering his voice. “Father’s majordomo says that Father’s behavior has been very erratic over the past year. He cannot make clear decisions sometimes, he becomes enraged quite easily, as we have seen, and he is very forgetful. That may explain why the situation with your wife has set him off so badly. The majordomo thinks there is something wrong with his mind.”

  Cortez looked at him, an expression of distress on his face. After a moment, he shook his head in disbelief. “That would explain quite a lot, actually,” he said, “for the man in the vault is not the father I know. I do not know who that is.”

  Andres watched his brother for a moment. “Cortez,” he began slowly. “I have been thinking… mayhap I should remain here with him, at least for a little while. You have many excellent knights at your disposal and father has no one. I think he needs me. You do not.”