“Are you asking me if I miss Lennox?” An abrupt wave of longing swept over Nora, and her voice broke. “Of course I do, but—”
She was interrupted by Cicely, who had half-risen and was waving toward the manor house. “Here we are! Do come and join us.”
Nora turned her head and saw Micheline gracefully making her way down one of the pathways, clad in a fresh-looking gown of apricot silk. Walking beside her was a familiar-looking young man with a head of unruly dark hair. Nora’s heart leaped with joy.
“It’s Grant!” she breathed. As their eyes met, a broad grin spread over his face and she rose, hurrying forward to embrace him.
“By my troth,” Cicely exclaimed. “I believe we managed to surprise Nora after all!”
Warm greetings were exchanged all around. Micheline inquired about Nora’s news before sharing stories about their weeks in Gloucestershire, where the family passed the summer riding and breeding horses.
“We are fortunate the girls love horses as much as we do,” she said, smiling. “We can all be outdoors together. Andrew had a special saddle made for his horse, Hampstead, after our babies began to come, so now it is little Alison’s turn to ride up high with her papa.”
“Oh, it sounds wonderful,” Nora said with feeling. Their life was like a fairytale, she thought.
“We did have a fine time,” Micheline agreed. “Our dear friend, Sir Jeremy Culpepper and his new wife recently paid us a visit.” She glanced at Cicely. “He has grown more stout than ever. I could sense his wife wanting to give his hand a little slap when he continued to reach for the sweets.”
They laughed together until Grant cleared his throat. Suddenly Micheline was getting to her feet. “Cicely, won’t you help me gather the children for supper?”
“What? Oh, yes, I suppose I should go with you.” Cicely suddenly smiled as if she knew a good secret. “You and Grant have a nice chat. I’ll be back soon.”
When Nora and Grant were alone, she reached out to clasp his hand. “I can hardly believe you are here. I think you must be growing taller every week.”
He beamed at her. “Ye are a welcome sight.”
Nora wore a French hood lined with pearls and now she raised a hand, sensing that some of her long curls had come loose. “I came from weaving at Whitehall Palace. I know I must look very untidy compared to the ladies you’ve seen at Greythorne Manor.”
“Your cheeks are pink, your eyes sparkle, and your hair gleams like polished copper in the sun. That’s real beauty as far as I’m concerned.”
“How did you know I needed to hear a few words of flattery?” Nora felt his hand tighten on hers. She remembered the day at Stirling Castle when they had been together in the lion’s den courtyard, and she had trusted him enough to confide that she was with child. Grant had declared that he would wed her himself if he could. “What a good and true friend you are to me, Grant. Tell me now what brings you here.” Her heart was in her throat. “I hope Lennox is well?”
He shrugged. “Not sick or injured, if that’s what ye are asking, but he is not himself.”
What could that mean? Nora’s thoughts skittered toward hope then backed away. Certainly, she would not wish for Lennox to be unhappy in his new life.
“What is it then?” she managed to ask.
“I will be plain. Do ye still have feelings for him?”
Emotion rushed through Nora in a wave so powerful she felt ill. Looking into Grant’s big gray eyes, she replied, “I will always love Lennox, yet I know it is impossible.” Her hands went instinctively to her thickening middle. “I could never live in his world, with the duke.”
“Because of your weaving,” Grant supplied.
She nodded. “It is as much a part of me as breathing, and Lennox well understands that. I might want to try to be different, but I would not thrive among the aristocracy.”
“Yet ye love him.”
She fought an urge to weep. “Yes. Of course.”
Grant leaned closer, tightly holding her hand. “He bade me to ask if ye would see him. He didn’t want to just appear if it would be painful, but if ye will agree…”
“It is surely folly!” Nora drew a shaky breath, smiling as elation rose up in her. “But, yes, I will see him. Gladly.”
Chapter 30
After she returned from Weston House, Nora was so excited she could scarcely sleep that night. She dreamed of Lennox coming to her, then she lay awake on her rope-strung mattress and relived every memory they had shared.
The next day, Nora kept busy meeting with the weavers who would work under her supervision on The King’s Joust tapestry. Four of them were men, who eyed her uncertainly, but the three female weavers appeared delighted to be led by Nora. One was a former nun who had come to the court after the dissolution of the monasteries. Another, Peg Horner, gave Nora a winning smile and proclaimed that she had known William Brodie during his time as one of the royal tapisiers. Peg declared that if Mistress Lovejoy was Brodie’s daughter, that was a fine endorsement.
Returning home late that afternoon, Nora felt a mixture of satisfaction for a day well spent and hope for the evening ahead. Was it possible that Lennox might be on his way to London, even now? Perhaps not, for Grant had confided that there were plans afoot to match Lennox with a young noblewoman who was a favorite of the Duke of Hastings. Although Grant insisted that Lennox felt uneasy about this match, he could not assure Nora that Lennox would refuse.
Perhaps he was with that other woman now. He might have changed his mind and wouldn’t come to London at all. Or perhaps he was coming to tell her himself that he had settled into his new life and he planned to wed another. Would he ask her to release him from their handfasting vows? It wasn’t necessary, of course. No one in England would pay any attention to the simple ceremony that had bound them together, almost by accident.
She sighed, wishing she had never let herself think about Lennox and the beautiful lady who might be on his arm at that moment, miles away at Greythorne Manor.
Inside the little house on Cockspur Court, Nora found Joan Farthing holding her basket and petting Samuel, the cat. “Hello, mistress,” said Joan, a smile softening the lines of her pointed face. “I was just telling Samuel here that I’m off to the fish seller to see if they’ve gotten more fresh oysters. If you don’t mind, I will stop to visit my sister on my way back.”
“Of course I don’t mind. Enjoy your time with your sister.”
“Oh, mistress, I nearly forgot.” Joan opened the parlor cabinet and took out a folded message. “This came for you a short time ago.”
When Nora was alone, she stood beside a small mullioned window and looked at the letter. Mistress Nora Brodie, Cockspur Court was written in an ornate hand. Perhaps it was from Lennox, for who else knew her true name? Her heart began to pound. Breaking the seal, she unfolded the paper and read,
My beloved, I will soon be kissing your sweet lips.
Listen for my knock at your door.
Your own, Lennox.
Heat flooded her cheeks. She stared at the paper, trying to imagine him writing those words with a swan’s quill. Every part of her seemed to come alive with joy, anticipation, and arousal. Was it truly possible that soon they would be together in this very room?
After setting out a flagon of wine, goblets, and a dish of cheese, nuts, and figs, Nora rushed up the narrow steps to her bedroom. Off came the plain woolen dress she had worn to Whitehall Palace that day. Quickly, she washed at her basin and donned the cornflower-blue gown Lennox had liked best. It fit more snugly than in the past, and her breasts strained above the laces of her bodice. Should she tug the neckline of her chemise higher, for modesty’s sake? Nora looked in the mirror and shared a secret smile with her own reflection. Realizing that there was no need to hide any part of herself from Lennox, she felt like a woman again, for the first time in many weeks.
She was brushing her long curls when a knock sounded downstairs. For a moment, her heart stopped. Listen for my knock,
he had written. Her feet scarcely touched the steps as she descended to the parlor, fumbled with the bar, raised it, and threw open the door.
When Sir Raymond Slater stepped into the room, Nora felt raw fear. Samuel the cat hissed and hid behind the chair.
“What are you doing here?” Nora asked. Sensing that she could be in real danger, she kept her tone even.
Slater pulled the door shut and replaced the heavy bar. Over his doublet, he wore a wide-shouldered, fur-trimmed jerkin that made him appear even more formidable. “I thought perhaps, by now, you might be ready to listen to reason, pet.”
“I have not changed my mind,” Nora said firmly.
“No? Perhaps this will help to persuade you. Does the title Maiden with a Harp mean anything to you?” He came closer, flashing a sinister smile. “Did you imagine that someone really wanted to purchase that little tapestry you made, enabling you to support yourself without a man?”
Nora felt the blood drain from her face. “Are you implying that it was not a merchant but you who purchased it from Master Mostinck?”
“Oh, I’m not implying it. I’m telling you! You needed to be taught a lesson. If we cannot reach an agreement today, I shall be forced to take back all those beautiful sovereigns and angels you need so much.”
Feeling sick, Nora glanced toward the door. If only Lennox would appear!
The Englishman seemed to read her mind. “Ah, of course, you are expecting someone, aren’t you? Let me guess…’Soon I will be kissing your sweet lips’.”
She stared at him in horror. “Y-you wrote that note? And signed Lennox’s name?”
“My ruse succeeded very well, I see, for you have made yourself look especially lovely, pet. And look at the refreshments you have prepared, expecting to enjoy them with MacLeod. Oh, wait, he now aspires to be an English nobleman, does he not?” Slater’s tone was mocking. “Soon he may have a title. Did you really expect MacLeod to turn his back on life with the Duke of Hastings and come back to you, especially knowing you carry my child?”
Nora pushed through a tide of rage and forced herself to think. She might feel a powerful urge to pick up the flagon of wine and smash it across his head, but if that failed, Slater could retaliate in a way that would put her baby in danger. No, instead she must use her wits to overpower him.
Striving to sound conciliatory, Nora said, “I suppose I must recognize that there is truth in all that you are saying.”
He came closer, watching her. “You are sensible as well as beautiful.”
“I cannot escape the fact that you have sired my baby, Sir Raymond. I may wish at times that it were not so, but it is.”
“Very wise, pet.” He poured wine into both goblets and helped himself to a wedge of cheese. “Shall we agree to be friends?”
Nora nodded slowly. “I can finally see that we must work together, for the sake of our child.”
Slater hovered closer. As usual, he wore a jeweled pomander on a chain around his neck, its musky scent filling the air. Reaching for her hand, he guided it to his gold-striped codpiece and forced her to touch him. “We can do much more than work together.”
It took every ounce of Nora’s control to refrain from giving him a shove. Instead, she lowered her lashes and moved her hand away from his body. “You are so virile. I can’t help remembering how shy I felt the last time we were together and how your delicious sweetmeat helped me to relax. Do you by chance have more of them?”
“What a good idea.” He lifted both brows and reached inside his jerkin for the emerald-studded case. “For you, pet, anything.”
Nora accepted the sweetmeat he proffered and gazed at it longingly. “Let me sip my wine first, for I am thirsty.”
Slater nodded, but he was looking across the parlor to the cabinet, where Nora’s tapestry purse peeked out from the open door. “What do I see there?”
“That purse contains all the money I have in the world,” she said in a defeated tone. “Not only my meager savings, but also the payment for the Maiden and the Harp. I had been so proud to earn it honestly, but I now realize those funds came from you, sir.”
Striding to the cabinet, Slater withdrew the purse and opened it. As he counted the coins, Nora took one of the figs, furtively poked a hole in it, and pushed the sweetmeat inside.
“Indeed, there is even more than what I gave for your unremarkable tapestry,” Slater announced, slipping the purse inside his jerkin pocket. “But don’t worry, you won’t need any money of your own. You’ll be in my care.” He returned to her side. “Now then, where were we?”
“I have just eaten my sweetmeat. Will you have a fig?” She held out the plump fruit. “They are exceptionally good.”
He took the fig and ate it in one bite. “God’s teeth, I’ve never tasted anything so delicious. Now for some wine. Let us drink together, pet, and then you will take me to your bedchamber so that we may seal our new arrangement.”
Nora’s heart was beating like a drum. What if the sweetmeat did not have the same effect on a big man like him as it had on her at Stirling Castle? As she raised her goblet to answer his toast, her hand trembled. Slater frowned and gripped her wrist.
“What’s this?” He stared at her suspiciously, searching her face, and she felt herself flush. “I hope you don’t imagine you can deceive me!”
Nora knew she should attempt to return his stare with wide, innocent eyes, but hatred welled up in her, burning her heart.
“Why don’t you simply tell me the truth?” she asked, defiant.
He slammed down his goblet and grasped both her arms, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh above her elbows. “Which truth do you mean? I’ve already enlightened you about your ridiculous dreams of a future with Lennox MacLeod. And I helped you realize that your fantasies of being a master weaver are laughable!”
Nora thought she heard his voice begin to slur. Did she dare to hope that the sweetmeat was having an effect? “I am referring to that night at Stirling Castle,” she said. “What truly happened between us?”
He laughed a bit too loudly. “You can blame the sweetmeat you ate then, which will soon be affecting you again.”
“The sweetmeat?” Nora feigned surprise. “Why, what have you put in it?”
“I use a variety of herbs, including Linden flower, which causes sedation, especially when taken with wine,” Slater said proudly. “There are also other exotic substances, given to me during voyages to distant islands. I think I have the mixture just right, don’t you?”
“Does it excite you to render a female like me defenseless?” She wanted to kill him, but first she had to hear why he committed these terrible acts.
“Of course. Especially when my victim is an innocent maiden like you. Can you imagine how arousing it was to deflower so proud a beauty?” Slater tried to bring his crotch in contact with her hip, pressing against her. “Some ladies become utterly senseless and have no memory at all afterward. I can do all sorts of wicked things to them.” He drew a ragged breath. “Others, like you, are more resistant, yet you were unable to move or struggle against me. Later, I’m quite certain your memories were muddled. Yes?”
Nora tasted tears at the back of her throat. “But why would you choose to violate me? I had done you no harm.”
“Because Lennox MacLeod wanted you.” Leaning closer to her ear, Slater muttered, “I saw how he stared at you in the banquet hall that night. He would have liked to have you himself, so it amused me to take you instead. I despise men like him, who behave as if their righteous code of honor puts them above the rest of us. The sort who’s too virtuous to stick his cock in a common kitchen maid, given the chance.”
Listening to Slater rant, Nora realized that all his instincts were twisted. Everything that had happened that night at Stirling Castle now came clearly into focus for the first time. “You are a monster.”
“Yet my babe grows in your belly.” Drawing back, he leered at her, his lids heavy. “You have no choice but to join your fate to mine.�
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Over Slater’s shoulder, Nora glimpsed a movement on the steps leading to the upper story. Her heart leaped. Surely she must be seeing an apparition, for midway down the stairs stood Lennox. How could he have gotten inside? The door was barred! He wore his belted plaid, the sash fixed to one broad shoulder. His unruly golden hair was crowned by a tartan bonnet bearing the Clan MacLeod badge.
Yes, it was Lennox, still a Highlander, and he had come back to her! Nora wanted to cry out to him, but somehow she managed to remain unmoving in Slater’s grasp, waiting to decide what she should do next.
She watched as Lennox pressed a silencing forefinger to his mouth, then sent her a heart-melting grin. In one brown hand he gripped the hilt of his claymore, and she saw that a dirk was thrust into his belt. Shadows played over the hard muscles of his legs as he soundlessly descended the remaining steps.
Just then, Slater lifted his head and peered at her with glazed eyes. “What are you looking at?”
Remembering how strangely dizzy she had felt after eating the sweetmeat at Stirling Castle, Nora pointed toward the corner behind them. “Over there. Is that a rat I see?”
Slater drew back and attempted to peer in the direction of the corner. No sooner did he turn his head and look down than he began to topple over. Wildly, he reached out for Nora, as if she might keep him upright, but only succeeded in pulling her down with him.
“Do you think to trick me?” Slater demanded as they toppled together to the rush-strewn floor.
Nora found herself imprisoned under his body. His breath smelled of wine and the tainted fig, and when she tried to move and couldn’t, she began to panic a little. Was it possible to dislodge him by bringing her knee up, hard, to the place where it would hurt him most?
She was saved from trying by the sound of a beloved, familiar voice. “Slater! Did I not warn ye, at Stirling Castle, that I would see your head on a pike if our paths should cross again?”
Lennox towered above them, the sharpened point of his claymore pressed into the middle of Sir Raymond Slater’s back.
Quest of the Highlander (Crowns & Kilts Book 5) Page 26