“It is true that normal relations have ceased between the two countries,” Lennox agreed. He took a folded letter from the pouch at his waist and showed it to her. “The duke must have employed a special courier.”
“What does he say?” Nora wiped a smear of broth from Brienne’s dimpled cheek then set the baby on the floor so she could totter along the bench, holding on. Her proud father predicted that she would be walking by Christmas.
“He wishes us well, of course, and is glad to know I am being challenged creatively here at Stirling.” A wry smile touched Lennox’s mouth. “Oh, and I almost forgot. My father has taken a new bride.”
Nora gasped. “Are you very surprised?”
He shook his head. “Not really. The duke is determined to have an heir, and since I would not cooperate, he must have taken matters into his own hands. Already my new step-mother is with child.”
“Do you know this woman?”
“A little. She is a great beauty, the daughter of Father’s close friend, Viscount St. John.”
His tone was a bit too casual for Nora’s liking. “I see. Could it be the same woman the duke wanted you to wed?”
“Ye are a perceptive lass.” He smiled into her eyes. “I could not have done it, of course. Father told me once that noblemen like him cannot marry because of ‘romantic notions that fade with time.’ I suppose that was the moment when I realized I could never belong to that world. I had to come back to London, to discover if you would still have me.”
Nora longed to go into his arms, but part of her attention was on Brienne, who was always at risk of taking a tumble. As if reading her mind, Lennox reached out and scooped their daughter onto his lap, holding both mother and child close to his heart.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Before either of them could respond, it flew open to reveal William Brodie. His face was flushed with cold, and snowflakes clung to his heavy cloak and grizzled beard.
“Nora! I have returned.” He paused, his voice choked. “I am not alone.”
“Oh, I am so glad to see you, Father, to know you are safe.” As she rose, a tingling sensation came over her. The scent of lavender faintly touched her nostrils, her memory. Even before William Brodie reached back to bring a woman into view, Nora knew she was about to meet her mother again.
Ada Enloe Brodie had grown older since their parting a dozen years ago, and yet her deep blue eyes, tentative smile, and the delicate hands she extended were all the same.
“Mama.” As Nora rose and crossed the room, time fell away.
“My darling.” Ada began to weep softly as they embraced. Her cheek was cold and damp against Nora’s, and she patted her back, as if to comfort her. “I am so sorry.”
“But I was the one who left you.” It hurt to say the words aloud, to let herself feel it all again after so many years of making herself numb to the separation from her mother.
“Nay, child. Ye were but a wee lass!” declared William Brodie. “Blame me. I forced you to choose between us.” He looked from Nora to little Brienne, who watched with interest from her father’s lap. “Watching ye with your own babe during these past months, I finally faced my crime.”
“Always so dramatic!” Ada shook her head at him and wiped a tear from her eyes. Looking at Nora she explained, “William wrote to me, and fortunately I was still living in the same house in Brussels. When he invited me to sail to Scotland, I could not refuse. In fact, I have waited ten long years for this day.”
For a moment, Nora could not speak. They had been parted when she was beginning a delicate adolescence. Her mother’s absence had been a wound in her heart, but perhaps it was possible for them to weave a new, stronger bond now that Nora was a mother herself.
“Is this only a visit?” Nora dared to ask, looking between her parents. “Or will you stay in Scotland, Mama?”
“We shall see,” Ada replied, glancing toward William. To Nora’s surprise, her father reddened. “I hope to remain here, with my family.”
As they spoke, Lennox rose and carried Brienne across the room, pausing before Nora and her parents.
Nora reached out to draw him closer still. “Mama, I want you to meet Lennox MacLeod, my splendid husband. And this is Brienne Brodie MacLeod…”
Lennox smiled as he finished her sentence. “…our bonny daughter.”
* * *
Thick, wet snowflakes made a lacy curtain beyond the castle windows as Lennox and Grant carried the newest medallion into the tapestry workroom. He had expected the large space to be a hive of activity, as usual, with William Brodie back in charge, sternly ordering his weavers about while Nora guided the project more quietly.
Instead, William was sitting in the corner, seemingly oblivious to the tapestry that was taking shape on the great loom. He bounced Brienne on one knee while Ada beamed at them from a nearby stool. From time to time, she said something in a low voice and William replied.
“Ye may go,” Lennox said to Grant. “There’s a lass who was looking for ye in the outer hall. Barbara?”
“Oh aye!” Grant’s eyes opened wide. “I’d better discover what she might need.”
As the lad turned and rushed away, Lennox shifted the medallion in his arms and looked for Nora.
“I’m here,” she called, peeking around one corner of the loom.
They met each other halfway. Lennox inclined his head toward her parents and said dryly, “What’s that all about then? Your da seems besotted.”
She glanced heavenward. “Yes, quite. But I must confess I’m very happy to see them together like this.”
“Ye don’t mind if he forgets about his work?”
“No. In a way, it’s easier,” she said in a confidential tone. “I don’t have to defer to him or correct the mistakes he sometimes makes.”
“Then ye are already master weaver, by default.” He set the medallion down on her worktable. “What do ye think of this head I’m about to paint? It’s James V.”
“Oh, yes, it’s a perfect likeness!” She studied the carved likeness Lennox had designed of the Scots king, nodding. Bayard had done the carving, expertly depicting his sad eyes, short beard, and hands clasped in an attitude of majesty. “How pleased he will be to see it.”
“I hope so.” Lennox felt deep sympathy for the despondent king. “I thought to make his clothing crimson and gold, the Stewart colors.”
“Those are perfect choices. It will be magnificent,” she said, nodding.
Their eyes met, and he yearned to take her in his arms. Nora grew more lovely by the day, Lennox thought, her burnished curls shining, her face aglow, her body appealingly lush since she had become a mother. In a low voice, he suggested, “Perhaps we should go somewhere and talk. Don’t ye have a new question about the tapestry pattern to put to me?”
“I might…” Nora leaned closer, tipping her head back as she smiled.
“Do ye, now?” Lennox laughed softly. “I can think of something I’d like to put to ye as well.”
“You are very wicked, sir.” She pretended to look shocked. “One of the many reasons I enjoy having Mama here is that she loves to take care of Brienne, thus allowing us more time alone.”
Lennox imagined having Nora in their bed, undistracted by the chance that Brienne might hear them. Perhaps there would even be enough time to divest her of her gown and kirtle so they might make love properly. Nora was looking at him as if she would like that very much.
“Let’s be away, lass.” Arching a brow, he reached for her hand. “Quickly, before ye change your mind.”
Before they could turn to leave, Lennox heard footsteps, and a tall female figure appeared in the doorway.
“Lennox MacLeod, there you are at last! I’ve searched this entire castle.” His Aunt Tess stood before them, richly garbed in emerald green and a gem-studded gable hood.
“What a fine surprise.” Lennox tried to summon the proper enthusiasm as he embraced his aunt. Turning back to Nora, he introduced the two women.
/> “I am very pleased to meet you at last, my lady. Please, do come and sit down,” said Nora, gesturing toward a nearby bench.
Tess looked her over approvingly. “Fiona has written to me all about your adventures with my nephew.” She sent Lennox a reproachful glance. “I expected a visit from you, telling me everything that you learned about Eleanor, but no doubt you have been too busy. Thank goodness for your sister.”
“Ah, men,” Nora rejoined. “Aren’t they all the same?”
Tess nodded approval. “Indeed.”
Lennox held up both hands in mock defense. “Surely ye have not come to Stirling simply to scold me for being a man!” Sensing that his aunt was avoiding a more serious subject, he continued, “I would not have expected ye to journey here from Linlithgow now, when Her Majesty is about to deliver a child.” Even as he spoke, he felt a strange chill of foreboding. “I hope nothing is amiss.”
“Indeed, I do come on a sad errand.” Suddenly Tess looked as if she might weep. “I have just spoken to Fiona and Christophe. I bring two pieces of news that are shaking all of Scotland.” At that, Nora brought her a cup of wine, and Tess took a long drink. Her tone then became deeply serious. “On the sixth day of December, our queen was delivered of a healthy babe. A girl, called Mary.”
“How wonderful!” Nora said with feeling.
“Aye.” Tess’s strong face grew pinched. “Although, after the tragic loss of the two princes, we had deeply hoped for a boy. I know it was a great blow to the king, who was already laid low by the loss at Solway Moss.”
Her words brought back the memory of the day at Falkland Palace, when Lennox had sketched the queen with her new baby prince. Not long after, both of her little sons had fallen ill and died. He prayed that this infant princess would be healthy.
Yet, watching his aunt, Lennox felt a shadow of foreboding. “What is the second piece of news?”
“His Majesty, King James V, sank into a fever and died, just days after the birth of his daughter. The tiny babe is now Mary, Queen of Scots.”
“By the saints,” Lennox muttered as he tried to make sense of what Tess had told them. “What will happen now?”
“His Majesty lies in state in the chapel at Falkland Palace before being removed to Holyrood Abbey in Edinburgh.” Her voice quavered. “He was only twenty-eight years of age, you know.”
Lennox thought back to the chess matches he had shared with the monarch at Falkland Palace, while waiting for his chance to speak to Aunt Tess. James could be imprudent, selfish, even cruel to anyone he believed to be disloyal, like his old friend Hamilton of Finnart, yet he was also charming and dedicated to artistic pursuit. His youth had scarred him, Lennox reflected.
“I wonder if the little queen will be able to stay with her mother or instead be in the care of regents, as James was,” Lennox mused. If he were separated from Brienne, it would tear his heart out. The infant Mary had been born into a world of privileged nobility, one Lennox had glimpsed when he was with the Duke of Hastings. Yet it could be a cold, dangerous existence. Her father, the king, was dead, and if they took her from her mother, there was no telling what heartache and peril might lie in store for tiny Mary, the new Queen of Scots.
“We pray they will not be separated,” Tess replied, and he saw in her eyes that she shared his concern.
“Indeed, it would be tragic,” Nora nodded gravely, then rose to her feet. “I hesitate to interrupt this sober conversation, but I see that my parents are approaching.”
William and Ada had clearly grown curious about their visitor. When Nora guided them near, Lennox stood to make introductions. Tess was gracious to both William and Ada, but the sight of Brienne transformed her expression.
Little Brienne leaned out of William’s arms, straining toward Lennox, and he felt a familiar surge of love as he lifted her into his strong embrace. “This is our daughter,” he said proudly. “Brienne Brodie MacLeod.”
“Indeed she is your daughter!” Tess smiled broadly, looking from Lennox to Nora. “I would know my wee niece anywhere. What a welcome reminder that life goes on, even in the midst of tragedy.”
Lennox felt a bit guilty, letting her think they were related to Brienne by blood, but for now, it was the only way. Besides, he thought, it matters not.
“Brienne, will you sit with your auntie?” Tess spread her skirts to indicate the place on her lap for the baby.
Lennox carried Brienne over to the bench and took a seat beside his aunt. The others joined them. He expected the babe to be a bit shy with someone new, but to his surprise, she clambered over and sat on Tess’s lap as if they were old friends.
“She looks just like Eleanor when she was a wee babe, right down to the shape of her face, the tilt of her nose, and the dimples in her cheeks,” Tess marveled. “It is truly a miracle!”
Stunned, Lennox let her words sink in. He looked past his aunt to meet Nora’s startled gaze. Was it possible that she had not been with child at all after that night with Slater and that Brienne had been conceived when they were together that night in the woods? His mind raced with the possibilities.
“And look,” Tess was continuing, “this wee beauty will soon have green eyes, just like her da.”
“They are blue, like Nora’s,” Lennox corrected.
“Oh, no. The eyes of a babe often begin as blue but change with time. See for yourselves!”
Both Lennox and Nora leaned forward to look more closely at their smiling daughter. It was true, there was now a discernible green tint to Brienne’s blue eyes. When had this happened? Had they simply been so convinced that Lennox could not have fathered the babe that they never noticed the gradual change in her eye color?
Nora stood up. “I just remembered something I must tend to.” Her voice shook slightly as she looked from Tess to William and Ada. “If you three would not mind entertaining Brienne, I will steal Lennox away to assist me.”
William waved a hand at her. “Go on, lass. This babe will be safe with us. And we can become better acquainted with her ladyship.”
Taking Lennox’s hand, Nora led him quickly out of the workroom, down the passageway, up a twisting stone staircase, and into their own apartments. When the door was shut, she turned to face him.
“I think it may be true!” she exclaimed, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks.
“Can it?” His heart was pounding. “Ye were so certain that you were already with child when we left Stirling!”
Nora came into his arms and clung to him. “In my innocence, there was much I didn’t understand. I thought, because he had put his seed in me and my monthly flow did not begin, it must be so. But when I was in London, Micheline told me things that now make so much sense.”
As she spoke, Lennox picked her up and carried her to a long cushioned stool near the window. Snowflakes continued to drift from the pale gray sky, while embers glowed in the nearby hearth.
He drew off Nora’s French hood and smoothed back her curls. “Tell me,” he whispered.
“She said every seed that is planted does not grow.” Tears filled Nora’s eyes. “And a trauma might cause a monthly flow to cease. But because I was already clearly with child when we talked, I thought no more of it.” Nora gazed into his eyes. “Oh, Lennox, I believe your aunt is right. Brienne is your child, born of our love.”
Slowly, he nodded, filled with a new sense of peace. “It never mattered to me. Ye know that. She was mine, in my heart, all along.”
“Perhaps it weighed more on me, deep inside, more than I could admit even to myself. Now I can begin to completely blot that evil man from my memory. Will you help me?” She caressed Lennox’s rough cheek, smiling, and his heart filled with love.
“I suggest we begin together.” He kissed her slowly, tasting her sweet mouth. “This very moment.”
~ Thank You ~
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QUEST OF THE HIGHLANDER is Book 5 in my Crowns & Kilts: The St. Briac Family series:
YOU AND NO OTHER (Thomas & Aimée)
OF ONE HEART (Andrew & Micheline)
ABDUCTED AT THE ALTAR (Christophe & Fiona)
RETURN OF THE LOST BRIDE (Ciaran & Violette)
Quest of the Highlander (Crowns & Kilts Book 5) Page 29