She let her gaze wander around the width and length of the garden until she noticed a woman coming toward her from the other side. The woman carried a hoe and stopped several times here and there to pull weeds from between the plants. When she drew to within a few yards of the bench, she stopped her labors and turned to look at Gusty. Wiping the back of a hand across her sweaty forehead, the lady blew out a puff of air. She then leaned the hoe against a nearby tree, pulled off her leather gloves and removed her wide-brimmed hat, performing each task with grace and precision.
“It is a beautiful morning, is it not?”
At the sound of the lilting voice Gusty raised her gaze to the woman’s face. Absolutely lovely, Gusty thought, taken aback by the woman’s beauty. She was in fact the most beautiful woman Gusty had ever seen. Though not young, the woman’s beauty was an eternal kind that had allowed her to age gracefully. Her black hair, braided into a thick rope, hung well past her hips, its beauty only enhanced by the few silver strands at her temples. Her gentle expression mesmerized and the wisdom in her eyes spoke of long years of self-discipline and sacrifice. Yet Gusty sensed a loneliness in her even as a small smile lifted the corners of her lips.
“Yes it is. I’m sorry if I’m intruding. I didn’t realize anyone else would be up this early.”
The woman laughed. “My dear, this is a convent. Everyone is up the moment the first rays of the sun light the eastern sky. Matins has come and gone.”
“Oh then I guess compared to you, I am a slugabed.”
“In my opinion, you should still be in bed. You were not in the best of health when you first arrived.”
The woman’s expression showed her deep concern but her smile did not falter.
“Forgive me if this is intrusive, but aren’t nuns supposed to wear a veil? Aren’t you supposed to keep your hair covered?” Gusty hoped the woman would not think her too presumptuous.
“Aye, Gusty, they are. But I am not one of the dear sisters.”
“Oh…I did not realize…” Gusty glanced down at her lap and then back up at the woman. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage… I do not know your name.”
“That’s quite all right, dear. You were in no condition for introductions the last time I saw you. My name is Isabelle and I am as close to being a nun as you can get without taking the vows. I have lived here for many, many years.”
“Ah I see. Well it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Isabelle.”
They fell silent for a few comfortable moments.
“Would you like some help?” Gusty finally asked.
“Nay, my dear. You are straight out of your sick bed and you should be doing no more than resting on that bench. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Much better, thank you. A little shaky but I felt the need to get some fresh air. I did not realize until I finally left my room just how extensive this place is. It is really different here. So tranquil and quiet.”
“Aye you are correct, it is peaceful here. May I sit with you?”
Gusty moved to leave a spot for the older woman to sit when they were distracted by a commotion at the gate of the private garden. The morning birds, which had been chirping in the trees above them, took off in flight at the loud bellowing just beyond the wall. A moment later a very large, very angry man came charging through the opening, a distraught-looking nun following at his heels, one hand on the man’s arm as if trying to hold him back.
“I’m so sorry, Isabelle,” she called. “He would not wait for me to come and get you.” The nun apologized as she and the formidable man came to a stop.
“It’s all right, Mother, Malcolm has come to keep us company.”
“All right, dear, but you just kick him out if he gets too ill-mannered.”
“Oh I have no doubt he will be on his best behavior while inside such sacred walls.”
Isabelle’s tone held a note of warning for the large man and after a moment her words seemed to penetrate his anger. He nodded brusquely and the old woman released him.
“Isabelle.” He started toward her but then his gaze turned toward Gusty and he stopped.
As she met his eyes his face lost all color and for a moment Gusty thought the large man might faint. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. He swayed a bit and his knees gave way. Isabelle rushed forward and shoved him back so he sat down on the bench Gusty had just vacated.
“What is wrong? What are you doing here, Malcolm? You are not due to visit for another fortnight.”
“I know, Isabelle. I came for another reason. But I guess you know that by now…” He kept looking back and forth from Gusty to Isabelle, and he still looked as if he might be ill.
“What is it I am supposed to know?” Isabelle asked.
“She has come back to us, Isabelle. After all these years of waiting she has finally arrived. I learned just last night that she had fallen ill and was brought to the abbey. I rode like hell to get here but that old harridan—”
“Malcolm!” Isabelle gave him a stern look.
“Sister Margaret wouldn’t let me in when I arrived after dark last night. I can see Augusta is all right though. Dear Lord, Isabelle, our baby has come back to us.”
Gusty stood listening to their odd conversation, staring at the handsome giant who, despite being in his middle years, was still a very formidable man. A sniffling sound caught her attention and she turned to find Isabelle staring at her with tears streaming down her face.
“Dear God! It is she, Malcolm! You are right.” Isabelle covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
Malcolm grabbed her arm and pulled her down to sit beside him. He held her close as she cried against his chest, soaking his shirtfront.
Uncomfortable in the face of such intimacy Gusty looked to make her escape. She didn’t know what they were talking about or why Isabelle was weeping but Gusty figured the couple needed a little privacy.
“If you’ll excuse me, I will leave you alone. I’ll just go see if I can find something to eat. Maybe my husband has turned up by now. He’ll probably be hungry also.”
Her embarrassment heightened by her rambling monologue, she took a step back, but before she could get away Malcolm reached out and snagged her arm.
“What is this? You have a husband!” Malcolm leaped from his seat, his previously joyful countenance turning instantly furious. “What is this about a husband, lass? I never approved of any man to have you for his wife.”
Gusty’s mouth fell open and she stared up at the man as he towered over her. Of all the gall! Who did he think he was? He acted as if he had some say in her life. He never approved…? How absurd. She fought for control over her temper.
“Just who the hell do you think you are?” she asked in a low, angry voice. “You have no right to tell me what I can or cannot do. I am my own woman, buster, not some subservient peasant to be bossed around by some high and mighty, kilt-wearing, Highland Neanderthal.”
Malcolm dropped his hands from her arms and stared at her as if she had grown two heads. “Damn them! Damn them both to hell!”
Gusty stared up at the angry man, not understanding who he was damning.
“Ah, I think you need a few minutes to settle down.” She glanced at Isabelle, who sat unmoving on the bench, her face empty of all expression.
“They never told you, did they?” He stared at Gusty for a long moment before throwing his hands up in the air and turning to take several steps down the garden path. He stopped and hung his head, shaking it back and forth.
“Isabelle, will you be fine if I leave you alone with him?” She nodded toward Malcolm. “I really need to find Alexander before he wonders where I am. Sorry if I unset anyone but I don’t understand what’s going on here.”
Gusty barely got the words out when she found Malcolm at her side. He had moved so swiftly and quietly he took her unaware.
“Maeve and Hagen never told you who your parents were, I’m guessing.”
“No. My grandparents were close
-mouthed about who our parents were or how they died.”
“Those two people are not your grandparents, they were your guardians. They were to keep you and your brother safe, nothing more. It seems they have overstepped their authority.” As Malcolm Sinclair stood facing his angry daughter, uncertain what to do next, he felt Isabelle’s hand on his arm and turned his head to look down at her.
“I think we need to talk, my love. It is apparent she does not know about us. And I hate to admit it but since I did not know about this situation, I did something that will undoubtedly make you very unhappy.” She took both his hands in hers. “The Highland laird who brought her to me claimed she was his woman so I arranged for them to share a room.”
“Damn it all to hell! Has the scoundrel touched you, Augusta? Has he taken your innocence? By God I’ll impale the damn bastard on the end of my claymore!”
Isabelle kept hold of Malcolm as he raged. She moved her hands up and caressed his chest as if attempting to calm him with her touch.
“Take care, Malcolm. Keep in mind you are on sacred land. If you’re going to shed blood, take him outside the walls.”
Gusty stared at the couple. Had they completely lost their minds? This non-nun and a complete stranger stood there talking about killing Alexander for her sake. These two were surely the strangest people she had encountered in this land and that was saying quite a lot.
“Now just hold it a minute! Neither one of you are going to harm Alexander. He is my husband, by my choice and mine alone. And who do you two think you are, anyway, trying to butt into my business!” She disliked yelling, hated having to resort to such tactics but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She needed to be heard and these two were not listening.
“We have a great deal to say on this matter, Augusta. We are your parents,” Isabelle explained in her soft, soothing voice.
Gusty shook her head. Had she heard correctly? She looked to Malcolm, who nodded in agreement, and Gusty suddenly felt sick and light-headed. For the second time in her life, she feared she might faint. My parents…? Laughter bubbled up in her throat and a moment later she started giggling hysterically.
“Oh sure! That’s a good one! My parents! You married a nun? Right…” She shook her head. “I don’t think so! She may not have taken her vows but how can she live in a convent and be married?”
“We are not married,” Malcolm replied gruffly, as if he was embarrassed by the fact. “You were born out of wedlock.”
Then Isabelle, who had turned a lovely shade of pink, added reassuringly, “But you are our dear child, a child born of our love. You and your brother are the fruit of our love for each other. Is he here as well?”
Gusty couldn’t find her voice to answer and after a moment Isabelle turned her questioning gaze on Malcolm.
“Nay, Hagen and Maeve said he didn’t make the journey.”
His words convinced Gusty of the truth. If they knew about Michael, she was certain they were her parents. Nobody but Maeve and Hagen knew about her brother…not even Alexander knew the entire story. But these two seemed to know all her immediate family. And thinking back, her grandparents had never actually told her that her parents were dead. Of course Hagen and Maeve were not her real grandparents. She had known that for some time but she still thought of them in that sense. After all they were as close to her as any grandparent could have been. They had cared for her for years and they loved her. Over the years they’d answered her questions regarding her mother and father in a way that provided no concrete information but appeased her childish curiosity. At some point she had just assumed they were deceased and had stopped asking about them.
“I…I have to go now. It was nice meeting you both.” She did not wait for their permission to leave but turned and fled back to the convent house before they could stop her. She needed time to think things over. She needed to talk to Alexander.
Gusty did not stop until she had found her way back through the maze of corridors to her chamber. She threw open the door to find Alexander sitting on the bed, half dressed, his hair tousled and his eyes red from lack of sleep.
“There you are! You were gone when I awoke and I was worried. I was just coming to look for you.”
“I…I’ve been in the gardens,” Gusty explained lamely, too disturbed to reassure him that she was fine.
“What is the matter, Gusty? What has upset you?”
“I was in the garden,” she started.
“Aye so you say. But what happened while you were there?”
“Well if you would be a little patient, I would tell you,” Gusty retorted.
“I’m a very patient man and you just repeated yourself,” he replied.
Gusty turned around so he wouldn’t see her roll her eyes. “I was in the garden,” she started again, casting him an arch look over her shoulder to see if he was still keeping his famed patience. “I was talking to a nun only she wasn’t really a nun. But then this huge barbarian of a man showed up and interrupted our pleasant visit.”
“What did this man say? Tell me. I’ll drive my dagger through his heart if he dared to insult you.”
“That’s exactly what he threatened to do to you.”
Gusty nearly smiled thinking of the threat on her behalf but she sobered immediately as Alexander strode from the room, obviously intent on defending her honor. Cursing his foolishness, Gusty ran after him. At the end of the hall she caught a glimpse of his kilt swishing behind him as he turned a corner. She called after him but he kept going. Either he didn’t hear her or he refused to listen to reason.
When she finally caught up with him he had almost reached the entrance to the garden.
“Will you please let me finish?” She latched on to his arm and dragged him to a stop. “Listen to me! I was shocked by what this man and woman had to tell me.” She paused and swallowed the sudden lump in her throat before continuing. “They informed me I was their daughter.” Tears threatened to fill her eyes. She still could not believe this was happening to her. After all these years she had a mother and father!
“The Sinclair is here then?”
“You know him?” she shrieked, the sound of her outrage echoing off the walls.
“Aye, of course. He is a well-known chieftain of a powerful clan, as I am.”
“Did you know I was the daughter of Malcolm Sinclair?”
“Aye, I did.”
She stared up at him too furious to speak.
“But not until the day we were handfasted, sweet Gusty,” Alexander added hastily.
“Then perhaps there is something you should know about me before we go any further in our relationship.”
“And what is that?”
Gusty took a deep breath. Being an illegitimate child in her time was one thing. But in the Middle Ages, being born out of wedlock was tantamount to carrying the plague. “I just found out my parents are not married. I’m a bastard.” She whispered her confession.
“What was that?” Alexander leaned in closer.
“I’m a bastard.” She shouted at him then remembered where they were and got hold of herself. In a quiet voice she continued. “You might not want me for a wife any longer. It might be best if you looked for someone else to wed. I do not want to embarrass you with my illegitimacy.”
“I think I know what is best for me and having you as my wife is just that. Besides, you are not a bastard. You are a love child. Your parents love each other very much. Regrettably they could never wed.”
Gusty didn’t bother pointing out that “love child” was simply a nicer word for “bastard”.
“Why could they never marry? Did she come to live here at the convent because he didn’t want her?”
“Nay. Her father—your grandfather—sent her to live here because she became pregnant out of wedlock. This situation was unacceptable. Your father could not marry your mother because he was married to another woman. And although he does not live with his wife and has not spoken to her in twenty years, he is still
married to her.”
“Oh. I see.” She gave him a speculative look. “You didn’t get my father’s permission before you handfasted me, did you?” Having a mother and father warmed her heart but if they were not happy with her choice of husband, there well might be a feud within the family.
“Nay I did not seek out the Sinclair to get permission. I had permission from Hagen and he acted as your father’s agent. That was good enough for me.”
“My father did not know about us until this morning. He will want to speak to you about our relationship. I don’t think he likes you very much. I don’t think he likes the notion of me being handfasted or married to any man.”
“That is understandable but once he finds out who you have wed—”
“He will be pleased?” she asked hopefully.
“Nay I doubt it.”
“Why is that?”
“The Sinclairs and Sutherlands are always on the edge of a good feud as it is. This may push us into an all-out war.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you still a virgin?” Malcolm asked.
“That is none of your concern!” Gusty blurted out her answer. The intimate nature of her father’s questions had taken her by surprise. She stood glaring up at the man, face and neck burning. Mortified, she thought back to the night she and Alexander had first made love.
An awkward silence filled the air between them. They had barely met and were about to have their first quarrel as father and daughter. The topic was one Gusty had never expected to have with anyone, let alone a man she barely knew…father or no. Never before had she faced such embarrassment, not to mention she disliked the attitude her father was taking regarding her love life.
She refused to answer. The status of her virtue was none of his damn business.
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