Wearing a grim expression, Spring entered and crossed the courtyard. Shes not in her chamber, she told the countess. Percy and Madame Devereux exchanged worried glances.
If shes run, Richard snarled, Ill flay her alive.
Humph! Heather snorted derisively. Bries too much of a coward to . . . Here she is. Dressed for traveling in a dark woolen safeguard and cloak, Brigette entered the courtyard from the castles chapel and smiled apologetically.
They thought youd run! Heather exclaimed. I told them —
I was bidding farewell to Father.
The countesss expression softened and she opened her arms to her daughter. Like a bereft child, Brigette flung herself into her mothers embrace. She closed her eyes, felt the warmth of her mothers love, and knew nothing would be the same after that day. When Brigette left Basildon, she would be leaving her childhood behind.
Im afraid, Brigette whispered.
Her mother tilted her chin up and smiled sadly. Theres nothing to fear, sweet. If Lord Percy is any indication, your husband is a good man. Will you promise me something, Brie?
Brigette nodded. Yes . . . anything.
You are impulsive at times, she said. Before you do or say anything, remember you are an earls daughter. Can you do that for me?
Yes, I promise.
The countess kissed Brigette, then held her close. Say good-bye to your brother and sister, she whispered finally.
Brigette turned to Heather. Weeping, the sisters flew into each others arms.
Im sorry I frightened you, Heather sobbed. Im certain Lord MacArthur doesnt kill for pleasure.
And Im sorry I insulted you, Brigette returned. I like your freckles. Youll write? Heather nodded, and they hugged each other a final time.
Brigette looked at her brother. His lips quivered with the effort not to cry. Farewell, my Lord Earl, she said and curtsyed.
In a most undignified manner, the young lord threw himself into his sisters arms and nearly toppled her over in his distress. Ill miss you, Brie.
Learn your lessons well, Richard, Brigette said, hugging him close, and youll grow into as fine a man as Father.
I will, Richard promised, then glanced sidelong at Percy. If you need me, he whispered, send word.
Brigette stood and kissed Sir Henry on each cheek. I will also miss you, my lord. Youve been like a father these past years, and I thank you for caring.
Be happy, Brie.
Brigette nodded, then turned to Percy. Im ready.
Percy helped her mount, then mounted his own stallion. Brigette saw the Scotsman Jamie lift Spring onto her horse and was glad her cousin was traveling with her. At least she would have one friend in her husbands home.
Percy shouted a command. Surrounded by her husbands men-at-arms, Lady MacArthur began her long journey to Scotland. They rode in silence at a leisurely pace, and Brigette studied the countryside, consigning it to her memory. It would be a long, long time before shed see her homeland again.
The morning progressed and as the sky gradually lightened, so, too, did Brigettes mood. Why must I suffer with an ignorant husband? she thought. Because the queen commanded it? Bah! If living with the heathen proves intolerable, Ill run away!
Approving of her newfound confidence, the sun broke free of its confining cloud cover. Brigette, feeling the excitement of high adventure, giggled with youthful joy and spurred her horse forward. Racing against an invisible opponent, she galloped ahead of her escort. Cursing, Percy bolted after her.
Glancing back, Brigette saw Percy gaining on her. She spurred her horse faster, but his stallion was too potent for her gelding. Percy shouted for Brigette to stop, but she ignored him. He reached over and yanked the reins from her hands, forcing the gelding to slow and then stop.
Dinna be ridin ahead wiout givin fair warnin, Percy scolded. Its dangerous!
The sun is shining and its grand being alive! Brigette exclaimed, undaunted by his sternness. Her joy was contagious, and in spite of himself, Percy smiled. Glancing back at their approaching entourage, she added, I do not approve of the way your man Jamie has been eyeing Spring.
I hadna noticed her complainin, Percy said. I did notice, however, yer changin the subject.
How very astute of you!
Seriously, he added, ye canna take off like that whenever ye wish. Its impossible to protect ye and there could be highwaymen lurkin aboot.
Oh. Brigette nudged her horse closer to his and looked around, half expecting to be attacked.
Percy, she asked suddenly, why did Lord Iain seek an English bride?
Twas Black Jacks idea. Politics, Im supposin.
Politics?
Why did yer queen match ye wi a Scotsman?
Probably so thered be one less papist in England to worry about, Brigette replied drily.
As I said, politics.
Each passing mile saw Brigettes mood and derriere chafed by the endless ride. By dusk, her excitement had vanished. They stopped for the night at St. Albans, a town overlooking the Ver River.
They halted in front of the Red Lion Inn where they were expected, one of the MacArthur men having ridden ahead to make arrangements. Too fatigued even to dismount, Brigette swayed precariously in her saddle.
Puir lassie, Percy clucked. He lifted and carried Brigette into the inns common room. The innkeeper, a short and stocky man, led him immediately to Brigettes chamber. An equally suffering Spring followed behind.
No! Brigette cried, realizing Percy meant to set her down on the bed. Ill eat standing and sleep on my stomach.
Hiding his amusement, Percy turned to Spring. Jamie will be back wi supper. Be ready to leave at dawn.
The door closed, and fully clothed, Brigette lay facedown on the bed. Forget my supper, cuz. Im too weary to chew. The last word was barely out of her mouth and Brigette was asleep.
After five days in the saddle, Brigette and Spring were still sore, but suffering less. Theyd traveled north, passing through Leicester, Derby, Sheffield, and the medieval town of York.
York was the end of civilization as Brigette knew it. At night, Spring and she slept on uncomfortable cots in a tent raised by the MacArthur men. Unbelievable as it was to the Englishwomen, the hearty Scotsmen wrapped themselves in their black and green plaids and slept comfortably enough on the ground.
Commiserating about their calloused buttocks and debating whether the sun would ever be seen again, Brigette and Spring rode together, surrounded by the MacArthur men. Glancing away from her cousin, Brigette was stunned by the sight just ahead.
Look! she cried, pointing a finger.
On the horizon was a carpet of purple heather. Breathtaking mountains, painted a vibrant green by their blanket of trees, rose majestically in the distance.
Alarmed by Brigettes cry, the MacArthur men drew their swords. Realizing there was no danger, Percy ordered the men to sheath their weapons, then reined in beside the two women.
Your Highlands are beautiful! Brigette exclaimed.
Highlands? Percy was confused.
Look there, Percy. The Highlands!
Och, lass! Weve just left England behind. Percy dissolved into laughter and was joined by his men. Its the Cheviot Hills, Brie, no the Highlands. Its part of the borderlands — Bothwells country.
Bothwell?
The Earl of Bothwell, he told her. Unfortunately, we willna be enjoyin Jamie Hepburns renowned hospitality. Hes a guest of yer queen, in the Tower, but accordin to rumor, hell soon be freed.
Whatever did he do to be imprisoned in the Tower?
Do? Percy shrugged his shoulders. Nothin, as far as I know.
Then why —
Yer queen doesna need a reason, Percy interrupted. Its as I said before — politics.
Oh.
Ive sent a mon ahead to tell the earls men that well be passin through, he added. I dinna want them attackin us.
Attack? Spring cried, alarmed.
Percy glanced at his sister-in-laws tirewoman. The earls moss troopers are f
ierce.
And border raidin maintains their battle readiness, spoke Jamie, who had reined in beside Spring. Dinna worry aboot them, lass. Ill protect ye wi my life. Spring smiled radiantly at him, and over her head, Jamie cast Percy a meaningful look.
Lets ride ahead, Percy suggested, turning to Brigette. If yer interested, Ill tell ye a bit of Scotlands history.
They galloped ahead a short distance, then slowed their horses to a more leisurely pace, being careful to stay within sight of the MacArthur warriors. Brigette smiled expectantly at Percy.
The greatest of Scotlands heroes is Robert the Bruce, he began, who bested yer English forces at Bannockburn.
I dont believe you! Brigette cried indignantly. Ive never heard of the Scots beating the English.
I amna surprised, Percy returned, but its true. Robert the Steward was the Bruces grandson and James the first was Roberts grandson. All the royal Stewarts, includin Queen Marys father, have ended tragically. Percy warmed to his subject. James the first was assassinated. His son, James the second, was crowned king when he was a six-year-old. Unfortunately, he was accidentally killed by an explodin cannon, and his son, James the third, came to the throne at nine years of age. Like his grandfather before him, James the third was also assassinated. James the fourth married Margaret Tudor, yer queens aunt. His fatal error was invadin England — bein defeated and killed at Flodden.
I know of Flodden, Brigette interjected.
Percy smiled wryly. Again, I amna surprised.
I believe tis best a country emphasizes its victories and virtues, Brigette said loftily, but a mischievous smile flirted with the corners of her lips. Do continue.
James the fifth, Margaret Tudors son and yer queens cousin, married Mary of Guise. Queen Mary is their daughter. Puir James died only a few hours after she was born. Some say he was heartbroken he didna produce a legitimate male heir. A number of his bastards are scattered across the land, some acknowledged and some not.
How sad!
I hope, he added, whatever curse is upon the Stewart family will be broken wi our bonnie Queen Mary.
It would be wise, Brigette commented, if she refrained from naming any son of hers James.
I agree wi ye. Percy chuckled at her reasoning. But then, how could an English lady know the mighty power of the clans? She would never understand the love-hate relationship that generations of self-serving Stewart monarchs had with the Highland chiefs, who were independent monarchs on their own lands. Mostly, the Stewarts suffering was wholly deserved.
Well, lass. Percy changed the subject. Two days and a night of travelin will see us at Dunridge.
So soon? Brigettes voice was unmistakably apprehensive.
Theres nae need to worry, Brie, Percy said. Iain is a good mon. As a matter of fact, Ill be surprised if we dinna see him before then.
What do you mean?
If Black Jack returns to Dunridge, Iain will surely ride out to greet ye. Im certain hes anxious to meet his bride.
The next morning Jamie was, as usual, standing beside Springs horse, awaiting her arrival. Pleased but shy, Spring approached with a smile on her lips.
Sweet Spring, Jamie teased. Ye were aptly named. Its my favorite season of the year.
Spring blushed furiously. I never knew the Scots were such outrageous flatterers.
It isna flattery. With one calloused hand, he cupped her chin. Be there any more at home as sweet as ye?
Three half sisters, she whispered, disconcerted by his touch. April, May, and June.
April, M-May, and J-J-June? Jamie sputtered, bringing a smile to her expression. I need no ask when they were born. Only half sisters? Is yer mother dead, then?
No. Spring looked away uncomfortably. Weve different fathers.
Im sorry ye lost yer own father, he said softly.
You neednt be, she returned. I never had one that I knew.
Im verra sorry, then. Jamie caressed Springs cheek, which burned with shame. I would never cause ye pain.
Jamie! Percy shouted. Cease flirtin wi the lady and help her mount.
Now it was Jamies turn to blush. His face reddened until it almost matched his flame-colored hair, and Spring grinned. Without another word, Jamie hoisted her into the saddle.
Although the day was cloudy and cool, Brigettes disposition was sunny as she rode silently beside Percy. She was nervous about meeting her husband, but glad they would arrive at Dunridge Castle the following day. Her morning hours were spent in dreamy contemplation, not of her husband, but of the steaming tub she would soak in for hours.
You do have tubs for bathing in Scotland, do you not? Brigette asked abruptly.
A smile tugged at the corners of Percys lips. Yes, we do.
Good. Brigette began humming a spritely tune. She could almost feel the waters heat, steaming away her aches and troubles.
Afternoon saw them entering Argyll, the MacArthurs home shire. Aided by low-hanging clouds of dark gray, dusk descended quickly, forcing the MacArthur entourage to make camp earlier than usual. The men divided themselves into two groups. One group went to work raising Brigettes tent while the other lit a cooking fire and began suppers preparation.
When the tent was erected, Spring left the warmth of the fire to make up their cots for the night. Brigette remained by the fire, and soon drowsiness mastered her senses. Her eyelids grew heavy and closed.
Roused by a loud disturbance, Brigettes eyes flew open. Were they being attacked? No sounds of fighting were forthcoming, only the sounds of arriving horses and mens laughter. It must be my husband! she thought. What should I do? If I go to the tent, hell have the advantage of sending for me; but if I stay where I am, hell have the advantage of looking down on me. The most dignified action is to meet Iain MacArthur as an equal. Brigette stood and walked toward the laughter.
As she advanced, Brigette recognized the now-familiar green and black of the MacArthur plaid. With his back to her, Percy greeted a red-haired man who resembled Jamie. She started forward but froze as their conversation reached her ears.
Dugie. Percy shook the others hand. Wheres Iain?
He isna here, Dugie answered. Were to escort ye home.
Black Jack isna returned from Edinburgh?
The laird is returned.
Well, wheres Iain, then?
Lady Antonia was havin some crisis wi wee Glenda. I dinna know what. Dugie grinned. Iain was neatly duped like a striplin lad. Dugie chuckled, then noticed Brigette. Is that the Sassenach bride?
Percy whirled around. Brigettes face was pale, and she shook with fury at her husbands devastating insult. With her lips curled in a silent snarl, Brigette stalked off.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Brigette Devereux MacArthur was no exception. She stormed into the tent, her sudden intrusion startling Spring.
Whats wrong? Spring cried, alarmed by her expression.
Hes insulted me again!
Who?
My husband! Brigette exploded. He sent his men as escort, but did not accompany them. Obviously, Iain MacArthur considers me unimportant!
Perhaps he was unable —
His man gave Percy no good reason for his absence, Brigette snapped. The man laughed. At me!
Oh! Perhaps —
Do not make excuses for a man who does not have one! Brigette roared. Whose side are you on anyway?
Is this a war? Spring returned angrily. Are we to choose sides?
This is no war. Brigettes voice was deadly low. A war must be fought between two, and Ill suffer no more of this.
What are you . . .?
Brie? Percys voice sounded outside the tent.
Tell Percy that I want to be alone, Brigette ordered.
Spring sighed and stepped outside. She wishes to be alone, my lord.
But I must tell her about Antonia.
Antonia?
My brother Malcolms widow, Percy explained. Shes the reason Iain isna here.
Brie is tired, Spring said. Im certain shell be more
understanding in the morning.
Yes, Percy agreed doubtfully, yer probably correct.
3
Well? Spring said, staring at Brigette, who was sitting on one of the cots. At the sound of her cousins voice, Brigette looked up but made no reply.
Brie, what are you going to do?
Nothing, at the moment, she answered. Ive a need to be alone. Why dont you sup with Jamie?
Spring studied Brigette a moment longer, then left. Alone again, Brigettes expression froze in a grimace, her thoughts returning to her husbands devastating insults.
Suddenly, Brigettes lips turned up in a winsome smile, the product of an outrageous idea taking root in her mind. Iain MacArthur needs a lesson in humility, she decided. That he needs his legal wife to beget a legitimate heir is a fact he has forgotten, and reminding him will be my pleasure. I am going home and will not return until that heathen begs on bended knee for my forgiveness!
Brigette leaped from the cot, rummaged through Springs baggage, and pulled out one of her cousins older traveling outfits. She couldnt wear her own clothing on the way home; no one must guess that she was an earls daughter.
Brigette hid the garments beneath her cot, then sat down to plot her escape. Because of the sentries, she could not take her horse. With a sigh, Brigette resigned herself to a very long walk back to Basildon Castle. She gave no thought to food or even where she would sleep, assuming shed find accommodations along the way.
Awakening with a start, Brigette realized shed fallen asleep and almost lost her one chance to escape. Her eyes darted to Springs cot. The other girl slept.
Rising, Brigette reached under the cot and pulled out the borrowed clothes. Quickly and quietly, she stripped and donned the threadbare garments.
On tiptoes, Brigette scurried to the tents flap and listened. Should she venture out or not? All was silent, but she knew the MacArthur guards were lurking somewhere near.
Indecision gripped Brigette. She turned around, deciding to sneak out the back. Spring moaned in her sleep, and Brigette froze, only her eyes moving to where the other girl lay.
Several long moments passed. Reaching the back of the tent, Brigette knelt and lifted the bottom, then peered out at the night. No one was about. On hands and knees, she crawled toward the safety of the forest. When she reached the trees, Brigette stopped and listened for the sounds of alarm. All remained quiet. Slowly, Brigette got to her feet and stepped deeper into the woods.
Highland Belle Page 2