A Beauty at the Highland Court: A Star-Crossed Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 7)

by Celeste Barclay

  “You really have no idea what life is like here, do you?” Lachlan asked. “You sent your youngest child into the lion’s den without knowing what she faced. The only failure here is you. You failed to care for her and protect her, as is your duty both as her father and as her laird.”

  “Shut your gob. No one asked you. You don’t belong here. Who are you to tell me what my daughter’s life is like? You don’t even know her.”

  Arabella squeezed Lachlan’s hand, silently begging him not to argue with Mitcholm. He glanced down at her and shook his head. Someone had to advocate on her behalf because Lachlan knew she feared her father too much to say any more.

  “I had two sisters who served the queen. During their time here, no more than three months went by without either my father or me coming to see my sisters. We didn’t abandon them for a year at a time,” Lachlan’s pointed comment registered with Mitcholm as the older man grimaced. “I have spent more time with Belle than you have in the past five years. I understand her more than you ever have.”

  “Understand? Bah. I understand my daughter has let her clan down, let me down. I sent her here to represent Clan Johnstone. All she had to do was be pretty and laugh at men’s jests. She was to spend her days sewing and her nights dancing. She was to find a husband willing to pay her bride price and form an alliance for our clan. She is useless to us now. There will be an almighty scandal.”

  “I’ll not have her. Midwife or not,” Beathan interjected. “She’s a drunkard and loose. Look at how she carries on with Sutherland. She’s disobedient at best and feral at worst. She won’t shame me among my people. The betrothal is off, Johnstone.” Beathan curled his lip in disgust as he looked at Arabella. “But I’ll take her as my leman if you want to be done with her.”

  “No,” Arabella whimpered. Everything had spiraled out of control. Her father was furious with her, Beathan was disgusted with her, and worst of all, Lachlan was disappointed in her. She feared he stood by her only for appearance’s sake and would turn away from her once they left the Privy Council chamber. Then what would she do? She’d never wanted a drink as badly as she did now. She wanted to lock herself away and drink until she drowned herself in whisky.

  “She won’t be any mon’s leman, since she will be my wife,” Lachlan enunciated each word. Arabella snapped her head up in surprise. She hadn’t expected Lachlan to still wish to marry her, and she hadn’t anticipated him announcing it. “I will pay whatever bride price you demand, and a priest will read the banns this Sunday.”

  “Nay.” Mitcholm shook his head before turning to Beathan. “Let the midwife examine her. When she’s proven to be a maiden, we’ll finalize our agreement. We both stand to profit from this union. Don’t throw that away, mon. My daughter may be a foolish chit, but you are the mon to take her in hand. You heard Sutherland. He won’t do it.”

  “The bride price is half,” Beathan countered.

  “Fine,” Mitcholm nodded.

  “You Majesty,” Lachlan looked at his godfather, catching the monarch’s stunned silence. “Lady Arabella isn’t a broodmare to be haggled over. I ken you’re aware of the Gunn’s reputation with women. Is the queen?”

  “Are you threatening me, Lachlan?” King Robert crossed his arms.

  “I would never dare to do such a thing. I just wondered if my godmother was aware of what awaits one of her favorite ladies. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of upset to Her Grace while she’s in such a fragile condition. Being so close to her confinement.” Lachlan cocked an eyebrow, and he was certain King Robert understood he sought retribution for the king’s threat against Arabella and Lachlan’s family the evening they found the royal couple in the antechamber. “I believe my godmother would be most disturbed to learn of Beathan’s reputation.”

  “My reputation?” Beathan hissed.

  “Aye. The one for beating your leman. The one for strangling a whore while you rutted. The one for liking girls young enough to be your daughter. That one.”

  “Sutherland!” Beathan bellowed as he pulled a hidden dirk from his belt. In the same moment, Lachlan drew his own knife from his belt. He may have left most of his weapons on the floor, but he was never completely unarmed.

  “Lach,” Arabella whispered. She looked at the four angry men, focusing on Lachlan and Beathan. They looked ready to murder one another, and Arabella realized this went deeper than just her possible marriage. Her betrothal was the scab that had been scratched off an old wound. Neither man continued to pretend that acrimony didn’t exist between the Sutherlands and Gunns. Exhaustion, fear, and withdrawal made Arabella’s mind grow cloudy. Black spots danced at the corners of her eyes, and the ground seemed to shift under her feet. She grabbed Lachlan’s arm, and managed to say his name again. “Lach.”

  Lachlan heard the desperation in Arabella’s voice and turned to her in time to see her eyes shut as she crumpled. He dropped his knife and caught her. He swept her into his arms, and without sparing a glance at anyone, he marched out of the Privy chamber. He heard the others calling his name, but he was unwavering in his course. He carried Arabella to his chamber, finding a page and summoning the healer along the way.

  Sitting on the end of the bed with Arabella in his lap, Lachlan unfastened the clasp of Arabella’s cape and loosened the ties at the sides of her kirtle. He wouldn’t go so far as to undress her, but he hoped the loosened gown would make it easier for her to breathe. He noticed scratches on the back of her hands for the first time. When he pushed her sleeves back, he discovered more on her wrists and arms. There were red marks on her neck, and he pushed her sleeves down her shoulders to examine them. He could see more marks, but none had broken the skin like on her hands and wrists.

  “Belle, what did they do to you?” Lachlan moaned. He reached down and pulled off her boots, surprised to find her bare feet. He recalled that she must have dressed in the dark and not bothered with stockings. “Mo chridhe, you’re safe now. Safe from it all.”

  Seventeen

  Lachlan stood and carried Arabella to the side of the bed and laid her down before moving to the pitcher and ewer that held fresh water. He soaked a cloth in the cool water, then lathered soap onto it. He returned to Arabella’s side and with a gentleness he didn’t know he possessed, he washed her face, neck, and hands. When he was satisfied that at least the dungeon grime was removed, if not the stench, he carried a chair to her bedside. He sat and held her hand until someone knocked at his door. He recalled how his morning began with Rebekah pounding on his door. This was softer and less demanding. He sighed, knowing it wasn’t Mitcholm, Beathan, or a royal guard come to drag them apart. He eased the door open and found a withered monk standing before him. He recognized the man as the castle’s healer. Maude was well versed in medicinals, so she had worked with the man often. She’d spoken of the priest often and introduced Lachlan to him on more than one occasion. While a little doddering with age, he still had a fine memory as a physician.

  “Father Gormal, thank you for coming,” Lachlan nodded as he let the monk into the chamber.

  “The lad made it sound like it was life or death. Something aboot an angel dying.” Father Gormal stopped short when he noticed Arabella on Lachlan’s bed. He cast a suspicious glance at Lachlan before limping to Arabella’s side. “She does look like an angel. But a fallen one.”

  “Nay, Father. She is still pure, and she is an angel. But she’s unwell. She hasn’t been eating much lately, and she spent two nights in the dungeon.”

  “The dungeon?” Father Gormal held up a hand and shook his head. “I don’t want to ken. But I will pray for her soul all the same. Why is she here instead of her own chamber?”

  “I don’t trust her father to ensure she receives proper care.” Lachlan didn’t add that he didn’t trust Beathan not to take advantage of Arabella.

  “She needs her maid to undress her, and you must leave,” the old priest insisted.

  “I will send for her maid, but I’m going nowhere. I will turn my back
or stand behind the screen, but I’m not leaving as long as Lady Arabella is unwell. She is under my protection.”

  “Your protection, lad? And who does she need protecting from in this chamber? I’m an old mon, but you’re a healthy young stripling. I think she’s safer with me,” Father Gormal grinned.

  “Be that as it may, I’m not leaving,” Lachlan insisted.

  “Very well. Send for the maid.”

  Lachlan followed the priest’s instructions and stuck his head out of the door. He caught sight of another page and summoned him. The messenger boys weren’t usually so easy to find, but Lachlan thanked God for His intervention. With his request on the way, Lachlan turned back to the priest who was running his withered fingers over Arabella’s throat and neck.

  “How long has she been asleep?” Father Gormal inquired.

  “She collapsed aboot a half an hour ago. She’s unconscious, not asleep, Father.”

  “She might have been when she keeled over, but she’s sleeping now. I tried to wake her while you were at the door, but she batted my hands and attempted to roll away.” Lachlan walked back to the bed, and Father Gormal stepped aside as Lachlan took Arabella’s hand. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her contented sigh encouraged him. He brushed his lips against hers, ignoring the priest’s throat clearing. Arabella’s eyes fluttered open until their mouths joined. She returned Lachlan’s kiss and even lifted her hand to his shoulder.

  “I love you, Belle,” Lachlan whispered.

  “Still?” Arabella questioned.

  “Always. I’m not well pleased with you at the moment, but I will always love you,” Lachlan promised.

  Arabella smiled wanly before looking around. Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Where am I?” She tried to lift her head but winced. “And I love you, too.”

  “You’re in my chamber. I feared your father would go to your chamber and what would happen if he did. Your maid is on her way to help you undress. I will send for a bath, and Father Gormal will examine you.”

  Arabella shook her head and tried to sit up. As soon as she put weight on her arms, they buckled. She fell back against the pillow and groaned. “A bath and something to eat will set me to rights. I need not be examined.”

  “But your hands and wrists. I saw the scratches. Who did that? Or rather, what did that? Rats?”

  “Nay.” Arabella had the audacity to grin, and she thought Lachlan’s teeth would chip away as he ground them. “I did them to myself. I pretended to be ill to get out of the cell they put me in at first. I feared all the men in there and risked being put somewhere else before the faint light let them see my face yesterday morn. I ended up in the oubliette for it, but at least I was alone and untouched.” Arabella felt a jolt of panic as she looked up at Lachlan. “I swear to you, no mon touched me.”

  Lachlan cast a quick glance at Father Gormal, who discreetly backed away. “Belle, I am glad to hear you weren’t hurt. But I wouldn’t turn you away. It wouldn’t have been your fault.”

  “But I snuck out of the keep. They caught me at a tavern. They threw me in the dungeon.”

  “Aye. You made poor choices. But that doesn’t mean you’d ever deserve a man assaulting you. It wouldn’t be your fault, and I wouldn’t abandon you. That would be his crime, not yours.”

  “But—”

  Lachlan shook his head and dropped a kiss on her lips to silence Arabella. “No buts, Belle. I love you and want to marry you. Our vows will say for better, for worse, in sickness and in health. I mean it now, just like I will the day we marry and every day after that. It’s not conditional. No matter what, I love you.”

  “Lach,” Arabella croaked as tears brimmed her eyes. “How am I so lucky to have a mon with such honor love me?”

  “Luck has naught to do with it. You are a kindhearted, generous, funny, caring, at times recklessly daring woman. You made a mistake, even though you usually make wiser choices. But no one is perfect. Not you, not me, not anyone. Only Christ was perfect, and there is but one of Him.”

  “I think you are the wise one,” Arabella smiled.

  Lachlan grinned and nodded. “I am because I’m making you my wife. If your father won’t agree and have the banns posted, we’ll handfast. It’s a family tradition.”

  Arabella laughed softly. “I ken. I know how Maude and Blair married their husbands, and I’ve heard the tales aboot your Sinclair cousins.”

  A single knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Father Gormal cast a glance at Lachlan and Arabella before hobbling to the door. He opened it wider once he discovered Eliza on the other side. The maid entered with fresh clothing over her arm.

  “My lady,” Eliza greeted Arabella. “I was so afraid. I’ve called for a bath, and I’ll have you right as rain soon enough.”

  “While we wait for the hot water, assist your lady with her gown, then I will examine her,” Father Gormal’s soft voice belied the command in his words. “Behind the screen, Sutherland, or out you go.”

  Lachlan nodded but looked at Arabella before he moved. When she nodded, he walked to the screen and pulled it open. He stood behind it, wishing he could catch a peek at Arabella. He realized it wasn’t lust that drove him. He was anxious about her being out of his sight, lest someone steal her away. And he feared that her injuries might be worse than she admitted. He heard the rustling of clothes and whispers, but he couldn’t make out what the monk or the maid said. Lachlan wished he had room to pace. The minutes felt like hours, even though it hadn’t been that long since he stepped behind the partition.

  “The lass is well. You can come back.” Father Gormal called out. Lachlan stepped around the screen as the priest handed Arabella a flask. “This should get you warm.”

  Lachlan was aghast as he watched Arabella snatch the whisky from the monk’s hand and tip it to her mouth. She guzzled the contents rather than taking a sip. Even as he stomped to her side, she continued to drink. When the small jug was empty, she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. But she didn’t look the least affected by the strong alcohol. In fact, it looked as though the whisky had done little to Arabella.

  “How do you drink that without it making your eyes water or making your splutter?” Lachlan demanded. He watched Arabella shrink back against the cover. Her shoulders rounded as she tried to make herself smaller, and her head turned while pulling back as though she prepared for him to strike her.

  “Belle, I’m still angry with you, and I’m still scared. But I will never raise my hand to you,” Lachlan softened his tone as he took a seat beside her on the mattress. When she still looked doubtful, he slid his hand beneath hers and brought it to his mouth. He kissed each knuckle before turning it over and kissing the pad of each finger. Moving slowly, so as not to scare her, he reached out his other hand and cupped her jaw. His thumb brushed over her lips before sweeping back and forth across her cheek.

  “I will leave this salve and be on my way,” Father Gormal muttered, but neither Lachlan nor Arabella paid attention until Eliza opened the door for the monk. Lachlan called out his thanks but didn’t take his eyes off Arabella. It wasn’t long after that when servants arrived with a tub and buckets of steaming water. Once the tub was full and the servants left, Lachlan helped Arabella to stand. She and Eliza looked at him expectantly. Arabella blinked rapidly when Lachlan shook his head and ordered Eliza to leave, swearing the maid to secrecy on pain of death.

  “Lachlan?” Arabella stood shocked as her maid slipped out of the chamber.

  “Belle, just as I promised you in the alcove, you will leave here still a maiden, but let me take care of you.” Lachlan said as he approached, then stepped around to face her back.

  With some reluctance, Arabella agreed. As Lachlan helped her out of her chemise, her dress having been taken off before her examination, Arabella released a breathy chuckle. “Will you still be my lady’s maid once we’re married?”

  “I shall be your only maid,” Lachlan whispered beside her ear. His warm bre
ath made her shiver. “I shall tend to you morning, noon, and night. Though I shall prefer undressing you in the eve to dressing you in the morn.”

  Arabella shivered again as her chemise slid down her body to pool at her feet. Lachlan’s hands traced the path the garment had taken until they rested on her hips. He stepped closer, so his body pressed against hers, and he planted kisses on her neck.

  “And will a maid scrub your back?” Arabella asked breathily.

  “No one has bathed me since I was a wean. But I shall gladly accept your assistance if you’re offering.”

  Arabella drew in a fortifying breath before she turned around. Lachlan sucked in his own breath as heat surged through his body as his first sight of Arabella’s bare body.

  “If I thought I could withstand the temptation, we’d share our first bath right now,” Lachlan admitted. He raised his hand to touch her breast but hesitated. He was unsure of what to do. He wanted to touch her everywhere, but dared not touch her anywhere. “Belle, you are a beautiful woman, and I’m undeniably physically attracted to you. But I want you to know that I want to make love to you not because of your appearance, but because my heart demands I show you how much I love you. I know I don’t have the words.”

  “I think those words were perfect. Lach, I’ve never admitted how handsome I think you are. It was never appropriate, but I need you to ken that you are the brawest, most desirable mon I have ever seen. But I love you for far more than your good looks. My eyes, and the rest of my body, are keenly aware of how attractive you are. But my mind and my heart ken what a good mon you are. And that’s why I love you.”

  They came together in a passionate kiss, neither knowing who initiated it, but both knowing they didn’t want it to end. Arabella’s arms wrapped around Lachlan’s waist as one of his encased her waist while the other encircled her shoulders. She titled her head and opened her mouth wider, inviting him in. As they kissed, Arabella’s frustration grew that Lachlan’s leine kept her from touching his skin as he did hers. She pulled away.