“Mayhap, but we’re here now,” Lachlan replied. He sounded unruffled, but Arabella knew her words stung him. She wanted to apologize, but she lost the ability to speak as she watched her father approach. She whimpered, and Lachlan wrapped his arm low around her hips.
“Wheest, mo ghaol. Partners. Remember?”
Arabella gave a jerky nod, but she feared whatever her father would have to say. She drew in a deep breath and held it as Mitcholm came to stand across the table from them.
“You little whore,” he hissed, pointing his finger at Arabella. “You have ruined everything. You were seen leaving Sutherland’s chamber. Everyone is talking aboot it. You had your chance to seduce him and bed him, but you waited until the mon you’re supposed to marry arrives to play the harlot. It won’t work, Bella. I’ll send you to a convent before you marry him.” Mitcholm thrust his chin at Lachlan.
Lachlan waited for Arabella to reply, but when he knew she wouldn’t. He spoke up. “Call her by aught but her name, and I will cut your tongue out. Disappointed or not, Lady Arabella is still just that, a lady. And she’s your daughter. You shame yourself as much as you do her. What honorable mon will respect you when you spew such filth at a woman? Where is your composure as a laird?”
Mitcholm straightened to his full height. He carried several extra stones on his frame, and being only of medium height, he was portly with middle age. Arabella nearly giggled as she imagined her father trying to put up a fight against Lachlan. She knew Lachlan wouldn’t hurt her father for her sake, but she didn’t doubt he would defend her. The giggle she stifled bubbled into a hysteria she struggled to control. She sucked in another breath, not noticing when she released the last one, as her father swung his livid face back to her.
“God wasted everything on you. God wasted your beauty on you. I gave you the best clothing, the most expensive jewels, music lessons, a fine horse. All for what? You’re aboot as perfect as a sow in muck,” Mitcholm seethed.
“Enough,” Lachlan growled. “No one is perfect. Your expectation that Lady Arabella be so is your flaw, not hers. If you must pin your clan’s hopes on one lass’s shoulders, then you are hardly the laird you present yourself as. If you intend to wash your hands of Lady Arabella, then do so now. But you will not speak to her, or any woman, like that. The only disgrace I see is you.”
As Lachlan defended her, Arabella realized he hadn’t exaggerated when he said he would stand beside her no matter what. His protectiveness gave her courage to speak up for herself. She wanted to prove to him that she wasn’t meek. She needed him to know she could stand on her own two feet, as she would have to as his wife. She lifted her chin and set back her shoulders.
“Father, I didn’t set out to embarrass you or disappoint you. That was an accident. One I wish I could undo, but I can’t. I’m sorry for what I’ve done, and I hope you can forgive me. But I’m not the only one to err. You are too stubborn. You’ve heard Lachlan say he wishes to marry me. You could have a daughter who is one day the Countess of Sutherland, but because you don’t want to relent, you’d marry me to a murderer and rapist. However, you seem to have forgotten or mayhap overlooked that no priest in Scotland will marry an unwilling woman. Put me before a kirk with any mon but Lachlan, and I will refuse to say my vows.”
“Very well,” Mitcholm sounded as though he conceded. Arabella thought she’d made progress, but he ripped her false sense of security away with his next words. “You can say your vows in a convent. I control your dowry, and you will go where it goes. You shall become a nun.”
“Father!” Arabella gasped.
“Keep her dowry. My clan and I have no need of it,” Lachlan interjected.
“Sutherland, I swear to you. Keep out of it or I will make you rue the day you met my daughter.”
“Never,” Lachlan growled. “This conversation is over.”
“It is not,” Mitcholm argued. “I will take this up with the king.”
“Do as you please,” Lachlan sniffed. He rose and held out his hand to Arabella, praying she would take it. “Shall we go?”
Arabella didn’t hesitate, nor did she spare her father a glance. She laid her hand in his and stepped over the bench. Once more, she kept her eyes ahead of her, but as they approached the table where her guards and the other Johnstones sat, she locked eyes with her guard Edwin. She knew he understood her beseeching look when it was met with surprise and a brief shake of his head. Her brow furrowed as she felt desperation tugging at her once more. Edwin must have seen it because he nodded once. Arabella exhaled slowly. She only had to wait till morning. Then she would have her whisky, and even if things continued to fall apart, at least she could manage it with calmer nerves.
“Are you all right?” Lachlan whispered as they entered the passageway. Arabella had gone pale as her father ranted at her, but she had bright spots of color slashed across her cheeks after standing up to him. He felt her tremble as they sat together on the bench, and the tension radiated from her as they left the Great Hall. He’d seen one of her guards’ expressions, but he hadn’t been able to read Arabella’s. He’d noticed the nod the man offered, and it made Lachlan uneasy. He disliked feeling like he couldn’t trust Arabella. It was odd and troubling, but she’d broken his trust with her recent choices. He struggled to reconcile the woman he knew her to be and loved unconditionally with the woman she’d been since he returned to court. He knew that much like his anger stemmed from fear, so did his mistrust. He was frightened of what she might do next.
“Belle?”
“Hmm? Och, aye. I’m well. Just a wee unsettled, I suppose.” Arabella tried to downplay just how upset she was. She didn’t want to worry Lachlan, and she didn’t want to talk. She wanted to escape to her chamber and wait for Edwin to arrive with her whisky. She glanced up at Lachlan and found him staring down at her. She felt exposed and scrutinized as his piercing brown eyes bored into hers. He was far too perceptive by half, and she feared he would deduce what she was up to.
“Your guard gave you a funny look as we left,” Lachlan mentioned as casually as he could.
“Oh?”
“Aye. I couldn’t see the look you must have given him first, but what was he nodding his head to?” Lachlan pressed.
“Edwin and I are distant cousins, and we have known each other since we were weans. But he’s a friend of one of my brothers and spent a great deal of time with my father before becoming my guard. I was hoping he might settle my father’s ruffled feathers. I don’t think he wants to try, but he will.” Arabella didn’t dare smile, fearing Lachlan would see through her imitated cheer to the brazen falsehood she told.
It’s not quite a lie. I mean, I have kenned Edwin since we were weans, and he is my brother’s friend. But he won’t dare speak to Father. He won’t get in his way, and he won’t want to answer any questions.
“It seems our attempt at causing a scandal aboot our relationship worked. From what your father said, his concern was the talk aboot you leaving my chamber. He said naught aboot the gaol.”
“Thank heavens. I’m not ashamed of people talking aboot me being with you. I much prefer that. I’m proud of that.” Unlike everything else aboot my life right now.
“Do you think your father will send you to a convent?” Lachlan asked slowly. Arabella drew her lips into a thin line before nodding.
“I do,” she confessed.
“Belle, what do you want to do? You ken I’ll marry you as soon as I can. We can see if we can change your father’s mind aboot the convent and our marrying. We can wait, or we can handfast.”
“I—I want to—. Lach, I don’t know what I should do,” Arabella admitted. “I know what I want. But I don’t know if I dare defy my father. What trouble will it bring you and your clan?”
“None,” Lachlan replied resolutely.
“You are not that naïve. Don’t shield me from this, please.”
“Belle, your father will return to the West Marches and will soon have a daughter who is married to
the Earl of Sutherland’s son, nephew to the Earl of Ross, nephew-by-marriage to the Earl of Sinclair. He will crow aboot it to anyone who will listen. He’s angry now because he doesn’t have the control over you he assumed he’d have. He’s embarrassed and angry. But Belle, how much do you really care aboot his opinion after what he’s said and how he’s treated you in the past?”
“He’s still my father, Lach. We aren’t all as blessed as you and your sisters to come from a perfect family.”
“We are hardly all perfect,” Lachlan mumbled. Arabella regretted her comment. Despite the years and Maude now being happily married with three children, Lachlan carried immense guilt over causing Maude’s eating disorder and self-esteem troubles when she was younger. Even though Maude reassured him that he wasn’t the reason and that he’d actually saved her life, Arabella knew he was determined to be the best brother and the best man he could to make up for it.
“I’m sorry I said that. I don’t want to go back to bickering and sniping. I want to marry you. Today. But I’m scared of the fallout. Can we at least wait until Beathan leaves? I don’t want to pour salt in that wound for either Beathan or my father. I’d rather just stay out of sight. I ken that makes me a coward.”
“No, it doesn’t. It’s probably the wisest thing to do. But what if your father tries to take you to a convent?”
“He won’t right away. He must find one that will accept me, and he must arrange for my dowry to be delivered. Mayhap the king will even step in before then. I don’t know, but I think we have a couple of days before aught else will happen.”
“And in the meantime? You can’t ignore your duties to the queen,” Lachlan pointed out.
“I ken. We made our point this eve. I can manage gossip aboot us. I will return to my duties tomorrow, and the rumors will feed themselves. At least Bonnie Bella’s fall from grace lands her beside the brawest mon she’s ever met,” Arabella grinned. Lachlan pulled her into his arms, uncaring of who might see them.
“Beside me, beneath me, above me. I’ll have you next to me anyway I can,” Lachlan murmured before their mouths sought each other. The kiss overflowed with the passion from earlier that day. Lachlan groaned as his desire to thrust inside her, claim her so that no one could separate them, roared to life. Arabella pulled away too soon for his liking.
“What if my father can’t separate us?” Arabella asked. “I mean, if there’s a chance I might carry the future heir to Clan Sutherland, there isn’t any choice but to allow us to marry.”
Lachlan stood in stunned silence. While he’d just thought about how much he wanted to do just what Arabella suggested, it shocked him to hear her say it aloud. His honor screamed that he couldn’t do it even while his body encouraged him. He wrestled with what he knew was right and what he wanted above all else. He cupped Arabella’s cheek as she gazed earnestly into his eyes.
“It’s one thing for people to gossip aboot us because someone claimed to see us together. Everyone kens most rumors here are fabricated. There’s as much room to believe it’s untrue as there is to argue that it is. But that—that would destroy your reputation, and it would never be forgotten. I don’t want you to live with a blemished reputation, with people looking down on you and talking aboot you behind your back for the rest of time.”
“And if I want it to be true?” Arabella whispered.
“One day, when the Lord blesses us, it will be. And once we marry, I will endeavor to make that day sooner rather than later.” Lachlan waggled his brows, eliciting a tinkle of laughter from Arabella. “But I won’t destroy your name in the process. I will come out unscathed, while you will bear the stigma forever. And I absolutely will not have anyone speculate the only reason I married you is because we got caught. I will let no one say that I was forced into marrying you. I want it clear to any and every one that I love you, and that’s why I married you.”
“I trust you,” Arabella murmured. Lachlan saw the apprehension in Arabella’s eyes and knew she feared that he couldn’t say the same.
“You broke my trust in some ways, but not entirely. It can be rebuilt, mo chridhe.”
“I want to,” Arabella blurted. “More than aught.” But in the back of her mind, she knew continuing to drink could destroy what was left of his faith in her. But the craving for whisky, the memory of how it made life easier, was even more powerful than what the alcohol did when she drank it.
“I ken, Belle.” Lachlan and Arabella arrived at her door, but neither hurried to open it. He pressed a feather-soft kiss to her lips, not trusting himself to take it any deeper lest their conversation be for naught when they landed on the bed together. The shadows beneath her eyes had deepened since their encounter with her father. He knew she was exhausted. “Go to sleep, mo ghaol. You need more rest.”
“I do. Now that I’m so close to my bed, I suddenly feel like I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“Then sleep well, and I shall find you in the morn. I love you.”
“I love you, mo chridhe.” Arabella smiled shyly, uncertain whether she sounded foolish using one of the three Gaelic phrases she knew. When Lachlan’s proud smile returned, she fell against his chest. His solid heartbeat and warm body beneath her cheek steadied her. His arms came around her, and he kissed the top of her head.
“Partners. Remember that. In everything. We shall get through this together,” Lachlan promised, his voice muffled by her hair as he kissed her crown again. Arabella nodded, then stepped back. Lachlan watched her slip into her chamber before he turned toward his own.
Twenty
Arabella pretended to sleep as she listened to Rebekah and her maid tiptoe around the chamber. She’d cracked an eye open and told her roommate that she needed more sleep. She would skip Mass and the morning meal, then join Queen Elizabeth and her ladies for the queen’s morning walk through the gardens. She deepened her breathing, hoping the soft sighs would convince the two women that she still slumbered. As soon as Rebekah and her maid left, Arabella scrambled out of her bed and donned a gown in a muted color, then combed her hair. She’d told Eliza the night before that she intended to sleep late, so her maid had fetched a fresh ewer of water before they retired.
Arabella hurried to ready herself before slipping into the passageway on slippered feet. Much like she did any time she met Edwin, she moved through passageways usually frequented by servants, risking her safety for secrecy. On more than one occasion, she’d had to duck into the shadows to avoid being discovered alone by male servants. Her status as a lady wouldn’t matter if a randy man forced himself upon her. The man would count on her keeping her indiscretion a secret rather than accusing him of a crime.
She eased a door open that led to the undercroft and rushed to the storeroom where she and Edwin always met. It was where the castle stored grain distributed to the villagers just beyond the town walls. Men only entered it once a week to gather wagon loads, so Arabella knew she was safe from discovery. She breathed easier when she spotted Edwin as sunlight filtered in around her.
“My lady, this must be the last time. Your father will kill me, and I do not exaggerate. He’s already threatened us,” Edwin declared.
“I ken, Edwin. I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve risked for me,” Arabella replied.
“Why didn’t you come to me the other night?”
“I didn’t want to admit that I needed more so soon. I thought I could sneak into town and buy some on my own. The first night, Lachlan and his men caught me. By the second night, I was too desperate and too embarrassed to seek you out.”
Edwin nodded but said nothing. Instead, he handed Arabella a sack that he held at the top and the bottom to keep the jugs from rattling. She took it from him before handing him a heavy pouch of coins. She’d planned to pay him extra for his troubles, but from the weight of the sack, she knew he’d brought her more than the usual three jugs.
“Six,” Edwin confirmed.
“Thank you,” Arabella sighed. This would last her at least unti
l her father and Beathan left. If there was any remaining by the time she and Lachlan departed, she would give it to her guards. There was nothing more to say, so Arabella eased the storeroom door open, checking to make sure no one was in sight before she exited the room. She rushed back to her chamber.
A little nip before I join the ladies and the queen will set me to rights, Arabella reasoned with herself. She locked her chamber door, then moved to the far side of her bed where she sat on the floor. She pulled the jugs from the bag and immediately realized she had a problem. Only three jugs fit in her secret hiding place, and there were still three empty containers in there that she forgot to take with her to trade Edwin for the new ones.
With nine bottles to hide, Arabella panicked. She couldn’t hide them in her chest because her maid went into it every day to pull out fresh underclothes. A servant swept under the bed on various days and would surely find them there. Arabella looked around her chamber, but she couldn’t think of anywhere else to put them. She wondered if she could dig another hole in the wall or make the current one deeper or wider. She pushed against the solid wood bedframe, but it didn’t budge. It made her wonder how the person who dug the hole did it. There was just enough room for her to slide under the bed to reach the loose stones. She realized her bed sat much lower than the one in Lachlan’s chamber.
There’s naught for it. I’ll hide them in my chest at the bottom. Each night I’ll pull out what I need for the next day and tell Eliza that I did it to save time in the morning so I can sleep later. But that’ll only work once before she does it herself. I need to find somewhere to at least leave the empty flasks.
Arabella racked her mind as she pulled the stopper from a jug and brought it to her lips. It was the first sip she’d had in days, and the fiery burn that slid over her tongue, down her throat, and settled in her belly was a welcome and familiar feeling. It was as though she returned to a favorite spot that she hadn’t visited in ages and was relieved to see. She continued to think about what she could do with the empty containers. She didn’t dare ask more of Edwin, and she didn’t want to ask her other guards to get involved. She wondered if she could ask Lachlan to dispose of them since he already knew about her habit. But she didn’t want to do anything that might make him questions whether she’d gotten more. As she worked through her dilemma, she didn’t notice how many sips she’d taken until her cheeks tingled and her nose felt numb.
A Beauty at the Highland Court: A Star-Crossed Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 7) Page 15