sirenssong_132-Xe3.htm

by Siren's Song (lit)

  "Nicolette? This sounds serious," Laurent was suddenly quiet. "You have my word."

  Jamie began to pace, "He has asked her to marry him, and requested that she keep the announcement secret until her nineteenth birthday."

  "That is a month away," Laurent sat near the fireplace. "Madeleine committed suicide on the day she turned nineteen." His face became a deep red. "I ran into Philippe while last in Paris and he spoke for the first time in years. He played the part of reconciliation quite sincerely. I should have realized there was something wrong."

  Jamie walked to the mantle, "Is he so deceptive then?"

  "He is different, not the man I knew. I find it difficult to believe that even he would use marriage to Nicolette as revenge against me. How could he use her as a pawn in his crazed game of hatred?"

  "I need to know more about him. Nicolette believes that it is best that she marry Philippe. I have told her numerous times he is far from honorable. If he were, he would have come to you first, but she refuses to recognize his deception."

  "I thought things between you two were going well."

  Jamie put a hand through his hair, "You have seen us argue. She is a difficult woman to convince."

  "Quarrelling with sweet Nicolette?" Laurent laughed. "I have indeed seen you. Perhaps there is not love, but there is definitely attraction."

  Jamie grinned, "Well, at least in some respects the relationship seems to be going well. I thought that I had overcome her objections, but there is one I cannot conquer."

  "Which is?" Laurent slowly swirled his brandy in his glass. "I am positively dying of curiosity," he chuckled.

  Jamie turned, "The promise."

  "Promise?"

  He noted the surprise in Laurent’s voice, "Your father exacted a vow from Nicolette, asking that she never leave the estate, and she intends to keep that pledge."

  "He never mentioned that to me."

  "We arrived several days after the accident, remember? It must have been before your return."

  "Even then," Laurent sounded mystified.

  "What do you mean?" Jamie took the last sip of his brandy, then walked to the sideboard.

  "I mean that my father must have realized John Pierre’s interest in Nicolette, or at least had suspicions. Your marriage must take place immediately. I have to keep her safe."

  "What will you do?"

  "First I will speak to her. She must understand that this chateau is mine to give to a wife, not Philippe’s. Then I will explain why father made such a strange request." Laurent grinned, "Secondly, you must convince her that she loves you. I promise that will be the best defense against Philippe."

  "Those are my intentions." Jamie brought the brandy with him, "There is another problem."

  "And what is that?"

  "She believes herself responsible for the estate since you are absent much of the time."

  "Ah. I am sorry to say that I permitted that fantasy," he shrugged. "I had to have some excuse to keep her here, but do not worry I will tell her the truth."

  "Perhaps she will be more receptive, she is in other ways."

  Laurent choked on his wine, "I dare not ask what ways, knowing you as I do."

  Jamie relaxed, "Come, let’s eat. I’m starving and later we can have a practice session. There is something that I have been meaning to talk to you about, and perhaps now is the time."

  Laurent smiled, "I have some correspondence that must be finished. You go to lunch, and I will join you in my exercise room in an hour."

  Eight

  The late afternoon sun streamed though the windows in long shafts of brilliant light stretching across the golden oak floor. Glistening coats of armor stood in each corner reflecting sparkling points of light and brightly colored flags hung from the side walls across the length of the room, giving a whimsical feeling of the knights of old, as they gently swayed in the breeze from the open doors.

  Jamie stopped a moment as he entered, admiring the effect, then glanced at the weaponry displayed on the walls, and examined each case. Laurent had everything from daggers to longbows. The swords alone were the best collection he had ever seen. He took one, flexing it between his fingers then began to practice with an invisible opponent.

  "So, what is it you wish to talk about? It sounded important earlier." Laurent walked across the room, taking a rapier.

  Jamie turned, again flexing the tip of his sword, "I have quite an interesting thought, actually it is a dream that I have had since returning from America."

  Laurent laughed, "I know what you are about to say. We spoke of it once long ago."

  "Aye, I remember. We had such long talks in front of those glowing fires," he smiled at the recollection. "I have wanted to move the Clan to America for years. I liked it there."

  "See how well I know you, my friend?"

  Jamie grinned, "I have decided this is the right time."

  "Why now?" Laurent looked surprised.

  "I have been planning this for seven years. I thought it would be some time before I could find the money, but now that is no longer a concern, thanks to you."

  Laurent held the tip of the sword like a cane, "What of Nicolette?"

  Jamie smiled, "Don’t you see? She is adamant about not leaving France because of her concern for the people here. I understand how much she cares, because that is how I feel. Think of it! We could all go! The people here that wish to leave, as well as the clan. Perhaps I cannot win her total agreement, but if we share this dream, and include the people we love, we can build a new world, and that is something with which to start a life."

  Concerned, he wondered about Laurent’s opinion, but continued, "I have thought of nothing else. What do you think? Nicolette is not a spoiled aristocrat! She has an adventurous spirit. I believe she would be happy there." He glanced at his friend, "You look completely surprised, but consider this, is it not time for us to make a new beginning?"

  Laurent did not reply.

  "I wish to leave the Highlands. Since Cullenden, the English have made our life sheer hell. The only thing that saved our lands and title was my grandfather’s refusal to let both his sons fight in that battle. They could not legally take our property, but they ruined my father’s life. Damn the English!" he slashed through the air with his sword. "I do not wish them to destroy us. I want to take Nicolette to America where I can give her a better future."

  Laurent was completely still for a moment. "It is certainly an interesting idea. When we were there you often talked of it and I thought the move would be good for you. As for Nicolette, I do not know. She does not wish to leave. Yet, she does not understand what is happening politically and is totally unaware of the events that are re-shaping France. I do not know how much longer we can live in this archaic system. There are pamphlets on every corner in Paris, advocating a new idea of ‘Liberte, Equality, Fraternaty’. We may soon have our own revolution. You can feel the anger everywhere."

  Jamie watched him pace around the room, saying nothing. Finally, Laurent turned to face him.

  "I see your point, this is not just for your clan. Since returning from America, I have realized just how feudal this system is. Even I have thought of leaving. I loved America, the adventure, and the idea of building a new future," he smiled. "Yet, I must have time to consider. We will not mention it to Nicolette just now."

  "If that is what you wish, but I intend to brooch the subject soon."

  Laurent smiled, "Patience, my friend. I go to Paris tomorrow. Lafayette has sent an urgent communiqué." He moved to the center of the room. "I will arrange for our family treasures to be packed and sent to Scotland. Tomorrow, we will send out word to the tenants, and see who wishes to join us in this new adventure, and I will need you to oversee that for me."

  Jamie walked to the window, "Of course." He turned, "So the situation has become critical."

  "Indeed. I’m afraid trouble has found us once more," he laughed. "Come, let us finish sparing. By the way did you know that Lafayette owns two
ships, and I am sure he will loan them to me if I ask," he smiled. "On guard my friend."

  ~ * ~

  "Chere, may I speak with you a moment?"

  Nicolette smiled, "Laurent! Please come in, I have been alone all day."

  "Ah yes, Jamie said something about your ankle. Where is Marie? She should be with you."

  "I am hardly a child that must be attended every minute. My ankle is only a little sore." She smiled and patted the bed. "I will soon have to spend more time alone anyway. Marie is in love with Jamie’s cousin."

  Laurent sat on the bed, "This is good news. She will wish to go with you when you leave."

  Nicolette shook her head, "But I am not leaving! I have told you that many times."

  Laurent’s voice was sharp, "You are betrothed and soon you will leave with your husband. There will be no further discussion on this point."

  She smiled at the frustration in his voice, "Why are you so angry? You know I love you, but you have spent far too much time in Paris to understand. I must stay here, everyone depends on me."

  "Poor Chere, you have thought the burden of the world on your shoulders. Have you not?" Laurent took her hands in his, "Well my dear, I hate to dispel your fantasy, but I have always been in charge. I have been in direct communication with our staff. Our steward is the best in the province, and although I trust him implicitly, he leaves all final decisions to me. Mrs. Renfro is a wonderful housekeeper. She kept me informed of your every move, your nannies, and your tutors. Finally, Henri has been with us as long as I remember. As Major Domo, Father trusted him to manage the staff and so do I. Whenever problems arose, they advised me immediately. I know how important they all are to you, because they helped raise you after our parents died, but they are my friends as well. I have allowed you to believe you made the decisions, and permitted you to make minor ones as you grew older, but I alone run this estate.

  Nicolette could not contain her surprise, "No!"

  "When I left you here you were a child and were not capable of so much responsibility. You may have believed you were accountable, but that is untrue. I have worked very hard to maintain our property and fortune. We have men working for us whose primary responsibility is to ride between here and Paris to keep me informed. I take my promises to father seriously as well."

  "All that work and worry for nothing. Why did no one tell me? Why did you all let me think that I managed everything?"

  "Chere, it never crossed my mind that you believed you alone were responsible. You see, I promised father to keep you safe, and not to take you to Paris."

  "That is strange. I made Father the same promise. Why did he make such an odd request?"

  Laurent smoothed the hair around her face, "He believed you in danger, but we will talk of that later. First, you must understand that he thought it best at the time. Did you give him that vow before I returned from America?"

  "Indeed, it was before you came home."

  "Once I arrived he spoke to me, and made your well being my responsibility. Do you think he would ask me to protect you if he felt you could take care of yourself?" his gaze searched her features. "I will explain his reasons later but when he exacted your promise, he was concerned that I would not return in time to protect you. Later, he asked me to take care of you, and your future. Therefore, you are released from your pledge. Do you understand?" He stroked her cheek, "Father expected that you would marry. He asked me to choose your husband, and I have. Now, you will help me honor my promise to our father."

  Nicolette shrugged, "Why are you so worried? I can take care of myself. I always have and I do not wish to leave." She searched his gaze and noted the implacable purpose written there. He had indeed made his decision, and would accept nothing less than marriage to his friend.

  Nicolette looked at her hands, while her eyes welled with tears. She knew her brother so very well, never had she seen him so adamant, and she realized there would be little she could do to change his mind.

  Laurent cupped her chin and turned her to face him, "Nevertheless, you will marry Jamie, I have had the banns read, Chere. This is exactly what Father would have wished. He expected you to marry, and follow your husband just as Mama did. Nor would he have allowed you to remain here and marry whom you pleased simply to fulfill a childish fantasy. I realize that you have rarely left home and may be afraid, but you must do as I ask," Laurent’s voice rose. "Nicolette, you are betrothed, and there will be no further discussion."

  He looked furious and she decided to change the subject, "Laurent, did you know Jamie’s back is terribly scarred, almost as though he’s been whipped."

  "Oui."

  "Zut! Is that all you have to say?" she sighed. "If you know what happened you must tell me. You insist that I am his betrothed, so tell me more about the man. Please you must explain, because he will not."

  "First, little sister, be careful of your language! And secondly, how do you know of his back?"

  Nicolette felt her cheeks grow warm, "I saw it today. When I was thrown I became quite dizzy. He removed his shirt, dipped it in water, then bathed my face." Embarrassed, she noted the interest in his eyes, "We had nothing else to use."

  Laurent smiled, "Of course, Chere. What else could he do?"

  Nicolette giggled, "Please Laurent, tell me."

  "Very well," he closed his eyes. "I remember it clearly. I often think that it was our destiny to meet, and become friends. It was provident, an extraordinary miracle, as if God sent me to save his life. I believe that if I had arrived even a few minutes later, it would have been too late." He hesitated, "The English beat Jamie, whipped him like an animal."

  "I am surprised! Your have never had anything but wonderful stories of America."

  "Yes, but this incident was quite different. My men and I found Jamie in a barn, behind an Inn. He was a bloody mess. Unconscious and hanging like a piece of raw meat. His hands had been tied with ropes to a rafter above, while his legs were spread wide and his feet tied to stakes in the dirt floor. He had been scourged until his back was little more than shredded flesh. The tatters of his blue Continental Army jacket were still on the floor and we realized he was not British. I assumed he was a man of some importance."

  Laurent stopped speaking suddenly. His gaze shifted toward the door. She realized they were no longer alone. She glanced at her hands, twisting the blanket.

  Laurent turned to look at his friend, "She wished to know of your back. I saw no harm."

  Jamie gazed at Nicolette then cleared his voice, "Of course, she saw my back today and would be curious." He walked to the window, "Please, finish the story."

  Laurent nodded, "We thought Jamie important."

  He laughed, "You must have thought me a General, perhaps one of Washington’s confidants because from that moment you have treated me like royalty."

  Now it was Laurent’s turn to laugh, "Well, not exactly a General, but perhaps a spy." He grew reflective and his voice quiet, "We had just returned from the battle of Monmouth and I found Jamie nearly dead. One of my men died from wounds he received in the skirmish, so we buried him behind the Inn. Later, I convinced the English that Jamie occupied that grave, and to this day I don’t know why I thought that so important. They were very drunk, and when they awoke they believed our story without question."

  Jamie’s voice seemed extremely quiet and thoughtful, "Your brother saved my life at a time when I welcomed the thought of death. He rescued me and gave me years of peace because the English devil responsible thought I was dead." His hand crossed slowly across his chest to rest on his shoulder, then absentmindedly rubbed the thick scar, "Nicolette, trust me, you must always fight the enemy with any means possible, no matter your fear, to the death if need be." He whispered, "It’s not over. One day I will finish it!"

  Laurent’s voice was deadly quiet, "I have no doubt, but first we take care of Nicolette."

  Jamie’s frown changed slowly into a smile, "And pray tell, why would I think of death when there is so much life
and beauty in this room?" He turned and gazed into Nicolette’s eyes.

  She felt her cheeks grow warm again, "Who is the English devil you speak of?" Her curiosity was not appeased so easily.

  "Cedric Forester, bastard son of an English lord, a Major in the Army and a coward, but that is a story for another time."

  "Of course, I understand now, the meadow."

  Jamie’s head shot up, "How did you..."

  He did not finish his question. Just then servants began to enter Nicolette’s room with dinner. Others followed with a small table that was placed near the bed.

  "I hope you two do not mind, but sitting alone in a huge dining room was not my idea of amusement so I decided on this as a means of diversion. As you French would say, viola! Dinner is served," Jamie’s hands moved upward in a ridiculous flourish.

  Nicolette laughed at the uncharacteristic gesture. Jamie certainly never stood on ceremony, any ceremony, and she liked his nonchalant ways. The delicious aroma caused her mouth to water and she looked at the delectable dishes on the table suddenly feeling as though she were starving.

  "This is wonderful! I was hungry. Thank you for thinking of this," she smiled when she noted the delight in Jamie’s eyes.

  Laurent smiled, "What I always liked best about you was your ability to celebrate!"

  "Aye, well we must take life as we find it, my friend, then do your best to improve upon what you have been given." Once the servants left the room Jamie wrapped a napkin over his arm, and bowed at the waist, "Mademoiselle, Monsieur, if you please, dinner is served."

  He walked toward the bed, "Laurent, to the table! I hope you do not expect me to carry you."

  Laurent laughed, "It might be interesting."

  "If you will seat yourself I may have some news for you."

  Laurent sat at the table. "And what is that, my friend."

  "You will be happy to know that Nicolette has finally agreed to the betrothal."

  Jamie glanced her way, daring her to refute his claim. He casually ducked as she threw a pillow in his direction.