Frances shrugged at this observation and then said: “I have learned that love can make a woman do all sorts of foolish things.”
Colin couldn’t refute that. Love made men do foolish things, too.
They had an hour’s warning the following day before Gilbert Balfour’s retinue arrived, and therefore there was time for the much-practiced Balfour women to arrange one more feast. It would have to be the last, though, for they were running out of wine and there were no more birds to give their lives for the glory of the groaning board.
The true heir to the Balfours arrived at the castle looking pale but otherwise sound, and was very relieved to discover that he was both expected and welcomed by the occupants, even though his politics differed drastically from his brother’s. Colin was certain his own presence was a bit of shock to the true laird, but knew that having an Englishman about was only a small part of what bemused the wounded soldier. Gilbert was pleased at the unexpected presence of the bishop’s men at the keep, and predisposed to like Colin for bringing them. His qualified approval became almost total approbation when he discovered it was Colin who had arranged, at his own expense, to have the Balfour men paid their wages and returned to Noltland, and that later Colin and Frances had been married by Angus MacBride. Apparently the two Protestant men were much in each other’s confidences, and Colin and Frances’s union’s blessing by this man could only be seen as a sign of grace.
Gilbert was stunned but again pleased when his young cousin, rather than being upset at discovering Gilbert was actually alive, and therefore the heir to Noltland and the title, instead announced plainly that he was relieved to find this the case because he wanted to go to England with Colin and Frances, and eventually attend university.
Frances, too, was a bit of a surprise to the hardened soldier, who had no daughters of his own. Gilbert had hardly known what to answer when his pretty niece looked up at him and asked: “Mon oncle, do you perhaps like to play gowff? Non? But do not despair. Colin shall teach you. We are all quite fond of the game here.”
Neither Colin nor Gilbert rushed to act on this suggestion.
In spite of Gilbert’s assurance that he would love to have his niece and her husband remain for the winter, plans for the bridal couple’s departure were made forthwith. Winters in the North tended to be an assault on the senses, molesting them constantly until the season turned again to spring. They waited only for MacJannet’s leg to heal. They would travel overland rather than by boat—and they would not be halting at Dunnvegan to visit the MacLeod.
The party had also grown a bit because, in addition to George and Harry, Tearlach had decided to journey south with them. Frances was at first inclined to object to his presence, but the piper had seemingly been reformed. Apparently after consuming an indecent amount of whisky, the late laird’s ghost had reappeared to him and announced that he was lifting the curse of impotency and that Tearlach should go to England to look after the laird’s grandchildren-to-be. Tearlach’s behavior became exemplary after this.
Colin suspected the dream had conveniently appeared because Gilbert had his own piper—and a very skilled one at that—but after the plain appearance of the spectral hound, Colin didn’t feel qualified to absolutely rule out the possibility that the late laird’s ghost had given Tearlach specific instructions about their children-to-be. It seemed safer to take the piper along than risk a haunting by an irate father-in-law. Ghosts might not travel over open water, but they had no problem journeying over land.
Colin debated for a time, but finally decided to write a letter to his cousin MacLeod before leaving the North, explaining the situation at Noltland. He could only hope that the half loaf of not having the keep in the hands of the MacDonnells or Gunns was enough to stay his cousin from foolhardy actions, but knowing Alasdair, Colin did not entirely discount the possibility of some stubborn gesture against Gilbert Balfour.
His cousin’s stubbornness aside, life was good and Colin felt beforehand with the world. The only thing that vaguely troubled Colin was his bride. Or, more specifically, her failure to repeat her words of love to him in the days since their deadly adventure.
Colin was aware that he had coaxed the words of devotion from her at a moment of great stress and that it was possible she had not truly meant them. On the other hand, she gave a very convincing performance as a loving wife…
He was not at all certain how to discover what her feelings actually were. There had been little private time for them since Gilbert had arrived, because a great deal needed to be accomplished before they could leave Noltland, and Frances came to bed at night already half asleep. That didn’t seem the moment to inaugurate a serious discussion.
Finally there came an afternoon when the weather was pleasant and no urgent tasks demanded their attention, and Colin was able to persuade Frances to take a long ramble out on the shore to test a few more of the MacLeod’s clubs.
At first Frances was hesitant to take up a club again after the killing, but as always her courage came to the fore. After looking Colin in the eye and nodding her head, she took up the long weighted stick, and was soon enjoying brutalizing her leather ball and chatting happily about the upcoming luxury of having a shorn meadow in which to play gowff.
Colin watched Frances play. The autumnal sun spun a halo about Frances and the gentle breeze fluttered her cloak behind her like angel’s wings. In spite of nature’s attempts to keep Colin’s thoughts elevated, his vision failed to see his wife as an ethereal being. She was of the earth, a being of passions and thoughts, who hungered for earthly things. And so was he.
“You are looking forward with pleasure to seeing Pemberton Fells?” he asked, tucking her hand into his arm as they chased down her ball, so she would not stumble over the flotsam the storm had washed up on the beach.
“Oui. It sounds most wonderfully appointed. And I have not forgotten your promise,” she added, smiling mischievously.
“Which promise is that?” Colin asked, staring down at the upcurved lips and suddenly having trouble following the conversation.
“That I am to be made into a creature of pleasure—a voluptuary who wears perfume and silk.”
“Ah! That promise,” he answered lightly. “We shall see to it at once.”
“Before the gowffing green?”
“They shall both be seen to immediately,” he promised, then added casually: “I was wondering if perhaps you were thinking of some other promises.”
“Which ones?”
“Perhaps the ones about love and honor?”
“And obedience?”
“That one, too,” he answered promptly. “Did you mean those promises, Frances?”
Frances looked down at her ruffling hem and considered the question seriously. “I have promised twice to obey—and I shall try.”
“Aye.”
She continued to look down, but Colin saw the beginnings of a smile. “And I have always honored you. There can be no doubt of this.”
“In your own fashion,” he agreed politely. “And?”
“And I wish to know if you meant your vows?” Frances looked up, her eyes twinkling, and Colin knew he was being teased.
“I offered my protection and my purse—and I’ve given you both.”
“Oui.”
“And I’ve promised you a meadow to play gowff on and perfume from Santa Maria Novella.”
“And silk dresses,” she reminded him.
“And silk dresses,” he agreed.
“Then what else could there be?” she asked, eyes shining.
“Love perhaps?”
“Oh, love. Well, if you must—” Frances squeaked as Colin put his hands about her waist and lifted her into the air. Her golf club dangled from her hand as he brought them nose to nose.
“Aye—love. What of that, my wife?”
“If you must have it so plainly expressed—”
“I find that I must.”
“Then have the words. I love you.” Frances leaned
forward and set her lips to Colin’s.
They kissed until his arms tired and only then did he return her to the ground.
“And have you nothing to say to me in return?” she asked, pouting.
Colin kept his face serious. “Let me think. You promised to love, honor, and obey.” Colin turned and began to stroll up the beach. “And I promised you perfume and silk—and a gowffing green. No, I don’t believe there could be anything—”
Frances reached out with her club and snagged Colin’s ankle, tumbling him into the sand. Before he could do more than roll over, his wife pounced upon him.
“You must think over matters more carefully,” she said, flattening herself on his body and wiggling as she felt him stirring to life beneath her. “There is something else, I believe. You must cast about in your mind until you recall it.”
“There is?” he asked, clearing his throat. “Give me a moment. This sand is confoundedly wet and cold, but I believe that I am beginning to recall…”
Frances wiggled again. “Oui?”
“Let’s see…Could it be love?”
“Could it be?” she asked, her expression sobering slightly. “I know you said it was, but…”
“Oh it most definitely could be,” he answered, taking her in his arms and rolling her away from the encroaching tide. He looked down at her, happiness filling his soul. “Aye, I am quite sure ‘tis love.”
“You swear it?”
“I swear it.”
And then he sealed his vow with a kiss.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
As with my first novel, Iona, I have taken great liberties with history in this story, particularly with the Balfours, who have had four hundred years of family lore compressed and embellished to fit into the less than three hundred pages of The Night Side. Chief among the inaccuracies, Gilbert Balfour (who makes a late appearance in the story) did not actually inherit Noltland until 1546, but lucky Gilbert: in this book he gets the castle two years earlier.
Other sundry characters are composites of historic figures that have been compressed into single beings. The large historic personages such as Henry VIII and Mary of Guise, regent and mother of Mary Queen of Scots, are portrayed as accurately as possible, but the hero, heroine, and supporting cast of Noltland Castle are all made up out of my head and therefore won’t be found in any history books. Especially Tearlach, who is patterned after a relation of mine—but which relative I shall not say, since I must face my family at Thanksgiving. The sins of omission in this book are endless. I did not take the space to explain in detail all the combatants in the religious war because that would be tedious. As it is, there were Catholics, English Protestants, and Scottish Reformers all running amok as they struggled for political power, and that seemed complicated enough for a romance. The true nastiness of the warfare of this era has also been glossed over, because I found no way to deal realistically with the zealous John Knox and the murder of Cardinal Beaton and keep things light and romantic. Please forgive the very abridged history of an important time in Scotland. Unfortunately, there are no great lessons, historic or religious, to be learned from this tale, except that gowff could be a dangerous game when played with the gout-ridden Henry VIII. For more information about the early game of golf as played in Scotland, see A Swing Through Time: Golf in Scotland 1457-1744 by Olive M. Geddes.
Also, lovers of Shakespeare will think they see a misquote from As You Like It in chapter 19 (men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them—but not for love). But as Shakespeare had yet to pen this play at the time of the story, I ask you to believe that the worm my characters speak of is the one in Hell that eats and never dies. This is more applicable, as at that moment they are discussing murder and not romance.
Please drop me a line and let me know how you enjoyed the story. E-mail can be directed to melanie [email protected] or my Web site at http://www.mel aniejackson.com.
Welcome to my imaginary Scotland. Happy reading and slan leat (health upon you).
Melanie Jackson
CRITICS RAVE ABOUT MELANIE JACKSON!
DIVINE FANTASY
[Jackson] “has a wonderful way with descriptive language. There are some great connections with previous books and a surprise at the end.”—RT Book Reviews
A CURIOUS AFFAIR
“For a very different type of murder mystery and some very quirky characters and a twist at the end you won’t see coming…in this tale, curiosity does not kill the cat!”
—Romance Reviews Today
DIVINE NIGHT
“Not to be read quickly, Jackson’s latest is closely connected to the two previous Divine stories…This is an excellent addition to this series.”—RT Book Reviews
WRIT ON WATER
“An intriguing mix of mystery and romance, with shadings of the paranormal, this is a story that pulls you in.”
—RT Book Reviews
DIVINE MADNESS
“This tale isn’t your everyday, lighthearted romance…Melanie Jackson takes an interesting approach to this tale, using historical figures with mysterious lives.”
—Romance Reviews Today
DIVINE FIRE
“Jackson pens a sumptuous modern gothic…Fans of solid love stories like those of Laurell K. Hamilton will enjoy Jackson’s tale, which readers will devour in one sitting, then wait hungrily for the next installment.”
—Booklist
THE SAINT
“This visit to the ‘wild side’ is wonderfully imaginative and action-packed…[A] fascinating tale.”
—RT Book Reviews
MORE PRAISE FOR MELANIE JACKSON!
THE MASTER
“Readers…will not be disappointed. Her ability to create a complicated world is astounding with this installment, which includes heartwarming moments, suspense and mystery sprinkled with humor. An excellent read.”
—RT Book Reviews
STILL LIFE
“The latest walk on the ‘Wildside’ is a wonderful romantic fantasy that adds new elements that brilliantly fit and enhance the existing Jackson mythos…Action-packed.”
—Midwest Book Review
THE COURIER
“The author’s imagination and untouchable world-building continue to shine…[An] outstanding and involved novel.”
—RT Book Reviews
OUTSIDERS
“Melanie Jackson is a talent to watch. She deftly combines romance with fantasy and paranormal elements to create a spellbinding adventure.”
—WritersWrite.com
TRAVELER
“Jackson often pushes the boundaries of paranormal romance, and this…is no exception.”
—Booklist
THE SELKIE
“Part fantasy, part dream and wholly bewitching, The Selkie…[blends] whimsy and folklore into a sensual tale of love and magic.”
—RT Book Reviews
Other books by Melanie Jackson:
DIVINE FANTASY
A CURIOUS AFFAIR
DIVINE NIGHT
WRIT ON WATER
DIVINE MADNESS
THE SAINT
THE MASTER
DIVINE FIRE
STILL LIFE
THE COURIER
OUTSIDERS
TRAVELER
THE SELKIE
DOMINION
BELLE
AMARANTHA
NIGHT VISITOR
MANON
IONA
Copyright
LOVE SPELL®
August 2009
Published by
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Copyright © 2009 by Melanie Jackson
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