"We can use Hildegarde's chamber," she said. "No spy or evil spirit could find entry there."
Matthew lowered his voice. "I have brought the ring."
Her eyes darkened in understanding. "Oh, Matthew, that means—"
The rest of her enigmatic reaction was lost to Douglas as she drew Matthew down the passageway, then up the winding stairs to Hildegarde's room. Douglas shadowed them like an intruder in his own castle, unsuccessfully trying to eavesdrop on their cryptic whisperings. He envied them their closeness, the bonds they shared.
"…smuggled to me in Sweden."
"…Erich escaped and is ready."
They reached the top of the stairs, glancing back at Douglas as if they had forgotten his presence.
"Make sure we aren't disturbed, brother," Matthew had the gall to shout over his shoulder.
"Make sure our friends don't hurt themselves in the hall," Rowena added as she bolted the door.
Douglas stared at that closed door, the demons of his piratical past rising in revolt. He swallowed over the lump in his throat. He felt alone, excluded, inadequate… afraid. He was the interloper.
He would not make a fool of himself.
He would not sprout horns of jealousy and use them to break his way inside.
He would be nonchalant and gallant about the fact that his brother had his future bride in her bedchamber with the door bolted. About the fact that she had belonged to Matthew to begin with.
He began pounding his fists at the door like a madman. He kicked the lock. "I demand to know what you are both doing in there. I will not be made to stand in the hallway like a lackey."
" 'Tis all right, Douglas." Rowena's sweet voice floated out. "Your brother is just showing me his jewels."
"He's showing you—"
"Actually, they're her jewels." Matthew opened the door a crack, his handsome face annoyed. "For heaven's sake, Douglas, this is a meeting of political urgency. We cannot conduct it in secrecy with you yelling through the keyhole. These are the crown jewels of Hartzburg, smuggled out of the country by Rowena's loyalist faction to finance our rebellion."
"I care nothing for jewels. I only wish to know you will keep your clothes on." Douglas shouldered his way into the room, staring in anguish at Rowena on the bed in a sea of diamonds and sapphires.
"Our clothes on?" Matthew said in shock.
"You ought to apologize for that remark," Rowena said. "You have insulted your brother."
Matthew smiled warmly. "I understand. 'Tis his fierce seafaring temperament. I forgive you, Douglas."
"I don't want to be forgiven," Douglas retorted. "I want to kill you. I've wanted to kill you ever since you took Mama's body away from the place she belonged."
Matthew shook his head in genuine bewilderment. "After everything I've done to make amends between us? Why have you allowed your hatred to grow?"
Rowena moved between them to examine a necklace in the candlelight, murmuring, "I wonder why brothers must always quarrel. Can you not save your battle instincts for helping my father?"
Douglas was practically breathing fire. He stood over Matthew with a heaving chest and smoldering eyes. "You speak of amends. I still do not know where she is buried. You make me feel as if I am unworthy of standing at her grave."
Rowena looked up slowly. She had never heard such pain or depth of emotion in her Dragon's voice.
Matthew edged back a step. "You have made yourself look like a demon, Douglas. Pirating is hardly a prelude to sainthood, and I shall take you to her grave whenever you like. Rowena, come and look at the bruise under his left eye. Is it festering, do you think? He has worked himself up into a feverish state."
"I hope not," she said, hurrying up to Douglas, bracelets dangling from wrist to elbow. "Yet I would not be surprised if he suffered a relapse. He's a terrible patient. Let me look at your eye, my lord."
Douglas pulled away from her hand. " 'Tis a nervous twitch. It happens right before I want to kill someone."
Matthew frowned. "Don't talk to her that way, brother. She's only trying to help."
"I was talking to you, moron," Douglas said. "Rowena, take off that lurid jewelry. You look like a gypsy fortuneteller."
"You were talking to me that time," Rowena said accusingly.
"And he insulted the crown jewels of Hartzburg by saying you looked like a gypsy," Matthew pointed out.
Rowena put on another necklace in defiance. "I love gypsies. I may even have gypsy blood in my background. Does that bother you, Douglas, to learn that my blood might not be pure?"
"My blood isn't pure either," Douglas said in a nasty voice.
" 'Tisn't?" Matthew said in surprise. Then, "Ah, you are referring to your father. Well, do not fret on that point. Humble origins are nothing to be ashamed of."
Douglas walked Matthew back into the wardrobe. "I wasn't referring to my father, you trouble-making nitwit. I meant that being related to you tainted my bloodlines."
Rowena came to rescue Matthew just as he fell back into the wardrobe. "Perhaps you don't wish to marry me either, Douglas, now that you know I might have gypsy blood in my veins."
"I never said that," Douglas shouted.
Matthew hauled himself out of a pile of Hildegarde's underwear, looking dazed at this turn of events.
"Did he hurt you with his dragon's fury?" Rowena asked.
Matthew plucked a whalebone corset off his chest. "I don't think so. Good heavens, Rowena, this is the largest corset I've ever seen in my life. You never took this size before. Hasn't Douglas been giving you any exercise?"
"No, he hasn't," Rowena said. "I've been imprisoned in this castle under guard, wild gypsy with impure blood that I am. That, however, is Hildegarde's corset, not mine. This is her room."
Douglas pushed Matthew back into the wardrobe. "How do you know what size corset Rowena takes?"
"I allowed you to bully me the first time because I did not want to make you look stupid in front of Rowena." Matthew struggled upward, coming at Douglas with his fists raised. "But enough is enough. I'm sorry I arranged this whole affair. Of all the woeful tales I've heard about you—which I defended, by the way—I never dreamed you enjoyed mistreating women."
"Arranged what whole affair?" Rowena wondered aloud.
Douglas took a punch and missed. Matthew jumped in the air with a menacing shout, which might have been a more impressive maneuver if he hadn't gotten one of Hildegarde's horsehair petticoats wrapped around his ankles.
Rowena heaved a sigh. "For heaven's sake, cease this senseless fighting. He is in no condition for fisticuffs."
Matthew grunted as Douglas hit him in the solar plexus. "Don't worry," he said between groans. "I won't hurt him… just teach him… a… less—ooof."
Rowena placed herself between the two men, holding them apart at arm's length. "I meant that I did not want Douglas to hurt you, not with your leg just mended. He is twice your size."
"My leg?" Matthew stumbled back a step, breathless, staring down sheepishly at his satin breeches. "Oh, that leg. Well, it wasn't really broken, you see. 'Twas badly bruised. I told a tiny fib so that you two would have time together."
"A tiny fib?" Douglas said in a deadly voice.
Matthew looked anxiously from Douglas to Rowena. 'It worked, didn't it? You were embracing in the passageway when I arrived? Am I wrong in assuming that you have made a love match?"
"Matthew." Rowena had turned ghostly white. "What are you saying?"
Douglas straightened his shirt. "Never mind what the moron is saying. I want to know how he comes by the details of your undergarments. "
"Do not tell him, Matthew," Rowena said.
Matthew nodded. "Never let it be said that I betrayed a princess's confidence. The secret of your corset will never leave my lips."
Douglas grabbed one of two ancient spears mounted above the bed. "I'm going to roast you over a spit, you scurvy dog."
Rowena gasped in surprise. "You sound just like a real pirate. Say that
again, Douglas."
Matthew stared uneasily at the spear. "He is a real pirate. Perhaps we ought to tell him after all."
"Don't you dare," Rowena said. "We shall never hear the end of it."
"I cannot tell you, Douglas," Matthew said with a sigh.
Douglas gave him a chilling smile. Then he proceeded to slice the frog fastenings of Matthew's cloak with the tip of the spear. "Since we are half-brothers, I will give you the option of being roasted feet first or skewered through the gut."
Matthew blanched. "I'll tell you—"
"No, Matthew." Rowena pressed her index finger warningly to her lips. "If you tell him, I shall never be able to confide in you again."
Douglas jabbed the spear into Matthew's midsection. "Yes, but if I don't tell him, Rowena, he's going to skewer me."
"You wouldn't do that, would you?" Rowena asked Douglas.
He smiled at her. It was a menacing smile. "Yes, I would. Oh dear, brother, you've lost a button." And a row of pearls popped off Matthew's chest into the air.
"I'm telling him," Matthew said quickly. "Douglas, I borrowed Rowena's corset to wear to a masquerade ball when I visited Hartzburg. 'Twas an innocent act."
Douglas lowered the spear. "What?"
"I wore her corset to the Hartzburg ball."
" 'Tis true," Rowena said reluctantly. "But he broke the laces, and Hildegarde had to fasten it together with leather thread. Fortunately, these repairs did not show beneath my dress."
Douglas glanced from Rowena to his brother, a rude snigger of disbelief escaping him. "My brother dresses as a woman."
"I told you not to tell him," Rowena said in irritation. "Now he shall think I have a mannish figure."
"No one would ever think that," Douglas and Matthew said in unison.
Douglas shook his head, looking Matthew over. "I never took you for a lily, lacing yourself in corsets and such. I tortured myself comparing myself to your saintliness." A smirk settled on his face. "A saint in a corset."
Matthew's face reddened. "I don't dress in corsets! 'Twas for a masquerade. I was meant to be an empress."
"Only a man confident of his masculinity would dare dress as a woman." Rowena frowned at Matthew. "Don't say I didn't warn you. He'll never let either of us forget this."
"Well, obviously I am the biggest fool in the world," Matthew said indignantly.
Douglas sat down on the edge of the bed. He dropped the spear beside him. The excitement had tired him. He yawned. "You are a fool because you dress in ladies' garments?"
"No," Matthew retorted. "Because of the sacrifice I made for you and Rowena."
"Why do you keep prattling on about sacrifices and arrangements?" Rowena said in annoyance. "You do not make sense, Matthew."
Douglas leaned back on the bed, grinning insultingly. "Perhaps his corset is so tight it's stopped the circulation of blood to his brain."
"I have heard of such things happening," Rowena conceded with a chuckle. "Hildegarde often cannot breathe for lacing herself up like a sausage."
'"Vanity of vanities, all is vanity,'" Douglas quoted, folding his arms under his head.
"Was that Shakespeare again?" Rowena asked.
"I believe 'tis the Bible," Douglas said.
Rowena grinned at Matthew. "Would you like to borrow my petticoats tonight?"
"You are the most ungrateful pair I have ever met," Matthew said.
Douglas's grin faded. "Why did you write me that your leg was broken?"
"I was playing Cupid," Matthew said grumpily. "In my naivete I envisioned you as a pair of potential lovers. I hoped that Rowena would inspire you to live up to the responsibilities of your newly acquired nobility."
"She certainly does inspire me," Douglas said. Then, "Rowena, what are you looking for?"
"The spear for you to skewer your brother," she answered. "I trusted him, and he deceived me. I will not be deceived again."
Douglas stood up abruptly. "He manipulated us. That is another reason why I should murder him."
Matthew backed toward the door. "I don't understand. I thought you two had fallen in love—"
"I've had a little rest." Douglas took the spear from Rowena, his face ominous. "Now I'm ready to skewer you in earnest."
"Not unless you catch me," Matthew shouted. He thumbed his nose. Then he made a mad dash through the door just as Douglas lunged at him.
* * * * *
Rowena shook her head, listening to them crash down the castle stairwell like a couple of wild boars. Curses rose into the air. Footfalls came running to investigate the commotion.
"Boys," she said.
Hildegarde poked her head into the room. "They are killing each other, Highness."
"I know." Rowena sighed.
"Shall I send for the physician?"
" 'Twould not hurt," Rowena said.
"Has Sir Matthew asked to give you away at the wedding?" Hildegarde asked.
"The way Douglas is going at him, it does not seem either of them will live that long. Why is it that the men in my life are so prone to violence?"
"I couldn't answer that, Highness." Frowning, Hildegarde moved into the room to gaze at the fortune in jewels arrayed on the bed. "Good God. The crown jewels of Hartzburg—but this means—"
"My father is in grave trouble," Rowena said in a heavy voice. "He cannot hold out without reinforcements. Jerome was telling the truth. You may pack our belongings, Hildegarde. It looks as if I will be a warrior wife right after the wedding."
29
Douglas couldn't sleep. For one thing he could not twitch a muscle without groaning in misery. For another, he would be married tomorrow, and if life got any sweeter than this, he simply could not imagine how.
His lady lay waiting for their wedding day within the tower. He grinned, anticipating the long nights ahead of loving his young wife, the chill winter mornings when he would snuggle into her body. When their bairns would bound into their bedchamber, disturbing them with shrieks of laughter and selfish demands. They would raise a family and grow old together, the years passing to make a potpourri of precious memories.
But did he deserve it? Did the little bit of good he'd done in the glen make up for years of greed and hurting people? Was he worthy of happiness? Guilt nagged at him for a life wasted, for the injustices he could not forget. 'Twould take a long time before he could live with the man he had been.
Or perhaps he would die having never made peace with himself. Something yet was lacking in his life. The love of a woman was a priceless blessing. Yet all was not well deep within his spirit. That last echo of darkness must be exorcised.
God help me, came the unvoiced cry from his heart, the human cry of countless hurting souls, the cry that Heaven waited so long to hear.
And to answer.
He got dressed and suddenly found himself in the castle chapel. Someone had left candles burning on the stone altar. Rowena most likely. His princess believed in the power of prayer.
"She deserves happiness," he said aloud.
"So do you."
He turned in astonishment and saw Dainty kneeling behind him.
"I never knew you were a praying man," Douglas said in accusation.
Dainty's deep laughter resounded against the stone walls. "How do you think we survived so many wild years together, Douglas?"
"I thought we had the Devil's own luck."
Dainty just smiled and stared at the stone crucifix on the altar. "That is where we find our forgiveness and our purpose, Douglas."
He swallowed. "Not for men like me."
"Especially for men like you."
Aidan came in a few seconds later. He halted in his tracks when he saw he wasn't alone.
"Did you come to pray for me too?" Douglas demanded.
"Hell, no," Aidan said. "I was looking for the solar."
Gemma felt a strange quickening in her heart. She walked down the hall and saw a gentle light radiating from the chapel.
'Twas a light more powerful
than the dawn, than the two candles that burned low on the altar. 'Twas a light that filled her with unspeakable joy and peace. The beauty of it brought tears to her eyes.
She gasped in wonder as she saw her brother kneeling between the stone slab pews. Her tears fell freely as she joined him. He put his arm around her waist, hugging her in a silence that neither of them could defile with words.
Afterward she said, "We were born poor, Douglas. Why do you suppose we're living in a castle now, and you're marrying someone as wonderful as Rowena?"
His voice was wry. "Certainly not because we've led an exemplary life."
"You've been a son of a swine," she said earnestly as they rose from the rough floor. "Why would God give you grace?"
"I don't have an answer."
They walked out into the hall. The castle was stirring, men singing, maids bustling to and fro to prepare for the great day ahead.
"But why should God give you all this when so many people suffer?" Gemma persisted. "Why doesn't he give it to them?"
He turned to her at the top of the stairs. "Perhaps that part is up to us."
On the morning of her wedding, Rowena covered her face, throat, and shoulders in a cold cream concocted of oatmeal, lard, whipped eggs and ground almonds. It was a popular receipt at court for the beautification of a noblewoman's skin. Mrs. MacVittie had passed it on to Rowerm, claiming the notorious Countess of Castlemaine swore by it.
The princess wanted to look perfect for Douglas.
Douglas intended to give his princess a necklace of water pearls. He had purchased it many years ago on a whim on a Jamaican wharf for a woman he had not yet met.
He knocked now at that woman's door, the woman of his dreams. A monster answered him. He stifled a shout, backing into Aidan in the hall. The monster was probably a female—it had nice breasts and wore a nightgown.
" 'Tis bad luck to see the bride on her wedding day!" Hildegarde bellowed from the depths of the room.
The door slammed on the monster.
"Bride?" he said numbly. "That was my princess?"
Douglas and his princess bride were married a few hours later in the castle chapel, on a quiet afternoon in early December. Frederic and Jerome, as emergency members of the council, had granted permission for the ceremony. Pirates and village folk crowded the courtyard to admire the laird's wife in her lutestring-trimmed silver gown and tiara.
Delight Page 21