Highland Guard

by Hannah Howell

  That was true, she thought as Joan fixed her hair. She had nothing. Harcourt gained nothing by marrying her, neither land nor coin. Annys doubted Nigel would argue if she chose a few cherished things to take with her, but she would be going to Harcourt with only her clothing, towing a child who possessed only a lamb, and bringing a cat. She smiled.

  “Is that smile because your mind wandered off to something funny or because ye have ceased fretting and will now go down and wed the mon ye want?” asked Joan.

  “A little of both,” Annys replied. “But, ye are right. There is no contract forcing Harcourt to the altar. There is no gain in this for him. Only me and Benet.” She grinned. “And Roberta and Roban.”

  Joan laughed. “Och, aye. I wager he hasnae thought much on that yet.” She suddenly grew serious and stood up straight. “And me and my two lads.”

  “Joan?” Annys was speechless for a moment, only able to croak out her friend’s name.

  “That is, if ye will have me.”

  “Of course, I will, but this is your home.”

  “Nay, this was my husband’s home. He and all his kin are gone now. Aye, I love it here but I suspicion I can love it at Gormfeurach. My lads will miss Dunnie but they have stables at Gormfeurach.”

  “Ye have already talked to some of Harcourt’s men, havenae ye.”

  “Aye, because as badly as I wish ye to stay with me, I need to be what I was here or near to. I cannae step down, if ye ken my meaning. Weel, Sir Gybbon said I would be as they dinnae yet have any woman with my skills. Seems it was a rough place with a bad laird ere Sir Harcourt stepped in. Always work in the stables, too. Dunnie will miss the lads but he says there are a lot of others who will run to take their places as his helpers. So, I will go with ye.”

  “Listening to all ye just said, I begin to think I do have a dower. ’Tis you.” Annys laughed and hugged her friend. “Then, welcome. I hope ye dinnae regret your decision.” She frowned. “That may leave Nigel lacking a woman to run his keep, however.”

  “Nay, there are several women capable of stepping into my place. I gave him their names and he will choose the one who fits him best. I will wager a part of him welcomes this clearing out of some of the old, of David’s time as laird.”

  “Ye have been busy. And, aye, mayhap he will find he appreciates making this wholly his keep now.”

  “There. Ye look bonnie enough.” Joan hooked her arm through Annys’s. “Let us go and get ye wed to that fine mon.”

  Harcourt pinned on his finest silver brooch, liking the way it shone against his plaid. It had been a gift from his whole family to celebrate his knighthood. He was nervous and he did not know why. This was what he wanted, what he had wanted for a very long time. Nothing he had done in the years since riding away from Annys had pushed her from his mind and, he now admitted, from his heart. He was happy, eager even, and yet that nervousness lurked beneath all those other feelings.

  “Now why are ye frowning?” asked Gybbon, handing Harcourt a tankard of cider.

  “Just realized I am, weel, nervous. Cannae understand why. This is what I want.”

  “Ye are about to tie yourself to one lass for the rest of your days. Ye would be an idiot if ye were nay at least a wee bit nervous. And, considering the family we come from, the bond ye are about to make will indeed be tight for all the rest of your days. ’Tis nay a small step for any mon to take, even one who badly wants to take it.”

  Harcourt nodded and started for the door. Gybbon was right. It was a natural, understandable feeling concerning the step he was about to take. Unlike anything else he had done in his life, this was forever. This woman would be at his side until the day he breathed his last.

  He stepped into the great hall, took one look at Annys, her blood-red hair hanging free, falling in thick waves to her slender hips and looking glorious against her dark blue gown, and immediately lost any hint of nervousness. This was the woman he wanted. He might not have her love yet, although he suspected he did, but he had her passion. Without hesitation he walked up to her, took her by the hand, and faced the priest.

  Annys sipped her wine and looked yet again at the marriage band on the finger of her left hand. She wondered where Harcourt had gotten it. Nigel now had the one David had given her, a family heirloom, and would save it for the day he found a wife. She swallowed a sigh, not wishing Harcourt to hear it and question her about it.

  Married again. This time she could look forward to a passionate marriage bed. That was good. What she still did not know was whether or not she had love to go with it. It is something to work for, she told herself firmly. Many married couples found it later in their marriage.

  Harcourt took her by the hand and gently tugged her to her feet as he stood up and thanked everyone for being there and witnessing their marriage. Annys struggled not to blush as he led her out of the hall to a chorus of ribald remarks, but knew she failed. She was concentrating so hard on keeping her blushes to a minimum that she was startled when they confronted Benet outside the doors to the great hall.

  “Are ye my father now?” Benet asked Harcourt.

  “Aye,” said Harcourt and Annys could hear the emotion behind the word, that need to say so to everyone, to let the truth be known.

  “We will be leaving here now, aye?” Benet’s voice trembled a little as he spoke and Annys had to fight the urge to hug him.

  “Aye, lad. I will be taking ye and your mother to my keep. Joan and her two sons will be coming along with us.”

  Benet visibly cheered up at that news. “I best go say fareweel to people and get Roberta’s and Roban’s things all packed.” He ran off.

  Harcourt looked at Annys. “Those animals have enough things that they need to be packed?” He grinned when she laughed, picked her up in his arms, and ran up the stairs.

  Annys got a brief glimpse of flowers set in pots all around her room before Harcourt kicked the door shut behind them. He set her on her feet and kissed her. Her passion roared to life, the sudden ferocity of it fed by the fact that the battle with Adam had interrupted their time together and the knowledge that this man was now all hers.

  Harcourt skillfully removed her gown as he kept her drugged with kisses. When she wore only her shift, he carried her to the bed, smiling faintly at the rose petals sprinkled over the clean linen. The way she watched him as he shed his clothes fired his blood until he feared he would begin panting like a dog on a hot summer day. There was a glint of possessiveness in that look and he welcomed it. For the first time in his life he liked the fact that a woman saw him as hers.

  Joining her in bed, he kissed her again as he tugged off her shift. When they were finally skin to skin, he groaned with pleasure. The way she trembled faintly at the same time delighted him. The passion they shared was fierce and he wanted that to lead to a love that was just as fierce.

  Annys stroked the smooth, warm skin on his broad back. As he kissed his way to her breasts, she noticed that something was different. The desire she felt for him had always been hot but now she realized that there were no tethers on it. Deep inside, where she had been able to ignore it, had lingered a shame over how much she had craved and enjoyed lovemaking with a man who had not been her husband. She had obviously not been disregarding the rules as completely as she had believed.

  Desire stole her ability to think as he made love to her. He left no part of her untouched or untasted. Annys was trembling with the need to feel him inside her. She clutched at his broad shoulders and tugged, urging him back into her arms. The way he made love to her with his mouth, his intimate kisses, made her ache, but she wanted them to find their releases as one, joined in body as they were now joined by vows.

  “Harcourt,” she cried, barely recognizing her own voice, which was thick and husky with desire, “I want ye with me.”

  He stroked her one last time with his tongue, intoxicated by the taste of her, before slowly kissing his way back up her body. The way her eyes were darkened by passion’s heat only added t
o his need for her. He, too, wanted them to find their joy as one. It would be the perfect seal to their wedding night, to the vows they had just exchanged.

  Annys cried out with pleasure as he thrust himself inside her. She slid her hands down his sides until she could clutch his taut backside as he moved. When her release came it shook her to her core. The way Harcourt’s thrusts grew fierce told her he was close and then she felt the warmth of his seed spill inside her, telling her he was with her as she fell. That knowledge sent yet another wave of intense pleasure through her. A small, sane fragment of her desire-fogged mind heard him say something and clung to the words.

  Harcourt had already cleaned them both off, settled at her side in bed, and pulled her close to his side before that desperately grasped memory spread through her mind. At first Annys doubted what her mind was telling her. She had not been clearheaded and her need to hear those words was so fierce she could easily have imagined it. She sighed. It was time to grow a backbone.

  “Did ye say ye love me?” she asked, her heart beating so fast she was surprised he did not feel it.

  “Aye. Wondered if ye had heard me.” He kissed the top of her head and lightly stroked her back. “I can wait until ye feel the same. I think ’tis near. Ye just need a wee bit more time. I understand that. Matters have moved fast and there was a lot that needed doing.”

  Annys propped herself up on one elbow and stared at him. “I think Joan is right. Men can be idiots.” She bit back a smile when he looked both confused and a little insulted. “Do ye truly believe I would yet again marry a mon I didnae love?” The glint of hope in his eyes made her brave. “I think I loved ye five years ago. ’Tis why it hurt so badly when ye rode away without a word, without a backward glance.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “That was the hardest thing I have e’er done but ye were married.”

  “I ken it and I finally let that heal the wound. Ye had no choice. I had no choice.”

  “So, ye love me.”

  “Aye, fool.”

  He laughed. “Aye, I think I might be. Then again, men dinnae often think marriage or passion need love.”

  “I ken it. ’Tis why I didnae dare hope that it was what inspired you.”

  “I think there is a lesson here.”

  “Aye? What would that be?” She began to stroke his belly, smiling to herself when she felt him harden against her leg.

  “The lesson here is that we must nay just think we ken what the other feels or thinks. We must say it. Just say it.”

  “A verra good plan, Sir Harcourt.” She lifted her head from his chest and kissed him. “I love you.”

  “And I love you, m’lady.”

  “I am actually thinking something now if ye care to hear it.”

  “What would that be?”

  She slid her hand down his belly and clasped him in her hand. “I am thinking ’tis my wedding night and ye are nay paying the proper homage to your new wife.”

  He laughed and rolled until she was beneath him. “I will pay ye homage until ye scream my name, m’lady.”

  “We shall see, my boastful knight.”

  She did. Annys just prayed everyone at Glencullaich was asleep or she would never hear the end of it.

  Harcourt looked at the woman asleep in his arms and sighed. He should tell her about his concerns after all that fine talk about just speaking up. Yet, it had just been a small worry. It had begun to grow as they spoke of love though. Gormfeurach was no Glencullaich. It was a warrior’s home with good defenses but little else. He could not help but wonder what she was going to think about her new home. He did not fear one look at the place would kill her love, but he did dread the fact that she could be sorely disappointed in the home he was offering her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Annys stared at the keep as their cart rolled through the gates of Gormfeurach. It was big, but much the same as the one at Glencullaich and she found some comfort in that. There was none of the softness of Glencullaich, however. The place was certainly defensible but it did not appear all that livable. She and Joan would have their work cut out for them.

  As Harcourt helped her and Joan out of the cart, Benet and Joan’s two sons scrambled down and cautiously looked around. Benet tugged Roberta down and Roban quickly leapt onto the lamb’s back. Annys tried to ignore the interested and amused looks the pair drew. Her attention was fixed on the couple that had just stepped out of the keep and waited for them on the steps.

  The man bore a strong resemblance to Harcourt with his black hair and strong features but, as Harcourt led her closer to the couple, she could see that the man’s eyes were a deep, rich green. The woman was pretty but her one truly memorable feature was her eyes as they were an odd mixture of gray and blue. Annys tried not to be nervous as Harcourt introduced her to his brother Sir Brett Murray and his wife, Lady Triona. To her surprise, Harcourt introduced Joan to them as well, immediately placing Joan in a position of importance in this new household.

  “Oh! My dear friend is also called Joan,” said Lady Triona. “’Tis a good thing ye are at different keeps or we should have to add some silly second name like Tall Joan or Old Joan, or Round Joan, which my friend now is for she is carrying another child.”

  “Just as long as I dinnae end up being Old Joan,” said Joan and laughed along with Triona and Annys. “Sir Harcourt said I would be the one to run the household for her ladyship,” she added, standing straighter, her pride clear to hear in her voice.

  “Oh, and ye are sorely needed. Come, let us leave the men to their talk and I will show ye around your new domain.”

  Harcourt sighed with relief when Triona, Joan, and Annys disappeared into the keep. He had not feared that Triona would not sweetly welcome any wife he brought back but knew Annys worried. She had, in many ways, lived a cloistered life, and meeting new people, especially ones whose good opinion she craved, made her very nervous. He then looked at Brett and sighed again for his brother was staring hard at Benet.

  “There is a cat sitting on that lamb,” Brett said.

  “Lamb is called Roberta, who is not for the pot, and the cat is called Roban,” Harcourt said. “It seems the cursed cat really likes to ride around on that lamb.” He waited patiently for Brett to stop laughing. “And, aye, Benet is just who ye think but to the world he is the only son and heir of Sir David MacQueen of Glencullaich and now the heir to David’s brother Sir Nigel.”

  “And why should your blood be claimed by another mon?”

  “Because David saved my life. I had been attacked and was close to dying. Couldnae move, couldnae e’en do anything to stop myself from bleeding. David found me and took me in. He didnae ken who I was and I was in no state to tell him until later. I had been robbed so there was no sign of what place I held in this world. I was also just tossed on the side of a drover’s path. It took a verra long time and lots of work to get me back to my fine, handsome self.

  “Naturally I wanted to repay him. He said I could give him a child and told me something we thought no one outside of Glencullaich kenned—he had been gelded by a jealous husband. He could have no children. Couldnae really bed his wife, although I think that problem came from more than the gelding. He asked me to bed his wife until she was with child. He had seen how I looked at her and, though it sounds vain, how she looked at me. The reasons he gave me, the mon who sought to take hold of Glencullaich being all David said he was, made me agree. I also thought it would nay matter to me. That I could ride away from it and ne’er think of it again.”

  “But ye couldnae.”

  “I did but heart and mind ne’er did. This may nay have to stand forever. Nigel is young and may find a wife, breed his own son. Then we dinnae need to be so secretive. He just wouldnae want David’s name, weel, stained in any way. Right now I can act the father just as many men do when they marry a lass with a child.” He cocked one brow at Brett who then nodded. “It will do and when the boy is old enough, I will explain it all to him.”

&nbs
p; “We will hold faith with your promise to David. After all, we owe the mon your life. ’Tis just a verra high price the mon asked for your life but I am nay sure I would have done differently.”

  “David loved the lad, treated him as if he truly was his own get. The lad could someday be a laird.” Harcourt shrugged. At that time I certainly couldnae have offered a child a future like that. But, ’tis done and I will live with it. ’Tis comforting that I can now have the raising of him and he already calls me Papa.”

  “’Tis good.” He glanced toward the keep. “Think they are done with whate’er it is they were doing?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  “There is ale in the great hall.”

  “Then we will wait for them there.” He looked back at Benet and Joan’s two boys. “We are going inside. If ye stay out here, be careful. If ye can find one of those MacFingals they would show ye around if ye like.”

  “We will be careful, Papa,” said Benet, “and we have Roban to protect us.”

  Harcourt nodded and, as he and Brett walked into the great hall he had to explain why his son would think a cat that liked to ride around on a lamb would be protection. He had to pour Brett’s ale for him because he was laughing so hard.

  “Weel,” said Annys as she, Joan, and Triona walked through the kitchens heading for the kitchen gardens, “’tis clean enough but verra bare, isnae it.”

  “Aye,” agreed Triona. “’Tis a household of men. Be grateful for the cleanliness.”

  “’Tis untouched,” said Joan as they stepped outside. “Ye dinnae need to take away anything or change anything. Just decide what ye want.”

  “Verra true,” said Annys. “I can actually plan what I want and just do it without much rearrangement. Oh sweet Mary’s cow,” she muttered as she looked at what she supposed was supposed to be a garden.

  “Aye.” Triona nodded and scowled at the weed-choked area. “Men. Aye, I ken there are some women about but no one who appears to ken what chores need to be done. They clean and they cook and then they go home. Only a verra few stay here.” She looked at Joan. “It wasnae safe for a lass under the last laird. I fear it will take time for the women to believe it is safe now.”