CHAPTER NINETEEN
With summer’s end came the winds. Sean settled into a routine and as the weeks passed, he continued to have the fortification guarded. He began training with the soldiers and wanted to get to know the Hume clansmen. The more time he spent with them, the more his respect grew for they were hardworking and loyal.
No other women were counted as missing and no further messages or gifts were received by Frances. But Sean thought it peculiar, because the killer was definitely in the region, unless he had to leave for some reason.
Sean found Frances sitting on the barbican looking over the rolling hills beyond the keep. He stood silently watching her. There was a time when he never would have thought he’d be wedded to such a woman and yet he had. She was everything he’d always wanted in a wife and more. Though he was hesitant to speak of his feelings to her, he hoped his actions showed his regard.
His wife gasped and flinched when she saw him out of the corner of her eye.
“Oh, Sean, you frightened me.”
“What are you doing out here?” He reached the wooden bench she sat upon and leaned against the wall.
“Reflecting.”
“What? Come, you shouldn’t be out here. The winds are picking up and it is dangerous.”
“I was reflecting, Sean, you know thinking about things. It has been a while since I’ve been out here. I usually come out here when I’m melancholy and I haven’t been. I have you to thank for that.” She smiled and then turned back to look at the fields. “It will be dangerous when winter comes and the winds change course. How goes the harvest?”
Sean didn’t like being away from Frances all day, but he had to see to assisting the crofters with the harvest and ensure enough meat was stored for the long winter. He was thankful he’d paid attention to Grey’s duties when he’d guarded him. There were many responsibilities for the care of the clan.
“We’re nearly done. I am considering …”
Frances moved aside and Sean sat astride the bench, getting as close to her as he could. She shivered. He set his arms around her body, clasping them at her waist, warming her. She appeared to be thinner lately and he thought to mention it. She leaned back, allowing him to support her. She was in the perfect position for a kiss. Sean nuzzled the soft skin of her throat and made his way to her lips.
She distracted him, so much so, that he yanked her hard against him, devouring her sweet mouth beneath his. He kept hold of her waist and heard her surrender when she moaned.
When he pulled his lips away, he said, “You addle me, lass, for whenever I’m near you all I can think about is kissing you. I was going to suggest that we hold a celebration in honor of the harvest’s end. The clan could use some merriment.”
“I deem we should, especially before the cold weather sets in. We should allow the servants a day of rest after too. I’ve been meaning to mention it.”
Sean continued to kiss her, trailing his lips wherever her flesh was bared. She went on to say something about the cook and her need of rest, and something about the families. “Aye, arrange it.” But he barely heard a word she said for he was caught up in kissing her.
“I’ll begin preparations. When do you want to have this celebration?”
“A sennight from now. We’ve plenty of meat stored, more than enough for winter, and we can have the hunters add to it before then.”
“That’s enough time to ready. I’ll speak with Mistress Ina and we’ll start preparing on the morrow.” She smoothed a hand over his hair and let her hand glide down the side of his face.
Sean shook as a blast of wind whistled against the crenellation. “Come inside, it’s getting cold out here and supper will be served.”
“Is that all you think about? Eating?” Frances laughed.
“Nay, that’s the second most thing I think of.”
“What’s the first?” She laughed when he chased her to the door.
“I’ll show ye later, love, when it’s dark.”
Sean followed her inside and then down to the hall. Davy must’ve went to bed and he noticed the two sentry guards standing at the entrance to the keep. He gave a nod to them and went into supper.
The hall brightened with all the candles now alight and the fire that blazed in the hearth at the opposite end. The room was cozy and welcoming. He relaxed back in the high-backed chair and sipped on the ale a servant set before him.
Frances spoke with Mistress Ina at the end of the table and their conversation became animated. Mistress Ina suggested they have Stephen, the miller, send leftover scraps of material so they could make banners to hang about the bailey and lanes. She declared the banners would ward off evil spirits.
Sean would’ve laughed, except he knew the old lady was somewhat superstitious, and caught her doing odd things around the keep. And verily no woman should sing the bard’s he’d often caught her singing.
One day, he was in the entry and when a butterfly came through the doorway, she declared they’d have good luck. He’d grinned and gave a slight nod in agreement. But he was already blessed – in his home, wife, family, and clan, and he couldn’t ask for anything more.
James strolled into the room and sat in the chair across from him. “Sean, we’ve a message from Grey. He’ll be here within a fortnight or so. Said he had to tend to the harvest before he would come.”
“That is good news, James. I didn’t expect him though and only asked that Gordy and a few others be sent. I wonder why he’s coming. Surely he has duties to see to.”
James hunched his shoulder. “Mayhap he wanted to see you. You know how meddlesome he can be.”
“No truer words were ever spoken. Do you think …? I’ve been wondering if Grey set me up. I believe he and Lord William conspired to have me become lord here. He knew all along that I would not return.”
James laughed. “I wouldn’t put it past him. Remember how he betrothed Elisa to you in order to get Kenneth to wed her? And he did it all to get Kenneth to cease mourning Greer.”
Sean recalled that time, and realized James spoke the truth. He, however, didn’t want to think of that time when he’d done everything he could to get out of being betrothed to Elisa. “As much as Kenneth adores his wife, the woman was too wilful and not to my liking. I like a woman who is winsome and of a docile temper.”
James glanced at the end of the hall at Frances and chuckled. “I deem that’s what you got, my friend, in your wife.”
“I am fortunate in my wife and I’m am glad you didn’t talk me out of going through with the betrothal.”
His friend grinned, but didn’t retort.
“I vow Grey’s a sneaky clootie.” He laughed, but the more the thought of it, the more his suspicions rang true. His laird interfered again. “We’ll see him soon then since he’s coming.”
Frances had returned from the far end of the hall and sat next to him. “Who is coming?”
“My laird,” Sean said, gladdened she hadn’t heard his discussion with James. and looked up when the door banged. He was about to rise to see who had entered the keep when he saw his steward.
Jacob entered and sat on the opposite side of James. He set about filling his trencher and didn’t offer a greeting.
“What’s amiss, Jacob? Why so solemn?” Sean asked. It was unlike him.
“Herbert killed himself.”
Both he and James set their cups down what with the way he’d blurted it out.
“What say you? He did? Why? When?” James’ befuddlement lent to his stutter.
Jacob pushed away his trencher. He tilted his head in Frances’ direction, keeping tight-lipped. “I don’t wish to speak of this in front of my lady.”
“You can speak in front of Frances. We don’t have secrets. Now tell me what happened.” Sean sat forward, motioning with his hand for him to be forthcoming.
Jacob grumbled under his breath. “I don’t want to upset my lady, for it will. Och I was in the village when word came. Herbert went off to his wife’s
brother’s in Selkirkshire to stay because his wife was upset about Sabine’s disappearance.”
“Aye, we heard that.” Sean eased back into his chair.
“They’d found his body in the barn. He was hanging by the rafter. Must have been too much for him. His poor daughter missing, likely dead, and his wife distraught.”
James pounded the table. “Aye I’d say. Poor fellow.”
Sean watched Frances’ expression. She seemed upset by the news and her shoulders slouched. After she’d taken a trencher from the side table, she began filing it and then took a seat near them.
“How wretched for that family. I wish we could find Sabine, for her mother’s sake.” Frances started eating and kept quiet after making that remark.
Sean couldn’t eat a thing. The news instilled such vengeance in him. He wanted retribution for who killed Winifred, who abducted Sabine, which caused her father’s despair, and most of all who threatened Frances. The happenings infuriated him.
He looked at James and said, “Sir John, I’ve been told, was sent on an errand for the king to England and he’s been gone for at least a fortnight. Mayhap Sir John is not the culprit after all.”
“We should not rule him out, Sean. For there hasn’t been any happenings in weeks.”
“Aye, true.” But that let his mind to Lord Lombard and the fact that he hadn’t heard or seen the man since their encounter when he’d tried to return Winifred’s body. If Lombard was hiding, then that was telling. Sean would have the Gunns trail him as soon as they arrived.
* * *
All from the village came inside the walls of the keep for the harvest celebration. Frances worked hard the last few days to make the keep look grand with banners set upon pikes that lined the walkways. She’d asked some of the guardsmen to take to hunting early the day before so they would have plenty of deer, rabbit, boar, and goose meat for the fires. As she directed the men to erect the fire pits, she saw Sean standing afar speaking with James.
The midafternoon sun shone on him and her breath caught. Lord he was handsome. Aye the man was too beautiful to look at. How fortunate was she to be wed to him? Frances sighed and continued on with her duties.
She went to the kitchens, thankful no one followed. It had been some time since she’d been given a vile gift and no further messages were left. She had to wonder if the knave got bored and moved on. Such relief lightened her heart.
The kitchens were full of servants who busied themselves making the dishes of food that would be served later in the evening. Maddie scampered from pot to pot, shouting directions. There were a good many lads refilling the pots with water for boiling, and several lassies cutting vegetables and preparing food for the pots.
Frances sensed as though she were intruding and taking up much needed space, so she left and went to the keep. After checking on Ermintrude, she went to her chamber to change before the celebration began.
Her stomach twitched and turned, and had been upset since the morn, when she couldn’t withstand any food. All the garments she had were too large for her and she found a silk tie for her waist. She chose a matching blue one, a shade darker than the overdress she selected.
Once she’d finished washing in the basin, combing her hair, and dressing, she slipped her feet into the slippers she favored. Dusk began to settle outside and the window casement darkened. The celebration was beginning and she heard the clan already assembling.
Revelry, laughter, and shouts came. She could hear music and children’s voices. She allowed Ermintrude to join in the festivities, but only for a little while.
Alice had dressed her in a gown Stephen had made for her. Her daughter looked fetching in the rich brown velvet, and Frances could’ve wept at how pretty she appeared.
As they descended the stairs, she instructed Alice. “Do not let her out of your sight. Give her an extra hour and then it’s off to bed with her.” To Ermintrude she said, “Mind Alice and do not run off.”
“Aye, Momma.” She clasped Alice’s hand and they skipped off to join the celebration.
Frances hastened outside and found Sean seated next to James, who was telling a humorous story about her husband. Frances couldn’t help smiling because they were indeed jovial.
The men around James were enthralled in his telling the tale. “Aye, I vow, Sean did everything he could to affront the woman. He was devious. None knew what he was doing until the day of the wedding. I thought he’d faint akin to a lass, for I’d never seen him so full of ire and defeat.”
Sean laughed. “Aye I thought I was going to too. I considered falling to the ground, hoping you would all leave me there. I might have been devious, but it was the only way I could get Kenneth to give over and take the lass for himself. Och I realized he wanted Elisa. I didn’t want to wed her.”
Frances raised a brow. “You were to marry?”
“Aye, my laird bid me to wed Elisa MacQuarrie for her protection. Betrothed me to her and I had no choice but to concede. I used a bit of trickery to get her to refute me. We were about to speak the words in front of the priest when Kenneth stepped forward. Thank God Almighty.”
All laughed, but her.
“His neck was saved from the marital noose. That is until Elisa snuck away and we had to follow to protect her. Oh, milady, I meant no offense,” James went on to say.
“None taken. Why would you protect her if she married Kenneth?” Frances asked Sean, becoming bothered by the story.
But James answered, “She didn’t want her husband to know what she was about. But Sean and I suspected she was up to something, so we followed her all the way to MacQuarrie land. She was the most stubborn woman we’d ever met. Even the king had trouble dealing with the lass.”
Sean raised his cup. “Aye she was a vixen and I’m glad she wed Kenneth, for I’ve my own bonny, sweet wife.”
Frances didn’t like hearing the tale at all. She wondered if Sean had kissed the woman and if she’d been enamored of him. Frances certainly was. She shook the thoughts away and grabbed a large cup of ale and chugged the contents.
Alice approached with her daughter in her arms. She looked sleepy. “We’re to bed, my lady.”
Sean took Ermintrude from Alice’s hold and said, “Sleep well, wee love. Dream merry.” He placed a light kiss on her forehead.
“I will, Da.”
Frances kissed her sweet child, and Sean handed her back to Alice. They left the celebration.
Throughout the evening, she was greeted by many of the clan’s men and women, whom she introduced to Sean. He was gracious and sociably adept, charming the women and praising the men. Pride filled her, for he was a good lord, and they were all blessed to have him there.
As the sky darkened and the fires were lit, she danced and drank, and tried her best not to think of the woman her husband was supposed to wed. She wondered if the woman was beautiful. Frances wanted to berate herself for lacking confidence and for being envious of a woman wed to another.
The night wore on and the celebration continued. Many would not seek their beds until near dawn. She heard the revelry and noise around her, but her eyes blurred and she needed to take a rest. As she made her way to the table, she leaned against it, trying to hold on. Her legs weakened and shook. The fires grew large and the glow seemed to make her eyes water and blur.
Someone picked her up and she immediately recognized Sean’s body. Frances set her arms around him grateful he’d rescued her.
“Love, come, you need to be put abed.”
“She was beautiful wasn’t she?” Frances’ head spun and she closed her eyes.
“You’re beautiful, the most of any woman I’ve seen.”
She heard his footsteps and sounds retreating from the celebration. Frances didn’t know what happened for the ale she’d drank wasn’t that strong. The next thing she knew, the door to their chamber slammed and she was set on her feet.
“Aye, you’ll feel better once you get some sleep.”
The chamber began
to spin. She needed the chamber pot and hastened to it before she’d make a mess of things. How mortifying. She wretched and her stomach and throat burned, and her eyes stung. When she couldn’t bring up anything more, she huffed, and reached for a drying cloth nearby to wipe her face.
“Frances, love, are you … come, you’re unwell. I’ll help you to bed.” He tried to take hold of her arm, but she shrugged away.
“Nay, I need to … Sean, I deem something is wrong with me. My head hurts, my stomach hurts … I only had three cups of ale, not much at all and …” She tried to be quiet but honestly, her stomach wouldn’t allow it.
With all her heart she wished he’d go away so she could die in peace. That or she could disappear.
Sean stood nearby her, holding her hair, and saying words to which she couldn’t hear. Her ears rang and her brain muddled. She was thankful when she was able to wipe her face with a cool cloth and wash her mouth out with water.
Mistress Ina, who she hadn’t heard enter, spoke from across the chamber, telling Sean what to do, but Frances’ ears were still ringing. She heard the door close and felt her gown being removed from over her head.
“I want to die,” she said, before she fell flat onto the bed.
“Don’t ever say that!” Sean yelled at her. He knelt beside the bed, watching her with his imploring eyes.
She reached out to him. “Help me,” was the last thing she remembered saying before she succumbed.
* * *
Sean stood inside the chamber watching over the tending of his wife. Mistress Ina called the healer, a middle-aged woman, Muriel, who dressed akin to a clootie. Aye she appeared to be the reaper for all the dark colors she wore. He hadn’t seen her since she’d attended Lord William on his deathbed.
When she’d removed her black cloak, the brightness of her hair almost blinded him, for she had hair as red as their king’s. But he didn’t care who she was as long as the woman cured Frances.
He’d never seen anyone so ill in his life, and his sweet wife became delirious. She’d called out to him and each time his heart beat ferociously, even when she’d said she loved him. He’d hoped she would say the words, but not in the condition she was in. The setting he’d envisioned when they proclaimed their love was far more romantic.
A Highlander In Peril (Gunn Guardsman) Page 21