by Alisa Adams
4
Alexa's Party
Gregor Carmichael was exhausted. He was being trained to take over the lairdship of his father's estate, but it was not at all what he wanted to do. He knew he should have felt honored and privileged to be the future owner of a beautiful estate where he and his father were held in high regard by their tenants. Their land was productive, and he was betrothed to one of the most beautiful girls in the area. He knew he should be happy, but he was not. He felt trapped and discontented, visualizing the years stretching down ahead of him, a vista of sameness.
There would be a manager, of course, but the laird carried the ultimate responsibility, and he simply did not want it. The woman he was to marry was beautiful, but not intelligent or witty. She had been brought up to be a typical rich man's wife, cosseted and spoiled to decorate his arm till it was time to produce the obligatory heir. He simply could not imagine a life with Lorraine Abernethy. He would be bored to tears in under a year.
He wanted to travel, to see France and Spain, maybe even go to Rome. He wanted to study the Greek philosophers and become a great thinker like Aristotle, Plato or Socrates. He wanted to experience life on the sea – sail on a boat in the wide ocean which he had seen but never experienced or traveled upon.
Somehow, he could not imagine Lorraine being happy to eat salt port, ship’s biscuit, and pickled limes for weeks on end. No, it seemed that his life would begin and end here in his estate near Ullapool in the Highlands of Scotland, meeting no one but his tenants and an endless procession of vacuous young ladies and bragging young men. He had wanted to decide for himself who was a suitable bride, but that choice had been made for him, and in a few months the Lady Lorraine would be his wife whether he liked it or not.
Now he was tired, both physically and mentally. He had been up before dawn to attend the difficult birth of a foal to one of his favorite horses. Then he had gone to the livestock market, but he was still expected to go to dinner with Laird Iain Drummond.
Why all this fuss about Alexa Montgomery's eighteenth birthday, for heaven's sake? He had never even met the girl! But she was one of Lorraine's friends, and it was Midsummer Night, the longest and lightest evening of the year when the sun would not set till nearly midnight and light would break again at three o'clock in the morning. Heather bloomed in purple splendor all over the hills, and the lochs were a brilliant teal blue. It is a wonderful time to have a birthday, he thought, when spirits were high, and all the world was rejoicing with all day and night to do it in.
His birthday was at Yule, in the darkest, most somber time of year. The day was barely eight hours long and the nights were brutally cold. Drifts of windblown snow could be ten feet deep and any unwary traveler caught in a snowstorm and losing his way would be found stiff and frozen solid a few hours later.
But even the sight of the drifts of purple heather on the hills and the long view out to the shining sea had no power to cheer him that night. He sighed, then lay down on his bed for a while, asking his valet to wake him up in an hour.
He awoke in a little while, only a little refreshed but not cheered, and sat in a hot bath till the water began to cool down and chill him, then he stood up, put on his best tunic and cloak with his plaid over his shoulder, and went out to where his horse, Bonnie, was standing waiting for him patiently.
She turned her head and messed up his blue-black hair with her chin, and he knew that if horses could speak, she would be asking after his health, concerned that he looked so sad. He kissed her velvet nose, and they set off.
It was a two-mile journey, and to safeguard himself he carried no valuables and was accompanied by three of his most trusted armed guards, who rode behind him and on either side. He himself was heavily armed with a sword and a dagger. He considered himself as safe as he possibly could be.
He resented all the precautions he had to take, but he could not spend his whole life trapped in his castle.
* * *
He met Lorraine at the door. There was no doubt she was a very, very lovely woman. She had fair hair, warm hazel eyes almost the same color as his own, and dainty features like those of a painted doll. She was well-rounded without being fat.
This evening she was wearing a rust brown silk dress embroidered in white and a white silk veil. She looked magnificent.
Despite himself, Gregor felt proud as he greeted her and they walked together to sample the wine on offer. She met one of her friends, and they began to chatter about the latest fashions from France. When they had exhausted this subject, they went on to the betrothal of this woman to that man, a marriage, the birth of a baby, and a scandal about a French diplomat and a chieftain's wife.
Gregor yawned. Despite his nap, he was practically asleep on his feet, and all he wanted to do was go home and go to bed to sleep till the forenoon the next day. He turned around to face the middle of the room as a cheer went up, and then he saw her.
He had thought Lorraine was lovely, but she could not hold a candle to this woman – or he supposed he should say girl. The man who was leading her in was Graham Hamilton, and he felt a stab of jealousy as he looked at them both.
Alexa was wearing a dress for once. It was made of the palest cream silk and shimmered in the light from the windows. It had a shape that was drawn in to emphasize her slender waist, then it flared out so that it formed a circle around her feet. The long sleeves hugged her arms tightly till they got to the elbow then dropped into cuffs so long that they touched the ground. The neckline of the dress and the edges of her veil were both embroidered in gold.
He knew he was probably not the only man who was seeing her and wanting her for his own, but he knew that he was probably the only one who had made a decision not to marry the woman to whom he was betrothed because he had seen her. It was true that he did not know Alexa and did not love her, but something about her touched him so deeply that he knew he could not be content with the woman he was to marry.
She had tousled fair curls under her veil, and if her eyes were not the exact same shade of blue as the sky, they were very close. Her face was heart-shaped, her lips full and soft, and as she drew nearer, he could see that there was a sprinkling of freckles across her nose.
"Gregor!" Graham said joyfully. "It has been too long! I have not seen you since – when was it?"
Gregor laughed.
"The Yuletide Ball!" he answered. "And I am not a bit surprised you cannot remember. If my memory serves me correctly, you had forgotten how to stand upright!"
Graham put his hands over his eyes, shaking his head and pretending to be embarrassed, then he laughed.
"My love." He indicated to Alexa. "This is Gregor Carmichael, who used to be a friend of mine, and of course you already know his lovely fiancée, Lorraine Abernethy."
"Yes!" Alexa laughed. "Since we were ten!"
Gregor kissed Alexa's hand and smiled at her, then she smiled back, and he was captivated. She looked away to listen to something Graham was saying, and he took the chance to look up and down her slender figure. She was exquisite, and he knew that she was not an empty-headed chatterbox like Lorraine.
They moved on at last, and Gregor felt depressed suddenly. He wanted to go home.
"Are you feeling ill?" Lorraine asked.
He nodded.
"Very, very tired," he replied, yawning.
"Where are your attendants?"
"Outside, but do not worry, Lorraine, I am sure I can stay awake long enough to be courteous to our hosts."
He smiled at her as she walked away to get some more wine, then stayed to talk to a few other ladies. They seemed to be talking about him, for they looked over at him from time to time. Gregor set his wine aside. Too much more and he would fall asleep where he sat.
Unknown to Gregor, Alexa was watching him.
She had been struck by the tall stranger with the blue-black hair the minute she saw him. She wanted to talk with him, but she could see that Graham was watching her, so she waited.
After
a few moments, he went away to play cards with another man, leaving her to go and sit beside Gregor.
Alexa looked into Gregor's dark green eyes with an expression of concern.
"Are you all right, sir?" she asked anxiously. "You look very pale."
"I am fine." He smiled. "Just very, very tired. I have been up since very early this morning at a difficult foaling. She is one of my best mares, and I had no wish to lose her or her baby."
"You should not have come then," Alexa said, her voice gentle. "I don't want my guests to be ill. Then I may have to call the doctor, and nobody will come to my parties after that!" Then she smiled. "And are mother and baby both well?"
"They are indeed. A breech birth, but a fine healthy colt."
He really does have lovely eyes, she thought, thinking of Graham's hazel ones, just as handsome, but different.
"You look very beautiful," Gregor said, speaking before he had time to think.
Alexa gave a soft, breathy laugh.
"Thank you." She flushed and stood up. "Are you sure there is nothing we can do for you? Perhaps you would like to take a rest in one of the bedrooms upstairs?"
"I am fine, really."
He stood up, and she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. He was at least ten inches taller than she was.
"But thank you very much for your concern. I appreciate it very much."
She smiled, curtsied, and went away, feeling his eyes watching her all the way across the room. Soon she was by Graham's side again, and she forgot about Gregor.
The next time she remembered and searched for him, he had disappeared.
* * *
Gregor did go home early that night, little knowing that he was one of two men who was thinking about Alexa Montgomery before he went to sleep. Graham was going over the evening in his mind, well-satisfied that he was envied by so many of the young men there. But one other person was thinking about her too.
* * *
Lorraine Abernethy had seen the way Gregor was looking at Alexa. It was a look she knew well, for it had often been directed at her by other men before Gregor. Gregor had never given her that look. Indeed, he had never been passionate towards her in any way. He treated her with courtesy, deference, and affection, but he had his faults, and he could be a touch patronizing at times. Nobody was perfect, after all!
He talked to other men about the price of livestock, the use of land, the war going on in the south with the English and other such topics which bored her to distraction. It made her wonder what they would have in common when they were married.
But she knew Alexa. She had a ready wit and a keen mind, and Lorraine had no doubt that whatever she did not know about the price of livestock, the use of land, or the war with the English, she would find out. Then and there she resolved to be more curious, cleverer, and the kind of woman that Gregor could respect and admire. She did not want to be the kind of wife who did nothing more than bear children.
She had a feeling that he looked down on her, that he was doing no more than his duty by promising to marry her. When she had seen Alexa earlier in the evening, a chill of dread had tingled down her spine. Gregor's whole face had been transformed. Lorraine had tried to distract him, but fortunately, his tiredness had overcome his interest, or so she hoped.
* * *
But even though Gregor found Alexa to be the most fascinating woman he had ever met, he thought of her for all of ten minutes before his body gave in to sheer exhaustion. He slept from eleven that evening till two o'clock the next afternoon.
5
A Conversation of Equals
It was not long after Alexa's birthday in June that the Sutherlands struck again, this time in a number of different homesteads at once. They left several farms burning and killed one farmer and his wife, leaving several small children as orphans.
Alexa, hearing their story, had them brought to the castle where Nanny Joan could look after them till other arrangements could be made. The sight of an eight-year-old boy and a six-year-old girl crying for their dead parents made Alexa's blood boil.
"I wish I could go down there and kill them all myself!" she fumed. "I would poison that Hector Sutherland and watch him die in agony. He is the spawn of Satan himself!"
"Shhh…" Moira put her hand over Alexa's. "Don't upset yourself, Sister. The men are dealing with it. It is not our place to question their actions."
Alexa stood up and threw her knife on the table with such force that it embedded itself into the wood.
"Why not? Have we not been endowed with brains too, Sister, or are we just walking wombs? I am tired of standing on the sidelines doing nothing! I will go and find the entrance to that hellhole myself if the men cannot do it!"
"Alexa, sit down and listen, please," Iain said firmly. "We have gone over the ground around their fortress with a fine-tooth comb, on foot, on horseback and even on all fours. We have had dogs sniffing the area. We have done everything humanly possible, but we cannot find it. We have had men following them home at a distance from the tavern, and they just seem to disappear. Wherever it is – it is invisible!"
"So it is magic now?" Alexa demanded scornfully.
She banged her fist on the table.
"Well, Uncle, I do not believe in magic, and I vow to you now that I will not marry or give up my maidenhead till I have chased these serpents out of their lair, alive but preferably dead!"
She stormed out of the room and went to the stables where she saddled Jenny, fetched her weapons which she kept in a locked cupboard there, and went to do some target practice.
This was the occupation that best calmed her down when she was feeling agitated, and also helped her to think. The valley and hills around what had come to be known as Satan's Lair had been terrorized long enough. She, Alexa Montgomery, eighteen years old and five foot five inches tall, was going to do something about it. The sight of those two little bereft children, orphaned with no protection, angered her beyond words to tell.
Well, she thought, they have protection now.
When she had exhausted all her bolts, she sat down in the shade of a fir tree with her sword laid across her knees. Presently she dozed off and dreamt of charging up a hill with her sword swinging over her head, beheading the Sutherlands, who were standing motionless and stunned by her onslaught. One by one, their heads were toppling down the hill, and Gregor was catching them in a huge basket.
She must have cried out in her sleep, for she woke with a start and realized that a figure was standing over her. She could draw a claymore quicker than anyone she knew but he was faster, and his sword was in his hand before she could blink, its point under her chin.
"Have a care, mistress," Gregor Carmichael said. "You know what species of men infest these parts."
"I do, sir," she replied, sheathing her sword. "Vermin, if I'm not mistaken."
He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Aye!" He sighed. "And they could exact a king's ransom for the niece of a laird."
"I am his sister-in-law, sir, but he is twenty-five years older than I am, so I call him 'Uncle'. But in truth, he is more like a father to me. Between you and me, though, he is a very kind but very dull man."
Gregor laughed.
"My lips are sealed," he said in a mock-solemn fashion.
Alexa laughed with him. He would be a pleasant companion to spend time with, she thought, not to mention his obvious other attractions. She looked at his shining dark hair, as straight as the feathers on a raven's wing.
The next moment she began to reprimand herself for the crime of imagining herself running her fingers through it. What would Graham say? They happened to be going the same way, since his road branched off hers a mile further on, and they walked their horses slowly, enjoying the pleasure of each other’s company.
"It is a coincidence that I met you today," she remarked.
"Why?" he asked, smiling.
"Because I was on this same path a little while ago and I met Gra
ham." Then she laughed. "But he fared about as well as I did with you. I had him in my crossbow sights!"
Gregor threw his head back and laughed with heart.
Alexa giggled.
"You should have seen his face," she went on. "I have seen darker snowflakes!"
"Alexa." Gregor's laughter trailed off. "You should have been a jester!" Then he frowned. "But I have always wondered why you like to dress in boys' clothes so much. Did you want to be born a boy?"
Alexa sighed.
"If I had had any choice in the matter," she replied sadly, "yes, I would have liked that. Girls' pastimes have always seemed rather silly to me. I have no particular wish to bear children, and the thought of being owned by a man – it repels me. But I will do my duty for the family honor."
"Mayhap you will find a man who shares your way of thinking," he mused aloud. "I am sure there are such men."
"Are you one of them?" Her voice was sharp. "Would you marry me?"
"I thank you for the honor, mistress," Gregor replied, laughing. "But I am already betrothed."
The smile left his face as the jest fell on deaf ears. He thought for a moment.
"I would never like to own a woman. And I would like one with a mind of her own. Having said that, I would not like to see my wife rolling around in the mud trying to catch sheep for shearing! Or milking a cow. There are such things as men's and women's jobs!"
"And you would forbid her?" Alexa was interested now.
"Yes, I would," he replied, not liking the way the conversation was going.
"How would you stop her if she was determined?"
Gregor looked at her, astonished. "I would – I would—"
He stopped, nonplussed.
"Beat her?" Alexa suggested. "Lock her in a bedroom? A cupboard? Make her fast for a day, or even two?"
While she waited for his answer, she looked at his face in profile. It was a handsome profile, with thick dark brows low over his hazel-green eyes, a long, perfectly straight nose, a full mouth, and a strong chin. He was frowning in bewilderment now, but she was merciless.