“Is that so?” A dark eyebrow arched at her in mock suspicion. “Was there a hidden motive behind yer seduction of me this mornin'?"
Blood rushed to her face, but before she could reply, Percy was standing in front of them. “Good mornin', brother,” he greeted. “Lady Brigette."
“Brie,” she corrected, smiling warmly at him. “Call me Brie. Remember?"
“I havena’ forgotten.” Percy looked at Iain. “As ye can see, those who could lingered aboot to steal a peek at yer wife. Ye disappointed a great many last night by stayin’ secluded in yer chamber.” Iain frowned at his brother's teasing.
“Where's yer pet?” Percy asked, turning to his sister-in-law.
Recalling the previous day's fiasco in the garden, Brigette blushed and stammered, “Iain—I—we thought it best that Sly remain upstairs."
“'Tis ill done of ye, Brie. No one has secrets at Dunridge, and many are here to see for themselves this miraculously trained beast of yers."
“Leave off,” Iain growled. “Brie and I are verra hungry and want to eat in peace. Ye ken?"
“I ken,” Percy teased, “especially considerin’ the strenuous exercise to which ye must've subjected yerselves."
Brigette flushed with embarrassment; Iain scowled, thinking the whole castle probably knew the exact number of times he'd had his wife. Without another word to his brother, Iain led his wife toward the high board.
Brigette tensed when she saw a beautiful young woman seated at the place usually reserved for the ranking lady of the castle. As the wife of Dunridge's heir, Brigette was that lady. Unless...
“Is your father wed a second time?” she whispered.
“No.” Iain's gaze followed hers, and he understood the bent of her thoughts. Damn Antonia! he cursed inwardly.
At the high board, Iain greeted his father. Brigette, uncertain of the earl's reception, smiled but remained silent.
Black Jack nodded at her, then looked at his son. “Well, ye've had yerself a fine rest."
“Yes.” Iain grinned at his father's teasing. “And I'm takin’ a few hours to show Brie some of the sights. Unless there's somethin’ urgent?"
“When ye return will be time enough to begin work.” Black Jack's gaze drifted to Brigette. “Ye appear well rested, lassie. Where's yer pet?"
“Safely shut away in our chamber, where he'd better be when we return."
Black Jack burst out laughing. “Dinna worry on that account,” he assured her. “Yer husband is yer laird and master. If he's allowin’ ye to keep the beastie, I've nae problem wi’ it.” Black Jack flicked a glance at Iain, then added drily, “I'm only the earl and his father."
Standing nearby, Percy hooted with laughter, and the earl cast his youngest son a scathing glance. Percy's laughter choked off abruptly to muffled chuckles.
Iain could no longer delay the inevitable. He turned to acknowledge the woman seated beside Black Jack.
Antonia MacKinnon MacArthur was a long-legged, full-bosomed, curvaceously slim beauty. Crowning her goddesslike body was an angel's face. She had eyes of blue, a small, straight nose, and skin of ivory silk. Pale blond hair, thick and luxuriant, was pulled away from her incredible face and plaited into one braid that fell to her waist.
The two women eyed each other stonily, natural enemies at first sight. Brigette was furious that Antonia had usurped her seat as Dunridge's ranking lady; Antonia knew Brigette was the reason her scheme to become Dunridge's next countess had failed.
“Brigette, I present Lady Antonia, my brother Malcolm's widow,” Iain said stiffly. “Antonia, this is Lady Brigette."
Determined to make her young adversary feel like an outsider, Antonia looked her over, then smiled coldly. Returning the frigid stare, Brigette merely nodded her head in acknowledgment, her haughty gesture confounding the other woman.
Iain hoped to avoid the brewing storm by leading Brigette to the end of the table. Later, he would order Antonia to give up the position she'd enjoyed until now. Malcolm was dead and she'd not managed to produce an heir. Brigette was Dunridge's ranking lady and would be treated as such.
“Tsk! Tsk!” Antonia whispered loudly to the earl. “I dinna believe Sassenach women are properly schooled in manners."
Brigette whirled around. “I beg your pardon?"
“And well ye should,” Antonia snapped. “Ye failed to curtsy to me."
“Nor shall I,” Brigette said in a voice oozing superiority, delighting their audience. “I am Dunridge's ranking lady, and stealing my chair will not change your position."
Black Jack and Percy howled with laughter. Antonia cast them a disgusted glance, then turned beseeching eyes on Iain, appealing for his support.
“Dinna upset yerself, hinny,” Iain said to Brigette. Staring coldly at Antonia, he added, “This is the last time she'll be sittin’ there."
Iain led Brigette to the far end of the high board, where they would have a small measure of privacy. Once seated, he stared pointedly at the hall's occupants, who were watching in barely contained amusement. It was obvious to all that Iain had been downed by Cupid's arrow. Beneath Iain's dour stare, the MacArthur warriors dispersed to their various duties, but lingering so long had been worth the wait.
“Good mornin'.” Moireach appeared from nowhere to greet them, then chuckled. “Or what's left of it."
She set two bowls of steaming oat porridge, accompanied by cream and honey, on the table in front of them. There was freshly baked bread, creamy butter, jam, and cheese. She'd brought a mug of brown ale for Iain and milk for Brigette.
“I'm not overly fond of milk,” Brigette said. “I'd prefer ale or wine."
“Now, my lady,” the housekeeper insisted gently, “yer ripe to get wi’ child. Ye must drink a mug of milk each and every day. Of course, ye'll drink more when I'm certain this rascal's seed has hit its mark. It's best to drink it in the mornin’ if ye've nae fondness for it. Then ye willna’ be frettin’ aboot it the whole livelong day."
“As you wish.” Brigette forced herself to smile pleasantly at the well-intentioned woman, then lifted the mug and sipped the milk.
“Ye make such a handsome couple,” Moireach gushed. “I canna wait to see yer bairns."
Brigette choked on the milk, and Iain, smothering a chuckle, slapped her back helpfully.
“Well, I've duties need attendin',” Moireach said, turning away. “I'm cookin’ Iain's favorite for supper—haggis."
“Haggis?” Brigette asked, turning to Iain. “What is it?"
“A Highland delicacy."
“Consisting of what?"
“The heart, liver, and lungs of a sheep minced wi’ suet, onions, oatmeal, and seasonin'.” Iain grinned broadly. “Then the whole mixture is boiled in the sheep's stomach."
Brigette gulped, fighting nausea, and pushed her plate away. “I'm not as hungry as I had believed,” she whispered.
Iain swallowed his laughter. “Shall we go, then?"
* * * *
It was an uncommon day in the Highlands, a rarity of cloudless sky and dazzling sunshine and crisp air. The sky was a blanket of blue covering a riot of autumn's vibrant colors—gold, red, and orange mingled with evergreen.
Iain and Brigette gazed silently at the wondrous sight in front of them. Loch Awe shimmered with sunbeams dancing on top of its sparkling blue water. Brigette was overwhelmed by nature's glory and even Iain, accustomed to this sight, was not unaffected.
“Impressive, is it no'?” he commented, catching his wife's expression of wonder.
“Awe-inspiring,” she replied. Iain chuckled, pleased by her wit and everything else about his wife.
Leaving the loch behind, they stopped to visit several of the crofters, who greeted them with genuine warmth and offered what little they could in the way of hospitality. Whatever doubts Iain may have had concerning his wife vanished as he watched her charming his crofters and their families.
For her part, Brigette was impressed with the crofters’ simple dignity and generosity
. She filled with pride at the obvious esteem in which they held Iain and admired him for returning in kind that respect to his people. Most pleasantly surprising of all was their easy acceptance of her as their new lady.
* * * *
When they returned to Dunridge, Brigette slipped from her horse. Intending to take Sly for a walk in the gardens, she dashed into the foyer and headed for the stairs, then came face to face with her cousin, who was carrying the fox.
Smiling, Spring shrugged her shoulders. “I couldn't bear the sounds of his lonely whining any longer."
“I'll take him,” Brigette said and lifted Sly into her arms. “Order a bath for me. I won't be long."
Brigette stepped outside and looked around cautiously. No hounds were running loose. She set Sly down, then noticed a small girl sitting alone. Thinking the child was Iain's niece, Brigette walked over and sat beside her. They exchanged easy smiles.
Five-year-old Glenda was the picture of Antonia. The only dissimilarity was a smattering of freckles sprinkled across her nose.
“You must be Glenda,” Brigette said.
“Yes, ye are Lady Brigette?"
“Yes, but you must call me Brie—all my friends do."
The sparkle that leaped into Glenda's eyes reminded Brigette of Loch Awe. “Are we to be friends, then?"
Seeing the child's hopeful expression, Brigette felt an insistent tugging at her heart. “Of course. Do you want to be my friend?"
“I do."
“Why are you sitting here alone?” Brigette asked.
“It's my play time."
“Well, why are you not playing?"
Glenda's expression drooped. “I've nae friend wi’ whom I can play."
“I don't believe that,” Brigette scoffed gently. “A sweet girl like you must have many friends."
“I have ye."
“But what of the other children at Dunridge?"
“I amna’ allowed to play wi’ them. I did once and was punished."
“Who won't let you to play with the others?"
“Mother,” Glenda told her. “There's nae use in sneakin', cuz whenever I am doin’ somethin’ bad, she knows."
“I see.” Brigette lapsed into thoughtfulness. What a supercilious bitch Antonia is! As a child, I was allowed to play with the other castle children. Why shouldn't Glenda?
Sly sat down in front of them. Cocking his head to one side, he wagged his long tail.
Brigette chuckled. “I believe Sly has decided to befriend you."
“Sly's yer dog?"
“He's mine,” Brigette said with a laugh, “but no dog. Sly is a fox."
“A fox? May I touch him?"
“Yes."
Glenda reached out to pat Sly, who seized the opportunity to lick her hand. When she giggled in surprised delight, he licked her again.
“Sly is a special fox,” Brigette exaggerated. “When I was hopelessly lost in the forest, he saved my life."
“Ye were lost in the forest? He saved yer life?"
Brigette nodded solemnly, ready to embellish her tale. “And—"
“How verra impressive,” Antonia sneered, towering above them. Brigette leaped to her feet, but Antonia ignored her and vented her wrath upon Glenda. “Yer a naughty chit! I told ye to stay away from the Sassenach. Now go to yer chamber."
“Stay where you are,” Brigette ordered, then turned on Antonia. “The child did nothing wrong."
“Mind yer own business,” Antonia shrieked.
“What's goin’ on here?” Black Jack's voice boomed out as he approached them. “What's all this shoutin’ aboot?"
“The Sassenach is interferin’ wi’ my daughter,” Antonia raged. “She hasna’ the right!"
“Glenda only spoke with me,” Brigette explained. “She's not deserving of punishment."
“I agree wi’ ye,” Black Jack said.
“But I am Glenda's mother,” Antonia insisted.
“That's a fact ye only occasionally remember,” Black Jack said, his expression darkening with anger. “Glenda can pass her time wi’ whomever she wishes.” When Antonia opened her mouth to protest, he added, “As head of this family, I will be obeyed. Ye ken?” Without another word, Antonia stalked off.
“Thank you, my lord,” Brigette said.
“Dinna concern yerself wi’ her. She's angry cuz Malcolm died and ruined her chance to become a countess.” Black Jack looked at Glenda, who was staring up at him with an expression akin to awe. “Do ye like yer new aunt from England, lassie?"
Glenda nodded, too shy to speak to this larger-than-life man who was her grandfather.
“And her wily friend here?"
Again the little girl nodded. Black Jack smiled and decided to give Glenda more of his attention. “Would ye care to walk aboot wi’ yer grandfather?"
“I would,” she whispered, then shyly placed her hand in his.
“Did I ever tell ye, hinny,” Black Jack asked as they strolled away, “who ye were named after ...?"
Brigette and Sly walked through the foyer and headed for the stairs. Antonia's voice, raised in anger, drifted out from the great hall. Brigette ignored it and started up the stairs, then halted when she recognized Spring's voice raised in self-defense. How dare Antonia reprimand her cousin! With angry determination stamped across her features, Brigette marched into the great hall.
“I told ye,” Antonia was shouting at Spring, “to fetch my sewin', and ye'd better do it."
“And I told you,” Spring shouted back, “I must see to Lady Brigette's bath."
Antonia raised her hand to strike, but Brigette grabbed it from behind and whirled her around. “Spring is my tirewoman, not a castle servant. Refrain from ordering her about!"
What little control Antonia had on her temper vanished. With a shriek of frustrated rage, she lashed out, slapping Brigette hard across the face. Brigette retaliated instantly, slapping the blond beauty just as hard.
"Ladies!" Iain bellowed, striding across the hall. “And I use the term loosely."
Tears welled up in Antonia's eyes as she faced him. “Lady Brigette attacked me for nae good reason,” she sobbed.
“Cease orderin’ my wife's tirewoman aboot,” Iain commanded, unmoved by her delicate weeping. “And dinna strike my wife again. Go to yer chamber and dinna return till supper."
“She struck me,” Antonia countered. “What aboot her?"
“I'll deal wi’ my wife,” he assured her. “She willna’ strike ye again."
“Am I to be blamed for this?” Brigette was outraged.
“Antonia,” Iain repeated, ignoring his wife's outburst. “I told ye to leave."
“Well?” Brigette challenged after Antonia had gone. “Am I to be sent to my chamber and ordered to keep my hands to myself?"
“I'd never order ye to keep yer hands to yerself,” Iain said, then grinned suggestively. “Go to yer chamber—I'll join ye shortly."
7
On a cold and bleak November afternoon, Glenda stood in the winter-barren garden. She threw a ball to Sly, who caught it in his mouth and returned it to her. Laughing, Brigette clapped her hands appreciatively at the fox's newly learned trick.
“My playtime is nearly over,” Glenda said glumly.
“I suspect so,” Brigette replied. “Would you like to make it last a little longer?"
“Yes, but Mother will be angry wi’ me."
Brigette smiled mischievously. “I've devised a system for always doing what I want and never catching trouble."
“What is it?” Glenda's eyes gleamed with excitement.
Before speaking, Brigette glanced around cautiously as if looking for eavesdroppers. “Life has two paths you may follow, the long road and the short road,” she told the little girl. “When there's a thing I don't want to do, I always take the long road. That way I delay whatever it is I don't want to do. For example, when playtime is over, the short road is through that garden door. The long road is walking all the way around to the front courtyard."
&
nbsp; “What if Mother or Grandfather becomes angry wi’ me?"
“You have a course of action available in that event. If it's a man, like your grandfather, you must bat your eyelashes like so.” With great exaggeration, Brigette batted her eyelashes, and giggling, Glenda imitated her.
“Excellent!” Brigette exclaimed. “Never forget that a beautiful woman who bats her eyelashes at a man is irresistible.” Glenda laughed and Brigette added, “It's silly but true."
“What if my mother is angry?"
“If it's a woman, like your mother,” Brigette answered, “then you must do the same thing you do after you've batted your eyelashes at a man."
“Which is?"
“You lie."
“Lyin’ is a terrible sin,” Glenda cried. “It's naughty!"
“Nonsense! As there are two roads to follow, there are two kinds of lies,” Brigette explained. “A bad lie almost always hurts someone. A good lie is an excuse and keeps a loved one from becoming hurt or angry. In other words, a bad lie causes pain, but a good lie prevents it."
“I ken,” Glenda said. “When Moireach asks if I've eaten all of my porridge, I must say yes, even if I've given it to Sly. The real truth would make Moireach angry, and we dinna want that to happen."
“Correct.” Brigette hugged her. “The choice is yours. Shall we travel the long road or the short road inside?"
Glenda smiled. “The long road."
Followed by Sly, Brigette and Glenda walked hand in hand around the keep. The earl stood in the front courtyard to greet Iain and Percy, who were dismounting.
“How did it go?” Black Jack asked his eldest. Iain started to reply but caught sight of his wife. Smiling, he watched her advance on them.
“Keep yer mind on business, damn it,” Black Jack swore, making his youngest son chuckle. “I asked ye how it went down?"
“Better than we'd hoped,” Iain told him. “We lifted aboot thirty head of Menzies’ cattle."
“That should be strainin’ the mon this winter,” Percy said.
“I'm doublin’ our own guards ‘til the first snow,” Iain added.
The earl smiled. “That's good news."
“No, Kevin,” sounded Moireach's irritated voice. “Get back to yer duties. Ye willna’ be botherin’ the laird wi’ such a triflin’ matter. Get back, I said!"
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