Just Beyond Tomorrow

by Bertrice Small

  The late Earl of Brae had educated his only son, and Angus had even spent two years at the university in Aberdeen. He had never thought to use his education again, but now he could see he was going to have to recall all he had been taught if he was to save his niece from eventual disaster. Once the Duke of Glenkirk had gotten an heir on his wife—once her charms wore off and his eye strayed to other women, which it surely would—Flanna would need her wits to survive. A man could only be held so long by a lush body.

  Chapter 5

  Flanna looked about the bedchamber that was now hers. It was the most beautiful room she had ever seen, and she wasn’t certain she would ever be comfortable in it. Everything was so elegant, so rich. The walls were panels of warm golden wood. Every other panel had a colorful floral design upon it. The alternating panels were plain but for an edging of design. The ceiling was painted. Flanna had never seen such a ceiling as the one above her. It looked like a sky on one of those perfect September days, blue and filled with bright white clouds edged in apricot and pale gold. Little winged babies, voluptuous women, and beautiful men, some with their nakedness discreetly draped with diaphanous lengths of fabric, and others plainly nude, floated in that ceilinged sky. It was all quite amazing to her eye, and she blushed at the sensuousness of it. She hadn’t seen this room earlier when old Mary had brought them upstairs. She had been too busy gawking at the equally magnificent dayroom that she would share with her husband, whose bedroom was next to hers, connected by a small door in the paneled wall.

  Her eye now carefully scanned the furnishings in the room. The great oak bed had an eight-foot, linenfold paneled headboard. The pillars holding up the canopy were turned and carved with vines and leaves. Even the heavy wooden canopy was carved to match. Looking up, Flanna saw the inside of it was also painted, divided into panels with small designs of stars, moons, flowers, birds, and small animals. The bed was hung with wine-colored velvet and had a wine-and-gold coverlet.

  The bed, the chests, the tables, and the chairs were all of warm golden oak. The chairs had rose-and-gold-tapestried backs and seats. Tall stone greyhounds flanked the large fireplace. There was a polished wooden clock upon the stone mantelpiece that chimed the hour. Upon the burnished wood floors were the most marvelous and colorful woolen coverings Flanna had ever seen. Turkey carpets, Mary had said, when they had been in the dayroom. There were silver candlesticks with beeswax tapers, and crystal and silver lamps burning scented oils, for light. The windows were hung with the same velvet wine-colored draperies as the bed. Flanna was openmouthed with wonder at the beauty of the room.

  “There’s even a special chamber for yer clothing,” Aggie said, equally awed, “and lady, a wee room for me, Mary says. She showed it to me, lady. I never had a place all to myself. This is a verra grand house.”

  “Perhaps too grand for me,” Flanna said nervously. “Who lived in these rooms before me? I wonder.”

  “Mary says these hae always been the apartments of the master and the mistress of the castle. The duke’s mother and father once inhabited these rooms, lady. And before them, his grandparents. Mary says the lady Jasmine was a verra fine lady, and that ye would nae know she came from a wild, foreign place. Mary says ye knew right away that she was of royal blood, and her servants were stately, especially Master Adali. Mary says the castle will nae be the same again now that she’s gone.”

  “Mary says a great deal, although she is probably correct,” Flanna noted dryly. “She will, I fear, hae to get used to a plain new mistress, and that mistress is me. I am nae royal, and ye are certainly nae stately, although Angus might be called so because of his great height. Now help me get ready for bed, Aggie. I am tired, and ye must be, too. We had a long day. Where is my husband?”

  “I dinna know, lady. He was in the hall when we left it. I imagine he is still there, or in his own chamber. Shall I find Donal and ask him, lady?”

  “Nay, nae yet. I want a bath. There was nae time before the meal. Go to Angus and see to it now, Aggie. The duke does nae sleep here, does he?

  “His chamber is next to yers, lady,” Aggie replied. “ ’Tis like that in fine houses, Mary says. Lord bless me, lady, we hae much to learn in, and about, this new place.” Then she hurried off to find Angus.

  Why had she asked Aggie such a foolish question? Had Mary not told them earlier that her husband had his own bedchamber? Flanna began to pace. She was tired. Worse, she was beginning to realize that her father, in his eagerness to catch her a fine husband, had not even begun to consider the consequences of a simple Highland Brodie marrying a duke. Did the old man even know? Probably not. He had never been farther than five miles from Killiecairn in his whole life but for two journeys to the summer games. All of Killiecairn could have fit into the Great Hall of Glenkirk. Her situation was impossible. A husband who didn’t want her, and a castle she hadn’t the faintest idea of how to manage.

  There was a knock upon her chamber door, and she called out, “Come in.” When she saw it was Angus, Flanna actually began to cry. “What am I to do?” she wailed, and he knew immediately what she was thinking.

  “Cease yer greeting, my lady,” he told her quietly, closing the door behind him. “I know how to govern a castle staff. Was I nae raised at Brae? All my instructions will appear to hae come from ye. Ye hae but to watch and learn from me, my lady. Ye must also master how to write more than just yer name, and know how to read. Yer mam could do both. I know ye hae nae patience for it, but ye must learn.”

  “I dinna want him to know how ignorant I am,” she agreed nervously.

  “I will teach ye myself,” Angus reassured her. “Did nae yer grandfather educate me, though to what purpose I dinna know until now, my lady. Dinna fear. The winter is setting in, and few if any will come to Glenkirk. There is a library here, and once ye hae mastered the pursuit of reading, ye can begin to educate yerself. His mother, and those before her, were well-read women. There is nae shame in yer nae knowing foreign tongues, for yer naught but a Highland lassie; and few, if any, with whom ye will associate will speak in any tongue but our own. However, ye must learn how to speak proper English, lass, and reading and writing ye must know. There may be times when the duke must be away. He will correspond wi’ ye, and ye wi’ him. We will begin tomorrow, my lady.”

  Flanna sniffled and nodded. “Oh, Angus! What would I do wi’out ye? Ye hae always been there for me, uncle.”

  He gave her a quick hug, then set her back. “Hush, my lady. We dinna know how yer husband would feel about a Gordon bastard taking over the management of his household.”

  “He thinks little harm in bastards,” Flanna replied, and then she told Angus about her husband’s half brother, the Duke of Lundy.

  “Ah,” said Angus when she had finished, “but his brother is a prince’s son, and but for an accident of birth might hae been a king. Remember my mam was plain Jessie Forbes, daughter of Bride Forbes.”

  “Who was yer mam’s father, Angus?” Flanna asked him. “Did she ever know him? Why didna he wed wi’ yer grandmam?”

  “Aye, I know who he was, my lady. Like my own father, he was a nobleman. Old Fingal Forbes, my grandmam’s father, always said the Forbes lasses could nae refuse a handsome lad who asked nicely.” The big man chuckled. Then, changing the subject entirely, he said, “The water is being heated for yer bath and will be brought to ye shortly, my lady. His lordship says he will nae join ye tonight as he believes ye must be verra tired wi’ yer journey today.” Angus then bowed to her and withdrew from the chamber before Flanna might ask him any more questions.

  Was she disappointed or relieved? Flanna wondered to herself as Aggie reappeared with several young men who lugged a large oaken tub into her chamber. She watched silently as the tub was filled. When the young men had gone, Aggie fussed at her to hurry and remove her garments. Flanna bathed herself silently as the serving girl pulled several bricks from the fireplace where they had been heating and wrapped them in flannel. Then she placed them in the big bed to w
arm it before helping her mistress to dry off, get into a nightgown, and into her bed. Finally Aggie hurried off, bidding her lady good night, but obviously very eager to gain the luxury of her own little chamber.

  “It even hae its own wee window, lady,” she had told Flanna before leaving her, “and a chest for my things!”

  Flanna smiled in the dimness of her chamber. Aggie had little but a change of clothing and a pearwood comb for her nut brown hair. She was as lacking in material possessions as was her mistress, Flanna thought with a small chuckle. She snuggled down into her bed, enjoying the first real warmth she had felt all day. The soft light from the fireplace gave the room a faint golden glow. She felt more confident now than she had earlier felt, for she had complete confidence in Angus to help her overcome the deficiencies in her education and manners. Her uncle, for all his apparent lesser status, had been raised a gentleman.

  Her thoughts moved on to her husband. She was sorry now that he was not joining her in her bed. She was quite revived after her bath and had enjoyed their coupling last night. If she was to give him an heir quickly, she could not allow him to avoid his husbandry duties again; but perhaps it was he who had really been tired after their daylong trek through the wet weather. He was, after all, some years her senior. Flanna rolled onto her side, pulling her legs up and curling about one of her pillows. This was a good place, and she would survive the challenges before her. She slept.

  The snow had ceased by morning, having left at least half a foot of the cold, white stuff upon the ground. By the time Flanna entered the small family hall of the castle, she learned that her husband had gone out again with his huntsmen and would be gone for several days. The castle would need more than one deer to get it through the winter months. The cold larder, she learned as she made her first tour of inspection with Angus, could hang at least six fully dressed deer, and now there was but one. However, there was an abundance of game birds and wild foul hanging in neat rows.

  “I would hae liked to hae gone wi’ them,” Flanna complained. “I’m as good a hunter as any man is. When did they leave? Mayhap I can catch up wi’ them! Their tracks will be plain in the snow.”

  “Wi’ the duke gone,” Angus said quietly, “’twould be an excellent time for ye to begin yer lessons, my lady. I hae set up yer schoolroom in the duke’s library. I will meet ye there shortly.”

  “But I want to go hunting!” Flanna protested to him.

  “If ye wish, my lady, but what happens when yer husband learns how ignorant ye are? Ye hae nae really engaged his attention yet. A bridegroom who beds his bride on their wedding night, but nae the next, and then goes off hunting for several days?” Angus shook his big head very disapprovingly. “Tsk, tsk,” he murmured.

  “He wed me for the land,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Aye,” Angus agreed. “But now he hae the land, and ye don’t. He’ll need a good reason to keep ye around, and he doesna seem to hae that reason right now, my lady. Ye need a bairn or two.”

  “I’ll hae them!” Flanna said fiercely.

  “Nae if ye canna get him back in yer bed,” her uncle said with perfect logic. “What is there about ye, Flanna lass, to interest and intrigue yer husband? Of course a man doesna want a wife far wiser than he, but he does enjoy one who can speak wi’ him after the coupling. What will ye talk of to yer husband? Hunting? Housekeeping? What will ye say to him that will fascinate him and make him fall in love wi’ ye, for, lassie, ye will find wi’out love the coupling will nae gie ye the pleasure it can wi’ love. Lust is a grand emotion, but love is a better one. Shall I hae yer mare saddled, my lady?”

  She was silent a moment. Finally she replied, “I will await ye in the duke’s library, Angus.” Then, with a swish of her skirts, she left him. His words had very much disturbed her.

  Angus Gordon smiled as he watched her hurry off. His niece was an intelligent lass, although she didn’t know how intelligent yet. He suspected she would learn quickly, and he was not disappointed in his judgment. Within two days Flanna had mastered the alphabet and was putting together small words, taking down books from the shelves and reading those words aloud, then copying them with a careful hand. To her uncle’s surprise, the new Duchess of Glenkirk was also proficient in simple arithmetic.

  “Mama taught me. She said I should know how to calculate so the merchants could nae cheat me. Sometimes I helped Una wi’ her figures. Ye know how tight my father is wi’ a merk,” Flanna said.

  “Aye,” Angus replied, pleased his half sister had done something useful for her child.

  The duke and his men returned five days later, bringing with them four fine deer to be dressed and hung in the cold larder of the castle’s kitchens. Flanna was, by now, fairly familiar with the castle, having spent the time she was not at her lessons in the library exploring her new home with her uncle, the indomitable old Mary, and Aggie. She found the west tower, which had once been the domain of the lady whose picture hung over the fireplace, most interesting.

  “Lady Jasmine’s old grandmother used to stay there,” Mary informed them. “The west tower were deserted for years until she began to visit. She liked it. Said it felt just right. She be dead and gone many years now, old Lady de Marisco. Killed a man, they say, and saved Lady Jasmine’s life when she was an old woman.”

  “Here?” Flanna was fascinated.

  “Nay, down in England at her home that now belongs to the Duke of Lundy,” Mary said.

  What kind of a family had she been married into? Flanna wondered. A mother-in-law who was a princess. A brother-in-law who was a royal bastard. So many lords and ladies if old Mary was to be believed, not to mention a murderess! “What happened to her?”

  “Why, naught, my lady,” Mary replied. “Lady de Marisco killed a wanted criminal who had already murdered four people. She was a verra braw old woman, God rest her!”

  And now her husband was returned, Flanna decided, she must learn more about his family. She noted Patrick Leslie’s look of approval as he strode into the Great Hall to see the furniture polished and the floors free of dust. The chimneys had been cleaned and burned smoke-free. The windows were shining. There were bowls of potpourri.

  “Welcome home, my lord. Ye were successful, I believe, and we hae meat enough for the winter.” She handed him a goblet of wine, then curtsied.

  “Four stags, madame,” he replied, and drank down his wine. “The weather is turning again, and so we must remain indoors; but I intend going out again as soon as we can. ’Twill be rain this time; but the snows will come again soon, and winter will set in. I hope to find at least one other deer and perhaps a wild boar for the larder.”

  “Ye will want a bath, of course,” Flanna said. “I hae prepared it for ye.” To his surprise, she took his hand and led him upstairs to their apartments. “Donal,” she spoke to the duke’s manservant, “take his lordship’s clothing. The shirt, drawers, and stockings should go to the laundress. I will bathe my husband. Tell Angus we will eat in our dayroom this evening.” She smiled, and Donal was dismissed.

  Taking his master’s garments, he hurried out.

  Bemused, Patrick climbed into his tub. The water was hot, and as it pierced his flesh, he realized how sore his muscles were from several days of riding, the cold, and the dank weather. “Madame,” he said to her, his green-gold eyes closing with enjoyment, “ye are proving to be the perfect wife. The hall was a joy to my eye, and now a bath.”

  “If ye’re pleased, then I am content,” she replied modestly.

  He laughed. “How meek and mild ye hae become, lass,” he teased.

  “I can scarcely argue wi’ ye if ye are satisfied wi’ my conduct, my lord husband,” Flanna answered him tartly. She took up a boar’s bristle brush and, soaping it, began to brush his back and shoulders as she knelt upon the wooden steps of the tub. The brush moved swiftly and with purpose over the broad expanse of skin. Lifting an arm, she scoured it thoroughly. Then she did the other. Moving the steps about so that she faced
him, she took up a foot and leg, washed it, then did its mate.

  She had taken off her skirts when Donal had left the chamber, and now bathed him in her petticoats and blouse. It was the same skirt she had worn the day after their marriage. He realized suddenly that Flanna probably had few clothes, and certainly none that suited her station as his wife. He had been so intent upon making certain there was enough meat in the larder for the winter months, he had given no thought to this young woman who was now his wife. He would remedy that as quickly as possible. Still, she was quite fetching, her red head bent in concentration as she bathed him. The laces on her blouse had come undone, revealing to his eye her round, ivory bosoms. A wicked smile touched his lips. It was simply too tempting.

  Flanna shrieked in surprise as he pulled her into the tub atop him. “Are ye mad, Patrick Leslie? Do ye think I hae clothing to spare that ye can make so free wi’ me!” She struggled against him.

  He ducked her blow, yanking the scrubbing brush from her hand, and kissed her mouth. She continued to struggle, pulling her head away from his, even as his hand slipped into her blouse to cup a breast. “Madame, ye canna show me yer wares and nae expect me to buy,” he murmured in her ear, and then his tongue swept about the whorl of it.

  “Ohhh, ye’re a villain,” she protested faintly. She bent her head, and her lips brushed over his softly. “Is this what they call loveplay, my lord?” Her silver-gray eyes were half closed and glittering as she settled herself facing him.

  “Aye,” he answered her, his tongue running over her lips. Removing his arm from about her supple waist, he slid his hand beneath her petticoats.

  “Ye’re wicked, ye are,” she half whispered, but she shifted her position even as she spoke to facilitate the roving hand.

  “Ye’re a shameless hussy, madame,” he said. “I knew it from the first when ye attacked me, but then, I am a man who likes shameless hussies, Flanna.” His fingers teased at her nether lips, twining themselves amid the luxuriant curls adorning her Venus mons.