As they rode away, Flanna glanced toward the family burial ground on the nearby hillside. Her father’s new grave was visible, and she said a silent prayer to herself as she rode away. A weak sun shone down on them as they traveled the miles between the Brodie enclave and Glenkirk. As they rode around Loch Brae, Flanna finally spoke.
“My husband hae given me Brae Castle to restore. One day I shall gie it to my second son. ’Tis Leslie custom to provide for all their sons.”
“Does yer husband nae hae two younger brothers?” Aulay asked.
“Aye. Their mam hae a great estate in Ireland. She divided it between her youngest lads and managed to get titles for them.”
“Then, yer mother-in-law is Irish?” Aulay continued.
“Nay. She comes from a land far, far away. Patrick says ’tis called India. Her da was a great king.”
“What would the daughter of a great king be doing married to a Scot and living at Glenkirk?” her second brother, Callum, demanded scornfully. “Who told ye such a tale?”
“My husband,” Flanna replied. “His family is verra unusual, brothers. His grandmam, the old Countess of BrocCairn, was told her husband was killed in a duel. Heartbroken, she went with an elder brother to India where her own mam and da were at the time. She was kidnapped and given to this great king to be his fortieth wife.”
“His fortieth wife?” her brother Simon exclaimed. “God hae mercy on the poor man, for one wife is more than enough for me!”
The others laughed at Simon’s outburst. “Yer husband is flummoxing ye wi’ such a tale,” Callum said.
“Nay, ’tis all true. Patrick says most of his grandfather’s wives were political marriages to seal treaties, or stop wars, though there were some he loved. He loved the lady Velvet. Patrick says he called her his English rose. Shortly after she had borne the king a daughter, word came from England that her husband, the Earl of BrocCairn, was nae dead. Her family wanted her returned. The king, an honorable man, sent her away, but he kept his wee bairn, who grew up to be the Duchess Jasmine.
“Her first husband was a prince. He was murdered by her brother, and as her da lay dying, the princess fled to England and her grandparents. She was made welcome. Her second husband, the Marquis of Westleigh, gie her three bairns. It was he who gained the great estate in Ireland for her from King James. He was murdered there, and she left it. She met Prince Henry Stuart at court, and he gie her a son. Then he died, and she vowed nae to wed again, for she believed that she brought misfortune to the men who loved her.”
They rode along, and Flanna’s brothers were now all captivated by the story she was telling them. The content of the tale was beyond anything that any of them could have ever imagined. Flanna went on to explain how King James had ordered the marriage between the Duke of Glenkirk, who was a widower, and the Marchioness of Westleigh, who was a widow. The king wanted to protect his little grandson, and he wanted the lad raised by a good man. The king trusted the Duke of Glenkirk as he trusted few others. He remembered what it had been like being raised by strangers, and he didn’t want his first grandchild to suffer the same fate that he had suffered.
“But,” Flanna told her now fascinated brothers, “the lady did nae want to wed again. She knew Glenkirk, and she liked him; but she dinna want to be told she must wed again. She gathered up her four bairns and went to France. It took Glenkirk two years to find her, but he finally did wi’ Madame Skye’s help.”
“Who is Madame Skye?” Aulay asked.
“The Lady Jasmine’s grandmam, and that’s another story altogether! I can hardly believe all that I hear about these women,” Flanna told her brothers. “That is why ’tis so important that I nae be a do-naught duchess. By helping the king, I would hae made my mark. But let me finish my tale. The lady Jasmine and Jemmie Leslie were wed. They hae three sons and two daughters. One daughter died as a bairn. The other one is now in France wi’ her mama. She is the youngest, and came into the world when the duchess thought she would hae nae more bairns. Patrick says they were all verra surprised when his sister, Lady Autumn, was born. And she was born in Ireland where they had gone to marry off one of his other sisters, and that, too, is another story. There seem to be a lot of fascinating histories at Glenkirk,” she finished, laughing.
“Well,” Una said, “I can see why ye’re so anxious, lassie, but perhaps Patrick Leslie is perfectly content to hae a wife who is nae running off and getting herself into mischief. He seemed a quiet man to me.”
“All the Leslie women hae been adventurous,” Flanna admitted. “He speaks of them lovingly, but ye may be right, Una. He also says his sisters were troublesome hoydens who fretted his parents greatly.”
“There, ye see!” Una crowed. “Yer man is a simple chieftain, for all his wealth and powerful titles. Ye can be the perfect wife to him if ye will put all this foolishness out of yer head. Ye’ll keep his home well and gie him a family of healthy bairns ye’ll nurture to become good men and women. When yer descendants look at yer portrait in the hall, Flanna, they will nae call ye the do-naught duchess. They will say of ye that the second duchess made her husband happier than any of the lords of Glenkirk who hae come before him. That he loved her wi’out ceasing and never wanted to be from her side.”
“Why, Una,” Flanna said, surprised by the older woman’s words. She had never suspected that her sister-in-law was so romantic.
“Well, ’tis surely a better history than to be known as the naïve duchess who went gallivanting about the Highlands seeking to raise cannon fodder for a disposed king who deserted Scotland when he regained what he hae lost,” Una said sharply. “Ye’ve got a good man, Flanna. Dinna drive him away by going against him. If Patrick Leslie believes that the king’s family brings him misfortune, then ye must respect his sentiments, even if ye think them foolish. That is what a good wife does. She praises her husband’s accomplishments, and she overlooks his errors in judgment—most of the time.”
“So, that’s how ye’ve managed to live so peaceably wi’ my brother all these years,” Flanna teased her sister-in-law.
Una reached out to swat the younger woman; but it was done with affection, and she was laughing.
They had left in mid-morning from Killiecairn, and by late afternoon the towers of Glenkirk came into view. Flanna felt a wave of pleasure at the sight of her home. In the months she had been wed to her husband, she had come to love Glenkirk. Fingal moved his horse up next to hers now and grinned at her.
“I’ll be glad to be back,” he said. “I’ve actually missed the Stuart bairns, even wee Willy, who howls all the time.”
“Ye behave yerself,” his mother warned him. “I’ll nae hae ye being sent home, Fingal Brodie. This is a great opportunity that has been given ye. I dinna want to lose ye to the New World like so many of the others will lose their bairns.”
“I like it here,” Fingal admitted to Una. “And I like the lessons we are given each day. Lady Sabrina studies wi’ her brother and me. The Leslies feel a lass should be as educated as any lad. Even Flanna has finally learned to read and to write.”
“Ye hae?” Una was astounded.
“I canna be the Duchess of Glenkirk and nae know how to read or write. I hae my duties. Angus taught me,” Flanna said.
“And what does he do besides teach ye?” Una asked curiously.
“Angus runs the household. When the Duchess Jasmine lived here, she hae a man who hae been her servant since her birth. ’Twas he who ran the household. But when she departed, he left wi’ her,” Flanna explained. “We hae a housekeeper, but the staff need a majordomo to guide them in their duties. They all like Angus. Did ye know he was my uncle? My mam’s brother, born on the wrong side of the blanket.”
“I knew,” Una said. “He’s fortunate his sister—and now his niece—loved him enough to include him in her life. And how does Aggie thrive?”
“She’s happy wi’ me here,” Flanna said. “And since there is nae a great deal to do for me, she helps wi’ the Stuart
bairns. They hae their own nursie who came wi’ them from England. She and Aggie get on verra well, and as she is old, she is glad for the help.”
As they neared Glenkirk, a rider came over the drawbridge toward them. Flanna moved her mount ahead and rode to meet her husband.
“Lachlann Brodie is dead?” Patrick said as they met on the road.
“Buried yesterday,” Flanna answered. “I hae brought my brothers and Aulay’s wife wi’ me. I knew they would be welcome.” She lowered her voice. “They were all dying of curiosity,” she admitted, smiling.
The duke nodded imperceptibly at his wife; then he stopped his horse and, smiling broadly, said, “The sons of Lachlann Brodie, and brothers of my wife, Flanna, are welcome to Glenkirk. And ye also, Mistress Una. Come, for ye hae had a long ride this day.” Then, turning about, he led them across the drawbridge and into the courtyard of Glenkirk.
They struggled not to gawk, but none of them had ever been in a castle. Glenkirk, while not large, was impressive with its four dark stone towers, and its heavy oaken doors, and its great iron portcullis. Their eyes widened at the many stablemen who hurried forth to take their mounts as they climbed down from their horses. Each of them dusted himself free of the road, suddenly very aware that they were about to enter a great house. They were startled by their younger sister’s air of ease with all of this. She spoke with gentle authority to the lad holding her horse as she dismounted it.
“Be certain that Glaise is well brushed and has an extra measure of oats tonight, Robbie,” she told him. Then, turning about, she smiled at her Brodie relations. “Welcome to Glenkirk, brothers. Welcome to Glenkirk, Una. Come, we’ll go into the hall.”
“I dinna know, Flanna.” Callum was suddenly reticent.
“Ye’ll surely stay at least one night,” she insisted softly. “ ’Tis too late to return today. Come!” And she led them from the courtyard.
Angus met them as they entered the castle. “Welcome back, my lady,” he said, bowing respectfully as he ushered them into the hall.
Servants seemed to appear from nowhere offering silver tankards of October ale to the weary travelers. The men took them up eagerly, if for no other reason than to calm their beating hearts as they looked about the Great Hall with its two massive fireplaces, its colorful banners that hung down from the carved rafters, and the two impressive portraits that hung over the fireplaces. Except for Aulay, they had never been in such a grand house in all of their lives and were not just a little intimidated by it all.
“I felt the same way the first time I entered this hall,” Flanna said quietly to them. Then she called to Angus. “See that sleeping places are prepared for my brothers and for Mistress Una,” she told him.
Angus Gordon bowed again. “At once, my lady,” he replied.
“And tell Cook we hae guests.”
He nodded.
Three children now ran into the hall crying Flanna’s name. She knelt and enfolded them into her embrace. “Ahh, here are our bairns,” she said. “Did ye miss me?”
“Did you bring us any gifties?” the little girl asked boldly.
“I went to bury my da, Brie. ’Twas nae a pleasure trip,” Flanna explained. “And here are my brothers come back wi’ me, and Una, of whom I hae told ye.” She arose. “Brothers, Una, may I present to ye the bairns of the not-so-royal Stuart. Lady Sabrina Stuart and her brothers, Lord Frederick and Lord William. Bairns, here is my brother Aulay, the laird of Killiecairn, and his good wife, Una; and my other five brothers, Callum, Gillies, Ranald, Simon, and Bhaltair.”
Sabrina curtsied politely as her brothers bowed. The sons of Lachlann Brodie bowed back, following Aulay’s lead as Una poked him and then curtsied to the three children.
“Well, now that the introductions are over,” Patrick Leslie said, realizing that his wife’s family was just slightly uncomfortable, “let us seat ourselves at the high board and wait for the meal to be served. Ye’re surely hungry after yer ride. The spring is still nae quite wi’ us, although I hae felt a slight warmth in the air these past few days. I’m glad for the longer days. The dark months are hard.” He brought his brothers-in-law to the table.
“When are ye going to tell him?” Una whispered to Flanna.
“Let me do it when we are alone tonight,” Flanna said. “I think such news, especially delivered to a man for the first time, should be told in private.”
Una chuckled. “Ye just want to couple wi’ him before he knows,” she said. “Ye like the bedsport, eh?”
“I do!” Flanna admitted.
“Then, ye’re a fortunate lass to hae a husband who is skilled wi’ his weapon, for there are many who are nae.”
“Wi’ all the bairns at Killiecairn, I would guess ’tis nae a complaint the Brodie wives are known to make,” Flanna returned pertly.
Una laughed aloud. “Nay, Flanna, it has always been their greatest talent, as yer own mam would hae attested. Do ye love him, or is it just the pleasures ye enjoy?”
“Nay, I believe that I love him, though he can be fearfully stubborn at times, Una. Still, so can I, so I would suspect we are both well matched in this marriage we made,” Flanna concluded.
“But ye’ll tell him,” Una persisted.
“He’ll come to the hall on the morrow wi’ a great smile on his handsome face, I promise ye,” Flanna told her sister-in-law. “What ye said on the road today made a great deal of sense to me. I hae been so concerned wi’ being like my predecessors that I forgot I am nae like them. Princesses, and sultan’s wives! I am a plain Highland lass. My strength surely lies in making Patrick and the bairns I bear him happy. If there is more, it will come when it comes.”
Una nodded. “Ye hae set my heart at ease, Flanna,” she said.
“When my mam died, ye took me to raise. We hae nae always seen eye to eye in the past, and we may nae see eye to eye in the future, Una, but ye hae always been a good example to me. I am nae so foolish that I dinna realize it.” Then Flanna hugged Una Brodie, even as she asked her, “Do ye think ’tis a lad or a lass I’ll bear?”
Chapter 13
He had taught her to mount him, and he loved it when she did. His big hands fondled her pretty breasts as she sat atop him, smiling. Buried deep inside her, his eyes closed, he allowed the pleasure to wash over him, filling him until he felt ready to explode with the pure enjoyment of it. He groaned as she tightened the muscles of her love sheath about his lance. “Ye’ll kill me yet, wench,” he told her, his voice thick with emotion.
“Ye like it,” she responded saucily, and she laughed.
“So do ye,” he shot back. Then he turned her swiftly onto her back so that it was now he who was dominant. His green-gold eyes glittered dangerously as he took her mouth in a burning kiss that sent her senses reeling with confusion. “Such a naughty vixen ye are, Flanna Leslie,” he said, moving deliberately on her now.
The rhythmic stroking of his manhood began to have the desired effect. She moaned a sound of distinct delight. “Oh, God, Patrick, that is so good. Dinna stop! Dinna ever stop!”
He laughed aloud. From the very first moment they had come together as man and wife, she had relished it. There had never been any doubt in his mind once he had taken her that first time that she was a virgin. He was the only man who had ever had her, but Flanna was a woman who naturally enjoyed her bedsport. He hadn’t ever had to coax her. Once introduced to passion’s pleasures, she had embraced them eagerly. And she still did. But so did he. He knew that no other woman would ever again satisfy him the way his beautiful wife did. And he would kill any man who even looked at her askance. His love for Flanna was totally irrational as he had discovered when he had found her with the young king. He couldn’t ever recall having been so murderously angry in his entire life, but he knew enough to conceal it in the royal presence, after he had sheathed his sword.
Flanna writhed beneath her husband as her enjoyment rose and rose to fill her entire being. “Aye!” she sobbed. “Aye! Aye!”
He fe
lt her beginning to reach her peak, and with a gasp of relief, he released his own lust into her welcoming body and then fell away from her as the satisfaction overwhelmed them both
Finally they came to themselves, and he drew her into his arms again. “I missed ye when ye were gone from me. I dinna like it when ye are gone from me, Flanna. Glenkirk is too empty.”
“Wi’ Charlie’s bairns running about?” she teased him.
“They will be gone from us one day,” he said.
“But we will hae our own bairns by then,” she told him.
He sighed deeply.
“In August,” she told him. “Ten months after our wedding, which should even be soon enough for my family, God help us!”
His arms tightened about her. “Ye’re having a bairn?”
“Aye,” she said.
“Why didna ye tell me sooner?” he demanded, sitting up and looking down at her. His gaze swept over her naked form. Her breasts had, indeed, grown lusher, and was that not a faint rounding of her belly?
“I dinna tell ye because I was nae certain at first. I hae never had a bairn, Patrick. My da saw it, and Una confirmed it for me. ’Tis she who hae convinced me nae to raise a levy for the king, but to hae yer bairns and be a good wife to ye,” Flanna told him honestly.
“Ye went to Killiecairn to raise a levy?” His tone was angry.
“I went to Killiecairn to be wi’ my dying sire,” she responded. “But, aye, after we buried him, I tried to arouse my kin to arms, and I intended going to Huntley next to speak wi’ the Gordons, for they are my kin through my mother’s family. The Brodies mocked me, and my brothers threatened me for endangering my marriage to a good man.”
His look was now stony. “Yer brothers hae more sense than ye do,” he said angrily.
“I gave my word to the king, and now I must plead my belly in order to break it,” Flanna said, her tone suddenly cold.
“Do ye really believe the king thought ye could raise a regiment for him?” Patrick asked her scornfully.
“Whether he did or nae,” Flanna responded, “he made me believe I could. Ye all tell me that he has charm, and that is surely so. Yer view of the king is skewed by yer mother and the fact that yer da died at Dunbar. I know only the man I met in Perth. A trifler of hearts, perhaps, but an anointed king nonetheless. Mayhap I hae stars in my eyes, Patrick, but it hae never been said of Flanna Leslie that she was a fool. I am told I am naïve, and maybe I am, if ’tis naïve to believe in yer king.”
Just Beyond Tomorrow Page 25