The Enchantress

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The Enchantress Page 25

by May McGoldrick


  With Miriam still in his arms, he strode purposefully across the Hall to his wife.

  Her cheeks blushed with the prettiest of pinks, and her eyes widened as she read the look in his eyes. One hand rose involuntarily to her breast.

  “William!” Gilbert called as he drew near. “‘Glad you found time to return. There is so much that I need to go over with--”

  “Wyntoun!” He gestured toward Gilbert. “Take this prattling, overgrown acolyte away. I need a moment alone with my wife.”

  “That is ‘provost,’ if you don’t mind.”

  “Aye,” William said with a grin. “‘Prattling provost’ does have a better ring to it.”

  “Willie, you blasphemous cur...”

  “Miriam,” the laird continued on, winking at the child and putting her down, “could you please help Sir Wyntoun entertain your uncle for a while? Maybe you can practice some of your whining with him.”

  “Here to serve you, m’lord.”

  The child’s mock-serious reply elicited a laugh all around, but William’s eyes were already on Laura.

  “Have you been waiting forever as well?”

  She bit her bottom lip and then gave a small nod.

  He moved closer and took her arm, leading her to the great open hearth. There he turned to face her, blocking the room and everyone in it from her view.

  “Did you miss me?”

  Her blush turned a deeper red, her gaze flitting away, but a pretty smile broke out on her lips. “Everyone has been awaiting your return. I believe they are impatient for their supper.”

  “They can all starve, for all I care.” He took hold of her chin and lifted it. “But did you miss me?”

  “I did,” she softly whispered.

  “Then show me.”

  Her eyes rounded. “Here?”

  “Here!”

  She paused. She bit her lip. She swallowed and then looked slowly up until her deep violet eyes were staring into his.

  “You are a rogue, William Ross. You know I missed you.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and, raising herself onto her tiptoes, she brushed her lips against his own.

  William took full advantage of the moment, wrapping an arm around her waist, drawing her up, and kissing her thoroughly. It was some time before he pulled back, and a satisfied smile broke on his lips at the way her eyes remained glazed for a moment after he’d broken off the kiss.

  “I missed you, too.” He placed a soft kiss beneath her ear and took her hand in his own. Turning toward the Hall, he found every eye in the place on them. Instantly, a cheer rang out among the gathered throng, the pipers tuned up, and a noisy celebration began.

  “Well, it appears they are not too angry with us for delaying their supper.”

  Her voice was little more than a murmur in his ear. “You scoundrel, I’m embarrassed enough to faint.”

  He brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the tips of her fingers.

  “Not yet.” He grinned at her. “I’ll have no swooning until we’re alone. That way, I’ll have free rein to do whatever I wish with my defenseless wife.”

  “William!” she scolded with a coy smile that made him laugh out loud.

  The woman was precious, he thought. He was certainly the most fortunate man in the Highlands. Nay, in the world.

  Laura sat on one side of him and Miriam on the other during the dinner. Course after course of meats and fowl and fish appeared, each a triumph for the new cook. Toast after toast was offered up for the laird and his new bride, and the merriment continued unabated for hours.

  Finally, as William laid his cup on the table, Laura smiled at the little girl beside him and suggested that perhaps it was time for wee ones to be in bed. But the people of Clan Ross had other ideas.

  With a flourish Edward stood up, waving his arm and shouting over the revelry. As the noise subsided, the huge warrior turned and asked the laird and his bride to remain where they were sitting for a few moments of entertainment.

  Laura sent him a questioning look and then gave a hesitant nod while William smiled broadly. Under the table, the laird reached over and took his wife’s hand in his own. She smiled up at him, and his heart swelled.

  The tables that had been lined up in the center of the Hall were pulled back to create an open area before the dais. Everyone but those who were a part of the entertainment moved back, crowding the benches around the large open square.

  Edward moved to the end of the dais to present the “argument” and to provide a running commentary.

  He introduced the first of the actors.

  “Enter, Mistress Laura Percy!”

  Peter, the giant, red-haired bruiser of a man, entered from the kitchen door, dressed in a woman’s black dress that barely reached his knees and was stretched at every seam. The crowd broke out with boisterous laughter as Peter stepped toward the dais and raised his brows suggestively at his laird before moving to his place in the square.

  “Enter, William of Blackfearn, laird of Ross!”

  The laughter and shouts continued as Peter’s Wife, tiny and pixie-faced, swaggered into the Great Hall, dressed in a Ross kilt that dragged upon the floor.

  Miriam was tugging on William’s sleeve. “I asked her today why she has no name of her own and is always called Peter’s Wife.”

  William glanced over at the little girl. “Did you, lassie?”

  The child nodded excitedly. “Her given name is Eglantine, the same as the four sisters who were born but died before her. She said she thought ‘twas a curse for sure not to have a saint’s name, so she changed it as soon as she married to Peter’s Wife.”

  William knew the story, but still looked interested as Miriam continued on. “I believe I would like to change my name as well.”

  Just then Peter’s Wife, tripping over the long kilt, fell forward to the floor and Peter, with his fists planted at his hips, cocked an eyebrow at the prostrate woman, causing another wave of laughter to roll through the Hall.

  “I like your name,” William whispered back to Miriam, “just as it is.”

  “You do?” The child’s bright smile told the laird that she would keep her name...for what was left of the evening, at least.

  To the sound of the boos and cheers of the spectators, the rest of the actors filled the stage. William had to laugh when he saw that his people had even convinced Wyntoun to take a part.

  Edward raised his hands in the air, and silence crept over the hall. Laura tightened her grip on his hand.

  The chief warrior’s voice boomed out. “An ordinary day in Blackfearn Castle’s Great Hall.”

  The people started moving around the stage. There were mock arguments between crofters roaming about. Warriors stretched out on benches. Food on trenchers, tasted by the players, was promptly spat out before being dumped on the floor. Gilbert’s dog Willie lumbered past the mess, sniffed it without eating, and then stretched out in the center of the square.

  “The laird joins his people.”

  Peter’s Wife, pulling up her kilt so she wouldn’t trip over it again, marched into the center. Planting one hand on the hilt of the huge wooden sword strapped to her waist, she walked to the crofters, mumbling something and getting smiles and pats on the back. Then she walked to the warriors, again receiving encouraging nods. Then back to the crofters, and back again to warriors. On the last trip, the ‘laird’ tried to pick up some of the trash, to only trip and fall over the provost’s dog. Willie merely raised an ear. Laughter rang out again in the hall.

  “We could never accuse our laird of not trying, could we?”

  The response was in harmony and loud enough to shake the rafters. William felt Laura’s hand squeeze his own and turned to see her eyes watching him tenderly.

  “Mistress Laura arrives at Blackfearn Castle.”

  William’s and Laura’s eyes were drawn to the huge figure of Peter, hands planted on his hips, skirt hiked up on one side, as he walked menacingly into the circle. The whistling of
the men in the Hall was deafening, and Peter’s curtsy in response was actually quite good.

  “Mistress Laura takes charge.”

  "Laura" walked over to the "laird" and batted his eyes, before turning with exaggerated shock to the melange of food and men scattered about the stage. Dramatically raising a hand to his forehead, the "woman" shook his head with an air of severe disapproval. Not a moment was allowed to pass, however, before the gigantic "Laura" had rolled the sleeves of the dress up over a pair of brawny arms and pulled a wooden spoon out of the pocket of the dress.

  Walking around the stage, the warrior began pointing the spoon at everyone standing around and even raising a pantomimed argument with the onlooking "laird."

  The silent wrangling went on for a moment, only to stop abruptly when Peter puckered his lips and noisily kissed his tiny adversary.

  William cast a side glance at Laura and found her ready to crawl under the dais.

  Pushing aside the "laird," Peter then rushed out into the audience of clan folk and dragged Symon out by the ear into the square. Bringing the man to the center of the action, "Laura" began pointing with his spoon at the people, at the floor, at the roof, and even at the "laird." Symon nodded with every thrust of the spoon.

  "Laura" then moved again to his "laird," earning whistles and shouts when he again batted his lashes suggestively before going back to the perimeter of onlookers. This time, Chonny was ushered roughly out into the stage. The same gestures as before were repeated as this time Chonny, too, nodded dramatically with every thrust of the spoon.

  “Guests arrive at Blackfearn Castle.”

  Sir Wyntoun, playing himself, walked into the center. Peter, spotting the giant Highlander, moved over and batted his lashes. Peter’s Wife, pulling the wooden sword out of her kilt, faced the new visitor with a fierce scowl. The two mismatched "foes" started to fight. As the "furious" blows fell, with Wyntoun pretending to take the worst of the action from the little woman, the entire hall burst into renewed laughter. Suddenly, the "laird" tripped on her sword and fell to the ground as exaggerated cries of concern rang out from the onlookers.

  Edward’s voice boomed out again over the crowd. “Mistress Laura saves the Ross.”

  None of the earlier noise even came close to the cheers that shook the hall at the sight of Peter thrusting a giant spoon against Sir Wyntoun’s buttocks.

  William turned to Laura and found her face bright red. She tried to cover it with her hands. He reached over and took a hold of her chin, lifting it until her violet blue eyes met his.

  “I believe, m’lady, we should watch the ending.”

  Loud cheers resonated off the rafters as Peter’s Wife rose swiftly to her feet and, taking Peter by the hand, rushed his "lady" to stand before the provost. Gilbert made the sign of the cross in the air, blessing their union.

  The happy couple turned around as the spectators all pushed forward, calling, applauding, and cheering...not the actors but the new husband and wife sitting at the dais.

  William held Laura's hand and pulled her to her feet.

  “Thank you, m’lady,” Edward called out over the din of the crowd. “Thank you for saving our laird from himself.”

  CHAPTER 23

  The good-natured mumming of the play and the warm acceptance of Clan Ross as all approached the dais to congratulate the newlyweds moved Laura considerably. But soon after, little Miriam began rubbing her eyes and put her head down on the table.

  Making a quiet apology all around as pipers and dancers moved into the center of the Hall, Laura rose to take Miriam to bed. To her surprise, William got to his feet as well, and picked up the sleepy child, laying her head on his shoulder.

  Going up the winding set of stairs leading to east wing, occasionally Laura felt the brush of her husband’s arm against her shoulder. Each time she felt a thrill race through her of what the night would bring. Though this would not be their first night in each other’s arms, though they’d both felt the power of each other’s passion, anticipation still dominated Laura's being, filling her with wave after wave of molten, pulsing heat.

  At the top of the stairs, Laura smiled into the blue eyes peering over William’s shoulder. The little girl was much more awake now than she’d been in the Great Hall. Suddenly, Miriam straightened herself in the laird’s arms.

  “Wait.”

  “What is it?” Laura asked.

  “Do you think Uncle Gilbert’s dog might be ready for bed as well?”

  “I did not think to ask him,” William answered gently. “Though, considering all the attention that beast got tonight, taking center stage in the play, I’d say he might already be sound asleep.”

  “Then would it not be better for him to come to my room to sleep? I mean, ‘tis so loud in the Hall and--and--”

  The child’s worried tone concerned Laura. She knew Miriam liked the giant dog. She’d seen the two together in the Great Hall. But right now she seemed genuinely distressed. They reached Miriam’s door.

  “Perhaps I should go down and see if I can manage to bring Willie up,” Laura offered, turning to go.

  William shook his head, detaining her. “Nay, lass, ‘twill be far too crowded.”

  Miriam’s head snapped around and her blue eyes stared into his. “Too crowded?”

  There was a small scratch on the inside of the door. William winked at Laura and pushed open the door.

  Laura and Miriam both gasped with delighted surprise. Inside the bedchamber, two canine fur balls fought each other to climb up the kilted leg of the Ross. William lowered the child to the floor, and Miriam immediately sat, allowing the dogs to climb all over her. The child’s squeals of happiness echoed throughout the wing.

  “Are they mine? Mine to keep?”

  “Aye, lassie. Yours to keep.”

  Laura stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. The absolute contentment reflected in Miriam’s face, the loving eyes that moved up and looked into William’s face, were a sight to behold. Laura bit her lip to fight back the happy tears that were welling in her own eyes.

  Miriam jumped to her feet and ran to William, throwing her arms around him as the puppies swarmed around the two of them. “I love you, Uncle.”

  Laura watched with surprise as a look of sadness crept into her husband’s eyes. Something in her ached as she watched a memory cast its shadow over this joyous moment. As much as it was a torment to her, as much as she hated the reason for it, she could understand his pain. The sense of loss that he must be feeling was clearly visible.

  The love he still carried in his heart for the dead Mildred was still too great. The anguished memory of this child’s mother was still too fresh. This child was Thomas’s, but she was not his own.

  Visibly forcing the sadness from his face, he dropped down to his knees and returned Miriam’s embrace. “Do you think you can handle the two of them?”

  The little girl’s head bobbed up and down.

  “I’ve already talked to the lad Robbie. He’ll help you with them.”

  The child nodded again in agreement and, sitting again on the floor, opened her arms to the pups, who immediately leaped into her lap, nipping and licking at her chin.

  Miriam giggled. “They’re so beautiful. So perfect. This one looks like a wee bear.”

  “And they’re brave, too,” William added, exchanging a meaningful look with Miriam. “They will be sure to protect you against both man and beast.”

  “And bad dreams?”

  “Aye.” William nodded reassuringly. “They’ll do an even better job of it than Willie.”

  Miriam stared at the dogs adoringly as Laura watched her husband. To think, so many days ago she had tried to tell him about Miriam’s needs--about how to welcome this child to Blackfearn Castle. But he had been a master of the art all along. The child was home.

  Laura gazed at him, knowing that he was the one who had cast the spell over her. She was helpless. Her heart belonged to him. Totally, entirely.

&n
bsp; His to keep.

  A soft knock at Laura’s back drew the puppies' attention, and the two fell over each other to get to the door first. Opening it, Laura found Maire holding a bowl of water in her hand and waiting to come in.

  The old woman smiled at the dogs before looking up and facing her. “I brought some water for the lassie’s beasts, and I thought, this being yer wedding night and all, I could be putting the wee one to bed.”

  Before Laura could find her voice, Miriam was at the door, pulling Maire's sleeve to bring her into the room. “Please, Aunt Laura? Maire and I have a secret--I mean, a task we need to be finishing.”

  Aunt Laura. She repeated the name in her head. How could she ever refuse anything asked by the affectionate blue-eyed imp looking up so imploringly into her face?

  Before giving her agreement, though, she looked at her husband and found him standing and ready to leave.

  “Well, I suppose since Maire is here and willing--”

  Laura wasn’t able to finish her words as Miriam’s arms wrapped around her waist. The child’s open display of love was a gift that Laura planned to treasure forever and ever. She placed a kiss on her hair and straightened, letting William guide her out of the room.

  In the hallway and with Miriam’s door closing behind them, Laura was pleasantly surprised when her husband pulled her into his arms and just held her. Her head was tucked under his chin, his hand splayed on her back, holding her to him. His warm breath caressed her hair, and they just stayed there for a few moments, silent and content.

  Laura understood his need. He needed a moment of quiet to think over everything that had happened in Miriam’s chamber. He needed a moment to come to grips with what had happened in his past and what he was facing in the future. But in spite of all this--in spite of all the emotions that Laura was certain excluded her--she was happy to be in his arms.

 

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