A Hellion at the Highland Court: A Rags to Riches Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 9)

by Celeste Barclay

  When a keep came into sight, Laurel slowed her mount, cautious for a moment. But she caught sight of a dark-haired man riding toward her, and while she couldn’t make out his face, she didn’t fear him. Just the opposite. She relaxed and grinned before kneeing Teine forward.

  “I thought you would wait for me, thistle,” Brodie said by way of greeting.

  “You snored so loudly. Who could sleep? But I feared I exhausted you last eve, so I thought to let you sleep,” Laurel grinned as they sat, alongside each other, atop prancing horses, facing one another. Brodie swooped in for a searing kiss that left Laurel breathless, but hungry for more.

  “Indeed you did. You ken I’m normally a light sleeper.”

  “Aye. But in truth, I was up with the bairn, so once he slept again, I slipped out. I hoped you would join me.” Laurel gazed at Brodie and noticed the gray hairs at his temples now wove through more of his chestnut mane, and his beard was more salt-and-pepper than it had been when they met. She glanced down at herself, noting her bust was larger than it had once been, and her belly was no longer flat. She looked at Brodie, a smile reflecting happiness that came only from living a life filled with love spread across her face.

  “Fear not, Laurie. I will join you, but it shall be in our bed. Ride back with me?” Brodie asked. Laurel sensed it wouldn’t anger him if she refused, but she wanted to return home with her husband.

  “Don’t you have duties to tend to?” Laurel asked.

  “There is always time to love my wife,” Brodie grinned.

  Twelve

  Laurel’s eyes fluttered open, but her mind was still groggy. She clung to the last moments of her dream, wishing she could fall back to sleep and see what would happen next. She rarely remembered her dreams, but this one had been so vivid that it felt more like a memory than the product of her imagination. She’d been somewhere she loved with someone she loved, and she sensed he reciprocated her feelings.

  As her vision cleared, and she opened her eyes wider, Laurel found Brodie watching her. Pushing up on her elbow, she looked around her chamber, but nothing was amiss except for the mountainous man in the chair beside her bed. She closed her eyes once more, but the memory that surfaced stole her breath. She placed her fist over her chest, pressing as though it could ease the knot that formed.

  “Laurie?” Brodie’s soft whisper brought her back to the present. When she looked at him again, he was leaning forward. Worry etched deeply into the grooves upon his forehead and around his eyes.

  “I’m all right,” Laurel rasped, but she doubted she ever would be. “How did I end up here? What are you doing in my chamber again?”

  “Do you remember me carrying you out of the Privy Council chamber?”

  “Sort of.”

  “You were asleep before I made it to the stairs, so I brought you here to rest.”

  Laurel spotted her shoes beside the bed, and her face heated. If Brodie had removed them, he likely noticed their tattered condition. She wondered if he’d noticed how many times her stockings had clearly been darned. “Why did you stay?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to awake alone. I didn’t want you to be by yourself when you remembered what happened,” Brodie explained.

  “You mean when I learned my father would rather I be a whore than pay another penny to keep a roof over my head or bread in my belly?” Laurel rolled over and sat up, bringing her knees under her chin. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her cheek on her knees as she looked at Brodie. She didn’t know what to say. She still felt numb. She was too far beyond hurt to feel pain, but she couldn’t drum up the energy to be angry because she wasn’t entirely surprised anymore.

  “Laurel, what do you want? Do you wish to remain here, so I can court you? My offer remains in place, both to give you time to decide how we proceed—if we do, and to ensure you have what you need while you are here. Do you wish to go to Kilchurn, whether it’s as my wife or a new villager?”

  “I don’t know, Brodie. My mind feels fuzzy when I try to think aboot it. What I do know is that I’m grateful for you. You could be on a horse halfway home after what you learned aboot my family and what you’ve learned aboot me. But rather than leave, you remained here,” Laurel looked around the chamber. “Beside me, so I wouldn’t wake alone. No one else would ever think to do that, to understand what it would have meant for me to be here by myself after what I heard.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Not without you unless you say otherwise,” Brodie promised. He moved to sit beside Laurel. His heavy arm wrapped around her caused her to topple against his chest. She sighed as she closed her eyes again. The sense of peace and security she felt in her dream swept over her as she leaned against Brodie.

  “Do you think that sometimes one part of our mind can know more than another?” Laurel asked.

  “Aye. I think parts of our mind can sense things or deduce them before the part that forms our thoughts does. It’s how men stay alive in battle when they have no reason to suspect an attack, but they move away in time. It’s how a bairn learns to walk and talk, I suppose. It’s how I know I don’t want to leave your side.”

  “I worry aboot what you will see if you sign a betrothal contract,” Laurel admitted.

  “Not if, when. And Laurel, quite honestly, I don’t give a shite what your father does or doesn’t offer. My clan doesn’t need your dowry, and any lands you might have are too far from Campbell territory to be of benefit. I can ensure I set aside dower lands for you and any daughters we might have. I can and will provide for you.”

  “You may say that, but your clan council likely will not agree,” Laurel countered.

  “As you said earlier, you bring the Ross name to our marriage. That will suffice.”

  “How can it? I bring naught else. No plates, no silver or gold, no linens. Naught.”

  “You don’t know that,” Brodie soothed. “And don’t you see? I want you, Laurel. I want you as you are and who you are. I don’t want what your father does or doesn’t offer.”

  “Are you this wise because you’re auld?” Laurel said playfully as she brushed her fingertips through a streak of graying hair.

  “Mayhap, but I’m not so auld that I won’t chase you around our chamber and into our bed,” Brodie said before kissing Laurel. Before the fire turned into an inferno, Brodie pulled away with a groan. “Waiting for you may very well be the death of me.”

  “Our?” Laurel asked timidly.

  “Yours and mine,” Brodie nodded.

  Laurel swallowed. “Would it have been yours and Eliza’s?”

  “Not anytime soon. Mayhap one day, but I honestly doubt it,” Brodie admitted. “I never thought of sharing my chamber with her or anyone else before you.”

  “Despite what the king relayed from my father, and despite my years here, I’ve never—I haven’t—I don’t know how…” Laurel stumbled over her words before shaking her head and twisting to bury her face against her bent legs. She was humiliated all over again. She squeaked when Brodie lifted her into his lap and leaned back against the headboard.

  “And I told the truth. It doesn’t matter to me if you have or you haven’t. But I know you’re a maiden.”

  “How can you possibly know? You haven’t touched me—there.”

  “It’s how you react to each of our kisses or when I touch you. It how you touch me. You’re tentative at first, but your natural courage and curiosity pushes through. You’re not a liar, so I don’t think you’re pretending,” Brodie answered. Laurel flinched, then winced.

  “Brodie, I have lied, and you know that. I’ve lied countless times since I’ve been here. White lies to flatter other ladies, nasty half-truths to be mean. Full-fledged lies to get what I need since I don’t receive pin money.”

  “Have you lied to me?” Brodie asked.

  “No. I—I could have. More than once, but I haven’t. I don’t want to.”

  “Do you think you will continue to lie if your circumstances changed?” Brodie
prodded.

  “Only if it protected you or someone I care aboot, if it kept our clan safe.”

  “Those are understandable reasons. Laurie, I don’t fear you lying to me. You enjoy telling me the blunt and painful truth far too much,” Brodie chuckled, and it rumbled against Laurel. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Are you comfortable?”

  “Immensely,” Laurel yawned.

  “Do wish to sleep more?” Brodie stroked her hair.

  “I’m tired, but no, I don’t want to sleep. I’d rather spend time with you,” Laurel admitted shyly. “Would you tell me more aboot your mother?”

  “Och, naught would make me happier than to stay here and tell you stories,” Brodie grinned. “My mother had hair as dark as a raven’s wing and eyes the color of the most aged whisky. She was a wee thing. Barely came to my chest by the time I was three-and-ten.”

  “I suspect you were not a wee lad at three-and-ten,” Laurel pointed out.

  “Mayhap not, but she could still skelp me even at the size I am now,” Brodie chortled. “When I was a wee bairn, she used to take me riding with her. I would sit before her on her gelding. I would beg her to go faster and faster. She indulged me to a point, reminding me that what I want and what I can do isn’t always the right thing to do. She refused to gallop with me, insisting she wouldn’t risk me falling. She reminded me that we might want to, and her horse could, but it wouldn’t be right. It was one of the most valuable lessons either of my parents taught me. But I loved those rides. She would laugh and make up stories aboot the fae she swore lived in the forest and our loch. She laughed a great deal back then.”

  “She sounds wonderful,” Laurel said wistfully.

  “She was. I wish she were alive for you to meet her. I think you would have found a kindred spirit,” Brodie mused.

  “Will you tell me more?”

  Brodie and Laurel settled onto her bed, lying beside one another as Brodie told her one story after another about his childhood. He told her aboot his cousin Kennan who married Laird Grant’s younger daughter. And Laurel mentioned she knew the laird’s other daughter Cairstine well, and that her friend Madeline recently married Fingal Grant, the laird’s heir. Brodie regaled her with tales of the mischief he and his younger brother Dominic got into when they were children. Laurel learned about Dominic and his wife, who awaited them at Kilchurn.

  As the afternoon progressed, they moved onto stories about Laurel’s childhood. Brodie was wary to ask, unsure of what he would learn. But he discovered Laurel had a happy childhood until her parents sent her to court. He understood why leaving her idyllic life had been so traumatic once he learned about how involved she’d been with her clan and even how close she and Monty had once been. The more Brodie learned about the life Laurel had, the more resolved he was to offer her what she missed. He knew she was no longer a child, and she couldn’t have all the whimsy and carefree days she’d once had, but he could offer her the respect that she’d earned among her people. And he could offer her the chance to be at peace with herself. It was late afternoon when they sighed in unison before smiling. They could no longer avoid returning to the Privy Council chamber if Brodie were to review and sign the betrothal contracts.

  Thirteen

  Laurel’s toes curled within her boots as she sat among the other ladies-in-waiting. She’d been refused entry into the Privy Council chamber when she arrived on Brodie’s arm. Brodie had insisted that the chamberlain permit her to enter, and the pugnacious man nearly wet himself when Brodie leaned so far forward that their noses nearly met. But it had done neither of them any good when the chamberlain let them pass. King Robert shook his head and dismissed Laurel, phrasing his order as a suggestion that she join the queen. Brodie only conceded after he insisted either Laurel remained or that he be allowed to accompany her to the queen’s solar.

  Brodie walked her to the door. When a guard pushed it open to a group of staring facing, Brodie kissed Laurel on the temple and gave her hand a squeeze. She’d squared her shoulders and took a step forward, but Brodie didn’t release her arm. She looked up at him, and he mouthed, “I’m proud of you. Be brave.” It was the infusion of courage Laurel needed to face the queen and her entourage. She’d crossed the chamber and found a seat in the center where she opened the book she’d been reading the day before. As the group tittered around her, she steeled herself for what would inevitably come. Her toes ached as she waited.

  “Lady Laurel,” Queen Elizabeth addressed her. Laurel rose and approached the older woman, dropping into a deep curtsy until she noticed the queen’s fingers flicked the signal for her to rise. “Please keep me company.”

  Laurel lowered herself onto the overstuffed pillow that laid beside the queen’s feet. Sitting there always reminded her of being a loyal hound. She understands that was precisely why the queen positioned as it was. It gave Queen Elizabeth a position of superiority, and it humbled whoever sat upon it. Laurel remained silent, awaiting whatever the queen would say about the scandal Laurel caused.

  Keeping her voice exceptionally low, Queen Elizabeth said, “While I wouldn’t have advocated making such a public declaration, I am gladdened to know your future is with Laird Campbell. He will be a good husband to you, Lady Laurel. The two of you are well matched. You will challenge him to no end, I’m sure, but he will not begrudge you it. In fact, I suspect he rather enjoys it. He might have spent his life with a quite different woman than you, and I don’t think it would have been a happy match.”

  “Do you mean Lady Eliza?” Laurel asked softly.

  “You know of her?” Queen Elizabeth asked in surprise.

  “Aye. Laird Campbell told me he’d exchanged vows with her, but she’d died before they made it a true marriage. He mentioned we were not much alike,” Laurel hedged.

  Queen Elizabeth snickered. “Not much alike indeed. She was a nice lass, but mousy. I doubt that would have changed, no matter how long she lived or how long she served as Lady Campbell. The alliance would have been advantageous to the Campbells, but I fear the laird was shortsighted in his choice. His clan will not live and die by access to Loch Sween. They may live and die by who stands beside their laird. They are a powerful clan, and they need a lady with the gumption to stand beside her husband and against those who would threaten the clan. There are many who would.”

  Laurel remained quiet, surprised to hear some of what Brodie shared with her being articulated by Queen Elizabeth. She wondered if the queen would say more, but when the conversation lulled, or rather the queen said nothing, Laurel wondered if she was dismissed. She didn’t dare stand, but she wasn’t certain what to do. She jumped when the queen spoke again.

  “Lady Laurel, I anticipate your life being even more trying over the next several days. But it was easy enough to read Laird Campbell’s lips and the look in his eyes. You won’t avoid the rumors or the scornful looks, but I believe Laird Campbell will do what he can to shield you. But if you would heed my council, you’d do well to curb your tongue.”

  “Aye, Your Grace,” Laurel replied.

  “I’m certain the ladies will goad you. But remember, in the end, you are the one Laird Campbell chose. They may have caught you in…a delicate moment, but anyone with eyes will see soon enough that it is not just lust that lies between you two. Bear that in mind when they test you.”

  Laurel looked up at the queen, shocked by the maternal and sage advice the older woman offered. Laurel recalled the queen had suffered great public scrutiny when she married King Robert, especially when she returned after eight years of imprisonment by the English King Edward Longshanks.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” With a nod, Queen Elizabeth dismissed Laurel, who stood then dipped into a low curtsy. As she made her way back to her stool and her book, she took in the faces that watched her suspiciously, those who gloated, and those who turned their noses up at her. She noticed Emelie and Blythe watching her, but neither woman had defended her that morning. Emelie had been less convinced than the others, but she�
��d hadn’t spoken on Laurel’s behalf. The sisters’ ease with which they turned from her hurt more than any rumor Sarah Anne or the others spread. She’d considered Emelie and Blythe her friends, and she’d defended them and their sister Isabella when people cast barbs at the younger women about Isa marrying a man who once served King Edward. With a sigh, she returned to her seat and returned to her book, but her attention wouldn’t settle on the words before her. Her mind conjured various scenarios that might be occurring in the Privy Council chamber as she pretended to read. Her belly ached as it clenched over and over. She practically threw the book aside when it was time for the ladies to dress for the evening meal.

  “You have made sure you will marry in haste.” Laurel disregarded Sarah Anne’s taunt, pretending to be set on her course to her chamber. But Sarah Anne refused to be ignored. “You had best pray Laird Campbell doesn’t delay having the banns read, lest you deliver an eight moon bairn.”

  Laurel ground her teeth, repeating the queen’s advice that she curb her tongue. Sarah Anne’s accusation that she might be pregnant made many of the ladies gasp, and Laurel heard a fresh wave of whispers follow in her wake.

  “Liam and Nelson will have their noses out of joint since they have lost their wager,” Margaret mused.

  “They have not. Laird Campbell must show up to his wedding. He might still run all the way back to the Highlands before he shackles himself to the Shrew of Stirling,” Sarah Anne corrected.

  “Do you think he would really jilt her?” Emelie asked.

  “Wouldn’t you?” Sarah Anne asked.

  “Lady Laurel,” Brodie’s masculine voice made the women jump. He stepped away from the wall against which he leaned just beside Laurel’s door. “I’ve come to escort you to the evening meal.”

  Laurel’s smile was tight as she nodded. “Thank you. I will only be a moment. My maid Ina should already have my gown ready.”

  “No need to hurry,” Brodie assured her, bringing her hand to his lips when she stopped in front of him.