“Fine weather we’re having,” Brodie called out once the MacFarlanes were within earshot. When they drew close enough to lock eyes, he added, “A fine day to come and kiss and be friends.” Brodie laid his sword across his lap, looking as though he rested nonchalantly. But he fooled no one. He might not look like the aggressor, but he was prepared to fight.
“I understand my son will be kissing your boots several times,” Andrew Mòr grumbled. He glanced at Laurel and scowled. “And Lady Campbell’s.” The older man sent his son a withering glare. Andrew Óg wisely remained silent, his expression justly chastised but his body held proudly.
“Now you’ve come to reconcile,” Brodie surmised. “Are you prepared to fight?”
“Would I have ridden this far if I wasn’t?”
“Are you planning to remain until it’s done?”
“Will you feed us if we do?”
“No.” Brodie grinned at the banter between the other laird and him. He liked Andrew Mòr, and he tolerated Andrew Óg, but he rarely enjoyed them together. His knuckles were white as he gripped his sword and reins, glad to have something in each hand lest he rip Andrew Óg apart with his bare hands.
Andrew Mòr glanced at his son and scowled again. He nodded his head in Laurel’s direction. Andrew Óg nudged his horse forward, but Laurel didn’t move. She wasn’t sure if Brodie trusted them, and she most definitely didn’t trust the younger Andrew. Her gaze was riveted on him, watching for any signal that he might attack.
“Lady Campbell, I did you grievous harm for which you have my humblest apologies.”
“But are you sorry?” Laurel asked without hesitation.
“Your pardon?” Andrew blinked at her.
“Apologies are all fine and good. I suppose you’d like praise for admitting you did something wrong. What I wish to know is if you’re actually remorseful. I doubt you are,” Laurel’s haughtiness harkened back to her days as the Shrew of Stirling. For that she felt no contrition. He’d been a party to men willing to kill her. “You showed you were without honor. You did naught to convince the others not to murder me. Are you sorry for that? Or can you only admit you did something wrong because your da made you?”
Laurel watched Brodie’s shoulders tense for a moment, but she still didn’t feel contrite. He would negotiate with the laird, but Laurel would deal with the perpetrator. She knew accusing Andrew of being dishonorable would have wound her up in a fight to the death if she were a man. After what she endured, she couldn’t resist taunting him. She trusted that Andrew Mòr was intelligent enough not to let his son take on Brodie in her stead.
“I never heard how much my death was worth. Twenty pounds? Thirty pounds? One hundred? How much did you lose because I’m still married?”
Andrew drew in a deep breath. “Two hundred and fifty pounds.” He exhaled with a puff.
“Hmm.” Laurel looked to contemplate what he said. “I’ll admit, seeing me dead is worth more than I expected. Or you just really wanted to be right. We shall see whether your father thinks I’m worth that two hundred and fifty pounds by the end of the tomorrow, shalln’t we?” Laurel turned her head away, dismissing Andrew as though he weren’t heir to a lairdship.
“As sharp as a thorn, and as hard-hearted as a Scot from Scotland,” Andrew Mòr said approvingly. “She might make a mon of you yet, Campbell.”
“Aye. That’s why I’m bent on keeping her at my side.”
“You’d rather her with you than against you.”
“Now you ken who to wager on. That’s if you’re daft enough to try.”
“I’ll leave that to my son.”
Laurel thought for a moment that she would accept his apology aloud to ease his obvious discomfort, but she knew it was a lie. And she thought a dose of public shaming would serve him well. He would be a laird one day. He needed some humility. So Laurel sat quietly, having said her piece.
Brodie enjoyed Laurel’s assertiveness and fought not to laugh. Not because the situation was humorous, but because Laurel was still one step ahead of most. But he was ready to end the chitchat and move the combined clans to Kilchurn. He needed to send riders to the other Campbell keeps and men to the River Orchy to scout the MacArthurs and MacGregors. He needed to know if his idea about the dam was feasible.
“Come. Your men can make camp outside my walls. I’m certain we can have chambers prepared for you both,” Brodie announced. He glanced at Laurel as he turned his horse.
“I shall even make certain there are fires in both hearths,” Laurel quipped before spurring her horse to follow the others. Brodie led the members from the three clans, Monty now riding to his right and Andrew Mòr on his left. Donnan rode alongside Laurel on one side while Graham rode on the other. She kept a lively conversation with both men when their pace allowed it. She found the last hour went quickly. But her stomach knotted when Kilchurn Castle came into view. Her new home and her new clan awaited.
Thirty-Two
Brodie signaled for the riders to rein in, pointing out to the MacFarlanes where they could pitch their camp. The Rosses were few enough that they would bunk in the barracks. Laurel wondered if she should remain where she was, even as the group largely dispersed. Brodie turned back to look at her.
“Laurie?”
Laurel nudged Teine on until she came to be side by side with Brodie. He wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her into his lap with a squeak. She was unprepared for him to capture her mouth in a kiss, but she surrendered immediately, eager for it just like him. As the kiss drew on, she sensed impatient horses swaying around them, their owners not much more pleased to be kept waiting. But she cared not. They’d defied death countless times in the past two days. She would savor this moment of love and security.
“I’ve waited all bluidy day to do that, thistle,” Brodie murmured against her lips.
“Mmm. I’m glad you didn’t make me wait anymore.”
“How do you wish to enter your new home? On your own horse or with me on mine?”
“What I wish and what I must do are, as usual, not the same. I wish to remain as we are. But I must enter on my own. I’m your wife and lady of this clan. The first impression I make will be hard to undo if I appear too dependent on you.”
“Sound reasoning. Or people will see I love my bride and can’t go without her one more moment,” Brodie countered.
“Compromise?”
“Such as?”
“Each on their own mount but holding hands.”
“Agreed.” Brodie proffered another kiss before setting Laurel back on her saddle. They rode through the village just beyond the wall, the bells tolling to signal the laird’s return. As people came out of their homes to wave, Brodie laced his fingers with Laurel’s. It wasn’t the easiest position, but Brodie understood the powerful signal it sent. They entered as equals, as partners. That was exactly how he viewed Laurel.
They rode into the bailey to cheers but confused expressions. Laurel realized people expected Brodie to return with Eliza beside him, not her. He hadn’t returned to Kilchurn before going to court. She glanced at Brodie and smiled at his sheepish expression.
“I shall have to explain,” he murmured.
Laurel watched a couple standing together on the stairs. Laurel assumed they were Brodie’s brother Dominic and his wife. The man resembled Brodie in most ways, but he didn’t carry himself with the same certainty and confidence Brodie possessed. It was clear he was a powerful warrior, but Laurel supposed Brodie’s demeanor came in part from being the laird, not the laird’s tánaiste. The woman who stood beside Dominic was pretty, but she looked wan. Her expression and posture were unassuming. Laurel wondered if she might make friends with her new sister-by-marriage. She would try.
“Once we’re inside, what would you have me do first?”
Brodie looked into Laurel’s eyes as they came to a stop. She never ceased to move him when she thought of others first. If only people had been compassionate from the start. They might have met the
Laurel who always lurked behind the shield she wielded. She was unselfish and dutiful. Once more he counted his blessings.
“Brodie? Do you have a housekeeper who will see to our guests? Do I need to attend to their chambers and baths? Will your sister-by-marriage do it?”
“Sorry, mo ghaol. You distract me in the best ways. Aggie will see to our guests, so you needn’t rush aboot a keep you don’t know. Colina never took an interest in the household. I suppose she always knew one day my wife would arrive and be chatelaine,” Brodie shrugged. He realized he’d barely thought of it in his brother’s three-year marriage. Once it was obvious Colina didn’t want the position, he ceased thinking about it, knowing he would have to marry to gain a lady to run his keep. The couple was too enamored with one another to pay attention to anyone else. They were a love-match.
“What would you have me do?” Laurel pressed.
“Stand beside me as we greet our people.”
Laurel appeared uncertain, but she nodded. She would follow Brodie’s lead. But she realized there was one thing more pressing than any other. “Do you have a healer?”
“Aye, Nora—or rather Honoria—is our healer. I’ll send for her. She can see to the men who need her. Thank you for thinking of it. Come, Laurie. Let me show you your home.” Brodie dismounted, then lifted Laurel from the saddle, easing her body along his until her feet were on the ground. “I regret I may be late to bed tonight. But I will be there.”
“And I shall be ready. Wake me. Promise?”
“Do not fear, Laurie. There will be little sleep for either of us.” Brodie pinched her backside before he took her hand. She reached across her arm and pinched him back. Brodie jumped, then laughed as he looked down at Laurel, who looked as innocent as a lamb. He walked them to the top of the steps outside the main door of the keep. They turned to look at those who’d assembled. “I am happy to be home.”
People cheered, and Laurel saw the sincerity in people’s excitement matched what she heard in Brodie’s voice. He squeezed her hand in reassurance before he released it and wrapped his arm around Laurel. He whispered, “It’s not just for show. Don’t doubt that.” Laurel had wondered that very thing.
“Stop reading my thoughts,” she teased. Brodie drew her against his side and looked out at his people again.
“You know I left to settle the alliance with the MacMillans and to bring home a wife. God had a different plan for me and for our clan.” Brodie paused as his gaze swept the assembled clan members. “Our party was attacked on our own land, and they killed Lady Eliza.” He waited for the buzz to settle, purposely evasive about the aggressors. “I have been away longer than intended for several reasons. I returned to the MacMillans to allow Lady Eliza to rest in peace. I continued on and arrived in Stirling, needing to inform the king. While at court, the Lord blessed me ten times over. I met my wife, Lady Campbell. You may have recognized the plaids that aren’t ours or the MacFarlanes. Lady Campbell was once Lady Laurel Ross. Our journey wasn’t without incident. Those who wished to sever our alliances with the MacMillans are even more determined to sever our alliance with the Rosses.”
Laurel wanted to squirm. She’d never been so uncomfortable in her life. She sounded like a replacement bride, which she knew in part she was, despite Brodie claiming their meeting was a blessing. It also sounded as though she made their clan troubles worse, which she knew was unintentionally true. Brodie looked down at her, and the love she saw eased her nerves. She smiled back up at him.
“I cannot offer Lady Campbell the feast and welcome I wish and that she deserves. We must postpone it until the threats to our clan are no longer. But I would have every member of this clan, be they members of our branch or a sept, understand that Lady Campbell is my partner in our marriage and in this clan’s leadership. You will discover she is selfless and giving when you are fair and hard working. You will discover she is stern when you are not. This keep and all that happens within its walls, or pertains to it, is her domain. Her word is law. Do not come to me if you dislike it. I trust her choices and her advice as much as I do any member of the clan council. She doesn’t have to explain herself to you, but I can promise there is a well thought out reason for each of her decisions.”
Brodie looked at Laurel expectantly, and she realized he expected her to address the clan now. She still hadn’t been introduced to Colina and Dominic, but she looked at them first. She was unprepared and unsure what to say, but she stumbled through. “Clan Campbell, I am proud to be your lady. In the time I’ve come to know and care for your laird, I’ve learned that he is wise and strong, a defender of his people above all else. I take my duties to you and my husband to heart. I cannot promise that you will always like what I say or agree with me, but as your laird said, I do it for a reason. I wish for the best for this clan, and I will fight alongside all of you to protect what is ours. God help those who test the might of Clan Campbell.”
Laurel held her breath as awestruck faces gawked at her. She didn’t know what to do. She slashed her gaze to Monty and Donnan, who stood two steps down from her. Neither of them looked reassuring. She was unprepared for Brodie to scoop her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, unsteady with surprise.
“And that is why I love my wife,” Brodie announced before kissing her. As always, the world around them fell away, becoming a blissful land made for only two. Hoots and cheers eventually forced them apart as they grinned at one another. “I have a new home to show my wife.”
Laurel entered the keep with the others and looked around the Great Hall. The crossbeams made an intricate pattern while serving their purpose: supporting the roof of one of the largest Great Halls Laurel had ever visited. Banners and tapestries hung from the walls. She wondered if Colina or Brodie’s mother stitched any of them. Every surface her gaze landed upon was scrubbed clean. The floor had fresh rushes. There was no wax accumulating in the sconces, and the ash looked recently swept in the hearths. She assumed Colina was an excellent chatelaine, and Aggie clearly ran an efficient staff.
“Lady Campbell, welcome to our home,” Dominic greeted as they stood near the dais. Laurel forced herself not to frown. Dominic’s tone made it sound as if she were a guest. “Our” didn’t feel as if it included her.
“Thank you, Dominic. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Laurel looked at Dominic and Colina, hoping to encourage the woman to join the conversation. When Colina said nothing, Laurel pressed on. “Lady Colina, you oversee a well-kept home. I’m very impressed by all that I see.”
“That’s Aggie,” Colina sniffed. It took Laurel aback until she realized Colina wasn’t being condescending. She had a genuine runny nose. Laurel wondered if the woman ailed. She still waited for her sister-by-marriage to say more, but nothing was forthcoming, so she turned back to Dominic.
“I didn’t imagine you and your brother would look so similar,” Laurel smiled.
“We are brothers.”
Laurel swallowed. This wasn’t the greeting she’d hoped to offer or receive. She used the opportunity to shift attention from her. She looked at Monty. “I’d like to introduce you to my brother Montgomery.”
Monty reached out his arm, and Dominic offered a hearty handshake. Laurel wondered if Dominic merely didn’t like women other than his wife. Monty turned to Donnan. “This is my second Donnan Ross.”
“Welcome to Kilchurn,” Dominic grinned. Laurel decided it was because she was a woman, not something else that earned her a chilly welcome. She looked at Colina once more, but the woman appeared disinterested in speaking to her. Colina’s arms were folded, and Laurel noticed the hem of her sister’s-by-marriage gown rippled. While Laurel couldn’t see the appendage, she knew Colina was tapping her toes. Laurel was at a loss, so she looked at Brodie, who looked confused. But when he noticed she stared at him, he smiled down at her and linked their hands together.
“Come with me, Laurie,” Brodie said. “Aggie will see to our guests, and you can become better acquainted wi
th Dom and Colina later.”
Brodie gave Laurel an abbreviated tour after he introduced her to Aggie, the housekeep, and Berta, the head cook. He pointed out his solar before taking her abovestairs. He opened the door to the chamber that was clearly intended for the laird’s wife. Laurel grew nervous as she took in the bed that sat perpendicular to the right wall. There was a padded window seat where she thought she might enjoy sewing. But her attention returned to the bed, unsure whether Brodie had changed his mind.
“I intended to have it removed, but I suppose I should ask you what you want?” Brodie said softly.
“Take it out,” Laurel blurted. Brodie chuckled and kissed her temple.
“I hoped you’d say that. Let me show you our chamber, mo chridhe.” Brodie opened the adjacent door, and Laurel stepped into an enormous chamber. She supposed anything smaller would feel cramped considering Brodie’s height and wide shoulders. She’d noticed that he had to turn sideways to pass through some doorways. Brodie sighed as they stood staring at the bed. “That is where I’d like to be, but I can’t. I’ll stay until you’re in your bath, then I must join the other men in my solar. I’m certain Aggie will send a tray up for you. You must be starving.”
“I am. You don’t need to stay, Brodie. I can manage a bath, even in a new place.” Laurel patted his chest. He captured her hand, pressing it against his heart as he encircled her waist with his other arm.
“And if my ulterior motive is to see my bonnie bride stripped with her flowing hair aboot her shoulders?”
“I’d guess you don’t intend to meet with my brother and the others.”
A Hellion at the Highland Court: A Rags to Riches Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 9) Page 26