“Sulk and hiss as you please. I survived abduction, a battle, a night lost among the mountain peaks, and an attempt to kill me. Your pathetic attempt to intimidate me is just that: pathetic. Find someone else to bully. It didn’t work on me when I was stuck with you before, and it won’t work now.”
“You’re awfully full of yourself for someone whose husband was forced to accept her without a dowry,” Sarah Anne snapped.
“Think what you will, but either way, I married Laird Campbell, and you’re still a spinster.”
“Penniless pauper. You seduced Laird Campbell, so he had no choice but to marry you,” Sarah Anne pressed on.
“I wasn’t penniless after you spent one hundred and sixty pounds on that gown and two others,” Laurel said smugly. She no longer felt she needed to keep her secret. “Och, aye. I ken all aboot that. Do you want to ken how I do?”
Laurel’s expression was patronizing, and she knew it would antagonize Sarah Anne.
“Probably because you wanted the gown for yourself and couldn’t afford it,” Margaret chimed in as she came to stand beside her sister.
Laurel cast her gaze around the queen’s solar, grateful Queen Elizabeth was yet to join them. She pointed to the three women before her and to five more ladies-in-waiting. “Look at the bottom left of the embroidery on your bodice, tell me what you find.”
Laurel waited, amusement tempting her to laugh again. But she lost the battle and laughed so hard she nearly wet herself as one stunned face after another looked in her direction. All except Sarah Anne. She’d long suspected the woman couldn’t read or write. As the younger sister, it was clear her father hadn’t given her the minimal tutelage Margaret received. She looked blankly at Laurel before her eyes darted from side to side, trying to read the cues to how she should react.
“It’s an L and an R, Sarah Anne. I might have been the fourth daughter, but I’m still the daughter of an earl. He bothered to educate me. In case you truly don’t know, Laurel begins with an L, and Ross begins with an R. I made the gowns each of you is wearing. The others already figured that out.”
“You were a seamstress?” Margaret asked in disgust.
“Aye. And I’ve had the pleasure of watching ladies flounce around in my creations for years. You’ve looked down on me, thinking me a pauper, kenning my father wouldn’t provide for me. But I kenned you’d have naught to show off, no way to preen, if it weren’t for me. Tell me, have you found any gowns that compare to these since I left?” Laurel watched as eyes lowered and a few heads shook. “The best seamstress in Stirling suddenly disappears at the same time that Laurel Ross marries one of the most powerful lairds in the Scotland. An almighty coincidence. Look down on me all you wish, but I held the power to your social status while I was here. And I took it with me. You have naught to compete with. You’re all as plain as you were the day you arrived. I gave you status, and now I’ve taken it away. Do you ken what you can do?” Laurel watched as the women looked at her questioningly. “You can sod off.”
“Lady Campbell, I’ve missed your unique perspective on life at court.” Laurel froze as Queen Elizabeth’s words floated to her. When the woman said no more, she turned and dipped into a low curtsy that matched all the other women in the chamber. When they all rose, Laurel found the queen gazing at her, a suspiciously knowing expression in her eyes. “I long suspected you were the talented dressmaker, but none of my guards could ever catch you. I suspect it was your husband who deduced what you got up to. He is likely the only mon with the wits to keep up with you.”
“We met when I was returning from purchasing fabric, Your Majesty,” Laurel admitted.
“Well met, indeed.” Queen Elizabeth opened her mouth to say more, but a page entered with three missives. He handed one to Laurel and gave the other two to Margaret and Catherine. Laurel broke the seal to hers, recognizing Brodie’s penmanship immediately. She tore her gaze from the missive to look at the queen. Laurel didn’t understand the missive, but she would oblige Brodie’s request.
“Your Majesty, my husband requests my attendance in the Privy Council chamber,” Laurel explained.
“And you wish permission to leave,” Queen Elizabeth surmised, and Laurel nodded. The queen looked at Margaret and Catherine before she responded to Laurel. “What say yours, Lady Catherine and Lady Margaret?”
“Liam Oliphant requests I go to the Privy Council chamber as well, but why would I do that? There is naught there I wish to see or hear,” Margaret sniffed. “I do not run to any mon. He may run to me.”
“My cousin asks that I attend to him too,” Lady Catherine replied. “Why would I wish to be stuck in a chamber full of men looking at maps and discussing things that don’t interest me? If my cousin wishes to speak to me, he can find me at the evening meal.”
Queen Elizabeth turned her attention back to Laurel. The royal raised her eyebrows at her former lady-in-waiting.
“If my husband asks me to attend him, there is a reason. May I go, Your Majesty?” Laurel prayed the woman didn’t refuse her. She didn’t sense it was anything urgent, but it was an excuse to leave the solar. She even wondered if that was Brodie’s intention.
“You may go, Lady Campbell.”
Laurel dipped a low curtsy, then swept out of the chamber before anyone could call her back.
Forty-Two
Brodie gritted his teeth as he glared at Liam Oliphant and noticed Andrew MacFarlane shifting nervously in his peripheral vision. He struggled not to reach out and wrap his hands around Liam’s neck and squeeze until there was no air left in the man’s body. It had displeased him to find Liam in the Privy Council chamber, but he thought the man would have the sense to keep his distance. To Brodie’s annoyance, Liam approached him while Brodie waited for King Robert to acknowledge him.
“Seeking refuge after sennights with the shrew?” Liam grinned. “At least she didn’t talk while she was with me.”
Brodie fisted his hands at his side, keeping a fine leash on his temper lest he murder the man before the king’s eyes. Andrew shifted to stand between him and Liam, his discomfort obvious. Brodie felt no sympathy for Andrew. He had shown his prowess on the battlefield and had fought valiantly, but that didn’t mean Brodie had to enjoy his company.
“How is your bonnie bride, Campbell?” Robert the Bruce sauntered over, looking between Brodie and Liam.
“Not with me,” Brodie grumbled before he bowed to the monarch. “She is well, Your Majesty. Despite what she endured at his hand,” Brodie glared at Liam.
Robert the Bruce grimaced as he turned his own glare toward Liam. Brodie wished to resolve the matter that brought Laurel and him to court and then be on their way. He recognized Liam Oliphant was an unfortunate part of the events, but that didn’t mean he intended to suffer the man’s company.
“Is Lady Campbell with the queen?” King Robert asked Brodie.
“Aye, Your Majesty.”
“I suppose she is happy to see familiar faces,” King Robert offered. Brodie knew it for the test that it was.
“There are certain to be many familiar faces,” Brodie responded.
“Right, then,” King Robert turned to Liam, abandoning his attempt to goad Brodie. “Oliphant, I understand you originated the wager that Lady Campbell would remain unwed.”
“Not exactly, Your Majesty,” Liam clarified before grinning at Brodie. “I wagered that no mon could tame the harridan.”
Brodie was certain his teeth would crack from how he clenched his jaw. He fought the urge to turn around and walk out, leaving the king and his advisors to stare at his back. He would not take Liam’s bait.
“Is the Shrew of Stirling tamed?” King Robert asked Brodie. Brodie’s nostrils flared as he turned his gaze to a man he’d considered a friend for many years. Their positions put distance between them, but Brodie never imagined the man he’d fought beside, slept beside, ate beside, and nearly died beside would insult his wife to his face. “What say you, Campbell?”
“There is
naught to say that won’t put me in your dungeon.” Brodie crossed his arms, uncaring if he appeared surly. It kept him from lashing out.
“Come now, Campbell, it can’t be that bad,” King Robert smiled. “She’ll come around. There are plenty of years ahead of you to bring her to heel.”
Andrew coughed, but it sounded like a croak. He glanced at Brodie before shooting King Robert a warning stare with a minor shake of his head. Only Andrew knew the dangerous ground the other two men trod; he didn’t doubt for a moment that Brodie would defend Laurel’s honor against anyone, including the Bruce. When he feared King Robert would say more, he turned the attention to the king.
“Your Majesty, I’ve seen Lady Campbell and Laird Campbell together. They are a couple clearly in love,” Andrew declared.
“That doesn’t mean she’s obedient,” Liam snarked.
“She doesn’t have to be. She’s my wife, not my dog,” Brodie stated.
“You’re being evasive because she has you by the bollocks, Campbell.”
“Laird Campbell, Oliphant.” Brodie’s tone was calm, but the steel rang throughout the chamber as they gathered an audience.
“Perhaps a wager to see who speaks the truth,” King Robert suggested.
“That wouldn’t be wise,” Brodie warned.
“So you admit you know you won’t win,” Liam gloated.
“You’d already run away to tattle, Oliphant.” Brodie grimaced, remembering that he discovered Liam evaded the battle to travel to Sterling and convince King Robert that Brodie was the aggressor. “But MacFarlane will tell you what happened to the last two men to place a wager on my wife.”
“Liam, Campbell took Nelson’s head from his shoulders a moment before Montgomery skewered Matthew.” Andrew opened his mouth to proclaim Laurel was the mastermind behind their victorious battle plan, but he swallowed his thought, lest he endanger her again.
“No coin will exchange hands,” King Robert declared. “The winner will have the satisfaction of kenning he was right.”
Brodie glared mutinously at the king. The Bruce shrugged before looking at Liam and Andrew. Liam practically bobbed on his toes like a child at Epiphany, while Andrew appeared to fight the urge to vomit. Brodie knew no matter what the king proposed, it would end with either Laurel or himself humiliated. He didn’t understand why his friend would do this. As he watched Robert, he knew any friendship they’d once shared no longer existed. They’d gone in separate directions, and they had nothing in common now that they no longer fought a common enemy. He didn’t mourn the loss of a friend, but he regretted he lost respect for a man he’d admired.
“Oliphant, you claim Lady Campbell will never be an obedient and obliging woman. Would you say Lady Margaret is such a woman?”
Liam’s brow furrowed, confusion on his face. “That’s why I believe she’d make a fitting wife.”
“And MacFarlane, now that the deal is off with the Gunn, you shall need to find another groom for your cousin. Do you believe she shall be a modest wife to her husband?”
“Lady Catherine is demure by nature, Your Majesty,” Andrew replied.
“Then we shall see which mon kens the woman in his life best.” King Robert signaled his scribe to bring three sheets of parchment and three quills. “Jot a missive and request the women in question join you here. Give no reason for their attendance, merely say you require her presence. We shall see who comes first, and who comes most willingly.”
Brodie scrawled his note to Laurel and sealed it. When all three missives were ready, the men handed them to a page, who ran off to deliver their messages. Brodie crossed his arms once more. He was confident Laurel would come, regardless of whether the other two did. He was eager to see her because he despised wasting time with the king that he could spend with his wife, but he was nervous about the reception she would receive. If anyone humiliated Laurel, Brodie would take her and leave without a glance over their shoulder. When the smile fell from the Bruce’s face, Brodie was certain the man understood his silent warning.
Laurel hurried along the passageways until she reached the corridor that held the Privy Council chamber. She smoothed out her skirts and ran her hand over her hair. Taking a calming breath, she gracefully approached the door, making her way past petitioners who stared at her. She hadn’t seen Brodie since that morning, when he’d kissed her goodbye before he left for the lists at sunrise. She hoped he appreciated her surprise. She’d donned the gown she wore to their wedding, made from the fabric Brodie gave her as a betrothal gift.
The doors opened to her, and she dipped her head in thanks to the royal guards. She spotted Brodie immediately. His posture made her apprehensive as she passed her gaze over the chamber’s other occupants. She struggled to hide her loathing when she noticed Liam standing near the king and Brodie. She supposed the pugnacious man was the reason for Brodie’s scowl. She approached but missed a step when the king howled with laughter.
“Enough,” Brodie snapped. “You’ve seen what you wanted. I’m taking my wife to our chamber.”
“No,” King Robert stated, suddenly serious. “I shall speak to your wife. Approach, Lady Campbell.”
Laurel drew closer, her eyes locked with Brodie’s but unable to interpret his expression. He looked furious, but she couldn’t understand why this was so if the king appeared jovial. Liam and Andrew looked annoyed, but nothing appeared out of sorts enough to warrant Brodie’s ire. When she was within arm’s reach, Brodie held out his hand. She slid hers into his, and King Robert laughed again.
“Bruce,” Brodie warned under his breath. Laurel’s knees shook at Brodie’s affront. Robert turned a warning glare at Brodie, but he no longer laughed.
“Thank you for coming, Lady Campbell. I’m certain it surprised you when your husband summoned you here. Before I explain why, are Lady Margaret and Lady Catherine not with you?”
“Nay, Your Majesty,” Laurel said softly.
“And why not?” The king pressed.
“They didn’t wish to come here.”
“Why not?”
Laurel blinked as the Bruce continued to push for more details. She looked up at Brodie, who nodded. She met Robert’s gaze. “They weren’t interested in coming here because they said it was boring. They believe Oliphant and MacFarlane will go to them, but they will not come here.”
“And why are you here, Lady Campbell?”
“Because my husband asked me.”
King Robert crossed his arms, a satisfied expression on his face as he stared at Liam and Andrew. Brodie had realized Robert’s motive when the king asked about Margaret and Catherine’s disposition. But he still resented Robert using Laurel for his amusement.
“My wife and I are retiring,” Brodie announced.
Laurel frowned, not understanding why she came only for them to leave. “Brodie?” His expression told her not to ask anything more. She nodded and took the arm he offered.
“Not yet, Campbell.” Robert said. Laurel felt the tension in Brodie’s arm, and it made her more anxious.
“Lady Campbell, I instructed the men to write missives to each of you to see who would come when beckoned. Oliphant and MacFarlane were certain Lady Margaret and Lady Catherine wouldn’t hesitate since they are so demure.”
Laurel nearly swallowed her tongue to keep herself from laughing.
“I take it that is not how you would describe the ladies in question,” the Bruce observed. “Oliphant was certain you would be the one to refuse. He doesn’t believe that your husband has tamed you. You should know that MacFarlane spoke on your behalf.”
Laurel looked at Andrew, and he wanted to melt into the floor. He had no idea what she would say, but he was certain he would have nothing on par to say in return. “You spoke on my behalf to inform the king and Liam that I’m now tamed?”
“Nay, Lady Campbell. I said that you and Laird Campbell love one another,” Andrew clarified. It stunned him when Laurel said nothing more.
“It would seem Campbell w
as up to the challenge to tame the Shrew of Stirling,” King Robert crowed. Laurel flinched, knowing the humiliation would come, but still not prepared for how it stung. “If only there had been money on the wager.”
“Wager?” Laurel whispered as she turned her face up to Brodie. His heart ached to see the pain in his wife’s eyes. She believed the worst, and he didn’t blame her for how the king made it sound.
“Don’t carp at your husband, Lady Campbell. He’s the reason there was no coin involved. He insisted we not wager on you. But it seems he won nonetheless.”
“How is watching you humiliate my wife winning?” Brodie snapped. “You made your point. You even think you took my side, but all you’ve done is hurt Laurie. Call on me when you need my army or my coin, but do not call on me as your friend.” Brodie wrapped his arm around Laurel and turned them toward the door. He didn’t stop when the king called out to him. The guards barred their way at the door. Neither of them looked back at King Robert or anyone else in the chamber. They stood together, their backs straight, and their heads held high.
“If anyone has been tamed, it’s the Lion of Lorne. Well done, Lady Campbell.” Neither Brodie nor Laurel acknowledged King Robert’s proclamation, instead walking through the doors when they opened. When they heard the doors close, Brodie swept Laurel into his arms and carried her to their chamber, where he explained the entire farce. Laurel remained quiet, nodding from time to time. It was only early afternoon, but they climbed into bed, where they found solace in one another’s arms as their bodies became one. Neither felt tamed as they moved together, their passion combustible. But Laurel no longer felt like a pauper or a hellion. She was richer for having found love with a man who’d now be known as the Lion of Lorne. Just like a phoenix, Brodie’s moniker rose from the ashes of her own.
Epilogue
A Hellion at the Highland Court: A Rags to Riches Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 9) Page 35